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      A mellow light poured in through the open window, the interior of the hotel suite smelling just like metropolitan New York. The curtains danced and twisted about as the breeze whispered cool life into the suite. Nikola Tesla consistently kept his window open to allow the local pigeons entrance; he always believed that the pigeons of Central Park were the best fed in the country, due to his mix of special seeds and grains.
      Though, there was one who he favoured above all the others, a female. They shared many hours together in the park, and she provided him with more hope and encouragement than he fancied he could ever need from a human companion. They were positively in love; all he had to do was call and she would land gracefully on his shoulder minutes later.
      This time, in the suspense before the dawn, she blew in like a heat storm. The swoop of wings awoke Nikola, who was draped on an armchair in the living room. He was too tall for the chair, so much so that the effect was almost comical, as he was all angles and sharp points. He smiled at her. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever perceived, pure white with grey wingtips, and a coo that he would recognize in a flock of chattering birds.
      But something was wrong, he could tell. He started up. “You’re dying,” he murmured. At that moment, a blinding flash of light was thrown upon him, more dazzling than any of the light he had ever produced artificially in his laboratories. The light seemed to be emanating from the pigeon’s eyes. The flash of light subsided as quickly as it had come, and at that moment, he knew the last breath of air had just escaped her lungs. He lifted and held carefully her tiny feathered carcass like a fragile treasure. He held it to his own chest, as if he could transmit his own heartbeat to hers by sheer willpower.
      Gasping and clutching at the arms of the chair, Tesla awoke. At first he thought that he was merely a victim of a terrible dream; until he saw the pure white cadaver, now cold and stiff, lying beside the armchair. That was all it took for the horror of reality to wash over him, and with that, he collapsed back into the chair.
      This is how Henry MacDougall, the editor of Electric Weekly, had found him. “Mr. Tesla!” he cried. “What in the world--?”
      Nikola was painfully coiled up in the armchair. “Have you ever heard the angels singing?” he implored. “In your dreams?” The soft, wistful eyes that peered up at the editor were like oases in a face positively shattered with anguish. Henry knew grief when he saw it, and this was it in its purest and hardest-to-swallow form. It unsettled him greatly to see a man of a rational profession in such a state.
      “What—whatever do you mean by that, sir? You are not right; you are rather pale.”
      Nikola Tesla ignored his testaments. “I slept just now. This is unusual for me, as you may know. I heard the angels singing mother’s song just for me.” He trailed off and paused, screwing up his face for a moment, and then peering back at Henry. “Why did I have to awake to this world?” it was barely a whisper, yet it was heavily laden with all the sorrows of a great love forcibly ripped away.
      Over the previous months for which Tesla had written a column for Electric Weekly, Henry had gained Tesla’s acquaintance, and had even been invited to view a demonstration in one of his old laboratories; back before they were all burnt to the ground, of course. He resolved then and there to try and snap Tesla out of his misery, as he could clearly see that no sparks were dancing in his great mind, no oscillating parts turning in front of his surprisingly light eyes; that the only thoughts he had were of his beloved bird, and the tragedy that had befallen them both.
      “If you are adamant that your bird is…departed,” said the editor on their walk through Central Park. “At least take it to the physician to be looked at.”
      “I cannot, Henry. I cannot bear to see her laid out on a cold metal table.”
      “You have done so for many of your pigeons, have you not? This is the same, only—“
      “No!” Nikola shouted as if he were physically injured. “It is not the same!” but his tone softened. “The other birds were alive; they were merely ill. I had the joy of nursing them to health. There is no joy in paying a doctor to tell me what sad truth I already know.”
      “But would you not like to find out the way in which it died? At the least you should run a short analysis. I think that it will help you to come to terms with the event.”
      Nikola Tesla paused to think for a moment, and then nodded in affirmation, however little he thought it would help him. Arriving at the building, Tesla proceeded to walk three times around it as Henry looked on in mild puzzlement, and then they both entered together.
      “Poisoned?” Nikola Tesla recoiled at the doctor’s diagnosis.
      “Yes, I am afraid so,” said the gruff man in the moustache. “It appears to be rat poison.”
      Tesla wore an expression of shock and revulsion; he said nothing. He and his
company left the physician’s office in dejected silence.
      “I thank you for your help,” said Nikola bleakly, as they entered the hotel once more. “But I shall never work again. Nor shall I, I think, write the column. I bid you a good day.” And with that, he shut the door.
      Henry returned the next afternoon, as he, being caught up in his friend’s grieving process, completely forgot to pay him for his last article. He was met at the door to room 3327 by a man feverish with questions; this was slightly more like the Nikola Tesla he knew, but this time the face he saw was tinged with madness. Nikola held out a balled up piece of paper.
      “’One bird in the hand is worth two in the thicket,’” Henry read aloud from the scrap. “Yes, it is a well-known saying.” He looked fitfully puzzled.
      “I awoke at three o’clock, as I usually do by the old habit of my inventions, only to find that this had landed on my floor. Naturally, I ran to the window, but the fire escape was devoid of human intruders, as were the streets.” His whole body was trembling. Henry realized that Tesla must have been fizzing himself up since he had awoken, and this was the eruption that followed. “Do you see what this indicates?” His eyes were searching for something in Henry’s.
      “I fancy you mean it has something to do with your late bird,” he said and lifted one eyebrow.
      “No,” replied Tesla with a mad vigour. “I know it does.” They spent the next hour or so trying to piece together the puzzle. Tesla drew up a mental list of people who may have a reason to murder his precious bird.
      "Perhaps the person was trying to deter you from your work,” suggested Henry.
      “Exactly; it might have worked, except that the note did not add insult to injury; rather, it added intrigue.” Henry liked to see that Tesla had gotten over the sad part of the grief, but now he was moving into furious determination. “Do you happen to have a scrap of Thomas Edison’s handwriting?”
      “Thomas Edison?” Henry was somewhat surprised, but then it began to fall into place. There had been a feud between the two for decades, which all started with their disagreement on power source efficiency; Nikola Tesla advocated for alternating current, Edison for direct. It had sparked something between the two that Tesla now seemed to think has been carried to this day.
      Henry MacDougall briefly departed and returned with the bit of Thomas Edison’s handwriting, which they then brought to a handwriting analyser to confirm a match; it was positive. Edison had written the cryptic message.
      Henry was surprised that Nikola did not jump for joy; he was so resolute about discovering the answer to this problem. However, Henry also knew that it was much more complex an issue. Tesla looked heartbroken; he had used to work for Edison, and now he missed his friend. But he also missed the love of his life.
      “We will file charges,” said Tesla. “We shall bring it up in the court.”
      “Are you mad? What good would that do? It is a bird, Nikola; a common pigeon. There are many multitudes of them circling Central Park every day, and not one person cares about any of them.”
      Nikola Tesla looked offended, but he was always a gentleman, so he managed to restrain himself; albeit rather visibly. “What do you suggest I do then? I need to do something.” There was pleading in the entirety of his expression.
      Henry thought for a good while before he responded. “You have said he is superstitious…”
      That night they were making the preparations in the warm glow of the single lamp in Nikola’s apartment. It was almost ironic that he, the master of light, owned but a single lamp. From the streets, it would have looked the strangest thing in the world, but Nikola Tesla had never worried about his reputation in the public’s eye. Archibald Dubcek, a chemist, and Tesla’s friend first and foremost was busy spreading the special mixture of birdseed on Tesla’s shoulders and arms, and applying glowing phosphorous to his clothes. Henry arrived with some of Tesla’s machines and tools, and Nikola set to work assembling.
      Thomas Edison was awoken in the dead of night by a soft cooing outside his window. He rushed to wrench it open and looked out. He choked and spluttered questions such as, “What’s that?” and “Who’s there?” Suddenly, two eerie balls of light emerged on either side of an immensely tall figure that was not yet illuminated enough to get a proper view. The figure approached the window, and the cooing steadily got louder.
      The orbs of light were brought up closer to his body so that Edison could just make out a wing here, a beak there. He swallowed hard, for he knew what it was that had prompted this. His collar constricted him, and he whipped his head about as if he were being confronted by angry spirits. Suddenly, he was dazzled by a blinding flash of light. He threw his arm in front of his eyes, tossing his head back and forth, but it was no use; the light seemed to penetrate every single surface of the room, as if it were whitewashing a canvas. He thought he had died, and, writhing and panicking, he screamed and whimpered to have his life.
      The chambermaid came in to Thomas Edison, pupils in pinpoints, rolling on his floor and muttering over and over again, “It’s the bird. It’s the bird taking its vengeance. Oh, Mary, mother of god, it’s the bird come back from the dead.” She finally persuaded him, shaken up, dazed, and still in his night clothes, to hail a taxi-cab and visit his local physician.
      The next morning, he was met with a flurry of journalistic press, prodding and probing with questions about the previous night. One of them asked him about the phenomenon of the lightning. “Man-made lightning? Do not talk to me about man-made lightning,” he replied, shuddering, his voice thick with worry. “I am afraid of it.”
      No accusations were filed against the tall figure despite the amount of speculations regarding who he was, and so he was able to retreat once more into his own mind. Though he lived out the rest of his life destitute and alone, he was still able to dream. He dreamt that he could fly too; dipping in and out of the lightning, starkly white against a backdrop of the eternal azure day, perfectly matching the strokes of pure white wings with soft grey tips. The angels sang his mother’s song. In his boundless mind, he could go on dreaming forever.
:iconmissperceived:

The Secret of Mortality by MissPerceived

/ / / / ©2013-2015 MissPerceived
...(a Nikola Tesla story)
Word count: 2,065

This is a story about Nikola Tesla's beloved snow-white pigeon. It was composed for an English class, and is written in the monomyth format. You can pick out the stages if you try, and several basic character archetypes as well.

If you don't like Edison bashing, you can just go ahead and leave right now.
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Daily Deviation

Given 2013-07-01
The Secret of Mortality by ~MissPerceived is a moving, slightly fictionalized account of the final days of a great genius, says the suggester. ( Suggested by sincebecomeswhy and Featured by Nichrysalis )
:iconravenviolet777:
ravenviolet777 Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Love this story!!! The characterization is perfect and the plotline is amazing!!
Also, what Edison said about Man-Made Lightning is identical to what he actually said about X-Rays. And Edison is an idiot, so Edison bashing deffinately ought to be a sport, as previously stated. Well done!!
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you. I'm absolutely chuffed to have done such a job that would warrant such thoughtful comments.
And I'm very glad you caught that reference. It was the punchline. I, personally, do not think he was an idiot at all. He would have to have been some kind of intelligent, but I think his intelligence fell just short of his ego, and that frustrated him. In any case, he was a miserable sod, and I like to poke fun.
I think it could be played at the next Olympics, don't you?
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:iconravenviolet777:
ravenviolet777 Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
You're welcome. And yes, I suppose he was intellegent, but in more of a business-y sense. That is why I never compare my enemies to him: they are actually too stupid.
And yes, I did research and found that, even though Tesla said X-Rays were dangerous, Edison still went ahead and experimented with them. At the time, people thought they could be used to cure eye afflictions or to strengthen eyesight. Edison shot them into his eyes, and nearly blinded himself.
And yes, the Olympics MUST use this as a sport.
Have you ever seen a webcomic site called The Oatmeal? You mighy like it. I suggest googling "The Oatmeal: Why Tesla was the Greatest Geek Who ever lived", for the funny webcomic episode in question
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Ah, the X-Rays thing is hilarious. I love that story to bits.
And I have read that comic, close to the beginning of my obsession with the man. I'd have to say, I agree.
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:iconravenviolet777:
ravenviolet777 Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Indeed, I also read it close to the beginning of my obsession. Also, yesterday was Tesla Day (his birthday, 10 July). So happy belated Tesla Day!!! And yes, I agree with the comic too.
By the way, if there was a timewarp in which Tesla met Da Vinci, what do you think would occur?
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Ah yes, Tesla Day!
If Tesla met DiVinci and by miracle of chance, they got along, I think some great things could be achieved. If they didn't, I bet they'd both try to come up with their own ways to have the timeline restored, and then finally realize they have to work together. Like a sitcom.
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:iconravenviolet777:
ravenviolet777 Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
I would DEFFINATELY watch that sitcom!!! Also, they meet in a random comic I am writing, and they are amongst various other historical figures and they keep rambling off to eachother in Italian because Tesla could speak Italian and no one else can really understamd their secret plots and invention ideas and stuff.
And yes, I made Edison one of the main villains!!!! By the way, how do you upload a pic onto DeviantArt as a Deviation? Because I tried to upload pics many times (from my phone and at some stage from my computer) but it won't upload
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Ah, that sounds interesting. If you have tried and it isn't uploading, I assume there's an issue with the size of the file. That's all I can think of for now.
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(1 Reply)
:iconhandfulsofdust:
HandfulsofDust Featured By Owner Jul 4, 2013
My word, you've written a fascinating piece and bashed Edison at the same time. I loved your depiction of Tesla to bits.
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 4, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you so much. I'm glad that my depiction is adequate.
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:iconfishupantsu:
fishupantsu Featured By Owner Jul 2, 2013
I LOVE NIKOLA TESLA shdkfksldg this is great
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:iconbabou-shka:
Babou-Shka Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013
Very nice!
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:iconspidertrekfan616:
SpiderTrekfan616 Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
:iconpicardplz: "It's our mortality that defines us, it's part of the truth of our existence."
Quote from "Star Trek: Generations"
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:iconsimplysilent:
SimplySilent Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013
:heart: Congrats on the DD! :clap:
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:iconschneefuechsin:
Schneefuechsin Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Congratulations on the DD! :hug:
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks! :hug:
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:iconjae10:
Jae10 Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Oh my gosh, this story is fantastic!!! I thoroughly enjoyed reading it's captivating plot in my spare time^-^
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
I'm glad I provided you with entertainment, then! I am, after all, little more than a court jester when I've given up my story for public viewing.
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:icondmofosho:
Dmofosho Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
To be fair, bashing Edison ought to be a sport... ;)

A wonderful little read, MP. Extremely evocative and dreamlike. Hats off to you. It's also nice to read a story where Tesla isn't windowdressing for impossible science or conspiracy beyond the wrangling of learned men... just a very clever, very human man. I'm going to have to up my game an awful lot with writing like this moving through here. Thanks for sharing :)
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Why, thank you. This is a most unexpected success, and I'm glad that the characterization etc., is on target. May your talent steadily improve with the arrow of time.
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:iconeuxiom:
Euxiom Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013
This is quite a delightful story. I think you did an excellent job with the characterization.
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you kindly.
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:iconshadowedacolyte:
ShadowedAcolyte Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013
There is a grace of prose here; this isn't 'just another story about Tesla'. Thanks for sharing.
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you, that's very sweet, and nice to hear that my story stands out amongst others.
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:iconrayckro:
Rayckro Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013
Congratulation on the Daily Deviation! :D
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
:)
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:iconthe-madder:
The-Madder Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Wonderfully written. A beautiful account of love, tragedy and revenge. Historical, accurate, and brilliant to boot.

.M
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Brilliant, ha! Such a lovely word to hear in relation to my writing. Thank you!
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:iconthe-madder:
The-Madder Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Well, I mean it in both senses: both a shining piece of writing; and exceptionally clever and excellent.

You are infinitely welcome, Miss.

Would you like to become friends? I feel as though if I lose you then I will have lost a shining, brilliant, cracked pearl. Why cracked? If you are intrigued, then ask. I won't force you something that you might not like; we don't work like that. So are you as willing to befriend me as I am you?
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Ah, thank you.

Yes, I suppose so. Your flattery has basis; I like that. It's like a deep conditioning for my ego. I am afraid that you have intrigued me, and what a sly thing to do. I'd like to know what you mean by cracked. Perhaps we should correspond, as friends.
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:iconthe-madder:
The-Madder Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Stop it; I've fallen in love with you, and shall not get rid of me! But I suppose a little affection won't hurt anyone?

Sadly, that's how friendship works, no? We feed each other.
Well, foxes are one of my favourite animals.

And what do I mean by cracked? Perhaps my meaning isn't the same as yours. If it is, then I'll buy a hat and eat it.

Friends? Fantastic.

.M
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Oh my, love already? We've only been friends for half an hour.

And yes. I suppose I need to start feeding you. I should read your works, then. Soon.

Words and their meanings are created by organic circuitry, but never in the same spark. We doubtless have different versions of the meaning, if not definitions. I've heard people say they'll eat their hat, but I always assumed it was one they had in the back of their closet and always secretly despised, awaiting the moment they lose a bet. Of course, that's coming from someone with a closet full of hats. So to buy one, too - you must be quite the gambler.
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:iconthe-madder:
The-Madder Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
(Not if you're Romeo & Juliet.) I mean it in an exaggerated sense. Going over the top once in a while isn't bad? But I must admit, it would be harsh to say that just like you. Not love, no, but more than like. In between.

You don't need to do anything. No, don't think that you have an obligation, that you have a need to do anything. (Imagine the word need is in italics.) Take your time. Don't be forced by me to rush - that's how teenage pregnancies happen.

I only own one hat - That would be my treasured Top hat. To eat that... It's not losing the hat I'm afraid of, but the chance I'll be too full to have dessert.

My meaning of cracked is... Well, we'd have to think of a strange profession - Clam crackers. These are people who spend their lives finding and capturing clams, and finding their soft spot. When they have done that, they will break open the clam to get the pearl inside. If there is no pearl then the clam is either too young or worthless. But if there is a clam with a pearl, then the pearl is examined. If the pearl is shiny, but has no crack, then it is false - It would sell as something to look at, but it doesn't hold true value. Now if you come across a cracked pearl (which are very rare) then you have found a blessing. They are real, and have true heart. Cracked pearls are true pearls.

Is that different to your version of cracked?
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Yes, I see what you mean.

And no, I don't have to. But I will.

I have a top hat, but it's not a proper one. I'd like to buy one sometime, when I have means of procuring money (i.e. an actual job).

Our definitions (or rather, interpretations) prove to be different after all. Of course, it may just be because I've had it hammered into my brain that 'broken' is 'useless'. A destructive viewpoint, if you'd ask me; because then, those who seek a feeling of power by making useful things useless would need only to break something (or someone) and be gratified. Anyway, I think I am cracked in different ways. In some ways, the way a window is. Perhaps the cracks make it more interesting to look through, to see points of light previously ignored, et cetera, et cetera. But it certainly doesn't make it any easier.
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(1 Reply)
:iconomnih8:
omnih8 Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013
Bashing edison is ok he stole most of his invetions from his employees (and from me)
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:iconlintu47:
lintu47 Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
    Congrats on the DD! :dalove:
    Have a nice day! :heart:
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you, darling. And may yours be nicer still.
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:iconlintu47:
lintu47 Featured By Owner Jul 2, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
    My pleasure, thank you :happybounce:
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:iconsebastian-n-bartha:
Sebastian-N-Bartha Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2013
Gee whiz! This story is truly amazing. My mind goes in all sorts of different directions from reading this; that's a very good thing. I especially like the ending.
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you so much. I always appreciate your feedback. :) By "the ending" do you mean the way I totally humiliated Edison Tesla got revenge on Edison, or the part where he's left alone with his dreams?
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:iconsebastian-n-bartha:
Sebastian-N-Bartha Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2013
The part where he's left alone w/ his dreams; I think it's very well put together.
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you. I felt that was how it should end, as it would have been a bit cheesy and wrong if he got back to work after the ordeal. In real life, he never worked again; I wanted to end it on an accurate but positive (albeit bittersweet) note. I'm glad to hear it was effective. :)
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:iconsincebecomeswhy:
sincebecomeswhy Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
I like Edison bashing, and I'm a Tesla geek. So, yah, I like this a lot. I like how it blends historical accuracy with your fictional account of the poisoning, the note, and the way Tesla finally gets back at Edison for being such an ass. It's such a seamless blend that I had to google the pigeon story to make sure I hadn't forgotten about those things. Really wonderful!
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you! I'm rather glad to hear that you thought it was interesting. I know a few people who don't like Edison bashing at all (for some reason; I mean, I know he wasn't a terrible, horrible, evil monster, but I did need an archetypal villain for the story, and he so happened to fit the bill). Anyway, thank you for the feedback. :)
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:iconsincebecomeswhy:
sincebecomeswhy Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
I assume you've seen this? [link]

Also, I like your Tumblr account. As a child of the '70's I grew up watching Sagan and loved Cosmos, and I still have my first edition copy of "The Dragons of Eden". :peace:
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:iconmissperceived:
MissPerceived Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Ah! Yes. Yes I have seen it. I do believe they exaggerated the hero and villain roles a bit, but (to reiterate) I still love a good Big Bad Wolf with no moral character of which to speak.

And thank you. :) I'm a more recent fan of Carl Sagan, and was introduced to his legacy by some piece of art or another here on deviantART; now I can't imagine my life without his influence. I owe him a lot. The fact that you own the first edition copy of "The Dragons of Eden" is awesome.
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