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Language:
English
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Published:
2024-01-28
Words:
362
Chapters:
1/1
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2
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11
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302

A Mask Of My Own Face

Summary:

When a mishap after a mission leads Freud divorce papers from Jung of all people, Freud demands an explanation from Jung.

Notes:

So yeah this is my first attempt at a SSF fic. Obviously an AU.

Sorry it took so long to finish chapter one i had some life stuff get in the way. I hope you enjoy.

Work Text:

The base was filled with silence. Well, except for Freud's phone. 

 


PING!

 


PING!

 


PINGPINGPINGPINGPINGPINGPINGPINGPINGPING!

 


Considering this was the 1940s, no one bothered to pick it up. 

 


PING!

 


If you, like many, are wondering how Sigismund Schlomo Freud, more commonly known as Sigmund Freud, PING! father of psychoanalysis (and very horny dude), who died 15 years before Steve Jobs was even born, let alone created the iPhone, PING! your question has an extremely simple answer. In the midst of the Second World War, incumbent British Prime Minister Sir Winston Leonard Spencer Churchill , PING! more commonly known to the public as the simple title of Winston Churchill, discovered the ability to time travel using Konrad Zuse's PING! mechanical sculpture of electricity and computer components capable of digital miracles, Z3. Upon discovering this innovation, Churchill PING! 

PING!

 


PING!

 


PING! PING! PING! PING! 

 

 

The notification window, if anyone was to actually understand what it was, was repeatedly filled with the same phrase, over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. One simple, calm message. Infinitely. If it were a messenger pigeon bringing mail, the pigeon would have died from exhaustion. (Much to Nikola Tesla's dismay, which could turn to madness.) A simple calm message:

 


"SIGMUND WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?????"

 


Over and over again. 

 


Now to understand the amount of chatter coming from poor Freud's inbox, allow me, the author, to explain some things about the writer of those texts. 

 

Carl Jung wasn't the most stable fellow. At least after his friendship with Freud ended. When you grow up sitting on a rock while pondering if the rock is sitting under you and making up languages with old dolls in the attic for fun, you're gonna end up with problems. Not that those problems are bad. 

 

How Jung got a phone is beyond anyone, considering he died in the early 1960s. Let alone the ability to text.

 

Accept for one person.

 

No, not a man of science, but...uh...yeah, not a man of science. He hated the term philosopher being attributed to him. It's weird. But Alan Watts was on all of the drugs.