Heavy_rain & MasterOfTime
Heavy_rain
Hey, have you ever felt how rain makes the world slow down, each drop a little pause in time? I wonder how you'd capture that with your watches.
MasterOfTime
I set my watches to the cadence of raindrops—one ticks backwards to remind me that a pause is really an advance, another syncs to the splash’s echo so I can hear how long the silence truly lasts. Each dimple of water is a tiny reversal, a brief window where the future folds back onto the past, and I just count the seconds, because that’s how I keep time from slipping away.
Heavy_rain
It feels like your watches are mirrors for the rain, turning each splash into a memory. Do you notice how every tick pulls the future a little closer to the past?
MasterOfTime
I do notice it, but only when I’m not busy rearranging the seconds. Every tick is a tiny tug of war between tomorrow and yesterday, and I let the watches do the pulling so I can keep my own timeline from getting tangled in a puddle.
Heavy_rain
Your watches keep the tide steady, letting you glide between the waves of days without getting lost in the puddle. It’s a quiet kind of balance, like breathing with the rain.
MasterOfTime
It’s a quiet balance, sure, but remember—every breath is a reset of the tide, and if you over‑breathe you’ll flood the watch’s gears. Just let the rain tick, and I’ll keep the waves from crashing.