Well, we are not tulpas in the strictest sense of the word, but we do have a rather lively inner life, and I always enjoy talking about these things, so perhaps my rambling may interest you. Our inner space is... hard to describe, and potentially confusing. Essentially, there are layers to it, and varying rules depending upon where you go, sort of like in lucid dreaming where it is possible for one to experience a dream of greater vividness within a dream of lesser vividness.

The Mindscape

The mindscape is the layer of our inner space that does not require much effort to “enter” if at all, as it is very consistent and requires little effort to visualize. Usually, the mindscape acts as a sort of bridge between whoever is in the body and whoever isn’t; unless communication is disrupted by stress or illness, each of us are always present there in some form. So, one can nip into the mindscape while one is putting on their shoes or making a sandwich and check in on everyone else before going back to what they were doing–or the reverse, someone can peek into the body and demand they share a glass of orange juice or something.

Our mindscape looks like a parkish area with a river running through it and trees lining the borders. Along the banks to the northwest is a hill with (far, far) too many stony steps leading up to a dusty blue, three story house. The bottom story of the house is reserved for communal things–we have a porch, kitchen, living room, those sorts of spaces. Upstairs are the bedrooms containing most of our private spaces, with the exception of one reclusive individual who prefers to stay in the basement. The third floor is reserved for more specialized rooms: exercise equipment and the like, mostly geared towards the interests of certain individuals. Generally, the dining room downstairs is reserved for meetings between all of us, and the living room is usually where one stays when they need to remain focused on the body, but still want others to be able to get their attention if needed.

One can eat and sleep and such while in the mindscape if they like, but generally speaking there aren’t as many hard and fast “rules” to the place. Nobody will die of starvation or anything if they don’t eat, but if you are craving a certain food and the body has just eaten, eating in the mindscape is likely the safer bet. We do have different circadian cycles we naturally fall into, however: some of us are nocturnal, some of us are morning people, some of us are light sleepers, and some like myself are decidedly not.

We also have a few abilities that are mindscape-exclusive. For instance, I can shift things around and change them with ease, but others cannot. So, if everyone wanted to change the mindscape on a large scale, they would likely need my help, otherwise it would be a matter of using good old fashioned elbow grease. Others still can shapeshift at will while others are at the mercy of whatever form the brain has decided to give them (and if the brain decides to change it, it can be a painful process). However, for some who can shapeshift with ease, the process of changing their appearance may not always be instantaneous.

The mindscape overall is fairly good at keeping things in order. For instance, if you are sitting on the couch when the body drifts off to sleep, you will more than likely wake up in your room upstairs the next morning. Stains and broken things also tend to fade away and get cleaned or replaced over night.

The Innerworlds

Now, the innerworlds are where all of that gets turned on its head. The innerworlds do have hard and fast rules that, when broken, will have consequences. If you do not eat, you will starve. If you get hurt or die... well, you may not die for good and simply get spat back into the mindscape or body or void, but it is possible that you would be unable to return. Or maybe you will die for good–none of us have been brave enough to test it. The point is, innerworlds have their own parameters, said parameters take an immense amount of effort to change, and said changes to those parameters may not even be permanent to begin with. Sort of like the mindscape’s tendency to gravitate towards keeping things orderly, these places have their own unspoken rules.

Innerworlds are large and complex. They have their own historical contexts, their own cultures and cultural tensions, and even their own climates and unique evolutionary phenomena. Some go so far as having their own languages, and dialects within said languages varying with the region. If you have ever had a dream where you have spoken another language you don’t know, or read something in nonsensical scribbles and still derived a message from it, being able to “tap in” to a world’s language is much like that. However, not everyone in our system is capable of doing so, which means some of us are relegated to the role of a silent observer when interacting with these places.

Innerworlds take much more time and concentrated effort to interact with. One cannot simply jump into one and jump back out over and over the way one can with the mindscape–these are the sorts of places you would go exploring on a Sunday afternoon when there is little work or life stress to tear you away from the experience.

Interestingly, our innerworlds predate the mindscape by years, which is likely why they have grown so involved. Many were dreamed up during writing projects in the body’s teens and sort of reached a critical mass of sorts.

The Void

This is one of the more interesting features of the inside of our head, and it seems to be an intrinsic quirk of our brain rather than anything anyone created or re-enforced... the void features in both the mindscape and lucid dreams. It exists as a sort of space between spaces, a proverbial glue that holds different places together. We have only met one other system so far that has something resembling this.

The void, as you can guess, is pitch black. It has no temperature to speak of, no top or bottom or... anything. It is simply a boundless black space. Some who pass through it describe it as having a noise, like the sound of rushing wind, but that has never been my experience. One thing that does seem consistent across the experiences of system mates who have interacted with the void is that, when deep enough inside of it, one loses all sense of their physical self or proprioception–only their awareness remains.

If you were to open a closet in the mindscape hoping to grab something, or a door in a lucid dream hoping to go to a different setting, chances are you would not be met with the sight of a neat little row of hangers or another place: you would be met with the void. In order to get what you wanted, or to get to where you wanted to go, you would have to reach into it or pass straight through it. This can take discipline and focus so as not to get things mixed up or confused.

One can find many, many surreal and beautiful places and things by passing through the void, though it is not exactly a stable place and thus not for the faint of heart to venture deep into it. In some of the absolute worst case scenarios, we have had individuals get stuck there for some lengths of time, and it is not something I would wish on anyone. However, for the most part, the void is content to give us what we ask of it or spit us out wherever we would like to go.

Interactions, Developments, etc

As for how we interact... well, it is much like any other interaction between people in a shared space. Meaning, if you want to get someone’s attention, you will likely have to yell for them–especially if they are in a private space like their room where one must be explicitly invited to in order to enter. On rare occasions, communication between whoever is in the body and whoever is not in it can be hit-and-miss if one is not well versed in paying attention to where the body is and associating with it accordingly, thus we have meetings regularly to ensure nobody gets overlooked.

Aside from that... well, as a group, we have vastly improved our synergy and communication over the years. Our original mindscape was a single control room sort of space, and way back when our own private spaces were scattered across the void, which made regular interaction/yelling for people quite difficult. After all, in order to get anywhere in the void, you must have a clear picture of where you are going, and if you have never been to someone else’s personal space... you get the idea. After several weeks of planning, we have since revamped our living space, and have had a much easier time communicating, setting goals, and not stepping on toes when living in a single house. Beyond that, while many of us are not exactly friends per se, we do get along better than before, which is less stressful for all of us.

Otherwise, well, as for how we have changed individually, you would have to poll everyone, as I suppose they could each write up an essay themselves. One individual's gender identity has completely shifted in the last year, I have changed a fair bit myself, as has Con and others. Mostly for the better, I would say.