#Coronavirus Lockdown UP

[coupleofdays]

A few years ago, I decided that I would make a real effort to become more social, instead of spending most of my free time sitting at home. I was going to find ways to socialize, byt finding local groups doing stuff I'm interested in, by visiting conventions, maybe try going to concerts or clubs. Maybe even *gasp* try dating. There's a part of me who often tries to push against these ideas, coming up with excuses to stay at home instead, but I was going to do my damndest to fight against it, argue against it, or simply ignore it, because I had a genuine longing to not just sit at home, alone.

Then the Covid pandemic started.

And now, that antisocial part of me has the perfect excuse, that I'm having a really hard time arguing against.

"Oh sure, you can join a group or go to a convention, but is it really worth the hassle? You wouldn't want to endanger anyone else, would you? You'll have to wear a mask constantly (and if you start to go out regularly, that's a whole lot of masks you gotta buy!), always make sure to wash your hands if you happen to touch it, always try to keep your distance, never letting your guard down for an instant. Oh, and try to make sure that all meetings you attend are outdoors too, because being indoors with other people increases the risk!"

"And even then, even if you do everything you can perfectly, if you take every possible precaution, you'll still have the nagging knowledge that it's not 100% safe, that you might be endangering everyone around you despite your best efforts (especially since most people around you doesn't seem to care about masking anyway, and your social anxiety makes it so you don't want to bring the mood down by arguing about it). Wouldn't it be easier to just stay home and play videogames all day, and then go to bed and fall asleep while worrying about dying alone?"

[nerdie-faerie]

Just because I've finished the assignment doesn't mean I don't still feel agitated and restless like I'm supposed to be doing something. But when no distraction is working it's at the point that I dig into the pandemic hobby box

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

Naturally, Ona isn’t just going to do what the Inspector demands, which prompts them to question Ona’s being alone during Hanukkah and renting a hotel room just for herself.

Which brings up the whole sordid tale of how the Tory government royally screwed things up by breaking lockdown rules while the rest of the UK faced final good-byes to loved ones using iPads rather than getting to say their farewells in person.

Good thing that a strong emotional outburst was enough to make the smart bomb disengage from her hands.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

Whenever you hear someone trying to blame kid's poor test scores "post pandemic" on "lockdowns," show them this.

By Dr. Sushama R. Chaphalkar, PhD.

New research shows that mild COVID-19 alters brain structure and connectivity in key areas responsible for memory and cognition, emphasizing the lasting effects on young people’s brain health.

In a case-control study published in the journal Translational Psychiatry, researchers used magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) and cognitive tests to examine brain structure, function, and cognition in adolescents and young adults with mild coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) compared to healthy controls in a pandemic hotspot in Italy. They identified significant changes in brain regions related to olfaction and cognition, with decreased brain volume and reduced functional connectivity in areas like the left hippocampus and amygdala, which were linked to impaired spatial working memory. Notably, no significant differences were observed in whole-brain connectivity, suggesting that these changes were localized rather than widespread.

Background COVID-19, primarily known for respiratory symptoms, also affects the central nervous system, leading to neurological issues like headaches, anosmia, and cognitive changes. MRI-based studies reveal anatomical brain changes in COVID-19 patients, such as reduced gray matter and decreased volume in regions like the hippocampus and amygdala, often linked to cognitive deficits.

While research mostly focuses on severe cases and older adults, a majority of infections with severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2), the causative agent of COVID-19, occur in adolescents and young adults who also experience long-lasting cognitive symptoms.

This age group, undergoing key brain development, is impacted by changes in spatial working memory and brain structure, which are crucial for cognitive functions shaped by social interactions, significantly disrupted by the pandemic.

Given that this is the largest and most understudied population affected by COVID-19, understanding the brain and cognitive impacts in adolescents and young adults is vital.

Therefore, researchers in the present study compared anatomical, functional, and cognitive outcomes, utilizing a longitudinal design that allowed them to assess both pre- and post-infection differences, in COVID-19-positive and negative adolescents and young adults from Lombardy, Italy, a global hotspot during the pandemic.

About the study The present study involved participants from the Public Health Impact of Metal Exposure (PHIME) cohort, a longitudinal investigation of adolescents and young adults in northern Italy. Between 2016 and 2021, 207 participants, aged 13 to 25 years, were included in a sub-study with MRI scans and cognitive tests. After COVID-19 restrictions were lifted, 40 participants (13 COVID+ and 27 COVID−) participated in a follow-up study, which replicated the MRI and cognitive assessments.

The mean age of participants was 20.44 years and 65% were female. COVID+ status was confirmed through positive reverse transcription polymerase chain reaction (RT-PCR) tests within 12 months of follow-up. Neuropsychological assessments used the Cambridge Neuropsychological Test Automated Battery (CANTAB) to evaluate spatial working memory.

MRI and functional MRI data were acquired using a 3-Tesla scanner, processed, and analyzed for structural and local functional connectivity using eigenvector centrality mapping (ECM) and functional connectivity (FC) metrics. Whole-brain functional connectivity metrics showed no significant differences between COVID+ and control groups, indicating that the observed changes were specific to key brain regions rather than generalized across the entire brain.

Statistical analysis involved the use of pairwise Student's t-tests, Kolmogorov–Smirnov test, linear regression, two-waves mediation analysis, negative binomial regression, and linear regression, all adjusted for covariates.

Results and discussion Significant differences were observed in the two groups regarding the time between assessments, COVID-19 symptoms, and vaccine status. The research identified five localized functional connectivity hubs with significant differences between the two groups, including the right intracalcarine cortex, right lingual gyrus, left frontal orbital cortex, left hippocampus and left amygdala, which is vital for cognitive functions. Only the left hippocampal volume showed a significant reduction in COVID+ participants (p = 0.034), while whole-brain connectivity remained unchanged, reinforcing the localized nature of the brain changes.

The left amygdala mediated the relationship between COVID-19 and spatial working memory "between errors" (p = 0.028), a critical finding that highlights the indirect effect of amygdala connectivity on cognitive function in COVID+ individuals. This mediation analysis underscores the role of specific brain regions in influencing cognitive deficits, as only the indirect effect was statistically significant for spatial working memory errors. The orbitofrontal cortex, involved in sensory integration and cognitive functions, also showed decreased connectivity in COVID+ individuals, supporting previous findings of structural and functional changes in this region during COVID-19.

The study is limited by small sample size, lack of diversity, potential confounding factors due to the long interval between MRI scans, treatment of certain subjects as COVID-negative based on antibody testing beyond the 12-month threshold, and the possibility of non-significant findings in mediation analysis due to these factors.

Conclusion In conclusion, the findings indicate persistent structural and functional alterations in specific brain regions of COVID-19-positive adolescents and young adults, including changes in gray matter volume and localized functional connectivity, which correlate with diminished cognitive function, particularly in working memory.

Further research is necessary to evaluate the longevity and potential reversibility of these brain and cognitive changes post-infection, enhancing our understanding of post-COVID outcomes and informing future interventions and treatments. The longitudinal design of this study, with pre- and post-COVID data, strengthens these findings by allowing direct comparisons over time, offering robust insights into the impact of COVID-19 on adolescent brain development.

Journal reference: COVID-19 related cognitive, structural and functional brain changes among Italian adolescents and young adults: a multimodal longitudinal case-control study. Invernizzi, A. et al., Translational Psychiatry, 14, 402 (2024), DOI: 10.1038/s41398-024-03108-2, www.nature.com/articles/s41398-024-03108-2

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph!!! 💜💜💜 I was hoping you could help me find some fics with John as an active medical doctor or E.R. nurse?? Ideally when (or how) he meets Sherlock? *eyebrow wiggle*

Not sure where the urge comes from, but just have a hankering for some hospital shenanigans, haha.

Ty babes!!! 🫶 - Liri

JOHN IS CURRENTLY A DOCTOR

Hey Liri!!!!

Oooo good question!! First off, of course I will rec these probably-John-related-medical-themed fics:

John at the Surgery

Doctor / Caretaker John

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 2

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 3

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 4

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 5

Quarantine / Lockdown / Pandemic (MFL’s)

Coronavirus / CoVID-19 (MFLs)

Then, I have a few where he meets Sherlock as a doctor, though I haven't read them I don't believe... from a tag search and quickly skimming the descriptions. I know I've probably missed a tonne or effed up somewhere, but I'd love to make another list, so if anyone has more for Liri, let me know <3

BOOKMARKS

Non-Toxic by NinjaNina2 (M, 1,713 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Parentlock with Rosie, Established Relationship, Oneshot, Stubborn Sherlock, Worried John, Doctor John, Fluff and Humour, Misunderstandings)  – Based on previous experiences, John has every right to be worried when gone for a medical conference, but what is the extent of damage This time…?!?

Q 1 HR by stillwaters01 (G, 1,795 w., 1 Ch. || New Year's Eve, Hurt/Comfort, BAMF John, Friendship, Doctor John) – On New Year’s Eve, Sherlock discovers that sometimes it’s the seemingly innocuous, rather than life-threatening, conditions that can keep John from The Work. And John is reminded just how deeply their friendship runs.

Excerpts from Purgatory by reapersun, what_alchemy (E, 5,829 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, Doctor John, Reunion Fic, Rough Sex, Angry Sex, Bottomlock, Fic with Pics)  – John serves community service in homeless shelters for chinning the superintendent. Unbeknownst to him, the Homeless Network has his back.

And A Doctor by stillwaters01 (T, 24,962 w., 6 Ch. || Five and One, BAMF John, Hurt/Comfort, Doctor John, Friendship, Character Study) – It was only when people actually saw John working as a physician that they began to understand: that it wasn’t just about bullets and IEDs and trauma care under fire. That “doctor” actually covered a pretty wide field. And that John was bloody good at covering ground. 5 times Dr. Watson treated others and 1 time he treated himself.

Turn Left at the Park by Glenmore (NR (E), 37,409 w., 28 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting / ASiP Divergence, Case Fic, Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Loneliness, No Mary, Possessive Sherlock, Fluff & Angst, Nightmares/PTSD, Sherlock Saves John, Sherlock Whump-ish, Doctor John) – So what would have happened if John hadn't walked through the park and met Stamford? What if, instead, he walked around the park and just went home?

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Realigning Gravity Series by Raina_at (E, 69,159+ w. across 2 works || Series WiP || Sci-Fi / 24th Century Future AU || Post TRF, Cybernetic John, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Developing Relationship, Anniversary, Case Fic, Happy Endings, Doctor John) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them.

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court. Part 1 of the Care And Companionship series

MARKED FOR LATER

Take me to Baker Street by MorganeUK (G, 2,087 w., 1 Ch. || Adult Ballet AU || Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Doctor John, Song Fic, Pre-Slash) – I always loved Sergei Polunin interpretation of Take me to the church so I decided to write a version where Sherlock is a ballet dancer in serious need of a doctor…

A Doctor's Touch by my_dear_man (E, 3,275 w., 1 Ch. || ACD Canon || First Time, Taking Care, Sick Sherlock, Hand Jobs, Fluff and Angst, Blow Jobs, Love Confessions, Hallucinations, Guilt, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Angst with a Happy Ending) – "I will be there, you may be sure. "I was ill at that time but not on the brink of my death bed, a nasty flu was the case, and yet, he came by to our old rooms, like the good doctor that he is and ever will be.

Fugue (n.) by reyiosa (NR [G], 3,281 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate Universe || Post-TRF, Hospital, Hallucinations, Coma, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, It Was All A Dream) – A Sherlock AU were it turns out Sherlock has made up his whole life with John as a consulting detective while stuck in a coma caused by an overdose. The real John is just a kind doctor at the hospital that sits by Sherlock’s bed and reads him detective stories.

John Hamish Watson Lestrade by MidnightMonster (G, 4,731 w., 1 Ch. || John is Lestrade's Son || ASiP, Alternate First Meeting, Older Sherlock, Younger John, POV Sherlock, Protective John) – John is Lestrade's son and is 23 years old training to be a doctor and planning to be an army-doctor. Greg's concern about John being a soldier however is pushed into the background when a new problem presents itself. Sherlock Holmes. He is worried that Sherlock will hurt John or get hurt because of him in some way. But despite his concerns and efforts of keeping them apart it seems that they can't be kept away from each other.

Wretched and Divine by meet_me_in_samarra (M, 5,130 w., 1 Ch. || Punk AU || Pining John, Seductive Sherlock, Slow Burn, Sherlock is a Doctor, Implied / Referenced Drug Use) – Dr. John Watson is on call at the A&E when he attempts to treat a very special patient. Instead he finds himself a very special treat. Part 1 of the Wretched and Divine series

Practically Perfect by vitruvianwatson (E, 6,303 w., 1 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || Age Difference, Younger Sherlock, Older John, Finger Fucking, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Office Sex, Emotionally Insecure Sherlock, Barista Sherlock, Doctor John, PWP) – There was a knock on the door, and then it opened. John shook the thoughts out of his head and looked up with his fake “I’m your kindly doctor” smile plastered on his face, but a second later his jaw dropped because his “patient” wasn’t a patient at all. It was none other than Sherlock bloody Holmes. Not only that, but he was dressed in one of his more indecent outfits—skin tight jeans that looked like they’d been bloody painted on, and a purple button-down that was straining, to say the least, to remain buttoned. John wondered if he’d worked at the coffee shop in that outfit today. He shut the door and leaned back against it with a wicked smile, and John heard the click of the lock.

The Curious Incident of the Detective, the Doctor and the Dogs in the Night by mydogwatson (T, 7,652 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting AU || Dogs, First Kiss, Honeymoon) – A meet-cute. Dogs and cases and romance. [TRANSLATION: Русский]

Not Your Doctor, Not Your Captain by weneedtotalkaboutsherlock (E, 8,645 w., 1 Ch. || AU || Daddy John, Barista Sherlock, Legal Age Difference, First Kiss/Time, Blow Jobs, Texting/Phone Sex, Anal, Rimming, Felching, Praise Kink, Hurt/Comfort, Pet Names, Doctor John) – "Coffee for John Watson," a voice calls, a low, deep rumble that sends a shiver down John's spine. The thought is pushed aside, his shoulders sagging at the sight of his long-awaited coffee. "Thank God." His eyes lock with long, elegant fingers around the rim of the cup, dimpling the carton in a way that John can only describe as sensual. It shouldn't be. It's seven-thirty in the bloody morning. "I'm afraid that God had not much to do in making your coffee this morning," the barista replies. "I, on the other hand…"

The Full Package by Kalimyre (E, 9,675 w., 3 Ch. || Omegaverse || First Time, Sex Toys, Virginity, Doctor John) – Kinkmeme fill. The clinic where John works caters specifically to Omegas experiencing their first heat. They provide top of the line service, and do anything necessary to ease their patients' discomfort. Omega!Sherlock is his latest patient.

Quid Pro Quo by J_Baillier (T, 10,035 w., 3 Ch. || Alternate Professions ||  Doctor John, Medical Conditions, Developing Relationship, Bisexual John, Sherlock’s Violin, Minor Injuries) – John Watson is a sports surgeon who thought he was at peace with his career choices but this morning, he's meeting a new patient who might just break the brittle life balance John has constructed.

Iris by Leloi (E, 11,302 w., 1 Ch. || Omegaverse || Time Travel, Mpreg, Infertility, Virgin Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Omega Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) –John Watson was quickly learning to hate the Victorian Era. It wasn’t just the lack of proper medical care… Although that was a rather large component. It was the filth. It was the misery and the lack of regard for human life. Ok… So maybe the lack of proper medical care was a major component. It was difficult being a 21st century medical doctor stuck with 19th century technology. There was some sort of time travel involved. The really strange part is that there was a past version of himself living with a past version of Sherlock Holmes. Ok… So maybe that wasn’t the strangest part either. He seemed to be stuck in an alternate universe.

Assistance Required by Soft_Light (E, 12,162 w., 4 Ch. || PWP, Viagra, Sleepy Sherlock, Sleepy Cuddle, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Developing Relationship, Bisexual John, Demisexual Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Hair Playing, What Boundaries, It’s an Experiment) – Sherlock takes Viagra for an experiment. You can probably guess a lot of what happens next.

Transference by Jean Elizabeth (E, 16,846 w., 6 Ch. || Mental Hospital AU || Schizophrenic Sherlock, Psychologist John, Paranoia, Affairs, Friendship, Sexual Tension, Forbidden Love, Pining John, Sherlock’s Feelings, Sick Sherlock, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Angst and Humour, Sherlock/Victor, Dev. Rel. Johnlock) – Sherlock Holmes has been admitted to a mental institution for paranoid schizophrenia. He is assigned to psychologist Doctor John Watson who he inevitably begins a love affair with. John must wrestle with his guilt in putting not only his job, but Sherlock's mental well-being, in danger. Sherlock struggles with his mental disorder while living in a confining and controlling environment. So much angst and pain that can only be dulled one night a week.

keywords: Gay, Loving, Boyfriends by lookupkate (E, 17,771 w., 17 Ch. || Doctor John AU || Alternate First Meeting, Hospitals, John Writes Smut, Sherlock Reads Smut Fanfiction) – John starts writing gay romance while holed up in hospital. Sherlock reads the first fic on accident, and it sticks with him for days. He can't help but read more from the unknown writer. Little does he know, the writer isn't exactly unknown to him. The writer happens to be the A&E Doctor he's feuding with. Christ, can you imagine what he'll think once he finds out? 

Hello, Hamish by Norma_de_Plume (M, 23,833 w., 18 Ch. || John/OMC and Johnlock || Pre-TRF, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Confused John, Mild Knife Violence, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Jealous Sherlock, Doctor John, Mutual Pining, Scheming Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, BAMF John, Hurt / Comfort) – John and Sherlock never imagined that their relationship could ever be more than flatmates and best friends. Hoped, perhaps...but... *ahem* Could one person change that? What if someone else had their eye on Dr. Watson? What if it wasn't a woman?

The Scientist's Method by spacemutineer (T, 26,607 w., 7 Ch. || ACD / Granada Holmes Canon || Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt / Comfort, Time Loop, Blood / Injury, Doctor John, Developing Relationship, BAMF John, Temporary Character Death, Guilt, Drug Use / Addiction, Grief / Mourning, Friendship / Love) – Sherlock Holmes has always known the world through the straightforward lenses of evidence, logic, and reasoning. But when Watson is caught in a tragic preventable disaster, his trusted clear lines of reality start to shift and blur, and the scientist detective begins to piece together a grand discovery far beyond even his exceptional imagination. Detection is a way of learning and science is a way of knowing, but as Sherlock Holmes is about to realise, love is a way of understanding.

When We Were Young by Calais_Reno (T, 27,230 w., 10 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting AU || First Love, Nostalgia, Pre and Post TRF, Doctor John, Angst with Happy Ending) – John and Sherlock met at school, and were a bit more than friends. But they didn't stay in touch afterwards. Life goes on, and when John returns from Afghanistan, he takes a position at Barts as a trauma specialist, working in the Emergency Department. As he reports for work one day, a man jumps off the roof of the hospital. John's world tilts on its axis.

We'll Meet Again by isitandwonder (E, 29,306 w., 7 Ch. || 1940′s WWII AU || Semi-Public Sex, Blow / Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Love Letters, Prolonged Separation, Implied/Referenced Rape, Epistolary, War Crimes, Infidelity, Reunion Sex, Magical Realism, Ghosts, Suicide, Sad with Happy Ending) – London during WW II: Doctor John Watson has a hot, anonymous brief encounter with a beautiful stranger during blackout. But they get interrupted. Will they ever meet again? Bittersweet Johnlock WWII AU with a twist to the present day in the end.

No Power of Mind by ab_initio (M, 29,436 w., 12 Ch. || Mental Hospital AU || Sherlock Sees Dead People, Mystrade) – On Monday, it's the Woman. Tuesday brings Henry Knight. Wednesday is Magnussen. Greg is Thursday followed by Moriarty on Friday. Sherlock see dead people in his palace of white. When Mycroft hires Doctor John Watson to take care of Sherlock, Sherlock wonders how long this doctor will last. As time passes, the doctor-patient relationship drifts away and Sherlock's visions begin to take control. As his sanity slips away, John tries to hold on and bring Sherlock back from the depths of his mind.

A Doctor in the House by KittenKin (T, 32,394 w., 24 Ch. || TEH Fix It, Hurt/Comfort, Doctor John, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, First Kiss) – A replacement for Series 3 Episode 1 of BBC's "Sherlock", because my John would never. Part 1 of the A Doctor in the House series

To Help Another by DrFish (E, 38,898 w., 20 Ch. || Omegaverse || Rape/Non-Con, Omega Sherlock, Alpha John, BAMF John, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Mating Cycles, Bonding, Non-Con Drugs, Violence, Knotting, Oral Sex, Past Sexual Abuse, Illness, Doctor John, Case Fic, Come Inflation, Porn With Plot, Vulnerable Sherlock, Pillows and Blanket Forts, Nightmares, Kidnapping, Grief/Mourning, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Dirty Talk, Discipline) – Dr. John Watson has been invalided out of the Army and he is struggling to come to terms with what's left of his life. When he agrees to help out with a difficult case at the hospital where he works as an emergency room physician, he not only saves this particular abused omega and others like him, but he discovers a new and better life for himself in the process.

The Montague Street Doctor by The_Circus (T, 61,488 w., 13 Ch. || Post-TRF, ACD Canon-Feeling Relationship, Gen/No Slash, Montague Street, Doctor John, Care in the Community, Reunion) – Just because Sherlock stopped, doesn't mean the Work has to. London is John's city now and he will keep it together with stitching, string, his healing, the food off his table, and sometimes the clothes off his back. John Watson keeps going. He's good at that.

A Telling Touch by MiyakoToudaiji (E, 91,656 w., 28 Ch. || Post-TRF Divergence, Reunion, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Soldier John, Friends to Lovers, BAMF John, Doctor John, War, Syria, Violence, Blood, Injury, Fighting, Soulmates, True Love, First Kiss / Time, Slow Build, Romance, Christmas, Family, Holmes Manor, Childhood Memories, Sherlock’s Violin, Case Fic) – After Sherlock’s death, John manages to get himself re-enlisted and is sent back to war. But when two series of gruesome murders link home and outland together, John is suddenly faced with more battles than he could have imagined.  

You Go To My Head Series by 7PercentSolution and J_Baillier (E, 987,192 w. across 23 Works || Surgeon AU || Medical Realism, Autism Spectrum, Anaesthetist John / Neurosurgeon Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Addiction, Angst, Slow Burn, PTSD, Pining, Insecurity, Additional Tags Under Link) – This series is an alternate universe one, featuring the exciting medical and romantic adventures of doctors Watson and Holmes.

WORKS IN PROGRESS

How They Move In Silence by Breath4Soul (M, 5,186 w., 4/? Ch. || WiP || Doctor John, Doctor/Patient, Voiceless Sherlock, Sick Sherlock, Texting) – Sherlock loses his voice and has to communicate through texts which leads to love confessions.

we are more than the footnotes my love by poechild (T, 17,874+ w., 1 of 2 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Unilock, Drug Addict Sherlock, Caring / Doctor John, Protective John, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-ASiP, Pining John, Massage, Shaving, Hurt Sherlock, Concussions, Drug Withdrawal) – A druggie kisses John on the street then steals his wallet. John, of course, takes him home.

20,000 leagues under the sea: A Victorian Sherlock AU by MorganeUK (G, 30,544+ w., 15/? Ch || Victorian Steampunk AU || WiP || Scientist Sherlock, Submarines) – The Holmes Brothers are living under the sea, protected from the world violence and general stupidity… Alone, with only a small crew, they explore the world inside their submersible. Perfectly satisfied and unaware of their loneliness, until they meet Captain Lestrade and Doctor Watson from the Royal Navy.

Only Yesterday by Berty (T, 47,530+ w., 18/20 Ch. || WiP || Alternate Timelines / 'Yesterday' AU || Post-TRF, POV John, Grief, Mental Instability, Angst, Unrequited Love, Suspense, Scotland, Hurt John, Developing Relationship, Doctor John, John is a Mess) – Sherlock has been gone for two years and John Watson is doing okay. He goes to work. He sleeps (sometimes). He eats. He has colleagues, some of whom are even friends. He has purpose. If it's not a life as others might view it, it's a fair approximation. It's fine. He's fine. One night the lights go out and when they come back on everything is the same except for one important thing. For John it's the most important thing. And suddenly John is not fine at all.

Vampires In London Series by Madam_Fandom (E, 148,590+ w. across 4 works || Series WiP || Vampire AU || Vampire Sherlock, Psychic/Empath John, Mutual Pining, Blood Drinking, Feeding, Jealousy, Angst, Implied / Referenced Rape/Non Con, Graphic Violence, Past Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Physical /Emotional / Psychological Abuse, Vampire Sex, First Time, Doctor John, Bisexual John) – John is a doctor and nothing ever happens to him, and then it does. He meets two fascinating men at a fundraiser...he soon finds out vampires are real and they are in London.

Care And Companionship Series by elldotsee and J_Baillier (E, 209,820+ w. across 5 works || Series WiP || Me Before You Fusion || Angst, Romance, Depression, Medical Ethics, Insecure Sherlock, Serious Illness, Permanent Injury, Sherlock Whump, BAMF John, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Physical Rehabilitation, Medical Realism, Assisted Suicide, Awkward Sex, Friends to Lovers, Alcoholism, John Whump, PTSD, Anxiety, Family Drama, Caretaker John, Alternating POVs) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

UNEXPECTED OCCURENCE by Victoria557 (M, 295,878+ w., 124/? Ch. || WiP || Post-TRF Divergence, Unexpected Parenthood, PTSD, Trauma, Child Abandonment, Slow Burn, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Self-Harm, Intrusive Thoughts, Doctor John, Self-Esteem Issues, Anxiety Disorder, Misunderstandings, No Mary) – Barely five months after Sherlock's death, John was slowly yet so ever damn surely falling apart. Every day since then, he had just been surviving not living. When Lestrade phone him, with nervousness and uncertainty in his voice, asking for some help with a case since Anderson who usually did the forensic stuff, and another worker who examined the body had been unfortunately unavailable and with the downfall of Lestrade's record recently, he couldn't afford to risk another scolding from his supervisor, John agreed, despite the forming of the painful twist in his stomach at the thought of being at a crime scene without a certain arrogant high-functioning sociopath. Never did he expect to encounter such a surreal event and never did he expect to find out Sherlock having a secret - well secret would be unfitting as the man himself didn't realize this.

[beardedmrbean]

Few in the media seemed eager to attend a ceremony last week in Washington, D.C., where the prestigious American Academy of Sciences and Letters was awarding its top intellectual freedom award.

The problem may have been the recipient: Stanford Professor Dr. Jay Bhattacharya.

Bhattacharya has spent years being vilified by the media over his dissenting views on the pandemic. As one of the signatories of the 2020 Great Barrington Declaration, he was canceled, censored, and even received death threats.

That open letter called on government officials and public health authorities to rethink the mandatory lockdowns and other extreme measures in light of past pandemics.

All the signatories became targets of an orthodoxy enforced by an alliance of political, corporate, media, and academic groups. Most were blocked on social media despite being accomplished scientists with expertise in this area.

It did not matter that positions once denounced as “conspiracy theories” have been recognized or embraced by many.

Some argued that there was no need to shut down schools, which has led to a crisis in mental illness among the young and the loss of critical years of education. Other nations heeded such advice with more limited shutdowns (including keeping schools open) and did not experience our losses.

Others argued that the virus’s origin was likely the Chinese research lab in Wuhan. That position was denounced by the Washington Post as a “debunked” coronavirus “conspiracy theory.” The New York Times Science and Health reporter Apoorva Mandavilli called any mention of the lab theory “racist.”

Federal agencies now support the lab theory as the most likely based on the scientific evidence.

The Biden administration tried to censor this Stanford doctor, but he won in court

Likewise, many questioned the efficacy of those blue surgical masks and supported natural immunity to the virus — both positions were later recognized by the government.

Others questioned the six-foot rule used to shut down many businesses as unsupported by science. In congressional testimony, Dr. Anthony Fauci recently admitted that the 6-foot rule “sort of just appeared” and “wasn’t based on data.” Yet not only did the rule result in heavily enforced rules (and meltdowns) in public areas, the media further ostracized dissenting critics.

Again, Fauci and other scientists did little to stand up for these scientists or call for free speech to be protected. As I discuss in my new book, “The Indispensable Right,” the result is that we never really had a national debate on many of these issues and the result of massive social and economic costs.

I spoke at the University of Chicago with Bhattacharya and other dissenting scientists in the front row a couple of years ago. After the event, I asked them how many had been welcomed back to their faculties or associations since the recognition of some of their positions.

They all said that they were still treated as pariahs for challenging the groupthink culture.

Now the scientific community is recognizing the courage shown by Bhattacharya and others with its annual Robert J. Zimmer Medal for Intellectual Freedom.

So what about all of those in government, academia, and the media who spent years hounding these scientists?

Universities shred their ethics to aid Biden’s social-media censorship

Biden Administration officials and Democratic members targeted Bhattacharya and demanded his censorship. For example, Rep. Raja Krishnamoorthi (D-Ill.) attacked  Bhattacharya and others who challenged the official narrative during the pandemic. Krishnamoorthi expressed outrage that the scientists were even allowed to testify as “a purveyor of COVID-19 misinformation.”

Journalists and columnists also supported the censorship and blacklisting of these scientists. In the Los Angeles Times, columnist Michael Hiltzik decried how “we’re living in an upside-down world” because Stanford allowed these scientists to speak at a scientific forum. He was outraged that, while “Bhattacharya’s name doesn’t appear in the event announcement,” he was an event organizer. Hiltzik also wrote a column titled “The COVID lab leak claim isn’t just an attack on science, but a threat to public health.” 

Then there are those lionized censors at Twitter who shadow-banned Bhattacharya. As former CEO Parag Agrawal generally explained, the “focus [was] less on thinking about free speech … [but[ who can be heard.”

None of this means that Bhattacharya or others were right in all of their views. Instead, many of the most influential voices in the media, government, and academia worked to prevent this discussion from occurring when it was most needed.

There is still a debate over Bhattacharya’s “herd immunity” theories, but there is little debate over the herd mentality used to cancel him.

The Academy was right to honor Bhattacharya. It is equally right to condemn all those who sought to silence a scientist who is now being praised for resisting their campaign to silence him and others.

[simply-ivanka]

A Minnesotan Sizes Up Tim Walz

During his tenure, student achievement has slipped, crime has surged, and state residents have fled.

By Scott W. Johnson - Wall Street Journal

St. Paul, Minn.

Tim Walz has such a bad record as Minnesota’s governor that I was astonished when he landed on Vice President Kamala Harris’s vice-presidential shortlist. As Minnesota’s Center of the American Experiment has documented, under Mr. Walz Minnesota has become a high-crime state. Student achievement has tumbled as spending on schools has skyrocketed. Per capita gross domestic product has fallen below the national average. Minnesotans have joined residents of New York, California and Illinois in fleeing their home state.

Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro—also on Ms. Harris’s shortlist—made sense to me. Pennsylvania is a key state. Mr. Shapiro seems to be a man of substance and would give liberal Jews a reason to vote for Ms. Harris without a guilty conscience. As a Jewish supporter of Israel, I worried that Mr. Shapiro would give the animus throbbing in the heart of the Democratic Party cover. Indeed, that animus drove a nasty intraparty campaign against him.

But Tim Walz? I’m a conservative Republican. I don’t completely understand Democrats’ ways. As an observer of Minnesota politics, however, I understand how Mr. Walz became governor. Having served six terms in Congress from a rural district, he challenged the endorsed DFL (Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party) candidate—a liberal metro-area state senator, Erin Murphy—in the 2018 DFL primary. Ms. Murphy was also challenged by another metro-area liberal, Lori Swanson, then state attorney general. With Ms. Murphy and Ms. Swanson dividing the liberal urban vote, Mr. Walz and his far-left running mate, former state Rep. Peggy Flanagan, won the primary with 41%.

On taking office in 2019, Gov. Walz was restrained by a one-seat Republican majority in the state Senate—until Covid hit in the spring of 2020. He declared a state of emergency on March 25, 2020, and ruled by decree for 15 months. He proclaimed the emergency on the basis of an allegedly sophisticated Minnesota Model projection of the virus’s course in the state. In fact, the projection reflected a weekend’s work by graduate students at the University of Minnesota School of Public Health. Relying on their research, Mr. Walz presented a scenario in which an estimated 74,000 Minnesotans would perish from the virus. The following week the Star Tribune reported that with the lockdown Mr. Walz ordered, 50,000 would die. Maybe it would have been preferable to address the virus through democratic means.

Having destroyed jobs and impeded life routines, including family get-togethers and church attendance, Mr. Walz finally let his one-man rule lapse on July 1, 2021. When the Johns Hopkins Coronavirus Resource Center stopped counting in March 2023, the deaths of 14,870 Minnesotans were attributed to the virus. (In 2020 I successfully sued the administration for excluding me from Health Department press briefings on Covid.)

During the state of emergency, protests broke out in Minneapolis on Memorial Day 2020 following the death of George Floyd. That Thursday, rioters burned Minneapolis’s Third Precinct police station to the ground. Mr. Walz didn’t deploy the National Guard until the weekend. Riots, arson and looting throughout the Twin Cities caused about $500 million in damage.

Minnesota leads the nation in Covid fraud. Under the auspices of the Feeding Our Future nonprofit, its founder, Aimee Bock, allegedly recruited mostly young Somali men to seek reimbursement for millions of meals supposedly served to poor students and families. According to indictments handed up by a grand jury to U.S. Attorney Andrew Luger, Ms. Bock and others allegedly defrauded the state and federal government of $250 million. Ms. Bock has pleaded not guilty to the fraud charges.

Among the 70 defendants charged to date, 18 have pleaded guilty. In April the first of the cases to go to trial had seven defendants; five were convicted. The remaining cases have yet to be tried. In all, the Minnesota Department of Education oversaw the payout of $250 million to reimburse fictitious meals. The nature and scale of the fraud are staggering. Mr. Walz tried to blame state district court judge John Guthmann, who in April 2021 handled a case regarding the department’s processing of applications for reimbursements. According to Mr. Walz, Judge Guthmann ordered the state to continue payouts to the alleged perpetrators of the fraud even after the state Education Department discovered it.

In September 2022, Judge Guthmann authorized a news release titled “Correcting media reports and statements by Gov. Tim Walz concerning orders issued by the court.” The release concluded: “As the public court record and Judge Guthmann’s orders make plain, Judge Guthmann never issued an order requiring the MN Department of Education to resume food reimbursement payments to FOF. The Department of Education voluntarily resumed payments and informed the court that FOF resolved the ‘serious deficiencies’ that prompted it to suspend payments temporarily. All of the MN Department of Education food reimbursement payments to FOF were made voluntarily, without any court order.”

In November 2022 Mr. Walz was elected to a second term, and the DFL won majorities in both chambers of the Legislature. In the preceding two years the state had accumulated an $18 billion budget surplus. With the DFL in full control, Mr. Walz and the Legislature have spent the $18 billion surplus on infrastructure, education and other programs that will burden the state for years. They have also raised taxes.

Mr. Walz and his DFL colleagues have backed measures establishing Minnesota as a mecca for abortion and a “trans refuge.” The legislation prohibits enforcing out-of-state subpoenas, arrest warrants and extradition requests for people from other states who seek treatment that is legal in Minnesota. It also bars complying with court orders issued in other states to remove children from their parents’ custody for authorizing hormone treatment or surgery to alter sex characteristics.

Like so many Democrats who have kept up with the demands of the progressive agenda, Mr. Walz has “grown” in office. In his second term, he has been the most left-wing Minnesota governor since the socialist Floyd B. Olson (1931-36). I doubt that Mr. Walz could be elected to Congress in his old district, which is now represented by a Republican. The idea that he can appeal to voters who don’t already support Ms. Harris seems far-fetched.

Mr. Johnson is a retired Minneapolis attorney and contributor to the site Power Line.

[artist-issues]

ohhh it’s like maybe an allegory for the coronavirus lockdown?

…okay i get why putting that under a microscope would have fearful elements but like what about a werewolf and transforming into a non-understanding beast lends itself to that wait I just got it.

If it’s like “We were all under lockdown and isolation and all we had was out-of-proportion fear-flavored social media to connect with, i.e. we felt like everyone around us was changing into non-understanding monsters, so we turned against them” okay, I get it.

But it’s probably not a 1-to-1 allegory.

If it was, a werewolf story is still a really weird choice of premise for that. Because like how are you going to resolve it?

The mom would need to come up with a way to reach the dad, in his werewolf-ness, by realizing that A) something about the infection and his actions as a werewolf is completely fear-motivated and then B) she has to come up with a way to calm the fear that’s “exacerbating his condition” in order to talk him down. Re-establish understanding.

Except the fear was amplifying our inability to understand one another during the lockdown, which led to bad communication. But bad communication is what caused the fear in the first place. So like. It’s a circular problem.

I think I’m talking myself into wanting to see this movie.

But he still looks like stupid Big Buff Gollum. Not a werewolf. So also, why would I see this movie.

You know what I would do? I would have the family established as kind of bad at communicating in the first place—like, that’s their real-world problem—but it’s brought to sharp focus because of a new scary thing happening in their life.

Like, maybe they’re moving. They’re moving, because Dad just lost his job and has to get a new one in a totally new town. He’s scared that his failures are snowballing, and he won’t be able to keep this job either and provide for his family. Mom’s lowkey scared of that, too, and he can sense it, (for some relatable reason, like maybe because her father walked out on her family after losing his job when she was a kid) and it’s creating tension in the marriage.

Maybe the dad was fired because he tried to pull off this big business risk that everyone older and more seasoned than him was telling him not to do, and he did it anyway, because he’s prideful, and it blew up in his face. Then, to make matters worse, he recently stumbled into a destructive habit to cope—like, maybe he came home drunk for the first time, ever, after getting fired, and the Mom didn’t even really know he had a problem with alcohol up until this point.

So he’s scared he’s losing his family because of his mistakes, and his mistakes happened because of a fear of…losing his job and then losing his family, when he felt pressure at work in the first place. So he’s been doing a self-fulfilling prophecy thing to himself. The wife’s starting to struggle with that, too. She’s processing the fact that he’s lost his job and moved them and also maybe has a problem with alcohol or whatever substance abuse—she’s still processing it. It would be one thing if what Dad did just affected her, but they have a daughter.

And Daughter is still learning what to fear and what not to fear. And she’s learning it from Mom and Dad, who are both figuring out how to make her feel comfortable with this move, but there’s marital tension getting in the way.

So when we meet them, they’re driving a moving truck to their new home. The dad is overcompensating, insisting on being the one to drive all through the night, doing all these little things to try and prove he’s got it all covered (even though he just lost his job for making a dumb big-ego move, and then freaked his wife out by coming home drunk the same night.) Everything he’s doing to prove he’s got it covered is actually fear-based pride, and it’s just making the wife a little more tense with him, because him being so insecure and stressed is making her feel insecure and stressed. Plus, their circumstances as a family just got rocky overnight, and she’s had very little time to process. So every time she offers her two cents in any given situation, or tries to help, he takes it as a lack of faith in him and brushes it off, and she takes that as him pushing her away. Which he kind of is.

And then there’s the Daughter, who has no idea what’s happening, she’s young, she’s never moved anywhere before and she really just needs her parents to clearly communicate that everything is going to be okay because they love each other no matter what else changes—actually, let’s make that the Main Point: “Family Shows One Another That They’re Loved, No Matter What Else Changes.” That’s the point of our werewolf movie.

But! Her parents aren’t doing a good job of teaching that to her right now, because they’re not relying on one another anymore. The Dad needs the Mom to show him that even if he fails, she’ll stick with him. But because he’s afraid she won’t, he’s not communicating that that’s what he’s afraid of. So he keeps making all these fear-based macho decisions, and it’s a vicious cycle. (WE’RE TITLING THIS MOVIE “VICIOUS CYCLE”, DO YOU GET IT, LIKE CYCLES OF THE MOON)

And the Mom, she needs the Dad to show her that he won’t give up and hurt them (emotionally or physically) because of mounting pressure. She is showing him that fear, but that’s all she’s showing him. She’s not showing him faith that he can stick it out. The daughter doesn’t even know what to be afraid of, she’s learning that through the movie.

So! That’s where we meet them. And then they’re driving their moving truck through Creepy Nighttime Woods, and Mom’s like, “I can drive if you need a break,” and Dad just shakes his head and shrugs her off all “I-Got-This”, do you get it, it’s a mini-example of their whole issue.

There’s uncomfortable silence, the mom looks back to check on the daughter, expecting her to be asleep, but she’s wide-awake and doing that kid thing where they stare and keep their ears open and just observe their parents’ weird interaction. She’s just holding a little stuffed dragon animal, sitting there, an antenna to catch all their mysterious marital subtext.

Daughter asks Mom how far they are from their new house, and Mom looks at her phone and says, “just an hour, sweetie,” but then Dad answers at the same time, “three hours,” and points to his own GPS, and the Mom realizes their phones are mapping different routes to get to their destination. The Dad picked a route that supposedly has less traffic and isn’t on the freeway. That’s why they’re in Creepy Nighttime Woods.

Mom says something like, “why are we going this way,” and Dad reacts with nervous, reassuring “Leave It To Me” language, but it’s tense—

And then BAM Something comes out of the woods. In the middle of the road.

Dad swerves to avoid it, Mom screams his name in fear (and a teensy bit of involuntary resentment, the knee-jerk “why is the vehicle you’re driving suddenly moving so shockingly” way) and the whole moving truck topples and wrecks. It can be like in the trailer where the Dad comes to with the truck half-hanging off a steep drop, Random Guy in the passenger seat falls out, gets nabbed by some beast, scary scary.

(The Random Guy needs to be there for story-later reasons. Maybe he’s an ex-coworker and friend of Dad’s who feels bad that Dad got fired and offered to go with to help them move, like a real bro. But he’s asleep when the first interaction between Mom and Dad happens)

But you know what I’d do, the monster that takes Random Guy would look like a Beast. A big hairy animal. A frighteningly fast, slavering, bristling creature.

Dad has already helped Mom and Daughter out of the precarious truck when he sees this happen to Random Guy. Then just like in the trailer, the Beast jumps up, trying to get at him in the vehicle, its way too fast to see, but it only gets one crazy slash in before falling. It’s attack upsets the delicate balance of the truck, and Dad, bleeding from the cut, climbs out and tells them to run. It’s just in time, too, because the truck goes smashing down the drop.

They do, Daughter alarmed and asking, “what?? what is it?” and Mom not wanting to run because she didn’t really see any of that with the Beast, and all of their possessions just fell down the embankment plus it’s not really normal to start running from the scene of a car wreck and their friend Random Guy is down there, assumedly buried under the truck now.

But Dad screams at her about it, which is pretty out-of-character and a motivating tipoff to Mom that something immediately dangerous is happening, so they all take off. They don’t know which way to go, there’s a tense moment where they stop and Mom is arguing with Dad because of that, then a horrifying Something makes a Sound somewhere between roaring and screaming nearby, and they all panic again and flee.

They catch sight of the dilapidated one-story house, which looks empty, and Dad breaks in. They all huddle inside, and the Sound happens again—they look out the window Dad broke to get them in, and through the fog and darkness, there’s an even darker mass on the edge of the woods. It’s just a vaguely moving blur on the horizon at first, but then they see the steady evil lights of two predator eyes, staring across the yard.

Mom shrieks that it’ll get in through the hole he made, and they block that up in a blind panic while Daughter stands against the wall behind them, staring with big eyes at her dad’s bleeding arm. They wait to see if it’s coming, but it doesn’t seem to be. No more loud guttural bellowing either. After a minute or two of heavy breathing and silence, Daughter starts crying for her stuffed dragon. It got dropped in the woods during the chase scene. Mom goes to comfort her, while dad remains at the window, leaning against the bookcase, looking at their surroundings.

They’re in a house that’s partially wrecked. There are photographs in shattered frames on the ground of an old man and his grandsons. The old man is the only one holding a fish, and he’s smiling, but the two grandsons in the picture look uncomfortable. Like they don’t know him very well. There are also several broken beer bottles on the ground, and whoever used to live here apparently left in a hurry.

Dad goes to call for help. They left their phones in the truck, but the old man who lived here apparently had a landline. Who has landlines anymore? Dad tries to use it, but it doesn’t work. Well of course it doesn’t. Because who has landlines?

Mom is taking Daughter away from the window and a subconscious protective instinct makes her want to get the kid in the center of the building. She sits Daughter in a bedroom, which was closed, but the door opens to reveal that unlike the rest of the house it’s a dusty, neatly organized little boy’s room with bunk beds. It looks even more deeply untouched than the rest of the house.

Daughter starts to ask where Random Guy is, still crying, and Mom says they don’t know, but—and then Dad sticks his head in and interrupts and says Random Guy is “checking on the truck,” which is believable to Daughter because she’s little and didn’t see where Random Guy went, but it’s a lie, and Mom is surprised he’s dealing with the situation by telling a lie, even if it was to protect the daughter from immediate trauma.

Dad catches that look, and almost like he wants an excuse to get away from it, he says he’ll go get Dragon and check on the truck. Mom immediately protests—she thinks they should all stay there, because of obvious reasons, but she doesn’t want to freak Daughter out by mentioning the dangerous Thing they just escaped. Daughter also doesn’t want Dad to go anywhere, which heartens him.

Dad compromises by saying they’ll have a slumber party, then he’ll “check on the truck” in the morning. Daughter doesn’t like this idea, looking around at the dark strange house; her adrenaline is still pumping and the concept of “bedtime” is immediately terrifying. Fears brought to the forefront of her little mind, she asks what that scary roaring sound was while they were running.

Dad takes her from Mom and sets her on the bed. He tells Daughter “it was Dragon, protecting you, out in the woods. Remember what Dragon’s job is?”

“Protect the Princess.”

“That’s right, Protect the Princess.”

The Daughter may or may not be buying this explanation. “It was scary,” she says tremulously. Dad glances warily at mom and keeps it going. “Well sometimes being scary is part of the job. He has to be scary, and roar like that. To scare anything bad away from you.”

Daughter is sort of calming down, because mom has found a different, dusty toy dragon in the boy’s room. This one is a plastic action figure instead of stuffed, but she hands it to the Daughter, sort of helping to ground the kid in their new surroundings. Daughter asks if this is their new house, and Dad says it’s not, they’re just “borrowing it” for the night because nobody’s here, but “after Dragon comes back,” they’ll all go to their new house together.

Cuts to Mom easing herself out from underneath sleeping Daughter, and kneeling down next to Dad. He’s on the floor, unrolling dusty sleeping bags onto the bunk bed’s other mattress. She asks what they’re going to do, and he says he’ll go out and get their phones from the Truck as soon as it’s light, and call for help. As he’s saying this, he’s having a hard time using just one arm to get the sleeping bag unzipped. It’s been out of use for a while.

And this, so much longer after the fact, is the first time Mom notices his arm wound. She reaches to help him, alarmed and saying something fast like, “what is that? When did that happen?” but he pulls away on a reflex (because ouch) and says, “it’s fine,” then, trying to sound cavalier and a little funny so she doesn’t worry or get her feelings hurt that he pulled away like a child with a scab, “As long as I don’t touch it. It got a little piece of me, but it’s fine.”

This is the kind of personality the Dad character has. He’s very charming, but his personality naturally lends itself to kind of put-on, casual bravado at default.

She wants to clean it. He says he can do it, she can stay with Daughter, and goes out to look through the abandon house’s medicine cabinet. While he does, we can have some quick scary flashbacks cut in, between his tired dirty face in the bathroom mirror and the freaky-blurred-glimpse of teeth and snarl-wrinkles from the attack in the car, and predator eyes in the dark.

Traumatized, he makes sure all the doors are locked, sits on the couch for a little bit with the vague hope that his friend Random Guy isn’t dead and will come staggering up to the door, finds a shotgun in a montage of poking around the house, and then he’s exhausted so he tries to sleep with his wife in the kid’s room. It’s fitful. Because of course it is. And his arm, bandaged now, looks worse. He wakes up in a sweat at dawn and finds that he’s alone; his wife is now curled with their daughter on the bunk bed.

Dad stares at them for a moment, then gets up, rubbing his injured arm, now like triple-wrapped in a bandage.

Cut to Mom exiting the bedroom, careful not to wake Daughter, mindfully removing the now-empty sleeping bag from the area with a concerned glance down at the bloodstains on it. She looks up and around for Dad, and, when she makes it to the window, nudges a crack in the makeshift barricade just in time to see him, toting the shotgun, heading into the woods. She looks helplessly over her shoulder at the bedroom, and then strains to keep him in view as long as possible.

—-

Dad goes out to the wreckage of the truck in dense morning fog and there’s a gradually-mounting, tense sequence of him poking around. First of all, when the truck swerved, it apparently crashed and snagged on more than just a tree��it hit an old telephone pole and took it and the phone lines down with it. No wonder the stupid landline doesn’t work; he wrecked that like he wrecked keeping control of the truck. It’s all downhill from Dad noticing that.

Like, literally! Maybe he can slip trying to get down the steep drop (after all, he has to try and get their phones) and it’s the fault of his injured arm. He loses his grip on the shotgun during that fall and it’s out of view somewhere.

No worries; things are slightly less scary in the day, and he can at least see any predator coming. Besides, there’s a blood trail leading off into the woods where Random Guy was taken…so it’s throat-closingly awful to think about, but maybe the Animal is full, for right now. He looks like he’s considering following that trail, but then remembers the top priority.

First Dad tries to get into the cab of the truck, where he can immediately see that his own phone is totally smashed. I like the idea of it buried under a few other hard objects that were flying around the cabin during the wreck, and one of those is a case of beer.

When he tries to climb into the backseat, where his wife’s phone was last seen, he catches a glimpse of blood smeared across the rear passenger window (which is now pressed into the forest floor, because the truck’s on it’s side.) This blood is in a completely different place than the trail of blood that indicated Random Guy, getting dragged away from the scene of their wreckage last night.

So it’s not Random Guy’s blood. Did the truck squash the creature that attacked him as it fell? If so, how did it follow them back to the house?

Dad doesn’t have time to figure that out, because there’s Something in the woods. He can’t see it, from where he is in the fallen truck, but he can hear it. Heavy breathing. He listens for a second, terrified, staring helplessly out at the shotgun which he can infuriatingly now see through the front windshield, cross the clearing where it rolled after the fall. But after an eternity of listening to leaf-mold crunching and labored breathing, he suddenly hears a human sound. Like a groan, warbling its way out of a weirdly-deep bass breath.

So with that, he decides to get out of the truck. He creeps out, because even if it is a human, he has to pull himself headfirst out of the cab’s window-facing-the-sky, with an injured arm, and that’s a vulnerable position, and he doesn’t know who’s out there. But he does it anyway, because it sounds like the person’s in pain. Even if it doesn’t have the voice of his friend Random Guy.

So Dad drags himself up and sticks his torso out of the car with a, “hey,” and at first the audience is treated just to a view of him looking uphill…and all we can see in the foreground is a pair of grimy bare feet, the legs of which are tense and jerking around like the rest of the body is in a silent-standing-wrestling match with something invisible. The jerky almost-seizure movement is causing the only sound: slightly rustling the leaves. When Dad turns his head and looks in the direction of the camera, at the owner of the trembling bare feet, his face is transfixed with horror.

Well do kind of a pan from around the back of dad’s head just in time to catch a glimpse of what is probably a man—but something’s wrong, he’s moving all hunched over and there’s something scary about how fast, and he might be naked??—stumbling out of sight into some brush with one throaty wordless noise of fear. What’s also horrifying is the otherwise mute-strangeness of the encounter—Dad does not call out to try to get the person to stay.

He pulls himself out of the truck and staggers over to the shotgun. He picks it up and starts following the trail of blood, with many a look over his shoulder, creeped out by the hobo or whatever-it-was that he caught a glimpse of. (It’s the werewolf who slashed him, but it’s dawn, so he caught sight of it mid-transformation back into a guy, that’s what I’m trying to say.) But in his other trembling hand is his wife’s phone—also smashed. The case has one of those clear backs that you can slip a Polaroid into, and there’s one of Mom and Daughter swinging on their old home’s porch swing. He can’t go back virtually empty-handed, with no answers about their friend and no working phones.

Dad finds Random Guy’s corpse at the end of the trail. It is not graphic, I don’t do graphic. But we see enough to know that it definitely is a corpse, and that, weirdly, Dad’s look of horror and revulsion slowly fades after crouching down beside the body. (The actor’s gotta be real good at nonverbal narrative.)

Dad actually drops the wife’s phone and reaches for his friend’s bloodied arm with a very unsettling look on his face. He doesn’t look disgusted or afraid or grieved, he looks something else. There’s heavy animal-breathing, apparently coming from his own imagination, getting louder and louder in his head. But then he blinks at his own arm as it reaches, an inch away from touching the gory limb, trembling. Dad blinks again, like he’s seeing his own bandage for the first time somehow. He comes to himself, and now there’s real horror in his eyes. He stares at his bandaged arm, then the bloodied stump he’d been about to grab, then out at the woods. He grabs the shotgun, and stumbles backward away from his friend’s body. He’s practically fleeing the scene, as if he killed the man.

Cut to Dad picking up Dragon, the stuffed animal, where it fell, bundling it into the same grip he has on his wife’s useless phone. He’s got one hand full of those and the other still carrying the shotgun as he enters the house.

The next scene would be Dad kind of trying to tell his wife what happened out there. She asks if he saw what It was (there’s no need to clarify what “It” refers to, though she’s hoping it was a mountain lion or something.) He says no, and looks very troubled, probably remembering the hobo and trying to figure out what that has to do with anything. Mom sees his face and asks, “What?” meaning, “what’s wrong? What is it?” But he doesn’t like her to ask concerned-questions, so he says, “I don’t know, nothing,” and adds that he thinks the truck took a chunk out of the animal. Maybe in a joke about the phones also being crushed in the wreck, trying to alleviate the disappointed-stressed reaction that gets from Mom.

She wonders how it could’ve followed them while it was hurt, and he says he thinks maybe it was sick, not in its right mind, rabid or something. He’s kind of a know-it-all, always likes to have an answer for everything, plus he’s shaken, so pretending to have answers helps. She immediately says “rabid?!” And wants to see his arm. He hesitates, because ouch, and also there’s a flash of the sight of Random Guy’s bloody body in his mind’s eye—he doesn’t want to look at any more blood, even his own, out of a vague wariness that he’ll experience into that same weird trance again.

But then Daughter comes out and squeals excitedly at the sight of her stuffed Dragon toy, safely returned. The conversation is put on hold.

All of this takes about twenty minutes of the runtime. I don’t know, measure timing was never my strong suit.

Over the next day, the couple is keeping Daughter entertained and avoiding prolonged conversations, except for when Dad tries to convince Mom that he should go and look for help; he’ll just follow the road they came down to a town. She puts this off in hopes someone will pass by, instead; yet Dad keeps bringing it up. But he can’t hide the fact that he’s getting sicker, and she really doesn’t want him to leave the house. She’s more for the idea that they all go together, if anything—but what about Daughter? If there’s a wild animal out there, how do they justify taking her with them?

He says she should just trust him to go get help and be back before nightfall so they can clean up this mess. But she argues that he should not just leave she and Daughter in a stranger’s abandoned house in the middle of the woods, the territory of a possibly-rabid man-eating predator, with no phone.

They fight. Which is sad, because Dad is having a hard time keeping up with the argument, let alone winning it, because he’s running a pretty high fever at this point.

He wasn’t going to tell her about the possibly-homeless disfigured person he saw, but he mentions it by accident as they go back-and-forth, because he’s not thinking very clearly, (being ill.)

The whole argument he’s like clutching his hurt arm and fumbling irritably with the bandage—the argument starts while he’s trying to unwrap it to check the wound before a dinner of cold cans of soup—and Mom tries once or twice to get him to sit down and let her do it, but they’re both distracted by the argument they’re having. Now she’s really mad and a little worried, because hobo, what hobo, what is he talking about? He didn’t tell her about a hobo earlier. What did he see out there?

Daughter is hearing all of this, even though she was told to stay in the boy’s room and play. She creeps to the door and tries to watch the bickering match, but the floor squeaks and her Dad somehow hears it, halting the argument. Mom goes to reassure/scold her, which interrupts the mounting argument, and gets her a can of soup.

When she comes back to the living room, she and Dad share a more tender moment. It’s hard to stay mad when he looks so exhausted and sick, and still doesn’t seem to have the motor skills to unwrap the tightly-wound bandage. He’s just flopped there, picking halfheartedly at it. Besides, if he can’t even do that, she’s basically won—he’s not going anywhere tonight.

During this tender scene she makes some sweet gesture like sitting next to him holding his hurt hand in hers, and quietly saying, “This thing took the fight right out of you, huh?” Then she starts undoing the wrapping, and adds, “you could’ve just let me help you.” She’s talking about the bandage, but also she’s talking about everything else. He just stares at her—because this is the kind of conversation they need to have, and her softening toward him feels good but also mounts that constant pressure, because he really does love her and he really is sorry for all this, but how can he convincingly communicate that without it seeming like an admission of defeat? Not just for the wreck. For the wreck of their lives.

But when she does unwrap the bandage, his cut looks…fine. The skin is red and angry, there’s definitely something going on there, but the actual rip in the flesh is miraculously healed over. It should’ve needed stitches for that. What the heck is going on?

So he gets to have a kind of delirious line with a smile, like, “see, maybe I don’t need help.”

But she doesn’t like the loopy way he says it and checks his forehead, and he’s burning up. She goes to the landline and we can have that scene in the trailer where she tries to reach someone with it: “We were attacked by some animal, I think it was sick, it infected my husband, we need help,” but of course she’s not getting through to anyone.

And he just looks at her in a sad stupor, from the couch, because of course he also didn’t tell her that his truck-wreck knocked down the landline, so that mystery is still a mystery to her.

But then there’s a sound of crying from upstairs. Mom tells Dad to stay put and goes up to find Daughter distraught. She’s in an upstairs bedroom, by an open window. The night air is ruffling the curtains. Mom doesn’t like that one bit and shuts the window, sitting her daughter on the bed, then on further thought goes to try and nudge a bookcase over in front of the window. Might as well have all entrances barricaded. But then she notices that all the books have been tumbled onto the floor (they haven’t been in this room yet.) And when she looks over at distraught Daughter, she sees that the bed isn’t just mussed up—the sheets are shredded.

Mom steps back and out of the room, towing Daughter with her, her face a mask of confused horror. What happened in this abandoned house? Did the wild animal get in here, at one point?

Daughter sees the look on Mom’s face and stops crying, because she’s getting more afraid of whatever could make mom look like that than she was upset about…whatever was making her cry. Mom asks what that was. Daughter tearfully claims that Dragon fell out the window. Mom huffs and sighs and hasn’t the current frame of mind to play along—she says, “you threw your Dragon out the window? Honey—you know we’re not going outside, why would you do that?”

“So he can fly and get help from the town for us and Daddy doesn’t have to. But he didn’t flap his wings! He just fell!”

Mom comforts Daughter and takes her back to her room. It takes a while of playing and promising to go get Dragon the next morning (nobody’s going outside during nighttime, she threw him into the backyard and there’s no back door so you’d have to go all the way around the house in the dark, are you crazy) before Daughter will calm down.

But when she comes back to check on Dad, he’s non-responsive. She’s distraught. Ten minutes ago he was smiling and a little of his bravado-humor was coming through, and now he’s twitching and making really guttural noises. She’s very upset by this, because this on top of everything else? Is he rabid? She doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t want to wake Daughter or let her see how sick Dad is, obviously. So she gets him upstairs, into bed, but he’s thrashing around in the torn-up sheets when she leaves him to try the phone again.

I like the idea of dragging this part out. Because if the scare-factor of the movie is “horrible breakdown in communication is causing hurt” then the right idea is to have the transformation into a werewolf be gradual. And that’s the scary thing. With little moments of hurt before the actual now-it’s-going-to-kill-us transformation.

What am I doing, I’ve spent way too much time on this

BASICALLY in the course of this second-night-in-the-house the dad would do lots of strange, upsetting things. He disappears from the bed upstairs and Mom finds him in weird places, like the basement. (Like in the trailer.)

He’s hallucinating about the moment he came home, drunk,to tell her he’s lost his job, and then hallucinating the day he came home and sprang the news on her that he’d decided they should move, and then hallucinating the resulting fight they had—but she doesn’t know that. She just sees him standing in the dark staring at nothing and shaking. She tries to talk to him and he just looks at her blankly; we get a glimpse into his perspective, just like in the trailer. He can’t understand what she’s saying.

She tries to lead him back to bed and he goes, the first time. As they stumble up the stairs she’s saying things like, “Come on, honey, two more, step up, do you need to rest?” but he’s hearing her say things like “Do you know what you’re doing?!” Like she did before accusing him of “uprooting our daughter’s world, all her friends are here,” or, “do you know what you’re doing?” back during their honeymoon when the car broke down and he tried frustratedly to analyze the problem. Or sometimes the things he hears her say as they inch their way across the landing don’t make sense at all, and that’s when he tries to talk back and ask her “what? What’s happening?” And all that’s actually coming out of his mouth is weird, gurgling snarling noises.

The second time she goes to check on him he’s curled in a ball in the bathroom on the floor, not moving at all, so tightly that at first she doesn’t even know what she’s looking at over there against the tub. When she realizes it’s him again she tries to wake him up and get him back to bed again, but maybe his eyes are actually wide open, he seems to be wide awake, he’s just not moving. That’s freaky. But she gets over it and decides to try and examine his arm while he’s so still—and he lashes out and spazzes, and she gets out of reach just in time but as he flails he busts a hole in the wall next to himself.

He doesn’t seem to even notice that he’s done this. Then he’s coming toward her, and his jaw is jutted out, and the whites of his eyes are completely gone, it’s just pitch-black dilated pupils, and his whole body is shaking so badly that his legs aren’t making the best use of the muscles that would stand him up so he’s sort of just dragging himself toward her on one uninjured arm, making all those deep guttural gargling sounds. She’s babbling to him, trying to snap him out of it, “stop it, you’re scaring me, what is it” But clearly nothing’s getting through.

Then Daughter, waking up after the loud sound, is calling for her mom from upstairs. Hearing that, Mom remembers there’s something happening outside this immediate frightening moment, then categorizes the hole in the wall and insensibility of her sick husband as “threat to Daughter” in a snap decision.

She finally scrambles backward out of the bathroom and locks him in. He doesn’t try to bust down the door, exactly, but she can hear him brushing confusedly up against it, see the shadow of him under the door flopping around. A finger or three scrabbles in the opening—his nails have spontaneously grown in the last few hours, grown to points.

Mom turns, breathing hard, to find Daughter there and tries to explain. Yes, that’s Daddy—he’s not feeling good, they need to give him some alone time. Daughter wants to bring him her leftover soup, but Mom insists that they leave Daddy alone and go into the living room for a little bit. This is so she can try the phones again—the phones, or the old hunting radio she saw in the cabinet.

While they’re there, Daughter is on the couch but she can’t stop looking at the shadow crossing the light of the bathroom, and listening to the ever-deepening, throaty sounds her dad is making. She is clearly remembering what he said about roars, and goes to look out the kitchen window at the backyard. Maybe she can spot Dragon. Instead, we get a nice jumpscare of yellow predator eyes watching her from the treeline. It’s the first werewolf. She’s frightened, and steps slowly back and back, not knowing exactly what she’s seeing. She goes to her mom for comfort. Her mom is intent on the radio. So we just see Daughter look over at the bathroom light again.

We pan slowly around the mom’s head as she gets a signal from the radio. She’s never worked one of these before, so she’s having to experiment. We can see the shape of the kitchen island moving out of view behind her. It does seem like there’s someone responding to her whenever she tries to talk into it. We can see the blurred corner of the stairway coming into view behind her. Whoever is on the other end, they are so muffled, she can’t tell what they’re saying, but the timing sounds like a response. We can see the landing coming into view behind her. She’s turning the knob and repeating things like, “Can you hear me? My family is trapped, there’s been an accident off of, uh, I think we were about twenty miles off the interstate, uh, can you hear me?” She listens for a response. Someone does finally answer, asking if she can confirm if she’s near a particular address. She gasps in relief and tries stammeringly to remember the one outside the building they’re in.

And behind her we stop on the shape of Daughter, outlined by a huddled, freakily-still silhouette framed in the bathroom light.

She let Dad out.

Mom whips around when Daughter says, “Daddy?” in such an uncertain voice. She drops the radio.

Dad’s hair has lengthened and his stubble has come in thicker but we’re not in full-wolf-mode yet. Which is worse, because his face has this indescribably blank, vacant look to it, like a shark’s. Except it’s frozen in some kind of weak grimace, like he was in pain before his facial muscles stuck that way. He’s staring straight through Daughter. Because his lips are pulled back and his jaw is still jutting, we can see the glint of pointed teeth. He’s scarily still, crouched in front of his daughter, except for how the lower muscles of his legs convulse every once in a while and his fingers are twitching. They’re claw-like. The arm that was clawed is ripped back open, this time in several places, and the nails of the opposite hand are stained red.

The bathroom behind him is in shambles. The old toilet has claw marks warping the porcelain. There’s blood on the fractured mirror, and it actually looks like some of the smears are purposeful—was he trying to write something in gore, and forgot what letters are supposed to look like?

Mom tells Daughter to come to her right now, and doesn’t take her eyes off of the uncanny transformation of her husband. There’s something about the way his face looks that is too scary to be considered “sick and in need of care.” Something that makes her want to drop him in a hole far, far away from their child.

Daughter is frozen. (Kids freak out when their dad shaves their face, imagine this.) Mom begins inching her way up the stairs step by step, but the moment one stair creaks, Dad’s head snaps toward her with such stomach-plummeting suddenness—and his right set of clawed fingers clench around the edge of the top step and immediately splinter it with unbelievable force—that Mom has to stop and settle for just reaching for Daughter. “Come to mommy right now.” She hisses, eyes wide.

Daughter tries to take a step back, forgets she’s on stairs, misses the edge of one, and gasps as she slips. Mom lurches up. At the same time, Dad opens his mouth and it’s impossibly wide and toothy and he makes a sound that is his normal human voice if it just had volume and no control over tone. He snatches at Daughter, but his arms and hands are shredding her puffy winter coat because he’s not accurately using the grabbing muscles in them. Daughter is stupefied in fear at first. Her mom is lightning-fast and uses a blue of pure mom speed and strength, and in one crazy twist she rips Daughter away from Dad. Daughter recovers enough to shriek into her mom’s shoulder. Everybody’s moving now.

Mom never stops the momentum that caught Daughter—she’s half-running, half-falling down the rest of the stairs herself as she bundles them into the kitchen, almost-forming the name of her husband into their daughter’s hair. Dad is a blur of reeling motion—his arms appear to have gotten longer, or maybe it’s just the way he’s holding them, endlessly reaching, fingers curled like each is one long claw-from-the-knuckle. His legs still won’t straighten up and hold him so he’s doing a mix of walking on his knees and all-fours hobbling, but it’s all frighteningly fast, and he’s staring, staring, staring.

He stays basically almost on top of them all the way until Mom is in the kitchen, she gets the landing inbetween them and she whips out an old knife from the sink and holds it out. “Get back!”

Daughter unburies her little head from Mom’s shoulder and twists to look at what’s going on. This movement steadies Mom, who tries to hold the kid at an angle where her own body is between her husband and their child. It also seems to momentarily jog her remembrance that this is Dad, at least enough for her to add his name in faux sternness when she repeats, “Get back.” This is like the part in the trailer where the same thing appears to be happening.

He doesn’t seem to register the knife. It’s her voice that has given Dad pause. Not because he recognizes it, but because he seems to have no idea what that sound is, judging from the slowly tipping head and black eyes. He keeps lurching toward them, but when his body makes contact with the island in the way, he goes wild and starts smashing everything he can reach.

Mom makes sure this isn’t her and Daughter. They attempt to escape, and there’s a a series of chases. First, she’s high-tails it to the truck, carrying Daughter. That goes fine until the truck won’t start (just like in the trailer) and then he smashes the windshield. She screams and tries to drive and flee, hoping he’ll fall off, but his flailing claw-hand disrupts her steering and they’ crash straight into the tool shed. Mom sees this about to happen and, in another burst of mom-superheroics, wrestles herself into the backseat and bundles both her and Daughter out the back door before the collision. Without stopping to check the destruction of shed or car, she flees.

They race into the woods, which was a terrible plan, but what else could they do? They make it to the road when they’re encountered by four hunters in a pickup truck.

One of them is holding a radio, two of them have rifles. They appear to offer temporary asylum—but then of course the werewolf gets there, and it turns into a true nightmare. It’s all screaming confusion. Mom is shielding Daughter’s face from all of it, and you guys get to join Daughter in obliviousness of the gory details because what am I doing, this is so long and it’s not even my movie and if it was I would artfully avoid graphic gore.

At one point Mom is scrambling to escape as the hunters are getting mauled in various stages of confusion and gunfire, and she falls down the embankment their truck tipped off of. There’s pained rolling, and she’s stunned, but Daughter is mostly unhurt, rolling a few feet away. There’s a moment where the werewolf approaches and Daughter tries to tell Dad it’s her, and tell him he doesn’t need to be scary, and Mom catches the tail end of this interaction before coming fully to alertness and racing to save her child. That probably would’ve resulted in death, because in all this fighting and gore it is apparent that the werewolf doesn’t appreciate anyone making sudden movements besides itself. But one of the hunters is still standing and shoots at it, so that gets its attention long enough for mom to grab Daughter and limp, one ankle twisted from the fall, back toward the street.

The last hunter gets werewolf-victimized, and then the chase is back on. Mom is barreling back toward the house, with one of the fallen hunters’ rifles, because it’s the last semi-safe place she’d been able to be, but she’s not going to make it. They’re in the backyard. She can hear that horrible throaty noise, this time full-werewolf scream. She ducks into the half of the tool shed that isn’t collapsed around the now-burning truck they tried to escape in in the first place.

She puts Daughter on the floor near the front door and hefts the Hunter’s rifle, peering through the wooden walls for sight of their pursuer. Daughter suddenly starts doing that high pitched scream-weeping-talking kids do, telling Mom not to hurt Daddy, it’s heartbreaking, but Mom shushes her and looks around for a hiding place—too late.

The werewolf is right outside. She can see it through the slats in the remaining walls of the toolshed, which face the woods. It’s looks like a werewolf—just a tad more beastly than the original, classic-looking Wolf Man. It’s lit in the glow of the fire, so the audience can see the weird, fever-seizure way that it moves, and it’s predator eyes. She looks back at Daughter and tells her that on the count of three she needs to run for the house. Daughter is just crying.

Mom counts to three, but before she can get to the last number, BAM the werewolf cannons through the wall and lands on the tool bench opposite mom. She whirls and fires; it’s hit and falls off the other side. But it stands back up and leers menacingly over the tool bench at Mom. It’s got one huge gouge along its shoulder, like a chunk was taken out of it. It’s not bleeding, it’s not a fresh wound—she remembers what her husband said about the animal “getting a piece taken out by the truck.” Daughter screams.

At the same time, one of those uncontrolled-tone animal noises comes from the other side of the tool shed, by the ruined wall. Daughter scoots to one side to get a better look. The camera pans a little to join her in peering around the bulk of the first ruined wall—it’s Dad. He’s pinned all along his left leg and arm, between the burning truck and the wall.

Mom looks back at the menacing werewolf she’s aiming her gun at. Dad never left the yard; the hunters were all taken out by this thing, which caused the moving van to wreck and did this to her husband in the first place. She screams at Daughter to run, and Daughter does get up and stumble a few feet toward the house, staring over one shoulder at her trapped dad—but the werewolf sees the movement. While its attention is momentarily diverted and before it can pursue, Mom fires again.

It’s hit, but it’s a werewolf, so that doesn’t matter; it leaps at her, knocking them both into the 1-and-a-half-walls still holding up the toolshed roof.

As she’s going down underneath its weight, she kicks both legs out and launches it a few feet away from her.

Then she turns and crawls half-under the tool bench for cover, aiming to get herself back between it and the vague direction of her daughter.

But then the toolshed collapses.

It falls in such a way that mom’s lower half is trapped under rubble when she comes to. The rifle is stuck lengthwise along her right side. She blurrily sees that Daughter is still lying stretched, stunned, in the lawn of the backyard. A few inches away is her stuffed Dragon, but you can tell she’s too shocked to move because she won’t even reach for it or crawl far enough to latch on for comfort. And beyond that, about a yard away, stalking toward her in a predatory arc, is the werewolf.

Mom strains to reach for the rifle and screams at Daughter to run, tries to get the creature’s attention. She can’t. She’s been so focused on the stuck-rifle to her left and the prone-daughter straight ahead and to the distance that, for a moment she doesn’t see that she can reach a perpendicular piece of wood under the one pinning her. She grabs at it, with no real plan in mind except to get something in her hands to change the impending fate of her daughter.

But when she does it moves, just a bit, and she realizes it can be used to leverage the beam off of herself. Instantly she’s trying to make this happen as the werewolf looms nearer and nearer to the easy prey of her daughter. But when she gets the beam to move a little, another sound makes her realized she’s not trapped alone.

Dad, still disfigured and snarling, is now pinned more under the same beam that she is than he was by the truck. (I don’t know exactly how; I think with some quick camera work we could show that as the shed collapsed completely he had enough time to get unstuck from his first position before getting trapped this new way.) As soon as she notices this she freezes in ear. If she lifts the beam, it is at an angle where he will be free first.

She stares at him and time slows down. He looks like a slavering monster. His mouth is yawning open hungrily, his face is a mass of darkening wrinkles. There’s fire from the truck right above him, but in its light there’s no human emotion—he doesn’t look afraid of getting burned alive, nor does he look in pain. His clawed fingers have turned black at the ends; he’s carving deep scars in everything he can reach, including the fender of the truck. But his black eyes, and in fact, whole face, are pointed at the same thing she is straining toward: their daughter.

If she lifts the beam, the monster that used to be her husband will be free before she will. She won’t be fast enough to stop anything he does. But if she doesn’t, nothing about the present scene will change, and she’ll have to watch her daughter mauled to death by the first werewolf.

She grabs the perpendicular piece of wood and hangs all her body weight on it. She heaves and screams and the beam lifts, just enough. Dad scrambles free, churning up the dirt floor of the toolshed. His dilated pupils reflect firelight and Mom. He stares down at her, then leers over her, clawed fingers reaching.

Then we cut abruptly to the action in the backyard, to a shot where Daughter is furthest from the camera with the burning toolshed as her backdrop. Dragon the stuffed animal lays in the grass in the midground, and in the foreground are the pacing limbs of the first werewolf. The clawed feet turn toward the prone, terrified child. There’s a scream, not from Daughter, but from Mom, somewhere back in the toolshed. Then silence. And then Dad comes up behind Daughter, bloody claw-hands reaching. Werewolves are moving toward her from both sides.

And then in a rush of motion Dad keeps going PAST Daughter; he pushes off the ground right alongside Dragon and launches out of frame in that single bound—when he comes back into frame, it’s to barrel into the charging first-werewolf. Bowling it straight off it’s feet, knocking it backward, away from Daughter.

Normally I don’t like werewolf-fights in a werewolf-movie. But he’s protecting the princess with his scariness. So I’m good with it. About a minute later, Mom crawls out of the wreckage of the toolshed, carrying the rifle. She shoots the first werewolf in the head, through the eye, right after Dad shoves it into the fire of the burning truck, and that finally does it in. It’s like, crawling out of the flames, on fire, and that’s when mom shoots it. It’s corpse transforms back into the distant-grandpa figure who probably owned the house they’ve been hiding in all along.

There’s like, a beat, where Mom is standing over Daughter with the rifle at the ready. Dad is bristling over the corpse. And then, horribly, Dad immediately starts eating the corpse. (You don’t see it, you see his back, a-la Demogorgon or National Geographic.) You just hear some snarling noises.

Mom hides the Daughter’s eyes by bending, picking up Dragon, and pressing the stuffed animal insistently into the kid’s face. After turning her around and telling her to stay there, Mom approaches Dad. She touches his shoulder while he devours. He doesn’t react. She reaches to do it again and THEN he whips around, bristling, nasty. She freezes, but you can tell (because we got a good actress) that she is forcing herself not to flinch. We flinched, though. We, the audience, we flinched.

She freezes, and he stands—tries to stand, and this time his shaky-bent legs actually straighten out. He’s almost his normal height. She looks at the blood dripping off his face and the freakshow-black eyes and says his name, it’s all very werewolf-cliche, and she tells him she loves him.

And maybe this time we go back into his perspective, like we haven’t since he first started transforming. The words he hears from her are very garbled, he still can’t understand her, and on the edges of the scene he’s seeing, a fever-blur of their old home, or his ex-office, or the road before they wrecked, keeps fading in and out.

The Mom takes his wounded arm, the one that first got the werewolf-scratch. With monster-force he jerks his arm back, as usual—but Mom does not let him slip out of her grip, so as a result, Dad yanks her forward right into him. She just has to go with it because that’s what happens when you choose not to lose tug of war with a werewolf, and embraces him. So, that should be curtains. But instead, of course, he just freezes and doesn’t seem to know what to do. Back to his perspective. He still can’t understand what she’s saying, but the emotion of the moment doesn’t change to confusion; she’s hugging him, you don’t need words with a hug.

From there, Mom slowly pulls away—which results in a snarl—but she doesn’t let go of that rigid arm. She leads him into the forest. They go to the site of the moving truck wreck (she takes him from a different direction, so they go around the hunter-massacre scene I guess)

She leads him into the moving van. All their stuff is laying in wreckage inside, toppled over on top of itself. But she sits down on the back of an overturned couch and shows him a shattered photo, plus the one on her cracked phone case, and just keeps telling him that she loves him.

When the cops show up, carrying Daughter safely from where they found her and closing in on them with guns, and Dad gets all bristly and animalistic-again, Mom doesn’t let go of his arm. She says she’s staying with him, says it to the cops, and says it to him. And he turns back to normal. It’s slow—enough. He’s been turning back to normal incrementally since she let him out of the toolshed. Standing up straighter, not eating her when she touched him, his eyes have been clearing up, etc.

Anyway, that’s how we end it. The police see the photo Mom is holding of their family, so they don’t immediately want to shoot the parents of the kid they rescued (they’re still the police and people are still dead on this scene) especially when one just went through mysterious seizures right in front of them. But when the camera goes dark, the family is still standing together.

I got a little carried away. so. so what, I had time

[murmiss]

Insane and brain-dead.

pairing-Simon 'Ghost' Riley/You. Very little John 'Soap' MacTavish/You

Chapter WARNING- Description of blood, cruelty, tin.swearing, partial description of decomposition, mention of suicide. My vision of the characters

Summary - 'There is no love'-that's what Simon thinks. BUT what if two traumatized and mentally wounded people meet in a hellish apocalypse and find solace in each other?Hundred what if what happens to them connects them?.

(the end will be good)

This is the first, introductory chapter.

Part one.

It is no secret that viruses and bacteria mutate at an amazing rate, either changing their genetic code and causing mutations, or changing so much that there is already a problem of a new strain. Today, viral mutation is a common phenomenon that does not scare people in the least. Many people do not even think that someday this microorganism can cause harm, ignoring all those stories of fatalities, great and terrible epidemics that have happened to mankind, naively believing that if it happened a thousand years ago, it certainly will not affect you.

How many people know about the Antonine Plague? Although, by the way, it was the most horrifying epidemic in history, which killed more than 5 million people, and according to records, killed 2 thousand Romans a day.And the bubonic plague? It's frightening when you think of the descriptions in books: fever, nausea, hallucinations, pus-filled buboes, death, and people in bird masks. So what? That's right, nothing. Remember when the coronavirus wasn't taken seriously? A lot of people thought it wouldn't reach the regions, states and cities, but it did.

Just like this time, no one took it seriously when dozens of reports were projected from a small town about a sudden outbreak of "rabies", forcing the sick to die in hellish agony within minutes, and then rising up like stereotypical zombies to bite everyone they came across, succumbing to the virus' natural call to multiply.

Really, who'd believe it? And for nothing. After the first newscasts, a wave of memes and jokes started among the schoolchildren, while the adults, lost in the cycle of work, family, and household chores, paid no attention as the small town of Corrins struggled to cope with the sudden and unknown threat. The town government was going crazy-people were refusing to work, refusing to go outside, and even the patrolmen were going on strike. But the infected were unstoppable. Even a hundred people were already tangible, and where there were a hundred, there were a thousand people, and where there were a thousand, there were two.The city was slowly dying until no one took it seriously. Why didn't anyone move out? The answer was simply that they couldn't. Corrins was quarantined, a total lockdown, no entry or exit. When did that ever work? There's not even a movie where a flimsy gate and guards stopped a horde of infected.

The infected huddled together, roaming the streets like mindless, attacking anyone they could catch.

The virus was spreading as fast as anyone could have imagined, and seemingly in ways never before recorded in history. In just a week, the city of Corrins had fallen into oblivion, along with three other towns in the vicinity, followed by the entire region.

Dim light shone through the thick navy-colored curtains, softly illuminating the room. Simon Riley, a former British mercenary who had just awakened from another night of nightmares, sat in the kitchen chair, leaning back casually, foot on foot and hand under his head, staring into the void. For the third time he was dreaming episodes from his past. Dreams about his goat father no longer frightened him, no longer made him nervous like the dreams about the team that Simon had grown accustomed to during his ten years on the job. Now, after the severe injuries, the difficult and sometimes deadly missions, the adrenaline that bubbled in his blood day and night, life in retirement seemed like hell. For the first few days he, like his guys, was in a depressed mood, not understanding why they were forced to retire so early, but none of the superiors explained anything, giving a completely stupid answer that was the same for everyone: "We changed priorities". That day was hard for everyone. but, nevertheless, the guys did not forget each other. Living in the same city, they often gathered in the bar "Ricky and Mickey", discussed personal matters, tried to rebuild their lives on a new way. And for Riley, worrying about what to cook, trying to build relationships, job hunting, and constantly changing activities were hated, so his thoughts often returned to the days when he and John and the guys worked together. When adrenaline was bubbling in his blood and his brain was working on emergency decisions and tactics. Being on the rope gave life an unrealistic drive, helping him forget the horrors of his childhood. Sometimes, however, he was afraid - those were the rare occasions when things didn't go according to plan and his companions could get hurt. Simon wasn't afraid for himself, he wasn't afraid of bleeding out on the battlefield, getting shot, or even losing a leg or an arm, but the image of a bleeding comrade made him shudder inwardly, still vivid in his mind's eye: He'd been shot in the head-unfortunate and nearly fatal, if it hadn't been for the plate in his skull-the miracle that had saved Johnny from certain death in this cold and filthy place.

That day Simon Riley almost died for the third time. The first time Riley had experienced such deep emotions was in his childhood, when his father, an alcoholic and deeply addicted to drugs, had mocked him. The image of his father with a viper in his hand and the devil-like image of his older brother would haunt Simon's dreams and visions for a long time. The second time it was the image of his mother. The fragile woman who was pulling the whole family on her own back, tolerating her abuser of a husband day after day, humbly going to hard work, trying to earn at least some pennies, couldn't stand it and put a bullet in her temple. She lay on the old and creaky couch for almost twenty-four hours before her husband paid attention. Simon remembers like yesterday her small, thin body lying stiff and stiff on the couch, with a humble face like a painting of The Death of the Virgin Mary by the artist Caravaggio. She was dressed in her pale pink robe, and her thin hand rested on her breast. Mrs. Riley tried her best to hold on for little Simon's sake, but she could not endure her eldest son's abuse and her husband's hatred, killing herself and finally achieving the peace and quiet she so desired. Little Simon sat with her all day, trying his best to wake the lying woman, covering her face with a damp cloth, gently stroking her icy hands. He was only six years old then, when he stood over the pit where the old wooden coffin containing the body of his beloved mother lay.

And then, when Johnny had been injured, Simon felt again like he did then at six years old, next to his mother. He, lost in emotion, grabbed Johnny's head, his hands trying to cover the bullet wound, roughly grasping like a child trying to help as best he could. The ghost doesn't remember Price dragging him away from Johnny's unconscious body, giving room for the paramedics to arrive.

John 'Soap' MacTavish was taken to the medical unit and underwent emergency surgery, Sitting in the dark and empty corridor, Ghost was out of breath as Gaz and Price tried to support him. "John's a tough guy, he'll get over it." And the this jerk turned out to be fucking resilient. And lucky too.

After that the band didn't last long-quite a couple months later they were dismissed, without reason or much explanation, taking them out of their positions. Of course no one expected it, but what was to be done?

Simon picked up his phone, checking messages, secretly hoping for another invitation to a bar, just to avoid the domestic routine, but instead of the pleasant words "let's go for a cognac," he came across a sweet and sweet message from Amanda, the girl Ghost had tried to meet at his leisure, when Soap was once again blowing his mind about the need for a relationship.Amanda was undeniably beautiful-blonde curls, blue eyes, and charmingly pouty lips, but the problem was that as soon as she opened her mouth, everyone wanted to shut her up. Amanda Hess was a meticulous Shopping Fanatic, and "miss fucking amazing ideas." In places, undoubtedly, the idea of going to fuck in the park at one o'clock in the morning excited Simon, but frankly, he lacked enthusiasm, and for the fifth time, hearing an unusual idea, his eyes involuntarily rolled with stupidity.

Simon and Amanda had been talking for about three months now, and he didn't know if he liked her or if he liked her ass, or if he even needed these dates.

"Honey, can you pick me up at eight pm?" -said the message, and attached to it was a nude photo of a girl sitting on the edge of a bed with her feet up and taking a picture of herself through a mirror, wearing only black lace lingerie. Beautiful, but unimpressive. When you see the same tits and hear the same things, you get used to it and the panties photo is no longer arousing. Inwardly Simon wished for soulfulness and some kind of domestic affection, maybe a cozy lady dressed in his huge warm sweater and striped socks, making hot chocolate.

"I'm busy," Simon answered rudely but habitually, but no sooner had he sent a message back than someone slammed the front door, forcing him to look up and away from the phone.

"Fuck," Soap said, panting and trying to catch his breath, leaning his hands on the walls. His eyes darted around the room, searching for the scowling lieutenant and finally seeing his comrade, Johnny rushed over to him, speaking quickly and nervously. "Hey L.T., did you see what the fuck is going on? We're fucked, we're fucked up a bloody fucking ass that can't be compared to Makarov's ugly face."

Simon grinned wryly as he listened to MacTavish and sat just as casually in the kitchen chair, watching Mr. Mohawk walk around his kitchen, looking for the TV remote and finally finding it, turning it on as he continued to mutter-"Fucking lunatics flooding the streets! I thought I'd never bloody get to you-the police are shutting down the city, ambulances everywhere!"

And as John spoke, Simon lowered his gaze to the phone again, wistfully noting that Amanda's message was from yesterday and apparently he hadn't noticed it. Soap snatched the phone out of Simon's hands, carelessly tucking it away on the table, speaking seriously, frowning his bushy eyebrows. "Buddy, can you hear me? I'm dead serious right now."

"You can't be serious about piles of zombies roaming the street," Riley replied, looking up at his friend again. Behind him, while no one was paying attention, the coffee was frothing, running off and dirtying the stove, leaving a bitter burnt odor that Simon sensed and immediately moved the coffee pot. "Bloody hell, John."

"Leave your fucking coffee, this isn't a joke, Lieutenant," John shrieked, finally turning his attention back to Simon.

On TV, a slender girl in a business suit with a serious face and a monotonous voice was giving an interview; in the background, behind her were several police cars, ambulances, and even a SWAT team flashed in the frame. Somewhere very far away there were shouts of people, special forces, passing information to each other. The girl's voice was steady and didn't even shake as she broadcast almost robot-like.

"Today, around six o'clock this morning, a group of unknown assailants attacked the locals. It's probably an outbreak of rabies. The patients have pale skin, cloudy eyes with red spots and gritted teeth, some cases of hemoptysis, poor coordination and slurred speech. If you find such symptoms in yourself or your relatives, call the number 'xxx-xx-xx-xxx'. We urge all citizens to stay in their homes until the next announcement. You are also reminded to lock your windows and doors and do not let anyone suspicious in."

"You heard her, it's just an outbreak of rage," Simon waved his hand nonchalantly, to which John, eyes wide, shouted again, trying to reason with his colleague.

"You don't fucking understand." -MacTavish clutched the remote tighter, rewinding the videotape of the interview to the very end.

"I don't understand what?" -Ghost raised his eyebrows skeevily.

"She's dead"-John said sharply, including the very end of the video, where a man in an ambulance corpsman's uniform comes at the journalist from behind. He sinks his teeth into her neck, biting off a large chunk almost immediately, his bloody hands grasping her shoulders as the girl screams frantically. Simon's eyes slowly open as his brain's mechanisms process the information. It's as if he believes it, but the other half of him screams "It's all a lie, a joke. April 1." Unconsciously he looks at his phone, checking the date and realizing to his horror that the first of April is long gone and it was June. The information and realization pressed on his brain, causing goosebumps to crawl across his skin. A slight fear bubbled in his stomach as he watched Soap's actions as if mesmerized. John frantically opened every drawer in the kitchen, looking for any canned goods and bars.

"Shit, LT, what are you eating? Don't you have any?!" exclaimed Soap, panic-rushing through the rooms while Simon came to his senses.

"Bottom drawer on the right"-as Riley answered mesmerized. John, opening the cabinet and seeing five cans of canned chicken and pork, exhaled, immediately pulling them out and placing them on the table.

"Don't delay, Ghost, get the damn things together. I was able to get a hold of Price, he and Gaz will be waiting for us on the outskirts of town at the cottage plots. Price is trying to contact Laswell and the department." Soap rummaged through the drawers, pulling out matches, knives, and anything else he thought might come in handy. Recovering and hearing shouts outside the door, Simon jumped up and immediately began grabbing his belongings and dumping them at speed into his hiking backpack. The screams were getting closer and it seemed like the entire apartment building was shaking with people running, panicking and screaming. Simon's apartment was right in the middle of the building, on the fifth floor, and it was damned inconvenient.

At last, Ghost jerked the curtains aside carelessly, peering out the window and watching in horror at the sheer chaos. He had never seen anything like this even in the army. From the neighboring apartment building, people were falling from the balconies, one was already infected, and the other, Simon's acquaintance, Edgar, a man with three loans and perpetually bawdy jokes, had thrown himself out of the window, not wanting to fight, nor to be infected and converted. Unwittingly, Simon remembered how they'd sat at the bar and the jerk with the black, curly beard would see any girl off with a meow, stretching out his catchphrase, "Your pussy's in danger next to me." Then, for Riley, it was a show, at the end of which Edgar was guaranteed to get slapped by some extravagant girl.Now he was dead. In the sky we could see helicopters crashing one after another, one of them crashing right into the house, partially destroying the building. The wreckage flies down where the crowds are, and at first glance it's hard to see what the crush is all about: screams and heartbreaking cries from everywhere, and the special forces are trying to get everyone out of the way, but they, too, the men in uniform and ammunition, suffer the same fate as the civilians - to be bitten. Suddenly Simon is yanked away from the window. Jonny, hearing something going on outside the apartment, realizes it's time to run. - "Damn! We're all going to die in here!"

The ghost followed Soap, and as the other opened the door, the growling grew louder. At the end of the corridor was a small flock of zombies - apparently residents of neighboring apartments that were infected.Without thinking long, the Comrades rushed to the stairs-an escape route. Suddenly, the door swings open in their faces and an older woman falls out into the hallway with a loud hiss. John reflexively shoves the old woman away from him, and Ghost reflexively hits her with the bat he'd brought just in case. "Oh bloody hell, I'm sorry Mrs. Ruzzet," Simon says nervously as he hurries forward, almost flying down the stairs, missing the steps. The zombie old lady lets out another clanking of teeth as she tries to crawl after them, but they've already broken away. Floor after floor flies by at speed, with only a door ahead. John pushes that one open, but it's like it turns out to be locked. "The fucking lock's jammed, Simon, help!" The sounds of zombies are coming closer, and Riley could swear she can hear them dragging their feet on the floor. Strike one. Nothing happens. Second strike. The smell of stinking zombies is getting closer and old Ruzzie is already sliding down the stairs with broken legs, dragging herself with her arms. Third strike. Simon stands behind Soap with bat in hand, the wooden handle cracking from his grip. Four. The door opens and John reflexively grabs Simon by the collar of his shirt, pulling him outside.

It's fucked.The smell of burning, blood and decomposition was everywhere, the dead trying to get to the last survivors who dared to go outside. A girl ran past Simon, clacking her high heels with a loud squeal while three well-fed zombies with bloody mouths with blood dripping from them, staining their clothes, almost ran after her. John rushed towards the cars, picking his way through them with a slight ducking, while Ghost followed behind him, looking back and keeping an eye out for single zombies. The path through the yard was relatively clear, if it weren't for a pack of zombies in suits crouching over a corpse and ripping apart their once office colleague. "That's what 'eating the boss's brains out' means," John grinned grimly, and Simon only chuckled.

"We can walk along the edge and hope the bastards are too focused on their coworker," Simon suggested, and John nodded, slouching, hunching over and almost pressing himself against the wall. The zombies, too focused on their food, wouldn't have noticed him if it hadn't been for John's sudden cry of, "Fuck!" With a snarl, they turned their heads toward the living humans, slowly rising, moving their hollow-headed bodies forward. Simon turned to John, who was swearing to himself as he tried to kill the crawling zombie: it was half a body, the upper half, and from the stomach on up, there was nothing, just part of the spine, but it was tough. Hurriedly, Simon grabbed his friend by the wrist and swiftly dragged him away from the alley.

They made their way to the outskirts of the city, but they couldn't stop there because all the neighborhoods were crawling with zombies.

"I'm damn glad your attraction to life on the outskirts cut us a hell of a lot of slack. It wasn't as shitty when I got to you as it is now," John tried to catch his breath. How many kilometers had they run? It wasn't clear, but it was a lot, though they were used to long runs, and their goal was to get to Price's country house as fast as possible, even if it was a hell of a long way.

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 25

Josie Day was a companion of the Eighth Doctor. She was a living painting, commissioned to capture the likeness of Lady Josephine, but she was so rich in animae particles that she became alive.

The Valeyard took on the identity of Jack the Ripper. While committing the famous murders, the Valeyard used the Dark Matrix to corrupt the other Doctors.

Ace was almost the sixth Ripper victim.

The Man with the Rosette (or, the Master) gave Scarlette rings to use for her and the Doctor’s wedding. He also sat in on the wedding on the side reserved for the Doctor’s family.

The Fifth Doctor is so scared of spiders that he will freeze in place and make Peri get rid of it.

The Saxon Master thought that the sun on the Mondasian Colony Ship would look the same as the sun in the Teletubbies.

The First and Second Doctors were both colorblind, but the Doctor did not realize this until they became the Third Doctor.

The Eighth Doctor spent a lot of time during the Coronavirus lockdown baking. He eventually managed to make a banana bread that wasn't disgusting. It was quite good actually.

After getting bored of baking, he started making a lot of face masks. He superimposed people's faces on them, so they could tell who each mask belonged to. Very few people accepted them when he offered them.

Once he got bored of that and ran out of other hobbies, he ran away to go live alone in his grounded TARDIS for many months.

The Master once set up a talent show called Make a Star. It was an anagram for aka Master.

The Ninth Doctor was petrified by the Incorporation on Occasus. He tried to regenerate to escape but couldn't. The Incorporation wanted his artron energy to bring back their kind and tortured him for 89 years to do so. Even after he regained the ability to move, he continued to go through the wringer in this story.

In that same story, he got so close to dying that another consciousness - himself as a failsafe on the brink of death - spoke to him.

The laws of probability bend around Time Lords, often tipping odds in their favor.

The politically correct term for a Silurian is an Earth Reptile.

The Sword of Never is a weapon used to execute Time Lord criminals. It renders all regeneration useless.

After one of the destructions of Gallifrey, the Eighth Doctor was dying. He was vomiting black bile, falling unconscious, generally looking like death warmed over, etc. This was only cured when Sabbath ripped his second heart - his connection to his Homeworld - from his body, but the Doctor immediately started screaming when he did this.

The Doctor is known as Karshtakavaar by the Draconians. It means the Oncoming Storm.

Harry has been known to bring the Fourth Doctor jelly babies from the shop because he knows he likes them.

Ace was once betrothed to a Traveller named Jan. The Seventh Doctor sacrificed him to defeat the Hoothi, and Ace's affection for the Doctor turned to so much hatred that she left the TARDIS.

Osgood has several tattoos of the Doctor’s faces.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

[reasonsforhope]

"During the global coronavirus pandemic, China built dozens of makeshift hospitals and state quarantine centers, some out of steel container boxes. They became closely associated with the anxiety of mass testing and the fear of sudden lockdowns.

Now, cities are turning the huge centers into affordable housing units for young workers in an attempt to revive the country's economy post-COVID...

Just over a year ago, these apartments were used very differently: for medical triage and quarantine facilities. Beijing alone built 23 of these makeshift facilities, designed to hold up to 23,000 people at a time.

"It was not very cold yet but they told me to pack my belongings," remembers Hudson Li, a Beijing resident who was quarantined in one of these facilities, called fangcang in Chinese, in October 2022...

Less than two months after Li was quarantined, Beijing lifted most of its COVID restrictions. Li says he still associates the fangcang with a feeling of helplessness and fear: "It has been over a year already, but I definitely have PTSD from the pandemic, from the fear of scarcity and having to stock up on a lot of medicine and food."

Attracting young tenants with low rents

Now the fangcang across the country are undergoing a minor transformation and turned into apartment units for young graduates like Li. The changes are an effort from local authorities, who have been tasked with restarting economic growth and supporting small businesses after nearly three years of ruinous lockdowns.

Populous cities like Beijing are also trying to bridge the housing affordability gap between high real estate prices and low salaries, on average, for young workers. In the northeast corner of the capital city, near its airport, one fangcang with more than 4,900 units has been rebranded the "Jinzhan Colorful Community" — a reference to the bright hues of paint — and now offers amenities like a canteen where residents can grab a cheap meal before or after work.

Another fangcang facility, in the northeastern city of Jinan, has been turned into 650 units for skilled workers inside an industrial park.

"Given that the current overall [COVID] epidemic situation in the country has entered a low level, revitalizing the fangcang for other housing purposes is worth learning and thinking about all over the country," Yan Yuejin, a housing analyst, told Chinese media.

The fangcang, once a symbol of containment, are now supposed to represent dynamism and growth.

"I have complex feelings about this. The facilities were built using public funds and not rented out transparently," Li says. "But I do have to say you will not get anything more affordable than these apartments. They are very price competitive."

A list of rental prices for a Beijing fangcang converted into apartments shows most rooms are Rmb1200 (USD $170) a month, low for Beijing."

-via NPR, December 9, 2023

[follow-up-news]

After the coronavirus pandemic triggered once-unthinkable lockdowns, upended economies and killed millions, leaders at the World Health Organization and worldwide vowed to do better in the future. Years later, countries are still struggling to come up with an agreed-upon plan for how the world might respond to the next global outbreak. A ninth and final round of talks involving governments, advocacy groups and others to finalize a “pandemic treaty” is scheduled to end Friday. The accord’s aim: guidelines for how the WHO’s 194 member countries might stop future pandemics and better share scarce resources. But experts warn there are virtually no consequences for countries that don’t comply. WHO’s countries asked the U.N. health agency to oversee talks for a pandemic agreement in 2021. Envoys have been working long hours in recent weeks to prepare a draft ahead of a self-imposed deadline later this month: ratification of the accord at WHO’s annual meeting. But deep divisions could derail it. U.S. Republican senators wrote a letter to the Biden administration last week critical of the draft for focusing on issues like “shredding intellectual property rights” and “supercharging the WHO.” They urged Biden not to sign off.

[scotianostra]

Happy Birthday the Scottish actor Peter Mullan born 2 November 1959 in Peterhead. I love Peter’s work and rate him as highly as Brian Cox and If ever there was a story of rags to riches it is Peter Mullan, born in Peterhead the family later moved to Mosspark in Glasgow. Mullans father was a drunken violent man but despite this Peter did well at school, at least till the age of 14 when the climate at home forced him out onto the streets and into a gang, spending less and less time at school. In his own words he was aggressively lobotomising himself but admitted he kept up his reading on the sly “You couldnae tell the gang you were reading Carl Jung.” he said. I’m not sure his heart was in the gang culture as he says he was “kicked out” after a couple of years, he returned to school and sailed through his Highers and started at Glasgow University at 17. His dad died of lung cancer on his first day. Mullan studied economic history and drama and despite suffering a nervous breakdown in his final year still managed to graduate. He went on to teach drama at Borstals, prisons and community centres while becoming involved in the left-wing theatre movement that flourished in Scotland in the 1980s. In 1987 he made his professional acting debut with the Wildcat theatre company in a political pantomime. Bit parts in Scottish films and TV series followed, The Steamie, Taggart, of course, and Rab C Nesbitt, as well as The Big Man and in Braveheart, he uttered the words, “We didn’t come here to fight for the” Danny Boyle, Shallow Grave and Trainspotting were another two films that Mullan served his apprenticeship in. The breakthrough came when Ken Loach chose him in the title role of “My Name is Joe” he gave a brilliant portrayal Jekyll-and-Hyde character , a recovering alcoholic whose humanity and warmth masked a frightening capacity for brutality. He won his first award at Cannes as Best Actor for the role. Around the same time Mullan was starting to get into directing, three surreal comic dramas set in the Glaswegian working-class world and then his first full length film, he not only directed but wrote the excellent Orphans an odyssey of four working-class siblings roving round Glasgow in the 24 hours after their mother dies. Channel Four, who funded the film chose not to distribute it as they didn’t think it would attract a large commercial audience. The film however was shown at Film festivals around Europe and won numerous awards, in interviews, Mullan has said that once Orphans started winning awards Channel Four apologised and asked if they could distribute it, an offer he refused. Since then Peter Mullan has not looked back, directing and penning The Magdalene Sisters and Neds as well as starring in amongst others, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, War Horse, Hector and Tommy’s Honour, on the small screen he was one of the main characters in ITV series The Fixer, The BBC Two drama Top of the Lake, and in the excellent drama series Gunpowder. More up to date Peter has appeared as Jacob Snell in the first two seasons of the Netflix series Ozark, all three series of the BBC Two sitcom Mum and a recurring role in the popular TV reboot of Westworld. He has also starred in the Netflix fantasy drama Cursed. We will next see Mullan alongside Colin Farrell and Tom Courtney in the BBC series The North Water. Peter was also one of the participants of the National Theatre of Scotland’s Scenes For Survival project, which featured talents from the country’s arts industry making lockdown-related short films as a response to the country’s theatres having to close during the coronavirus pandemic.

Mullan has been busy in the past few years, appearing in TV shows Liaison, Payback, After the Party and LOTR: Rings of Power, as well as the film, Baghead a Horror film which has average reviews on IMDb. Outlander fans look out for him in the spin off series Outlander: Blood of My Blood, a prequel to the popular Starz show, it follows the parents of both protagonists from the original series. Tony Curran is also cast as a younger Lord Lovatt. It is follows the parents of both protagonists from the original series it is expected to premiere in 2025 on Starz. He has a few oter projects on the go, the most hard hitting will no doubt be an ITV mini series called Lockerbie which will focus on the investigation into the crash on both sides of the Atlantic and the devastating effect it had on the small town and the families who lost loved ones.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Reference preserved in our archive (Daily updates!)

This study shows the importance of masking and distancing not just on covid, but all common respiratory infections. Even if we're wrong about covid, we're right about 7 other diseases. Mask up. Keep everyone more healthy.

Abstract Background. Microbiologic confirmation of respiratory tract infections gained importance during the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic. This study retrospectively evaluated seasonal distribution, clinical presentation, and complications of respiratory viral infections (RVIs) other than COVID-19 in children with cancer during and after the pandemic lockdown.

Methods. Two hundred and sixty-five inpatient and outpatient RVI episodes in 219 pediatric cancer patients confirmed by multiplex reverse transcriptase polymerase chain reaction (RT-PCR) panels from 13 centers were enrolled.

Results. Eighty-six (32.5%) of the total 265 episodes occurred in 16 months corresponding to the lockdowns in Türkiye, and the remaining 67.5% in 10 months thereafter. Human rhinovirus/enterovirus (hRE) (48.3%) was the most common agent detected during and after lockdown. Parainfluenza virus (PIV) (23.0%), influenza virus (9.8%), and respiratory syncytial virus (RSV) (9.1%) were the other common agents. The 28.7% of episodes were lower respiratory tract infections (LRTIs), and complications and mortality were higher than upper respiratory tract infections (URTIs) (25.0% vs 5.3%). Bacteremia was identified in 11.5% of culture-drawn episodes. Treatment delay in one-third and death within four weeks after RVI in 4.9% of episodes were observed.

Conclusion. During the pandemic, fewer episodes of RVIs occurred during the lockdown period. Respiratory viruses may cause complications, delays in treatment, and even death in children with cancer. Therefore, increased awareness of RVIs and rapid detection of respiratory viruses will benefit the prevention and, in some cases, abrupt supportive and some antiviral treatment of RVI in children with cancer.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

David Smith at The Guardian:

The party was buzzing, the confidence was surging and Kenneth Stewart was riding the Trump train. “He’s masculine,” explained Stewart, an African American man from Chicago. “He brings a lot of energy. He talks about things that we can understand. He talks about building. He talks about the auto industry. He talks about a lot of stuff that people in the Rust belt care about.” Stewart was a guest at Donald Trump’s election watch event in West Palm Beach, Florida, on Tuesday night and celebrated his victory over Democratic vice-president Kamala Harris. The result said much about gender, race and the new media landscape. It also represented a populist backlash against America’s perceived elites. In the aftermath of the coronavirus pandemic, millions felt a distrust of authorities that ordered them to wear masks, close schools and go into lockdown. They felt frustrated by post-pandemic inflation that pushed up the prices of groceries and petrol. They felt they would never be able to buy a house, that the American dream was slipping away. They were looking for someone to blame – and for a champion who could fix it.

They believed they’d found him in Trump and, despite his two impeachments and 34 criminal convictions, returned him to power. He made gains among nearly every demographic group. In part, he was riding a wave of anti-incumbency fervour that has swept through major democracies, battering the left and the right in the aftershocks of the pandemic.

That will provide little comfort to Democrats, who raised a billion dollars yet lost the national popular vote. They have come to be seen as the party of the highly educated who earn more than $100,000 a year and live in big cities such as New York and Washington. They are perceived as out of tune with people who work with their hands and shower after work instead of before. Stewart said on Tuesday night: “The other side, they’re only talking about feelings. They’re talking about Trump’s bad. But come to me with tangibles. A lot of Black men just want tangibles. We just want jobs. We want to see what our fathers had. We want to see what our grandfathers had, especially in the Rust belt.”

America is a nation of cavernous inequality with few safety nets. The last populist convulsion came 15 years ago after the Great Recession. On the left, it spawned Occupy Wall Street, a response to economic inequality, corporate greed and the influence of money in politics. On the right, it gave rise to the Tea Party, fuelled by rage against elites, distrust in government and racial hostility toward President Barack Obama. The Democratic and Republican parties each absorbed these movements into their political DNA. They manifested in the 2016 presidential election when the harmful effects of globalisation, trade and de-industrialisation took centre stage. Leftwing senator Bernie Sanders drew huge crowds in the Democratic primary but lost, while non-politician Trump drew huge crowds in the Republican primary and won.

The pandemic, and subsequent inflation, provided another trigger moment. Trump, a Manhattan billionaire, tapped into anti-establishment sentiment and bad economic vibes to style himself as an unlikely hero of the working class. He promised sweeping tariffs on foreign goods and the protection of manufacturing jobs inside the US. The pitch was infused with race-baiting, scapegoating and xenophobia: Trump claimed that undocumented immigrants were draining resources, causing crime and destroying communities. His demagoguery extended to an entirely fictitious claim that Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio, were eating pet cats and dogs. The former president painted Democrats as an elite out of touch with the affordability and cost-of-living crises facing those further down the economic ladder. Harris proposed a federal ban on price-gouging but it was too little too late. She did not help her cause during their debate by citing investment bank Goldman Sachs’ support for her financial plans as a reason to vote for her.

Claire McCaskill, a former Democratic senator for Missouri, told MSNBC that Trump “knew our country better than we did”. She recalled: “I grew up in a party where we were for the underdog. We were for the little guy. We are now the elite. We are no longer seen as the party for the little guy. “He was seen as the party for the little guy. He was seen as the ultimate disrupter and yes, the edges were very rough but in everyone’s own minds they sanded them down to the point of acceptability and, as it turns out, there’s a lot of craving in America for fear and anger – driven by lies.” America’s political class divide has been growing for years. In the 2016 election, Trump won 2,584 counties nationwide while Hillary Clinton carried only 472. But Clinton’s counties accounted for nearly two-thirds of America’s economic output, the Brookings Institution thinktank found.

The split finds expression in the way people dress, the TV shows they watch and the ways they interact (or don’t). In 2016, Trump won 76% of counties that contained a Cracker Barrel, a restaurant offering southern homestyle cooking on interstate highways, and just 22% of counties with Whole Foods, an organic national supermarket chain. The Cook Report noted the 54% gap compared with a 19% difference in the 1992 election. On the eve of the 2024 election, Trump held a campaign rally in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where some supporters wore miners’ helmets. Among the speakers was rightwing media personality Megyn Kelly, who told the crowd that Trump will look out for “our forgotten boys and our forgotten men, guys like you, guys like these guys who’ve got the calluses on their hands, who work for a living, the beards and the tats, maybe have a beer after work, and don’t want to be judged by people like Oprah and Beyoncé, who will never have to face the consequences of her disastrous economic policies. These guys will. He gets it. President Trump gets it. He will not look at our boys like they are second-class citizens.”

An exit poll on Tuesday showed Trump winning voters whose household incomes are between $30,000 and $100,000. His sense of grievance struck a chord with people who feel left behind and sneered at as “deplorables” or “garbage” by Democratic leaders, journalists and Hollywood celebrities. Joe Walsh, a former Republican representative and Tea Party activist who campaigned for Harris, said by phone: “The perception is that these people are elites. That’s what these folks have told me for the last five years. Many of them acknowledge Trump’s an asshole but they say: ‘Look, the Democrats are looking down on me.’ I heard that all the time.”

How did Don The Con win? He rode on backlash to elitism (even though Trump is an elitist himself).

[beardedmrbean]

The South Jersey business owner who defied Gov. Phil Murphy’s COVID lockdown orders by keeping his gym open, racking up dozens of court summonses, has been cleared of all charges, his attorney said Tuesday.

Ian Smith, co-owner of Atilis Gym in Bellmawr, opened his facility during the coronavirus pandemic in May 2020 in defiance of a state-ordered closing of nonessential businesses. Police arrested some gym members as they left after workouts at the facility.

Smith and co-owner Frank Trumbetti were fined more than $165,000 and faced more than 80 summonses charging them with violating a governor’s orders, operating without a mercantile license, creating a public nuisance and disturbing the peace.

At one point, the state Attorney General’s office recommended fines of up to $10,000 a day and imprisonment for the owners of Atilis if they did not shutter their business. Many of the charges also carried up to six months in jail, said Smith’s attorney, John McCann of Oakland in Bergen County.

“When you look at this, it didn’t make a lot of sense at the time. It kind of looked like they were throwing everything they could at these guys,” McCann said.

McCann said the summonses were written up by the Bellmawr Police Department, but the cases were later transferred to Winslow Township Municipal Court due to a conflict.

“Those charges hung over these guys’ heads for over four years,” McCann said.

On April 24, a judge in Winslow Township dismissed the charges but gave the prosecutors until this week to appeal.

“We didn’t get a lot of cooperation from Bellmawr with regard to discovery. The only thing we got with regard to discovery was the summonses,” McCann said Tuesday.

“You need the reports, you need a whole bunch of stuff. The judge in Winslow said Bellmawr didn’t provide their court with meaningful discovery to give to us,” McCann said. “She basically said that Bellmawr ignored the requests.”

When there was no appeal from officials in Bellmawr or the state, all charges were dropped with prejudice, meaning they cannot be filed again, according to McCann.

Bellmawr’s court clerk on Tuesday declined to comment on the case, and the court clerk in Winslow Township was not immediately available to comment.

A spokesperson for the state Attorney General’s Office did not immediately respond to a call and an email seeking comment Tuesday morning.

In an interview during the pandemic, Smith accused the state of being “very selective” about which businesses could stay open and those that could not.

“Telling people that liquor stores are essential but places they can come to work on their physical and mental health is not — it’s just not adding up. So, we decided to take matters into our own hands,” Smith said at the time.

In May 2020, the business filed a federal lawsuit against the state, accusing Murphy, along with then-Attorney General Gurbir Grewal and other New Jersey officials of violating the owners’ constitutional rights by forcing them out of business indefinitely with no timeline for when they can reopen.

McCann on Tuesday said Atilis’ owners did not make money off gym memberships during the pandemic. The facility, for that period of time, became the campaign headquarters for Republican U.S Senate candidate Rik Mehta, who challenged Democrat Cory Booker for his U.S. Senate seat.

People entering Atilis were exercising their right to volunteer for Mehta’s candidacy. If they worked out while they were there, they were not charged a membership fee, McCann said.

“There was no income coming in but for the GoFundMe money they were raising to fight the state,” McCann said. The GoFundMe raised more than $530,000 for the gym owners’ cause.

On Sunday, Smith took to social media to claim victory in the gym’s fight against the state.

“The support we received locally, nationally, and internationally for our stand is something I will be forever grateful for,” Smith said.