#Remember to Set Your Doomsday Clocks Forward

[whoacanada]

‘Wishful Thinking‘

Summary: Every NHL champion gets a single brush with ice magic. When Jack takes his first cup with the Falconers, he accidentally undoes the wish that brought him back from the brink of death in 2009, and Bitty becomes hell-bent on lifting the cup himself for a chance to set things right.

A/N: Finally posting some concepts I’ve played around with that aren’t 100% complete massive fics, but still pretty solid, just little things that might be enjoyed. Yet another cup-wish-gone-wrong-au with monkey-paw components. Also inspired by discord convos about canon!Jack meeting an older, veteran NHL!Bitty and having a lot of feelings. Also mentor/father-in-law!Bob trying to help Bitty navigate the NHL. There’s more to this floating around but this is the meat of it

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Bob can sense when it happens. A shift of something monumental that he’s only felt on a handful of occasions his entire life. A quick glance across the ice finds a number of the celebrating Falconers looking around curiously, unsure of the sensation; for so many, it’s their first brush with ice magic. A pleasant novelty. The vets, though, they look to each other.

Bob turns and doesn’t have to look far to find his son, one hand clasped around the cup, the other around Eric Bittle’s waist, smiling from ear to ear. Something about the moment is wrong, but Bob can’t quite determine why as he’s overcome with a wave of nausea. The stadium lights are too bright and he blinks hard, face scrunching, trying to force whatever wrongness he’s feeling out of himself.

Someone’s made a wish.

The moment passes. Bob’s vision clears. There, veiled in a shower of blue and gold confetti, is Eric; alone at center ice, face twisted in confusion as he looks around for the man who only moments earlier had been in his arms.

“You take the cup, you get one real wish,” the decades old, bourbon-lacquered voice of his first coach reminds him. “But only the one. Can be something small, like an empty cab in the rain, or it can be something big. World changing, even. The one thing, the most important thing — ”

“No,” Bob breathes. “Please, no.”

“— You never use your wish on another player.”

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They don’t know exactly what Jack wished for, but the next time Bitty’s blades touch the ice, it’s as if he’s stepped into the body of a new man. No more slurs. No more targeted chirps. He’s just one of the boys.

He plays. He wins. Then, the offers start to come.

NHL teams looking for fast wingers, team players, leadership material; not one of them mentions diversity, or Eric’s status as the first out NCAA hockey captain. No one cares. No one remembers Jack, and no one cares about Eric.

The best and worst case scenarios rolled into one. If this is the reality Jack unknowingly traded his existence for, Bitty has no choice but to walk through the door his partner opened.

Bitty swallows, trying to force the words out on one of his now nightly calls with the man who would have been his father-in-law in another world, if the shared connection between them hadn’t been interred in a Montréal cemetery almost a decade prior.

“I think . . . I think he wished for acceptance.”

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“No one remembers anymore.”

Eric scuffs his skate against this ice, building up a small pile of shavings before scattering them again, focusing on the soft white as if somehow he’ll be able to transport himself bodily to somewhere cool and quiet. Jackson Hole. Banff. Tremblant. Anywhere but here. Anywhen but now.

“Saw Tater last week at a press junket. Blank stares all around. Some days, most days, I wake up and I don’t know how I got here. I can go without thinking of him.”

Weeks. Eric doesn’t say aloud. Months. Those hideous mornings when he wakes up beside a warm body and forgets they aren’t him. They aren’t supposed to be him. Was there ever even a him.

Jack. Eric mouths silently, just to remind himself. His name is Jack.

The details always slip. The universe constantly trying to correct the fallacy of Eric Bittle remembering a man who died before they technically ever met. Faded photographs and corrupted memory cards. Selfies that used to have two people in frame. Vlog posts with cosmic ADR, swapping Jack’s name for someone else’s like a hastily rewritten script. Eventually, even Eric’s memories turn traitor. First times lost to reshoots and post-production magic. Blue eyes are brown. Black hair is blonde. Jack becomes Phillip. Eric’s first love recast. In desperation, he pulls a page from Memento, finds a tattoo parlor and has ‘Jack Laurent Zimmermann’ inked in dark, unmistakable letters on his inner thigh. Adds a cup, the Falconers’ crest, and the date they lost everything. It works well enough until the name fades; there are still days where a hook up will ask why Eric has a championship tattoo for a team he never played with.

Now, all he has is Bob.

“That’s why I’m here.” Bob reminds. “That’s why we talk.”

“But what happens if we don’t.”

Bob’s familiar assurances rumble through the phone. Constant. Refusing to acknowledge the harsh realities of the passing of time. The ever-present doomsday clock moving them both toward disaster — Bob aging, Eric aging out. He’s good, but he isn’t great, and the only offers coming his way are single-season contracts with teams that haven’t sniffed a championship in years. One day very soon, there will be no more chances for Eric to undo what’s been done. No more favors to ask of teammates that have long since forgotten a world where Jack Zimmermann was a college graduate and a rookie MVP. Not just an addict. Not just dead at nineteen.

Eric listens to Bob ramble, asks him to tell him a story, to tell him about the Jack that Eric never really got to know. The Jack he can barely remember. A man that Eric has dedicated his entire life to honoring, to bringing back — from where he cannot fathom — and Bob obliges in a soft tone Eric imagines is not dissimilar from how he must have spoken to his son as a child.

Eric ignores his teammates rushing around him — tossing chirps and gentle insults about his ‘Sugar Daddy’ — and focuses on the accented voice in his ear; grasping desperately at the memory of a man who doesn’t exist. Pretending. Hoping.

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Across the ice, Eric sees Kent Parson watching him. When they lock eyes, the aging star glides toward him, under a guise of one amicable captain greeting another. He’s pushing 37, and while the years of competitive play are starting to show, he’s just as viciously handsome as the day they first met. At least, Eric thinks he is. He can’t imagine a life where Kent Parson strolled onto a college campus and played beer pong at a frat party, but there’s a folder of old photos on Eric’s computer. Jack is in none of them, but there’s one of himself and Kent. Smiling.

Eric can’t recall why the image bothers him so much.

Parson used his wish years ago on something that he’s never bothered to share — and Eric’s far too much a gentleman to ask a man who was once a rival what he wasted his golden ticket on — but now, he’s slowing down, and this is supposed to be his farewell season. Going out with a bang, riding the high of his fifth cup win. He’s worked hard, and he deserves to shove the Penguins back down into obscurity for another season. Deserves it far more than Eric, with his selfish, single-mindedness that’s ruined god knows how many careers in the last decade between his own ruthlessness and Bob’s meddling.

Except. . . this is also likely Eric’s last season. His last chance to undo the great tragedy of his life, and Parson knows it.

“How you feeling, Peaches? You ready?”

Eric hates the nickname in the same way he hates when his father calls him ‘Champ’.

Eric fights his own shame because he wants to be honest, say, ‘No, I’m not ready, I’ll never be ready,’ but Eric can’t ask for what he wants, anymore. He wants the Aces to balk on a power play. He wants Parson to flub a pass and throw the game —  he even knows the man would probably do it, too — but Eric needs to come by a win honestly. They learned the hard way in 2022 when Eric hands were wrapped around the cup, wishing, praying, crying, pleading . . .

Clear eyes, full hearts, or some such bullshit.

Cheaters don’t get wishes.

“I can’t remember, anymore,” Eric admits as they square up across the face-off circle, the resigned terror of an inescapable end creeping upon him like the burn of an old injury ignored for far too long. “Kent. Please.” Parson leans down, rests his stick against the ice, and holds Eric’s gaze as if to say, I’m here. Trust me. Just play.

The puck drops.

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There’s someone watching him, young, handsome with dark hair and the kind of bright blue eyes that scream ‘notice me’ with all of the biological bluntness of neon plumage and a mating dance. The man weaves through the crowd, unnoticed by Eric’s teammates, and comes close enough that Eric can’t help but assume familiarity. He must be a fan, the way he’s flushed and excitable.

Eric’s drunk enough on the moment that he’s happy to indulge his baser instincts. He also literally can’t remember the last time he brought company home and if there’s ever been a night to get laid, it’s this one.

“Crisse, look at you, Bits.”

The man is caught between being awestruck and simply struck, reaching out to touch Eric’s arm but not quite making contact, like his depth perception is the tiniest bit off. He drops Eric’s old nickname so easily, so earnestly, that for a moment Eric thinks they might already know each other — but that’s impossible. Eric would remember someone so handsome, so very much his type.

“Only my friends call me ‘Bitty’.” Eric cautions, raising his half-empty champagne bottle in a mock toast and flashing his best ‘you’re coming home with me tonight’ smile. “But I’m more than happy to to get acquainted with you, Sugar.”

Eric isn’t usually this forward, this unrestrained. Tonight, it doesn’t matter, he’s celebrating: another championship, the end of a career, a life well lived. It’s to be expected. What isn’t expected is how the man’s relieved smile falters; as if Eric’s unbridled joy is somehow misplaced.

“Bitty? It’s me.”

“And ‘me’ is called . . . ?”

On very few occasions in Eric’s life has he been able to witness true devastation first-hand; and those instances were related to deaths, hockey losses, or blackout morning afters.

“Jack.” The man says softly, face slack with surprise. “It’s. . . Jack. Bitty, you know me.”

“If we’ve met before, I’m sorry,” Eric apologizes, hating to see the kid look so defeated. “I meet so many people — ”

Over Jack’s shoulder, Eric catches sight of Bob Zimmermann and waves, delighting in the way Bob’s face lights up when he catches sight of Eric, practically going supernova when he notices Jack as well, crossing the ice like a man possessed; Bob moves to pull them both into a hug but Eric’s new friend holds up a defensive hand and Bob stops mid-gesture.

It’s extremely apparent something is off, and between the reporters, the confetti, the champagne, and the fans, Eric is missing all of the context clues.

“Just won my last cup,” Eric singsongs, gesturing with the bottle between his mentor and the man Eric would very much like to fuck — who look very similar now that Eric can see them side by side. “Everyone’s super excited, right? Yeah? So, what’s going on. Did someone die?”

“No.” Bob says quickly, eyes flicking between Jack and Eric warily. “No. Not . . . that.”

“Severely injured?”

“. . . Non.”

“Okay, then, we should be celebrating!” Eric throws his arms wide and nearly clocks a passing teammate. “No more party pooping, Bobbert. Speaking, this is my new friend, Jack. Jack, Bob, Bob, Jack. Though, I’m getting the feeling you two might know each other. Or might be . . . related.” Eric gasps and smacks his free palm against his forehead. “Oh my god, the Tremblant retreat? Is that where I know you from? Listen, I was fucked up on pain meds that whole weekend, I am so sorry if we’ve already met.”

Despite Eric’s continued attempts at clarifying their shared mystery past, Jack keeps looking at Bob with that same wounded expression and it’s really killing Eric’s buzz.

“Bob.” Eric redirects. “Help me, here. Cutie’s nervous.”

“Eric, this is my, ah, well,” Bob’s smile is so forced, so tense, it looks more like a grimace. “Well, this is my son, Jack.”

There is only one ‘Jack’ Eric has ever known in relation to Bob Zimmermann, and he is not someone to be mentioned in polite conversation.

“Your son?” Eric echoes slowly. “Your son, Jack.”

Bob realizes what Eric’s tiptoeing around and casts a furtive glance toward the younger man, lifting two fingers to his cheek conspiratorially to imply ‘it’s a long story, not meant for public ears’. Eric knows how to play along.

“Wow, okay, did not expect that, but now that you’re saying it, I can one-hundred-percent tell. You have the same, well, everything.”

Eric takes Jack’s hand for an obligatory shake, not missing the way Jack’s features twist up into something caught between flattery and misery, before staring down his pseudo-mentor.

“My question is this, where have you’ve been hiding him — because how long have I know you, Bobby? Shame.”

“I’ve been . . . away.”

Jack’s tone is weighted with context Eric absolutely does not possess, but can definitely read into. Given the age difference and Alicia’s conspicuous lack of attendance this evening, Jack’s definitely a love child from some 90s Zimmergroupie. Or, original Jack didn’t actually OD and Bob spirited away his kid to keep away the prying eyes of the public; but that wouldn’t explain the age difference or the shared name.

Oh, Bobbert.

“Couldn’t wheel him out too soon,” Bob jokes, but Eric can tell the man’s heart isn’t in it, reinforcing Eric’s suspicion.

“Well, I’m happy you did,” Eric says graciously, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “He’s very handsome, when he isn’t doing this Eeyore impression.”

“Just like his father,” Bob says reflexively —  defensively —  as Jack goes pink. “Eric, will you excuse us for a moment? Back in five minutes, tops.”

Eric offers a gracious wave, gaze lingering on Jack’s retreating back — and backside, bless — watching Bob rest a firm hand on his son’s neck, gripping tightly to lean in and furiously whisper something. As Eric watches, Jack looks back over his shoulder; it’s not the fond glance of a potential paramour. Regret, maybe? Grief, definitely.

He must be as disappointed to be cock-blocked by his father as Eric is.

Across the ice, Kent Parson has rushed Jack, gathering him into a crushing embrace that the younger man returns easily —  burying his face against Parson’s pads; pulling back only when Parson grabs Jack’s shoulders to push him away, taking a long look at him, holding his face between his hands briefly before pulling Jack back into his arms.

They don’t just look like old friends, it’s a reunion of desperation, like the videos his mother sends of soldiers coming home from war, but before Eric can think better of it, a teammate fists a hand in the collar of Eric’s sweater and pulls — away from Bob’s forlorn love child and forgotten first meetings — and the night goes on.  

Bob doesn’t return. Neither does Jack.

Eric doesn’t even notice.

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[goodlucksnez]

short t/odoroki quirk flu

AGED UP T/ODOROKI

I wrote this IDK i if it good or if i should continue but enjoy

It was October again...a glorious October, all red and gold, with mellow mornings when the valleys were filled with delicate mists as if the spirit of autumn had poured them in for the sun to drain — amethyst, pearl, silver, rose, and smoke-blue. The dews were so heavy that the fields glistened like cloth of silver. Todoroki walked in the dewy morning to the agency his feet dragging on the slightly darken surface. The golden light pierced his orbs the headache he had been nursing kicked up in intensity and he winced in response. As the blue outline of the agency began to come into view, he swallowed his pride and gathered the energy to push the metal doors open into the warm interior.

Todoroki at the age of 24 created his agency to the dismay of his father. He had around 50 employees who all reported to him. When he entered the building the dull hum of the fluorescent lights pained him and he winced as he made his way into his office ignoring the pain and the increasing congestion in his face.

Once he sat down in his chair, his assistant came rushing in. “Good morning Sir.”

“Please Nightmare I told you to call me Shoto. But continue.”

“Of course, your morning was uneventful I assume. Well, here are your files and remember you have a meeting at 2 o’clock.”

“Thank you, Nightmare. If you could take all my calls this morning, I have a bit of a headache.”

She nodded and closes the door more quietly. As Shoto opened the desktop and logged into the files of the arrest in the past week. As he clicked on a rather interesting case called position dagger his nose started to itch and run. As he sniffled back the congestion the itch increased in intensity. He scratched his nose with his left hand. While he began to type, he found his eyes beginning to close and he turned his chair away from his desk as his breath begin to hitch.

“-ISSHoo-!! hhisSShww!- ISSHwww!”

As he covered his nose and mouth with his hand, he could not help but notice the small amount of snowflake flutter out before melting in the inside of his palm. He brushed off the strange incident as a rare occurrence, just a mishap with his Quirk. When he turned his chair back to his desk he could hear the fast footstep approaching signaling an interruption from an employee. Before the person in question could knock he pushed the button under his desk that automatically opened the door. What he says before him was no surprise. The lightly blue wavy hair was up in a messy bun and her eyes told the story something was up.

The girl spoke. “Sorry, Sir but you are needed on the front lines, The Kanto region as requested backup from all Pros in a 50 miles radius.” The girl spoke with such speed and clarity he was honestly impressed. “He gathered his thoughts quickly and cleared his throat before speaking “Thank you Melody I assume this is because of the recent gang-related violence.”

“Yes sir they seem to have taken multiple locations hostage and are asking for all pros to be bought before them.”

They both nodded in unions knowing this was some type of trap, but still, public safety was their number one concern. He gathered his gear and headed to the roof waiting for his transit to pick him up.

-----

Once he made his way to the first location he could see other familiar faces as other Pros glance his way. He simply nodded and took his place in line and observed the situation. The front of this building which looked like some kind of bank was barricaded with what looks like any furniture the gang out find. Police lights and helicopters danced over the reflective windows and he could see some moving shadows inside. He groaned the bright lights were not helping his headache and he pushed back the intensive thought that it may be getting worse. Within minutes the door opened and a figure approached the police line and shouted.

“Welcome to your doomsday hero's” The voice was amplified and bounded off the walls of the other building in complete clarity. Immediately all the Pros were on high alert. The gang was known for pulling stunts like this and failing their resolve to end hero society was strong.

The leader of the Pro's stepped forward. A man Todoroki had never had the pleasure of meeting but attended many meetings with. He had a teleportation-type quirk and was known as the multiplier.

“We have gathered as you said now let the hostages go and we can proceed.”

The figure laughed and pointed a weapon to the line of pros and spoke. “You call these Pros I bet I could take every one of them with my eyes closed, what happened to the good old days where only one could instill fear in the heart of us.”

Todoroki sighed he was tired of hearing this type of speech from gangs. But soon the man continued. “Why I see nothing but failed offspring of those who had all the power and look at them now all lined up ready to get executed.”

The words sparked something in Todoroki and he could feel his left side spark for a moment, he quickly stopped the flame and shook his head. But the man continued.

“Fine let the hostages go we have no use for them.” As the hostages were released comfort heroes quickly gathered them and took them aside to be evaluated and tend to any wounds they had received.

With a sudden crack, the pavement they stood on began to shake and crumble with lightning-fast reflexes all of the pros dispersed many activating their Quirk to stay grounded

Todoroki build a nice bridge a few feet off the ground and stood on it and watched as the earth opened up most likely a Quirk from one of the gang members still inside the building.

The chief commander spoke. “Is it a fight you want?”

The figure lowered its head as dark clouds began to gather over them the distant sound of thunder could be heard and as the figure raised it to head their eyes black and glazed over he simply stated “it’s time.” And the battle began.

Rain began to pour as the gang member-initiated his weather-type quirk and soon all of the pros were in a rainstorm. Todoroki wiped his hair from his eyes and set his eyes on the visual of the front of the building. Soon many members of the gang were beginning to exit the building activating their type of quirks and you could see a full battle was in store for him.

Todoroki hated heavy rain. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, and unless it was humid, made part of his quirk completely useless. Luckily, he still had some cover from the rain, but the strong wind and rain made him regret designing a sleeveless hero outfit.

Whatever. He didn’t have time to be cold. Todoroki knew he was in danger when a fist connected with his torso and he was knocked prone. As he gathered his vision again, he could see a short-haired man had him pinned to the ground and was getting covered in some type of grey substance he realized it was cement. He acted quickly and activated his fire to melt the thick substance and he soon kicked the gang member off himself and darted into the nearest alley to recover and rest. He knew he was bleeding when thick crimson began to block his vision.

Luckily for him, all of the pros combined with the strength and protection of others quickly defeated the gang, and what was a battlefield within minutes could be seen as a failed attempt to go back to their old ways where one hero was in charge.

---

He doesn’t remember how he got back to his agency he just remembered the bright fluorescent lights of their little medic and the white cotton sheets which were slowly turning red. He closed his eyes as he felt the healing power of one of his nurse’s power course through him and within seconds the pounding of his head lesson to a degree.

He sat up groggy and winced in pain as he could feel his muscles were sore and the congestion, he had been fighting back all-day shift in his face. The cheerful nurse he had hired spoke up “Well sir I’ve healed all of your injuries but overall, the battle was a success.”

He nodded and smiled a little he looked at the clock across the room and saw it was midafternoon he pushed himself off of the bed allowing his feet to connect with the floor and slowly walked back to his office.

Once he lowered himself in his chair, he took a minute to collect his thoughts however it was at that moment the itch decided to rear its head again and he found myself hunched over in a pre-sneeze limbo.

“Heh’Psh’ieww!!! Heh-ISHieww! hih’PSH! Hih’PSHH!!”

As the sneezes racked through his body, he felt the tight grip he normally has on his fire slip, and as he sneezed for a final time a rush of flame burst from the young Pro. Like his father, the flames licked the side of his face and his eye began to tear from the immense heat. As he looked at his arms, he could see the flame-resistant material struggling to stay intact, this flame was even hotter than his father's….as he sniffed and tied to gain control of his quirk, he heard a sound. He flicked his eyes over and saw the source of the noise.

A curly green-haired man was standing in his office with his mouth agape and was producing a sound that could only be described as a skipping record. Todoroki closed his eyes and put his head in his hands as he regained control of his quirk and said with a muffled voice.

“Hello, Midoriya.”

----

[whumpqin]

The Party, Part One

Haha......... this is a lot longer than I thought it would be. So this comes out in two parts, now! Yay!

CW: Modern slavery, creepy/intimate whumper, emotional whump, nightmares, pet whump, collars, conditioning, brainwashing, brief mention of a panic attack, touch starvation, accidental self harm, knife mention, dubcon mention / implied dubcon, and probably some other things I’ve forgotten! Message me if further tagging is needed.

Word Count: 3,348

“Where’s your fucking MANNERS, HUH?” the figure shouted at him, swinging a large black baton that he has a feeling could shatter him with one hit. He hadn’t been hurt just yet, but he had a feeling that he would be. He always was.

His other half whines, curling against him in fear. He gathers him up into his arms, a promise without words.

I’ll protect you. Don’t worry.

The shadows wafting off the figure, squared off with thorns that prickle underneath, radiate a strength that makes them both cower. He must pick his words carefully to appease them, to make sure that this didn’t escalate. If he said something wrong, he might never see his other half again.

That was unacceptable.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry. I’ll learn my manners. I’ll be good,” he promises, making a show of looking down on the ground, as if terrified to make eye contact.

It’s a total lie, and both him and the shadows know it. He can tell by the way their eyes narrow, but he isn’t afraid of being hurt by those callous eyes, even though he feels the cracks underneath his skin shift uncomfortably. His bones scream from the beating he had been taking since the beginning of time, begging him not to do this.

“Get your ass over here. I won’t have you disrespect me.” The baton raises, cutting the chain between the two of them in one fell swoop.

He slowly stood up, granting his other half a gentle pat on the shoulder for comfort. His feet dragged as he moved forward, but he forced himself to kneel in front of the shadow, ignoring the way the thorns almost seemed to graze across his skin. Infecting him with the same prickling sensation he knows won’t wash off despite his best efforts. He forced his eyes to look up, hardened and with a tense jaw.

They both know what is going to happen. The shadow will make a show of it, and everyone will laugh. 

It’s hard to tell if there’s an audience, but he can feel the multitude of eyes staring at him from his back. He dared a glance backwards, but only sees his other half pressed tightly into a corner and crying. There’s a gratefulness that he can’t see what’s to come. He makes a note to stay quiet, just for him.

“I’m going to have a lot of fun with you, I think,” the figure muttered, raising the large baton. He always said that. He always has his fun.

They swing directly for his face.

Emerson shot up in the bed with a heavy gasp. 

His body is slick with sweat, soaking the bed, sheets, and blankets as if water had been dumped into it.  He panted desperately, as he forced air into his lungs that he’s sure that he had been holding in his sleep, regardless of how much they protested. Emerson kept his eyes open, staring at nothing and everything. He’s completely alone, and he felt a pang in his chest when he noticed the empty space beside him.

He’s alone. Alone and not safe. Emerson forces his hands to his neck, curling in on himself while the pressed fingers underneath his collar. It’s a hopeful reminder that he is safe. He’s safe. There’s no danger.

The collar means you’re safe. The collar means you’re good.

Take off that fucking collar and come over here, ‘552.

Panic set in regardless.

He forced himself to get up and get into the shower, refusing to look at himself in the mirror as he took his soaked clothes off and dropped them on the floor. Emerson didn’t want to see the bruises that were just beginning to fade. It’s a reminder that it’s just going to start all over again today, even though he’s tried hard not to think about it. But his mind ticks down like a doomsday clock regardless, waiting for the deadline.

The party is tonight.

Emerson fell apart in the shower, where no one would be able to see or disturb him. Sobs wracked his whole body, making him shake from every one as the water rolled down from his shoulders. He clung to the sounds like breath, trying to use it to force the panic from under his skin so that he could just be, and he prays that no one waits outside of his door.

Eventually, when he felt numb and there were no more tears left to shed, he finished his shower.

He dried himself off and put on the clothes that he set aside the night before. He went downstairs, and there he realized that he was up surprisingly early. His nightmare must have woken him up in the middle of the night and he didn’t realize because there was no clock in his room.

You don’t need a clock to know when to perform your duties, do you?

No, Master Henrick.

Emerson sighed, considering his options. He could go back to his sweat-ridden bed and try for more sleep, hoping that he would wake up in time to get everything done today, or he could get his chores done early and have some time for reading, if Master Henrick allowed him. Wait until it was time to put on a show for the guests that would arrive. Pray that they didn’t kill him this time.

It was against his better judgement, but he decided on the latter. If he looked like he had proper work ethic, maybe Master Henrick would reward him. Emerson was never the favored one, but he could always hope.

Especially when he knew what the reward would be.

He meandered his way to the kitchen. It’s lonely here, empty and spotless brown counters with a tan marble island for eating, but it’s one of the only places that he can lose himself in his work for a little while and have some peace of mind. Emerson got to work prepping all of the food needed for the day, setting aside just enough to make breakfast in a few hours.

As he worked, he couldn’t help but to let his mind drift to the events of the evening. How the room needed to be decorated, what to make sure he needed to keep in mind while he organized everything. What Master Henrick’s tastes were. How to orientate everything so it was facing the platform that he was going to be on. Everyone, of course, was going to need a proper seat so that they could see-

Emerson cut himself across the index finger.

A sharp hiss slipped through his teeth as he raised the offending finger up above his heart. He found a cloth to serve as a makeshift bandage while he searched for the real bandages that he stashed somewhere in the cupboards. When he did find them he took care to clean the wound, dry it, and then wrap it delicately enough that he wouldn’t put too much pressure onto the wound.

He took a brief moment to breathe through the pain, which felt much worse than it should’ve been, and got back to work. 

At some point, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps. Emerson flicks his gaze backwards to not distract himself too much, catching sight of a wrinkled suit with no tie and tousled hair. Has it been that long already?

Master Henrick lazily surveyed his work, soft and warm brown eyes scouring the countertop before plucking some scraps of apple skin that Emerson had cut up earlier.

“Good morning, Master Henrick,” he greeted, curling his hand at the same time to try and hide the cut across his finger. 

His wrist was grabbed forcefully.

“What’s this?” Master Henrick muttered, fighting against Emerson to raise his hand for both of them to see. “I don’t remember doing this to you.”

“I-I’m sorry. I accidentally cut myself. Just a small accident, it shouldn’t bother any plans,” Emerson said quickly. “I’ll have the bandage off soon.”

“No no, keep it on until tonight. I don’t want it getting infected.” His voice was gentle as he spoke, pressing on the wound carefully as if to check how bad it was. Emerson whined through his nose, unable to choke back the sound, and Master Henrick let him go.

Emerson forced himself to go back to work in spite of the throb in his finger now, but listened closely in case anything else was said between them. And, if he knew his owner well, there would be more words.

“Orifel will be down soon. I hope you’ll have breakfast ready by then?” A hand brushed a lock of hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear. He tried not to shudder at the touch.

“Yes, Master Henrick.” Emerson kept his voice muted on purpose, an attempt to not let the sudden burst of excitement in his chest show too much.

“I’ll feed him this morning. Wouldn’t want any blood to get in his food, of course. But I’ll let the two of you talk for a bit,” he explained. It’s complete bullshit and they both know it, but Emerson nods like he hasn’t heard the real meaning of the words.

If you hadn’t hurt yourself when you’re not supposed to, you would have gotten to spend more time with him.

“Yes, Master Henrick. I’ll have everything ready very soon.” The words very nearly choke in his throat but he forced them out anyway.

“What is it, Emerson?” Fingers tilted his head to the side, up to the taller man who watched him with careful precision. “There’s nothing to be afraid of here, we’re not putting on a show in the kitchen. It’s just you and me. And Orifel I suppose, if he decides to show up.”

“Master Henrick, he, he can’t see to go down the stairs.” Emerson forces a smile to tug at the corner of his lips, because Master Henrick lets a low chuckle out through his nose. “But, the party tonight. The show. I’m assuming that I’m decorating it? Like normal? I know how exact you like things to be.”

“Is that what’s making you so nervous? Oh, Emerson, are you getting early stage fright?” It’s said in a slightly demeaning tone, like he’s a child. Of course I’d fucking get stage fright over that How could I not? “Don’t worry, you’re trained just how they like. There will be no problem on that end.”

Master Henrick selected another apple skin. “You will be decorating it like normal, though. Shouldn’t be too hard for you, I think you know where everything is. But I’ll be handling the display of tools. Those are mine.”

“Of course.” 

They were talking about this as if those tools and that party were just harmless things. As if they both didn’t know what they were going to be used for.

“You’ll do just fine, Emerson.” He repressed a shudder as Master Henrick ran his fingers through his hair, down his neck, and finally hooking into the collar that lied safely against his skin. He tugged, pulling him close to press a kiss to his forehead. “Look at me.” Emerson swallowed, eyes flicking over to Master Henrick’s. “Don’t touch Orifel. Let him touch you, but don’t you dare touch him. Understand?”

“...Yes, Master Henrick.” His gaze dropped to the counter, where he had a bowl of mixed greens and spices.

“Good.” The hands left. As they drew away Master Henrick snatched another apple skin piece, and he walked away without another word.

Leaving Emerson alone in the tense, suffocating silence, while his skin screamed from the empty feeling the hands had left.

He decidedly just focused on cooking. Focused on trying not to hurt his hands any more than he already had.

At some point he heard another set of footsteps approach the kitchen, softer and more light. If he wasn’t listening for them, Emerson wondered if he would have noticed.

“Em?” His body tensed and he was thankful that he couldn’t see it. He forced a smile into his voice.

“Good morning, Ori. How are you?” Polite. Terse. It came out just like he planned. Orifel worked that same smile on his face that he put on for Emerson. His hands reached out, finding the island in the middle of the kitchen and moving them back and forth until he found the chair.

“Green.” His favorite color, of course. Orifel slowly sat down, beginning to kick his legs back and forth when he settled. “How are you, Emmy?”

Emerson slid the final omelette he had been making onto a plate. “I’m… gray today. But I’m just tired. Wanted to get an early start today.” When Orifel frowned, he panicked. “I’ll be fine, though! Just uh… How, how was last night?”

Orifel’s head tilted, and then he sighed. “Pink and green, like normal. Not black, though. It’s never black,” he said, smiling in that mischievous manner that made his nose wrinkle. It fell just as quick as it had appeared, but Emerson couldn’t help but mimic that smile even if Orifel couldn’t see it. “If you’re tired you should get some rest, if you can. Early start or not, it won’t do anyone any good if you don’t feel good, Em.”

“I already said, I’ll be fine.” When Orifel’s sightless eyes stared blankly in his direction, wide and waiting, he quickly caved. “I’ll try to get a nap in or something later, if I can. But anyway, green and pink are good, at least.”

“Yeah, it was nice. I liked it a lot. I’ll spare you the details though, I know how it makes you feel. But it was… good. It was good.”

Emerson glanced down to see Orifel’s hands worrying at themselves. Fingernails pressed gently into the skin, making marks but not harming. He made a note to keep an eye on that, but he could tell from the way that Orifel stopped and started that he was very aware of it.

“Um… good.” He didn’t know what else to say that wouldn’t have come off as desperate or like a request. Instead he just stayed quiet.

He hated when it was quiet.

“Hey, Em… can I… touch your face?” Emerson winced at the sound of him practically throwing the cooking pan into the sink, turning to see Orifel cringed. “Yellow. Um, I mean, if you’re done plating the food up.”

“I’m done now.” At least, everything was plated up enough that he was more than done. He painstakingly set the rest of the pans down in the sink before making his way over to Orifel.

His chest hurt as he forced  his hands behind his back and settled into a bastardized version of Position 7, even though he needed to. He needed to or else he won’t be able to keep his hands off of Orifel and be good for Master Henrick like he’s supposed to be. Emerson swallowed, leaning forward into the arms outstretched for him.

Orifel’s fingers fall onto familiar areas, beginning with tracing over cheekbones like he usually does. He felt the curvature of Emerson’s face, letting one hand trace over his forehead while the other found his jawline and trailed it with a few fingers. It was as if he was reminding himself what Emerson’s face felt like, a comforting gesture that Orifel’s been doing for as long as he had known him.

Just hold onto my face, okay? That’s familiar. Hang onto that familiar thing and you’ll be okay.

Emerson swallowed, feeling the urge to hold Orifel as close as he can tug painfully at his chest. He can’t, because he’s not allowed. Because he had made a mistake before Master Henrick even saw him.

If you hadn’t cut yourself, maybe you could touch him. Maybe you could spend more time with him.

If only you had learned your fucking manners-

“The, the food. It’s, going to get cold. I need to, um, get it, Ori,” he stated, voice flat and tense and unable to hold itself together as well as he had hoped. 

Orifel picked up on the obvious excuse. “Okay. You know I don’t mind cold food. Is something the matter?”

“Just… I’m… Hmm,” Emerson hummed unwillingly as hands slipped up into his hair, carding through it with a loving touch in an effort to comfort him. His eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, sparks rippling down his spine as he leaned into the hands without meaning to.

“Just what? Do you want me to stop? Is… is this good? Am I doing this right?” Orifel’s voice began to waver as his hands paused, holding still exactly where they were.

“It’s fine, Ori, it’s fine. Just…” Emerson’s eyes opened so he could look at him properly, but darted to the side as he saw movement-

And looked directly into Master Henrick’s eyes.

His voice died in his throat as those eyes, once warm and now cold as ice, watched him like a hawk and its prey from a distance. Too far to hear anything important, but still there to witness. Watching.

Waiting for Emerson to make a mistake.

“White and brown,” he whispered quickly, voice cracking under the tense strain he was putting it under. The two colors hopefully would give Orifel enough meaning; tell him what was so wrong.

I’m anxious and he’s here. I can’t say what I want to because he’s watching us. I’m scared.

Orifel’s eyes darted back and forth, faded gray pupils thinking carefully while they rested on nothing in particular. Then his hands moved to delicately hold the back of Emerson’s head, before bringing him close to press a sloppy kiss to his forehead.

“Mwah,” he said, voice low and soft. His hands carded through his hair one last time before drawing away, and Emerson tried not to whine at the emptiness of touch that was left behind, instead huffing out a sigh. “Everything will be okay, Em. Don’t worry.” Orifel offered another one of his bright smiles. “You’ll do just fine.”

Don’t worry. You’re trained just how they like.

“I’ll try. I’ll- I’ll be good.” He forced himself to shift away, instead moving to the counter again to clean up the kitchen. “Master Henrick will be feeding you today. I have some things I need to prepare for the party, so I’ll be in the ballroom if you need me.”

“Okay. Oh, Emerson?”

“Yeah?

“I love you.” Words mean to be comforting, said softly like a reminder. Orifel wanted him to know, that much was obvious, to help keep him going through the day, elevated enough so that he could be heard from a greater distance. 

It didn’t stop the ache that Emerson felt in his chest, the one that he constantly felt, now. His eyes glanced over to Master Henrick, watching, his intense gaze hardening into the one that would have him kneeling and begging at his feet if he came closer.

Master Henrick shook his head.

Upon command, Emerson huffed out a forced laugh that came out almost awkward. “You love everyone, Ori. Just try to remember what I told you, okay? I’ve got to get to work.”

Emerson finished cleaning quickly, the distance between them growing more and more unbearable by the second. After that he walked out of the kitchen with a brief pace, caught by Master Henrick at the shoulder.

He leaned in close, too close. “Good boy. Go get to work, now.”

With a nod, Emerson skirted around Master Henrick and walked, practically ran, as he tried to push away the tears that threatened to brim the bottom of his eyelids.

Emerson tried to focus on the task at hand. Reminded himself what he was supposed to be doing and why. That he needed to be good. He pushed away the fear that curled into his chest at the idea of the show, how he’ll need to be good and scream just like his Master wanted him to. Like he was always supposed to.

He swallowed.

Tonight is the party.

[viralhottopics]

While You Were Offline: Hey YAll, Remember to Set Your Doomsday Clocks Forward

Hey, Starlee Kine. We still miss Mystery Show, but while we mourn its disappearance, why don’t you tell everyone what this past week has felt like?

Jesus you miss one day's worth of news and you're Luke returning home to his aunt and uncle on Tatooine.

— Starlee Kine (@StarleeKine) January 25, 2017

Yep, pretty much sums it up. This has been the week where reality has been rejected by those in charge, and perhaps with good reason, considering how badly reality is working out for… almost everyone? But if you’ve had the good luck to have been busy doing other things for the past seven days, here’s a quick roundup of what you might have missed over the last week of World Wide Web-spinning.

It’s the End of the World as We Know It and This Is Fine

What Happened: So, turns out that the Doomsday Clock was updated this week, for those of us having trouble dealing with the anxiety of the modern world. Where It Blew Up: Twitter, media reports What Really Happened: But perhaps all this naysaying and doom-mongering is just paranoia, and things aren’t as bad as they seem. Let us just check in with what the big brains at the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientistsyou know, the people behind the Doomsday Clock—are saying to get some perspective.

Doomsday Clock moving from 3 minutes to midnight to 2 and a half minutes to midnight

— Vann R. Newkirk II (@fivefifths) January 26, 2017

Well, crap. So, what brought us that little bit closer to apocalypse? According to the official announcement, none other than the new President of the United States. Well, him and a general worldwide push towards nationalism. “Disturbing comments about the use and proliferation of nuclear weapons made by Donald Trump, as well as the expressed disbelief in the overwhelming scientific consensus on climate change by both Trump and several of his cabinet appointees, affected the Board’s decision, as did the emergence of strident nationalism worldwide,” the release explains.

The change was, of course, picked up by multiple news outlets as everyone tried to just pretend everything was fine.

Certainly, there were plenty of doubters on Twitter:

Have to say, introducing half-minutes to the Doomsday Clock feels like a cop-out.

— Phil Sandifer (@PhilSandifer) January 26, 2017

Real talk: The Doomsday Clock is stupid.

— Blake Hounshell (@blakehounshell) January 27, 2017

At least some people had a certain type of gallows humor

Can't wait to hear Donald Trump's response to the #doomsdayclock moving 2.5 mins to midnight. Probably has a clock that is bigger & better

— Adam C. (@adamecurry) January 26, 2017

The #DoomsdayClock has moved closer to Midnight. It's just like Cinderella. Except when the clock strikes 12 she turns into a mushroom.

— TwistedDoodles (@twisteddoodles) January 26, 2017

TBH, I'm surprised the Doomsday Clock isn't CLOSER to midnight…

— Hope Larson (@hopelarson) January 27, 2017

So, what's everyone doing for their last 2 min 30 sec on earth? #doomsdayclock

— Ezra Harper (@EmDrive16) January 27, 2017

That’s the spirit! Chins up, everyone The Takeaway: Well, this feels appropriate:

It's not at all concerning when #DOOMSDAYCLOCK is trending. Not at all. Everything is fine. http://pic.twitter.com/F0SzyH47TB

— Tom + Lorenzo (@tomandlorenzo) January 26, 2017

#SpicerFacts

What Happened: How do you know you’ve made it as White House Press Secretary? When your very first press appearance in the role turns you into an Internet meme. Where It Blew Up: Twitter, media reports What Really Happened: New White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer had a rough start to his new job last weekend, when his first appearance at the podium proved to be an argumentative one, as he basically said many wrong things about the size of the crowds for President Trump’s inauguration and everyone called him on it. The resultant online kerfuffle immediately became a meme as #SpicerFacts started trending and everyone offered up their own versions of reality:

President Trump finished the NY Times mini-crossword puzzle each day in roughly 15 seconds. #SpicerFacts

— colbyhall (@colbyhall) January 21, 2017

Trump swam the English Channel while holding Chuck Norris above the waves with one arm. #SpicerFacts

— Charlie Reed (@CharlieReed2004) January 21, 2017

"Everyone knows Beyonc was the weak link in Destiny's Child. Period." #SpicerFacts http://pic.twitter.com/jIWuYHb7bS

— Josh Crews (@JoshCrewsReally) January 22, 2017

"Admiral Ackbar is wrong. There is no trap. Period." #SpicerFacts http://pic.twitter.com/oXKrwKBckk

— Bonnie Burton (@bonniegrrl) January 22, 2017

Unsurprisingly, the media couldn’t resist reporting on this meme, especially considering Spicer’s ire was directed towards the media. Soon, the very idea of #SpicerFacts had gained enough currency that it got a Twitter account of its very own, the surest sign that something had gone mainstream. Well, one of the signs, at least.

Announcers at an NBA game were making #SpicerFacts jokes this weekend. This moment broke through huge. And can't be put back in bottle.

— Maggie Haberman (@maggieNYT) January 23, 2017

So how could the White House fight back against this widespread acceptance of the idea that its Press Secretary had, in his very first official appearance, revealed himself to be unfamiliar with the truth? KellyAnne Conway had an idea: double down.

WATCH: Kellyanne Conway defends WH press secretary's "alternative facts." #MTP http://pic.twitter.com/q4PVzhpA1g

— Meet the Press (@MeetThePress) January 22, 2017

Yes, that’s actually a government official arguing that Spicer wasn’t actually being untruthful, he was just delivering “alternative facts.” Anyone want to make a guess at what became the next hashtag to trend on Twitter?

Never too late to teach your children about #AlternativeFacts http://pic.twitter.com/RlVCEgkusU

— Kenneth Fernandez (@KenFernandezPHD) January 23, 2017

Icebergs are disappearing because polar bears are eating them #alternativefacts

— David Belz (@dmdb44) January 23, 2017

All of the Jedi inexplicably decided to jump into friendly Stormtrooper fire or onto Darth Vader's lightsaber. #Alternativefacts

— Death Star PR (@DeathStarPR) January 23, 2017

Unicorns went extinct when David Bowie died. #AlternativeFacts

— HaberTweets (@ToddHaberkorn) January 23, 2017

As sales of George Orwell’s 1984 spiked almost 10,000 percent (it is, after all, a book filled with alternative facts, or as it’s called in the book, doublespeak), the war on truth continued with Sean Spicer’s second press conference, in which he told reporters, “I think sometimes we can disagree with the facts.” If he seemed unclear about what words mean, thankfully the dictionary was there to throw some shade in his direction:

*whispers into the void* In contemporary use, fact is understood to refer to something with actual existence. https://t.co/gCKRZZm23c

— Merriam-Webster (@MerriamWebster) January 24, 2017

The Takeaway: Sometimes, the truth is out there all along, just mixed up somewhat.

Best. Anagram. Ever.

ALTERNATIVE FACTS = AN EVIL STATECRAFT#AlternativeFacts (h/t @anagramtimes) http://pic.twitter.com/SbDAG7jvWA

— Jonathan Kaye (@JonathanMKaye) January 24, 2017

Did You Mean…?

What Happened: Sometimes, search functions give you what you need, if not necessarily what you wanted. Where It Blew Up: Twitter, media reports What Really Happened: Call it the surprise search gift of the week.

It's crazy who pops up when you search the word 'asshole.' on Twitter.

— BEEZ (@bugattibeez) January 26, 2017

Note: This isn’t still the case, so don’t go rushing to Twitter to try it for yourself right now. But, up until Wednesday evening, this was entirely true:

Search "asshole." Search "fascist." Search "racist." Search "worst."

What do you get? http://pic.twitter.com/v0rfqKCiHB

— Alex Goldschmidt (@alexandergold) January 26, 2017

The @realDonaldTrump account would also come up as a suggestion if you searched for “tiny hands,” although that was discovered after the fact. Twitter, meanwhile, was rather excited about this new discovery.

If you type "asshole" into the Twitter search bar Donald Trump's profile comes up lmfao who did this?

— Anthony (@OMGItsBirdman) January 23, 2017

y'all type "asshole" into the search bar and donald trump comes up sjjakhsjsha

— diego (@shadesof666) January 26, 2017

So anyway I typed "asshole" in the search bar and Donald Trump shows up

— Tay (@CakeFaceTay_) January 26, 2017

WHEN YOU SEARCH "asshole" it shows Trump http://pic.twitter.com/jnSJdejpe4

— Dank Memes (@DankMemes) January 26, 2017

Turns out, Twitter wasn’t the only place people got excited about this search suggestion; unsurprisingly, it got a lot of traction in the media. And why not? If Twitter was trolling Trump it would have seemed an awful lot like making a dig at the guy who has made the service very newsworthy in recent months.

But what if it wasn’t trolling?

Not a troll. Algorithm to find relevant accounts based on the "discussions" they are part of, i.e. lots of tweets to Trump using "asshole". https://t.co/0wlUntdKeV

— Izzy Galvez (@iglvzx) January 26, 2017

The Takeaway: Whether it was a legitimate algorithm or strange glitch, Trump was removed from those results pretty quickly after it became public. It was over almost as soon as it began, but let this serve as a lesson to randomly search for things on Twitter and see what comes up. (That is the lesson here, right?)

There Is a Tweet Tied to an Argument For Torture, What Do You Do?

What Happened: Turns out, Twitter is not so impressed with your ridiculous hypothetical moral dilemmas. Where It Blew Up: Twitter, media reports What Really Happened: Funny story: our new ppresident believes torture “absolutely works.” As people try to come to terms with what that actually means (FWIW, new Defense Secretary James Mattis disagrees), British comedian Lee Hurst took to Twitter with what we can only assume he thought was a compelling thought experiment.

Your baby is tied to a timebomb. You have the terrorist. He tells you you have 1 hour. Do you #torture him to find your baby or let it die?

— Lee Hurst (@2010LeeHurst) January 26, 2017

Let’s just say that Twitter, en masse, didn’t agree.

Simple. First you row the baby across the river. Then row back and get the time bomb and the goose, leaving the terrorist with the beans.

— Davey Jones (@DHBJones) January 26, 2017

Were you attached to a time bomb when you were a baby? I'd like to talk to you for a thing – DMs are open #journorequest

— josh pappenheim (@papsby) January 26, 2017

Good luck tying my baby to a time bomb. It takes me half an hour just to put a vest on him.

— Ben Davis (@bendavis_86) January 26, 2017

Okay, okay, but what if it were baby Hitler tied to a bomb you sent back in time?

— Kip Manley (@kiplet) January 26, 2017

For sale. Baby timebomb. Never used.

— Kieran Shiach (@KingImpulse) January 26, 2017

The Takeaway: There’s no way to avoid it: this pun just might have made the whole thing worthwhile:

"Lieutenant, they've strapped your baby to a bomb!"

"Don't worry. That won't…"

(puts on sunglasses)

"…RATTLE her."

YEAAAAHHHHHHH

— Li'l Stuffed Bull (@bully_thelsb) January 26, 2017

Read more: http://ift.tt/2jrVzM7

from While You Were Offline: Hey YAll, Remember to Set Your Doomsday Clocks Forward

[cciportfolio]

Live case study 1: Remarkable Tolworth

We began teaching block 2 by being briefed on the project at hand by Clare. The project was commissioned by the ‘121 Collective’ and ‘Community Brain’ who are two groups that are working towards making the area of Tolworth a lot more engaging for visitors and local residents.

Our role (my team and myself) within the project is to research into the history of Tolworth with the help of BA: Geography (who are also working on the project). We will need to gather as much information as we can in order to make informed design decisions later on in the project. We were given a lot of useful links and articles to read which should also help with creating an outcome that will actually be of some use to the people who will see it every day.

The aims of the project include:

 1.research

2.re-writing the brief

3. defining team roles and responsibilities.

4.ideation and prototyping then evaluating of ideas

5.creating an action plan and outcome

6.pitch presentation

7.project report

what the client wants:

We were put into groups and I was placed with Niall, Tinashe and Aaron E and we were asked to work on the heritage route, which means that we would be designing something for Tolworth that would teach its residents about the heritage. 

 VISITING TOLWORTH

13.01.20 

The walk around Tolworth was very valuable for gathering a better insight into all the hidden treasures of the area. This, in turn, helped us to ask the right questions when we spoke to a few locals in the shops in addition to shopkeepers. The comments that we received had confirmed our own thoughts and feelings about Tolworth. We found that although there were interesting little pockets within the area, they all felt really disconnected and underdeveloped.  

Workshop with Annie Yonkers- reflection:

I guess this workshop was helpful in the sense that it was a nice introduction to the people that we will be working with on the project and studying how they use their own knowledge of map-making which was very different to us as creatives.  In my opinion, I felt that the workshop was a little too far fetched in terms of content,  from what we were going to be doing as part of the creative on the project. 

Heritage: the definition:

What a person or place inherits from someone or something.

Consider who your target audience is and why:

what kind of information will you need and why?:

We will need to gather research on what other areas do to showcase the heritage of their area and whether or not the demographics of that said area affect this? 

What questions do we have for the presentations?:

Why did you approach the project in this way?

what ideas do you have for the project moving forward?

Reflections on what the geography students and what our role is within the team:

I felt the first presentation was really strong as it was rich in content and the research was well executed. They approached the project in a way that I felt really detailed the scope of the brief for us which made our job much easier to carry out and understand.

 This particular slide was important for us as it helped us identify exactly who our audience is which makes the design process more focused. At this point, we began understanding that the heritage of Tolworth lies within the minds of the older generation but perhaps stops there. 

We all agreed that it would be important to try to create something that would engage the younger people of Tolworth in order to keep the heritage alive. 

The first group highlighted these five heritage sites as the richest in terms of the content that they were able to find. We would later develop this further. 

In terms of my initial research and impressions of Tolworth, I found that Tolworth’s leisure centers were very hidden and unknown ( which was backed up by the first civic and community presentation). Therefore, I felt it important to raise this to my group in our next meeting. The Ace of spades roundhouse that existed in the 50′s was the last entertainment spot that brought residents together that they can remember. I did a bit of research into what it exists as today and I found that it is now used a shop and flats which reside about it which leaves Tolworth without the entertainment hub that it once was.

On another note, whilst searching online, I typed in ‘the ace of spades -Tolworth’ and an escape room came up which got me thinking about whether we could use the concept of an escape room based on a narrative of the heritage of Tolworth to engage and teach a younger audience about all the interesting history that lives right on their doorstep??

Designing a place purpose manifesto for Tolworth :

After reading through the presentation that was given to us by Simon Yewdall, I came to find that in order to create a manifesto in this way, we must consider these things:

Places need to be distinguished like brands. And how do we brand a place?

We attach a set of values to it which will give it a purpose or meaning...

This will work towards building or changing the way a person views that place or thing. For this, we must consider why they exist and how they will help people. So in terms of thinking why a place like Tolworth exists, we think about the history and why this is important to the people...

Is it for :

cultural reasons or in order to cherish memories from the past?

We also must consider if, within this, we highlight and conserve heritage or embrace the future? Or perhaps, is there a way of doing a little bit of both??

Are we able to create a social impact within this? By encouraging people to come together to build memories and make history??? 

At this point, I began to think about how we could record and document the social change there was to be one as an effect of the execution of our proposal. 

Perhaps there is an opportunity here to suggest that the proposal could include a social media campaign which ties everything together... 

Research:

(At this point in the project, we all decided to create a group project in basecamp to allow us to all share our research findings. We all did this separately )

So I gathered that in order to begin to understand the heritage of Tolworth, we will also need to begin to understand the people of Tolworth and what they want and need from their community area. Therefore, we wanted to look into the opportunities for designing for the civic route as well as the information that was accessible for the heritage route. 

Economic growth and development strategy

the strategy developed in 2017 has the aim of increasing residency with the renovation of Tolworth tower. However, this plan is riding on the idea of reducing 02 emissions from the A3 which is an ongoing problem for Tolworth.

the strategy also outlines that the Tolworth tower provides a historical legacy. 

the area is very disconnected from its thriving neighbors: the red lion and Chessington which disallows the flow of culture from each area into the next. Perhaps this is something to think about for the proposal??

Tolworth’s function within the greater town on Kingston Upon Thames

Tolworth only really caters to serving the local population when it comes to food culture which may be seen as a problem as this will not attract new younger visitors and residents. 

Possible plans for Tolworth

well defined public landscapes

change surface of the road crossings

accumulation of low plants to create a greener area

Tolworth roundabout to have cyclist routes, seating, and trees

redesign of the station car park 

electric charging points for cars

provide a bus station which may encourage people to use Tolwoth as the main station instead of Surbiton.

The history of Tolworth:

Talwoth is listed in the Doomsday book.

David Bowie launched Ziggy Stardust in a local Tolworth pub.

home to Manor house that was owned by the queen.

the railway came in early development and the residential areas came later as a side effect of the new easy access to the suburbs. 

remains of the medieval moated manor at Tolworth court

Tolworth court farm fields.

the richness of good apples. (Tolworth apple store)

Shedx is working to enrich Tolworths lands once again by promoting growing your own food in newly developed farms.

The most popular heritage sites in Tolworth:

Ace of spades pub

the river hogsmill

the history of the apple stall

the toby jugg pub

Mary Quant cosmetics  Gala factory 

We decided to narrow down our ideas and focus on four or five of our most developed ones. At this point, we all had our preferences on what we wanted to focus on so we decided to come up with some visuals and further research for our desired concept choice. As me and Aaron both liked the idea of developing an escape room we both came to the conclusion that we should collect some first-hand research by booking one to see if this could be a potential route for our project. We found that there were loads in central London but there is also one in Surbiton that was cheaper and would maybe be a little more enlightening in terms of seeing what kind of puzzles they use in the escape room for a Surbiton audience.

Aaron and I signed up and attended the escape room to understand how it really works. Due to the fact that we were not allowed to film or take any pictures we recorded the information below from memory: 

- it has to follow a narrative of some sort

- the game relies on time.

- there are riddles, puzzles, and codes available to work with which will help you find clues.

- the escape room provided you with a pen and paper to write down information that would help you throughout. 

- lock boxes opened other lockboxes with lead to the release of keys.

In conclusion, we found the whole experience really engaging and really quite clever. The only thing that we found a little outdated was the fact that we had to write down things so that we would not forget it which lead to us losing more time on the clock. From this, we decided that we could make our escape room have a digital element to it to avoid this. 

Defining team roles and responsibilities

At this point in the project, I was still pretty much set on the idea of designing an escape room and a supporting app as my main concept to focus on. Aaron also, therefore we decided to begin refining this concept whilst Niall worked on an event for Tolworth which is the concept that he wanted to develop. 

I began by generating more research on the heritage sites in order to understand how much content would be available for each site to use for the design of the escape room. Here, I realized that i was able to find a lot more personal accounts for the Toby Jug pub than for any other site. So, I focused on this particular site to see if the concept would even be feasible. 

I visited www.closedpubs.co.uk/surrey/tolworth_tobyjug.html, where I found some interesting information from people who used to visit the pub from when it was first built to the time that it was closed down. 

In order to build on the knowledge in a visual sense, I spoke to my parents and my nan about their own memories of visiting pubs in the 70′s onwards as i couldn't find any images from inside the Toby jug. 

In some of the comments from the website shown above, there were some indications as to what was made available for customers such as pinball and cigarette machines and a pool hall which I could use when building a map for the escape room. 

In order to create this, I asked Tinashe if he could help to find any images of the tub in public records. He supplied me with some images that he found in the Kingston library and also online. 

In terms of pushing my ideas further, i intend to create a digital mockup of in the interior and exterior of the escape room to give the client an idea of what kind of content is needed to make the idea work. Tinashe also came up with the idea that the escape room content could change annually to keep the engagement meaning that every year the escape room would become and teach about a different heritage site. 

The exterior design of the escape room

We started to explore the idea of using a shipping container to house the escape room which would be situated on the green area near the farm of futures or inside an abandoned shop on the broadway. Depending on how far the budget can stretch for the project, we would use more than one shipping container attached together to amplify the space and content that is available for the room.

I created a mood board for the inspiration for the exterior design of the escape room. I also created the designs below with the idea that we could use a similar design to that of the heritage arches as they are originally set to be placed at each heritage site so perhaps customers of the escape room can benefit from the information being displayed in a similar way around the shipping container to read just before they go in.

This was the final design for the exterior of the escape room. After i shared my scamps on basecamp for the rest of the group to see, we decided that the most effective way to do it would bt to use the exterior design as a tool for learning the history of tolworth. This would also be beneficial as the people who are entering the escape room can learn the information for each site before they go in. We also decided to keep the colours the same for continuity. 

In the feedback that we recieved from the panel, it was mentioned that we could have used a similar style to that which was used in the logo which i felt would have pushed it further and given it a less corporate feel to it. 

The campaign - Ties to Tolworth

We all decided that we should use social media to tie in all the work that we had done for the project which would help to make it feel more cohesive.  We brainstormed possible campaign names and began scamping ideas for logos.

At this point, our individual roles within the project came quite naturally to us as a group as we all had different strengths and this became clear after we had a meeting to show each other what concepts and visuals that we had been working on. 

Tinashe highlighted that he felt most comfortable gathering further research and imagery for the project. (This would come in handy for the heritage arches that Niall was designing and for visuals for the pub interior ) 

Niall said that he felt comfortable developing visuals for the heritage arches and using the information that Tinashe was gathering to work on typography for that also. 

Aaron decided that he would like to help develop the escape room visual and app concept with me as we were the ones who developed the brief and brand guidelines for the project. 

In addition to this Aaron was handling the colours and font choice for all aspects of the project which would help make our concepts feel like part of the same project. 

In terms of the presentation and report, we all have gathered a lot of information about our proposal both separately and as a team, therefore, we decided that these elements would be a group effort and that we would follow the same brand guidelines when designing the layout of the presentation. 

Aaron created the logo above which we would use throughout the project.

Ties to Tolworth -app 

Aaron and I worked on the concept for the app together deciding what the functionality should include and I did a lot of research about what the difference is between UX design and Ui design is. I found that I had already been following a lot of UX designers on Instagram so I was already inspired to push my work from last year with all the little tips and tricks that I had learned. 

We knew that the app had to have two options at the beginning that would guide the user to either the escape room content or the content about Tolworth's heritage which needed to be clear in its design. I created some mood boards to identify what I liked and what I felt worked well in terms of functionality. I and Aaron discussed that although the app was designed to display heritage information and should have a formal tone, it should also be fun and engaging for everyone using it . As we felt that this was something that was risky in terms of creating an app that would not feel too outdated in its design. 

The report

In terms of my contribution to the report, i created the layout for the pages in indesign and the infograph which illustrates the demographic information of Tolworth as part of the research section. 

At this point, my work ethic is a little slow as im feeling super anxious about corona virus and what life will be like in the next couple of weeks/months...

im currently not allowed to leave the house to visit any family so im alone everyday as my flatmate has moved out which has put quite alot of stress on my mental health. I also cannot move back in with my mum as shes worried i will pass the virus onto her as her immune system is very weak at the moment. Im really sorry about the lack of effort for this particular part of the submission, i just hope that ive done enough to get me onto the next year :)

[cadpadawan]

Day #2 in the Music Challenge

Music Challenge – Day #2: A Song With A Number in the Title

So, I'm a day late, but I think it shouldn't compromise the balance of the cosmic Space-Time Continuum. Not too drastically, anyway...

The challenge of day #2 was to pick a song with a number in the title. No brainer. As a typical 90's post-pubertant, who spent most of the dark 80's listening to heavy metal, I could instantly come up with two options, starting the count from the number 1: Metallica and U2.

Why didn't I start from zero?

A good question.

I did listen to Zero by the Smashing Pumpkins quite a lot in the summer of 1997, so it could be a rather good choice for a song that reminds me of summertime (challenge for day #3), and Absolute Zero by Stone Sour, in turn, could serve as a perfect candidate for a song that reminds me of someone I'd rather forget (challenge for day #4)...

Whatever.

Metallica released their war-themed song One as a single from their 4th studio album ...and Justice for All that came out in 1988. My schoolmate Jarno showed me the music video one day after school, maybe a year later, as the video debuted on MTV on January 1989. The grainy footage on a worn-out VHS-tape rather emphasized the feeling of experiencing some sort of freeze-frame-shot in the passage of time. I had no previous knowledge of the band at the time, and just like that, out of the blue, the WW1-themed thrash metal epic kicked me in the nuts. If I remember right, the music video had just premiered on Finnish national TV also, in some awkward boomer music program of the era. In the aftermath, in the course of the next couple of weeks, Metallica was the talk of the town at school. There was a handful of aspiring young guitar heroes in my class, and in no time at all, the guitar tabs for this Metallica classic were doing the rounds, from hand to hand, photocopied with a second-grade resolution at the work office of some guitar geek's mom. Everybody just had to learn the song, or, as in the case of some lazy fuckers, learn at least the iconic, arpeggiated chord sequence in the song's intro. I was one of those more determined sad individuals, who spent night after night repeating the riffs and licks of the song. Excluding Kirk Hammett's guitar solo, which I honestly didn't think very highly of, in terms of musical taste, anyway, I finally learned to play through the song! Of course, it sounded a bit awkward, played through my cheap 15W amplifier, that had an integrated distortion circuit, which sounded like crushing dry bread, to be honest. The matters of sound quality nicely provide me with an awkward transition to the continued issue regarding the nothing short of legendary lack of low end on this classic Metallica studio album. Some internet scholars assume, that the band deliberately turned down the bass tracks, played by the freshly recruited Jason Newsted, as if to suggest that the band had not entirely resolved the psychological trauma caused by the tragic death of their original bass player, Cliff Burton. A theory like that sounds a bit far-fetched. I have played in a ridiculous number of bands, during the past 25 years. I haven't yet met anyone, who would choose to make the collaborative effort of the band sound bad, for whatever reasons. So, I can fully accept James Hetfield's later account of the situation: the band was totally burned-out. Nevertheless, the herds of teenage metalheads, such as me and most of my friends, didn't really mind. When the album came out, it was the best-fucking-shit-ever for some time. One was Metallica's first top-40 hit on the Billboard charts, and in Finland it reached #1 spot in the charts. Yeah, I'm lucky to live in the land of 1000 lakes, and 1.000.000 tr00 metalheads: we eat cast iron I-beams for breakfast, and shit barbed wire after...

One was also the title of the third single from the brilliant U2 album Achtung Baby, that was released in 1991. The album was recorded at the legendary Hansa studios in Berlin, under the supervision of two producer legends: Daniel Lanois and Brian Eno. Whatever we may think of Bono's later trademark way of playing Jesus to the lepers in his head, there is no denying that this particular U2 album is a fucking rock classic. On this album the band kinda re-invented itself.

When I got my driving-licence, on the brink of the summer 1992, Achtung Baby was one of those killer albums I had copied from vinyl to C-cassette, in order to expose my blissfully unaware passengers to some quality music, during those restless weekend odysseys, when I was the appointed driver. With the price of gasoline being as it is now, I'm not sure if the youth today follows this fine tradition of driving around, aimlessly, at the heart of every Saturday night anymore. Probably not. Maybe they're too busy exchanging make-up tips and eating tidepods in YouTube. Times, they are a-changing... However, there probably is no feeling that can come even close to that special feeling, when you're driving home at 6 AM, after a hot long summer night of driving around, watching your dearest friends being entangled in the grandiose act of mental butterfly strokes, in the whirlpool of alcohol and bad decisions, and U2's cordial 90's hit One comes on in the car stereos.

So, I could settle with either one...

Metallica: One

U2: One

Or, I could keep the streak going, and see how far I can get...

For a song with the number two in the title, I could also come up with two options, that both have some personal meaning to me: Iron Maiden and Jonny L. The latter released some quality drum & bass in the 90's, and everybody should be well-acquainted with the heavy metal classics this first-mentioned British outfit released throughout the 80's. After all, the band pioneered the New Wave of British Heavy Metal movement.

I musta been something like 10 years old, when Iron Maiden released one of their best albums, IMHO, titled Powerslave. Heavy metal was something that my mom strongly disapproved of, and at the time, my family did not yet have a record player. We did have a cheap ghettoblaster, that I frequently used to record contemporary rock songs on C-cassettes, especially after the brand new rock-oriented Finnish radio station, Radio City, started on the first of May, in 1985... So, I had a habit of going to the local library, that had pretty street-credible music department. My usual after-school activity was to pick a freshly released, kick-ass heavy metal album from the vinyl bins, and then hand it to the library clerks. Then, they would hand me the earphones and show me to the first vacant listening booth. That's how I discovered shitloads of contemporary metal albums, such as:

Van Halen: 1984

Iron Maiden: Powerslave

Kiss: Animalize

and:

Duran Duran: Seven and the Ragged Tiger

I guess, you're wondering now, what kind of contemporary metal did that last band perform, or did I, by any chance, refer to the 80's new wave synth-pop band? Oh, yes! I'm talking about that notorious pop band, that was part of the new romantics movement, or something. It was my guilty pleasure, at the delicate age of 10. Maybe it was also one of the subconscious reasons, why I switched my main instrument from electric guitar to synths and keyboards a decade later. At some subliminal level, I was magically drawn to the textures of analog synth sounds...

Or whatever...

Quite appropriately, 2 Minutes to Midnight was the second track on the vinyl A side of Iron Maiden's gigantic classic album Powerslave. It's a kind of protest song about nuclear war, with the title referring to the Doomsday clock used by the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists. That symbolic clock represents the countdown to potential man-made global catastrophe. When the clock hands align at midnight, quite frankly, we all will be fucked. The clock was originally set to seven minutes to midnight in 1947. The current reading is 100 seconds to midnight. So, in a way, it's pretty evident, that the world is progressing forward – because it's going downhill in every fucking way possible. I've been listening to this timeless Maiden classic since the time of its' release, on a fairly regular basis, for the past 36 years...and I still can't get tired of it.

British jungle producer Jonny L released an EP in 1996, titled 2 of Us, on a prominent electronic music label XL Recordings. A few years later, I was practicing the haute couture art of flaneuring at the music department of the now-defunct Finnish chain retail Anttila, right next to the Helsinki main railway station. I chanced to lay my eyes on this drum & bass gem among all the one-hit wonders at the discount section. The sight was so disheartening, that I simply had to rescue this poor and misplaced music artefact to a good home. At the time, I was fooling around in the role of some kind of an art director of a project band, that sought to mix acid jazz, organic drum & bass grooves, and various electronica elements into a unique and coherent whole. I had written shitloads of original material for the project, that initially started as an instrumentals-only outfit. However, the band lacked a prominent lead instrument, like saxophone, for example. So, when we met a promising vocalist, we thought it might be a good idea to adjust the concept a little. The title track on this 2 of Us-Ep by Jonny L was one of the songs we auditioned the singer with. Alas, the project turned out to be short-lived, due to numerous non-music-related reasons. We never even coined a name for the band. At some point, though, some of those original song ideas were brought to a fruition, with a temporary line-up, that was pieced together for a special occassion. We warmed up for an underground funk outfit D-Note Unity in a private funk-themed party in Helsinki, in the late 90's. I can't remember the year. The headliner act of the party later evolved into Kemopetrol, so I think it must've happened before 1998? The funk party was a night to remember, to borrow the title of an old 1958 British drama movie recounting the final night of RMS titanic, as the night culminated in an impromptu freeform jam session, that lasted for hours...that is, until the members of both bands were too damn shitfaced to play anymore...

So, to cut to the chase, the nominees for a song with the number two in the title are:

Jonny L: 2 of Us

Iron Maiden: 2 Minutes to Midnight

Next up: the number 3.

Again, it's almost impossible to make the choice between two options: Jane's Addiction and Between the Buried and Me.

I guess, it was a pure accident that I found out about Jane's Addiction's alt.rock in the early 90's. I cannot remember hearing the band's songs on radio, until much later in the 2000's. I have to thank the Finnish grunge band Slumgudgeon for that. I never actually listened to this band, but I remember reading an interview in the Finnish music press, in which one of the band members praised Tom Waits. Or, if I recall right, the band actually deemed Rod Stewart to be downright gay for deflowering the beauty of the Tom Waits original Downtown Train. The interview was so clever and funny, I just had to check out, who the hell was this Tom Waits, anyway. On a side note, the musical primus motors of Slumgudgeon later ended up as the founding fathers of the Finnish metal juggernaut Mokoma. So, one day I went to the local library to check out whether they had any of those mythical Tom Waits albums...and voilà! I actually spotted the magnificent Heartattack and Vine album! But I spotted something else, too. My eyes were exposed briefly to the exquisite cover art of the Ritual de lo Habitual album by Jane's Addiction, while I was looking for something else completely. I thought: if a band has balls to put something like that on the cover, the music simply cannot be that bad! I borrowed both of these albums. I just had to check them out! And I think I must've been happy like a dog with two tails, for hitting such a bull's eye – twice in a row! I guess, that by now, most people of my age are familiar with the more radio-friendly tracks on that Jane's Addiction album, such as Been Caught Stealing and Stop! In my honest and humble opinion, though, the absolute pinnacle track on that album is the 3-part meditation on death and rebirth titled Three Days. It would make a perfect choice for a song with a number in the title...on the other hand, though...

Fairly recently, some two years ago, or something, Devin Townsend was performing in Helsinki, with the warm-up acts being none other than the Norwegian prog-metal mindfuck Leprous, and the band that I wasn't really that familiar with, Between the Buried and Me. To be honest, BTBAM did not exactly win me over with their performance. Such AD/HD metal sure had its' moments of high entertainment, but an hourful of circus music was a bit too much to chew in one take. In a way, the band's music was like a perfect auditive match for a bad crystal meth experience. However, my wife later spotted the band's magnificent cover of the King Crimson original Three of A Perfect Pair. After hearing this, I simply had to re-adjust my view of the band. Actually, this BTBAM interpretation of the song is much better than the original. I guess, Robert Fripp is going to sue my ass for saying this in public, but that's the undisputed, motherfucking truth. It's not a matter of taste, nor is it an opinion. It's a fucking fact. With all due respect. The song lyrics resonate in me with a particular clang of irony, now that I've got my midlife issues sorted out.

So, the most touchy-feely songs with the number three in the title would be:

Jane's Addiction: Three Days

Between the Buried and Me: Three of A Perfect Pair

Then...the number four.

Well, whadda'ya know...the number four proved to be the easiest so far: I could only come up with one option: Four Chords that Made a Million by Porcupine Tree. I refrained from resorting to any progressive rock suites with multiple parts. This particular Porcupine Tree song is from the album Lightbulb Sun. I think I was introduced to the band by my dear bandmates in Souldump, with whom I played for a couple of years cirka 2005. I kinda passed the torch, by introducing the magnificence of Porcupine Tree to my wife later, in 2009. I've got my beloved wife to thank for quite a lot of new artists, that I mighta never discovered, if it wasn't for her tireless hunt for new music via Spotify and such. So, just before this magnificent British post-prog band, fronted by Steven Wilson, went on to an indefinite hiatus, it performed in Helsinki in 2009. I bought the tickets, and took my wife to see the show. After the gig, she was a full-blown fangirl. This particular track here might not be the exact Porcupine Tree song that I love the most, but it's good stuff nevertheless.

Porcupine Tree: Four Chords that Made a Million

I guess, I could go on forever...

Maybe I'll just list the rest of the songs, and see what number I can reach up to:

The Dave Brubeck Quartet: Take Five (one of the first jazz tracks that I fell in love with)

Sneaker Pimps: 6 Underground (everybody had that triphop phase in the mid-90's, right?)

Sting: Seven Days (Ten Summoner's Tales is a kick-ass album!)

The Beatles: Eight Days A Week (who's to NOT like the Beatles?!?)

Jimi Hendrix: If 6 was 9 (the best guitarist of all time, no questions!)

Juan Atkins: Track Ten (Techno is intriguing stuff)

Sigue Sigue Sputnik: Love Missile F1-11 (this was in the Levyraati TV-show, back in the day...)

Creamstar: The 12th of Never (A random finding from some discount bin, Anttila, probably...)

Pantera: 13 Steps to Nowhere (It's a shame I didn't find Pantera any earlier, like when I was 20...)

Swallow The Sun: April 14th (from a killer album!)

Radiohead: 15 Step (In Rainbows is probably their second best effort, after OK Computer!)

Billy Idol: Sweet Sixteen (Nice song, despite the dubious connotations, considering the artist...)

Stevie Nicks: Edge of Seventeen (yet another song about death...)

Skid Row: 18 and Life (Nostalgia...eww...)

Paul Hardcaste: 19 (the chorus was a reason for much laughter as a kid...)

Isis: 20 Minutes/40 Years (went to see their last ever gig in Finland, with a fever of 38 degrees...)

Green Day: 21 Guns (who didn't like skate punk in the 90's?)

Iron Maiden: 22 Acacia Avenue (and who did NOT listen to Iron Maiden in the 80's?!?)

The Brother Johnson: Strawberry Letter 23 (via Jackie Brown, obviously...)

Stevie Vai: Ballerina 12/24 (One of the few guitar wankers that I like, in moderation...)

Chicago: 25 or 6 to 4 (that particular track that converted me to like this band in the early 90's!)

Tuomo: 26 (one of the best Finnish nujazz-or-whatever-jazz artists!)

Walking Across Jupiter: -27 (a recent finding, interesting stuff indeed!)

John Murphy: 28 Theme (one of my favorite film composers, check out Adagio in D minor, too!)

Robert Plant: 29 Palms (This too, was in the Levyraati TV show, back in the day...)

August Burns Red: Thirty and Seven (I guess, djenty emocore is my guilty pleasure nowadays...)

Aimee Mann: Thirty One Today (she has a way with words, been a fan since mid-90's...)

Carpark North & Sandra Nasic: 32 (there's something rotten in Denmark, their indie/alt.rock scene rocks! Awesome bands, like Mew, Carpark North, Veto, and I think Vola is Danish, too...)

Protoculture: Thirty Three South (of course, everybody needs a bit of trance music now & then)

Cult of Luna: Thirtyfour (awesome sludge!)

Egotrippi: Asunto 35 (Class A Suomi-rock)

System Of A Down: 36 (is AD/HD metal an official genre now? It should be.)

Drowning Pool: 37 Stitches (everybody went thru a nu-metal phase in the late 90's, didn't we?)

Eclipse: 38 or 44 (a random finding via Spotify, decent enough to include here)

Tenacious D: 39 (you simply cannot dislike this band!)

Static-X: Forty Ways (I guess, you could write this band off as a Korn rip-off, but they DO have a few decent tracks...)

Azam Ali: Forty One Ways (Enigma-esque etno artist, with nice ambient soundscapes)

Coldplay: 42 (not entirely crap band, though this is not their best track)

Karma to Burn: Fourty-three (Some stonershit is called for here...)

Megadeth: 44 Minutes (I'll hafta admit, that I'm more of a Greatest Hits-type of a fan, when it comes to Dave Mustaine's endeavours...)

Shinedown: 45 (this band: pure fucking awesomeness!)

Tool: Forty Six & 2 (Ruisrock in 2006, a gig to forever remember...)

Boards of Canada: Seven Forty Seven (these electonica bastards are onto something...)

Bones: 48843 (A fresh finding...not sure yet, if this is pure genius or not...)

Röyksopp: 49 Percent (from the kick-ass album The Understanding)

Paul Simon: 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover (killer drum groove by Steve Gadd!)

Van Halen: 5150 (The soundtrack of my childhood)

That's how far I managed to go...I counted that I've got 37 of these in cd format, in my personal collection, and the rest of the songs are ”just” in my Spotify playlist, or as a mp3 on my laptop. Tomorrow I shall challenge myself again to dig into the dark depths of my conventional wisdom, in terms of music.

Stay tuned! Cheers!

[warninggraphiccontent]

3 April 2020

Mega Bites

Unsurprisingly, it's another bumper edition of coronavirus-related links today - though there is some anti-viral content too, on space, British politics and government, the US census, a big geospatial data announcement and some quizzes.

And it's with non-Covid content that we start this week. It's been a bumper (mega/giga/killer) week for Data Bites, with a new report summarising our first eight events on interesting government data projects, and our first-ever live online-only event. (Technical glitches were light - beyond me muting my mic...) A huge thank you to Kirsten, Haroon, Tonu and Alice (who stepped in at the last moment), and to everyone at IfG who helped make it happen. A reminder you can watch all previous events here.

In other news:

I'm a trustee of the Orwell Youth Prize and alumnus of the Orwell Foundation, which runs the Orwell Prizes for political writing and journalism. The Foundation is sticking to its prize-giving timetable, so expect some reading recommendations when the longlists are out next week, while we're giving an extra month (and even more helpful resources) for youth prize entrants. If you are, or know, a 12-18 year old with an interest in writing and politics, get involved!

The good people at Open Opps (you may remember them from Spend Network and various IfG reports on government procurement) have launched a new service to help find suppliers of critical Covid-19-related supplies. Check it out here.

And here's some context for the caprine capers in Llandudno.

Have a good weekend

Gavin

If you enjoy Warning: Graphic Content, why not forward to a friend and suggest they subscribe via email, follow us on Tumblr, or follow us on Twitter?

Today's links:

Tips and tech

So you're going crazy under lockdown? (Peter Martin)

COVID-19 mental health resources for journalists and you (The Carter Center)

Working from home risks online security and privacy – how to stay protected (The Conversation)

Guidance for the public on the mental health and wellbeing aspects of coronavirus (COVID-19) (Public Health England)

10 principles for design in a crisis (Lou Downe)

Designing services in a crisis: what might be the lasting legacy? (Matthew Cain)

'The phone slipped into the bath': Conference call tales (BBC News, via Pritesh)

Would you like your team to be healthier? (John Fitzpatrick)

Top tips for staying secure online (National Cyber Security Centre)

The public servants' guide to remote meetings* (Apolitical)

Why We Laugh at the Coronavirus* (The Atlantic)

Graphic content

Viral content: global

Coronavirus tracked: the latest figures as the pandemic spreads (FT)

Everything you need to know about that pink graph mapping coronavirus death rates by country (FT)

Coronavirus economic tracker: latest global fallout* (FT)

Coronavirus: Can we trust the data? (Sky News)

More (Sky News)

A pandemic, quantified* (Tortoise)

COVID-19 Community Mobility Reports (Google)

Bar chart race (BBC News)

Bar chart race (via Josh Marshall)

Covid-19’s death toll appears higher than official figures suggest* (The Economist)

Covid-19 may be far more prevalent than previously thought* (The Economist)

Covid-19 in the halls of power (South China Morning Post)

The coronavirus ‘Doomsday’ clock (Loughborough University)

Coronavirus charts, spotted by The Pudding

How coronavirus grounded the airline industry* (Washington Post)

The tragedy of two failing superpowers* (FT)

Viral content: UK

'Absolutely wrong': how UK's coronavirus test strategy unravelled (The Guardian)

Virus death toll higher than published UK daily figures, data indicate* (FT)

Britons flock to parks despite lockdown* (FT)

Coronavirus (Centre for Cities)

Coronavirus: Local Authority Cases by Day (GetTheData, via Dan)

The NHS at capacity* (Tortoise)

Key findings: UK public opinion (Ipsos MORI)

What today’s data tells us: people are worried about making ends meet (Citizens Advice)

Public opinion on the COVID-19 coronavirus pandemic (Ipsos MORI)

The economic effects of coronavirus in the UK (Resolution Foundation)

No work, no pay: Supporting unemployed people through coronavirus (Resolution Foundation)

Viral content: US

5.648 people have died from coronavirus in the U.S. (Washington Post)

American states’ responses to the coronavirus follow party lines* (The Economist)

Coronavirus: How the US is becoming the new epicentre of the COVID-19 pandemic (Sky News)

The mammoth US unemployment claims in their historical context. (Ben Riley-Smith)

Very unusual @nytimes front page tomorrow to show record 3 million unemployment claims. (Carolyn Ryan, via Alice)

Remember that dramatic Page 1 of the @nytimes last Friday, with the enormous spike showing 3.3 million unemployment claims? (Joshua Benton)

Every @nytimes story. Watch the virus become the whole page. (Josh Begley)

How US Coronavirus Diagnoses Are Lagging Behind The Outbreak* (New York Times)

Why Jails Are So Important In The Fight Against Coronavirus* (The Upshot)

The coronavirus outbreak won't peak in every state at once (Axios)

What New York Looked Like During the 1918 Flu Pandemic* (New York Times, via Alice)

Lessons from the Spanish flu: social distancing can be good for the economy* (The Economist)

Over 10 million Americans applied for unemployment benefits in March as economy collapsed* (Washington Post, via Ketaki)

From ‘It’s going to disappear’ to ‘WE WILL WIN THIS WAR’* (Washington Post)

The social distancing of America (Reuters)

Social Distancing in New York City (MIT)

Second-Highest Ever: March Gun Sales Spiked as Virus Fears Grew* (New York Times)

Where America Didn’t Stay Home Even as the Virus Spread* (New York Times)

Viral content: Everywhere else

Estimating the number of infections and the impact of nonpharmaceutical interventions on COVID-19 in 11 European countries (Imperial College COVID-19 Response Team, via Alex)

Coronavirus in Australia: how many cases are there? Map, latest numbers and statistics (The Guardian)

Is Australia flattening the coronavirus curve? Look at the charts ... (The Guardian)

Diario visual de la cuarentena (@ErreaCom)

Coronavirus lockdown in Europe (Reuters)

Viral content: #dataviz

When the visual runs away from the data (Junk Charts)

Linear or non-linear scales? Why not both? (Alberto Cairo)

Anti-viral content

The Evolution of the American Census (The Pudding)

Permanent secretaries (me for IfG)

The Labour Party’s electoral challenge (The UK in a Changing Europe)

Hubble’s 30-year legacy (Physics Today)

Infinite Visions Were Hiding in the First Black Hole Image’s Rings* (New York Times)

Meta data

Viral content: spread the word

Call for COVID-19 rapid response data science taskforce (The Alan Turing Institute)

Urgent call for modellers to support epidemic modelling (Royal Society)

UKRI open call for research and innovation ideas to address COVID-19 (UKRI)

Viral content: viral statistics

COVID-19 deaths (ONS - see also statement, blogpost)

Weeknotes from Content and Publishing (S1 E9, 10, 11) (ONS Digital)

COVID-19 and the ONS (Liz McKeown)

RSS statement regarding the COVID-19 outbreak (Royal Statistical Society)

Although... (RSS Data Ethics Special Interest Group)

A statistician’s guide to coronavirus numbers (RSS)

Coronavirus outbreak will harm UK data collection and statistics* (FT)

The inutility of raw data (Junk Charts)

Viral content: data and privacy

The power of data in a pandemic (Technology in the NHS)

Coronavirus: Govt set to release 'contact tracking' app which detects nearby virus carriers (Sky News)

COVID-19 response: open data (UN)

Data ‘black hole’ hampering covid-19 preparations, chiefs warn (HSJ, via Graham)

Why isn't the government publishing more data about coronavirus deaths? (Jeni Tennison for The Guardian)

Data-driven responses to coronavirus are only as good as the trust we place in them (Ada Lovelace Institute)

'Tech firms including Google are set to pass on smartphone data to the government'* (The Times)

Poland’s coronavirus app offers playbook for other governments (Politico)

Coronavirus: NHS uses tech giants to plan crisis response (BBC News, via Graham)

Ex-NSA hacker drops new zero-day doom for Zoom (TechCrunch)

New York Attorney General Looks Into Zoom's Privacy Practices* (New York Times)

Bluetooth tracking and COVID-19: A tech primer (Privacy International)

Viral content: death counts

Mathematics of life and death: How disease models shape national shutdowns and other pandemic policies (Science)

The mystery of the true coronavirus death rate* (FT)

Hidden infections challenge China’s claim coronavirus is under control* (FT)

Why the coronavirus shutdown is worth it (The Critic)

Viral (mis)information

Going Viral: How parallel viralities of the coronavirus and information overwhelmed (and changed) the world (Martin Gurri for The Bridge)

How you can fact check claims about the new coronavirus (Full Fact)

The fake news epidemic: Twitter and Facebook failing to contain Covid-19 misinformation (Press Gazette)

Facebook’s private groups are abuzz with coronavirus fake news (Politico)

Here’s How to Fight Coronavirus Misinformation (The Atlantic)

Covid-19: how to be careful with trust and expertise on social media (The BMJ)

Working at the intersection of infectious disease modeling and the study of misinformation during the worst pandemic in a century (Carl T. Bergstrom)

The Fate of the News in the Age of the Coronavirus* (The New Yorker)

Sorry, But Even Cute Videos About Animals Returning To Cities During The Coronavirus Outbreak Can Be Misleading (BuzzFeed)

Viral content: everything else

Coronavirus: Generation of start-ups could be 'wiped out' without government bailout (Sky News)

Restrictions Are Slowing Coronavirus Infections, New Data Suggest* (New York Times)

Connect and protect: How the tech sector is responding to the coronavirus crisis (Computer Weekly)

How Civic Technology Can Help Stop a Pandemic (Foreign Affairs)

Lessons from Italy’s Response to Coronavirus (Harvard Business Review)

@GOVUK and @GDSTeam launched a service to help extremely vulnerable people get help during the #coronavirus pandemic this week... (Richard Towers)

Without my permission, or even notifying me, Yelp has created a GoFundMe fundraiser for my bar (Andy McMillan)

Why we are living in JG Ballard’s world (New Statesman)

#IFGDataBites

Data Bites: Getting things done with data in government (Institute for Government)

Data Bites #9: Getting things done with data in government (Institute for Government)

Previous events (Institute for Government)

Spatial recognition

Geospatial Commission to release core identifiers under Open Government Licence (Geospatial Commission)

Government investment opens up UPRNs and USRNs for Great Britain (GeoPlace)

Identifying properties and streets in government data (Technology in Government)

Government announces new 10 year Public Sector Geospatial Agreement with Ordnance Survey (Geospatial Commission)

Analysis (Owen Boswarva)

Digital government

NHSX marks the spot: diplomat-turned-digital chief Matthew Gould talks patient data and AI (Civil Service World)

Pointing the way to the future: how technology is going to change justice (Civil Service World)

Andrew Greenway: How GDS conquered the world (Civil Service World)

Universal Credit report (Richard Pope)

Everything else

Becoming more open: the view from four European cities (ODI)

The Magenta Book (HM Treasury)

On indices and indecision (Richard Harries for Centre for Thriving Places)

China and Huawei propose reinvention of the internet* (FT)

Launching OGP’s 2020-22 Plan in a Time of Crisis (Open Government Partnership)

Data Protection Impact Assessments as rule of law governance mechanisms (Data & Policy)

The Law of Informational Capitalism (Yale Law Journal)

INQUIRY: Online Harms and Disinformation (DCMS select committee)

And finally...

Viral content

Podcast listening is down as people work from home (The New Consumer)

#WFH, drawing with the kids... (David Gura, via Alice)

Anti-viral content

QUIZ: TV shows and films as bar charts (via Sophia Oliver)

More (via Ryan Dunn)

What government dataset is this? | Clue | Answer (me)

Otto Neurath's diagrammatic illustration of the Beveridge plan is just astounding (Anton Jäger)

I'm having trouble concentrating on science animations right now, so instead here are some screenshots from my favourite document on the planet: a 'work in progress' document from Pepsi's 2008 rebrand (Andrew M. Webb)

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Losing 30 seconds off of the Doomsday Clock is kind of a big deal, right? The post While You Were Offline: Hey Y’All, Remember to Set Your Doomsday Clocks Forward appeared first on WIRED. WIRED

[newseverbreak]

Technology, Wired

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Losing 30 seconds off of the Doomsday Clock is kind of a big deal, right? The post While You Were Offline: Hey Y'All, Remember to Set Your Doomsday Clocks Forward appeared first on WIRED. from WIRED http://ift.tt/2jrVzM7 from Blogger http://ift.tt/2kBLi1O

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Losing 30 seconds off of the Doomsday Clock is kind of a big deal, right? The post While You Were Offline: Hey Y'All, Remember to Set Your Doomsday Clocks Forward appeared first on WIRED. via WIRED http://bit.ly/2kBpGCG via Blogger http://bit.ly/2kgh7iW

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While You Were Offline: Hey Y’All, Remember to Set Your Doomsday Clocks Forward Losing 30 seconds off of the Doomsday Clock is kind of a big deal, right? The post While You Were Offline: Hey Y'All, Remember to Set Your Doomsday Clocks Forward appeared first on WIRED.

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