#Southampton Hospital

[familythings]

Historic Milestone: First Pediatric Surgery with Robots in the UK

In a groundbreaking leap for pediatric medicine, the United Kingdom has reached a remarkable milestone by successfully conducting its inaugural robotic-assisted surgery on a child. This momentous procedure unfolded at Southampton Children’s Hospital, marking the dawn of a new era of meticulous and compassionate medical interventions tailored to younger patients. The Versius Surgical Robotic…

[manleycollins]

Journal Entry #65 - Happy New Year 2021 in Massachusetts

JOURNAL ENTRY #65 Name: Manley M Collins Social Security Number: 5 7 9 – * * – 6 5 4 1 Date of Birth: 06/21 Place of Birth: Washington, District of Columbia Country of Birth: United States of America Date: January 1, 2021

TOPIC: Happy New Year 2021 in Massachusetts

I am celebrating my first new year in Massachusetts during the second-third wave of the coronavirus/Covid-19 pandemic in the United States of America. I am still single bachelor. I am working for Federal Express and staying at BPHC Southampton Street Shelter. I applied for my first apartment or shared room in Boston for six months. The shared room was a corner room close to the roof approximately 200 square feet. Only one person was in the whole house of eight (8) to nine (9) rooms. The house was cleared out because of the pandemic. The real estate agent was an Asian female young adult with child who was trying to get the rooms rented. I found her through craigslist and other sources of apartment hunting. It was for the period February 1, 2021 to August 31, 2021. The security deposit was $550.00 done by Zelle…and rent was $500 per month. I had Federal Express income, and UberEats and DoorDash income. I gave her my spiel that my credit was sub-par, but I had the income to support the rent and I never miss a rental payment. She ran the credit check and denied me the room. She told me she was refunding the deposit. I told her the same way I sent it…she can send it back. My storage unit was with CubeSmart. I tried Roomster subscription service through the Apple store.

Boston Public Health Commission's 112 Southampton Shelter additional civil case information happening at this time - Attorneys Batool Raza and Timothy Harrington; Rita Nieves is Interim Executive Director:

The second shelter restriction date is Sunday, January 3, 2021.

Action from BPHC Employees and BPHC Police was denial of shelter in weather of below 32 degrees on Sunday, January 3, 2021. a. Description of BPHC individuals from second shelter restriction.

Black male with foreign accent, medium build, 5'7”, brown safety vest, short black hair, dark skinned color, dark eyes, BPHC Employee

Black (African-American) female, curvy figure, unique glasses to fit personality, hair wrapped up as if dreaded, braided, or wig, no safety vest, sits at check-in, 5'8”, maybe supervisor or assistant supervisor, 215 lbs, dresses well depends on the day (sometimes casual, sometimes professional), BPHC Employee

Black (African-American) male, supervisor maybe, slender, 5'8”, 180 lbs, sits at check-in, blue hoodie normally, no safety vest, black hair, haircut very low, dark colored eyes, no earrings or piercings, no visible tattoos, BPHC Employee

Two BPHC police officers (African-American males). b. Evidence of entire shelter restriction video – Exhibit A.

Description of the activity from second shelter restriction date on Sunday, January 3, 2021. a. On Sunday, January 3, 2021, Commonwealth of Massachusetts, County of Suffolk, and City of Boston tried to invoke a rule stating, “Unlabeled or non-readable labels on prescribed medicine cannot be allowed in the building.” Please note at 112 Southampton employees enforced the rule on January 3, 2021 at the time of Plaintiff entry approximately around 11:00 pm to 12:30 am. Plaintiff has the full video on my smartphone and saved it into the cloud and many other places. This is 112 Southampton second time keeping Plaintiff out of the shelter and sending me into the below freezing temperatures outside. As a new resident of Boston and with the pandemic, Plaintiff already went to all the open shelters, which stated no new residents could come in. Other shelters completely offer no services or totally closed. Since this is Plaintiff's first situation encountering this rule, Plaintiff offered 112 Southampton St employees to verify the medicine via Google and told them all the businesses and government agencies involved in providing the medications for my conditions. The choices 112 Southampton St employees gave while pleading total ignorance abyss were as follows

Go to hospital to get it relabeled.

Go to clinic to get it relabeled.

Leave it outside for the current drug addicts currently using drugs inside and outside shelter.

Cannot come in with the medication.

It is BPHC’s attempt to avert from any individual on pressing charges on dumping perfectly legal medication. Plaintiff chose option number 4 because the medication is prescribed for me by reality of Plaintiff's life mental health issues. Thus, the consequence for the second time by 112 Southampton Street employees leading me to hypothermia and shock, Plaintiff had to keep himself awake all night to ensure Plaintiff make it to a warm location the next morning.

Therapy and Psychiatrist with Arbour Counseling Services topics were (Previous Journal topics - I just was repeating them to new people verbally)

Goals Changing my look - weight, hair, etc. New thoughts New information Letting go of mental illness People Introspection The world and mental health Apps of photo sharing, profile sharing, phone number sharing, name sharing FaceBook finding people I never thought I would see again Did not win the lottery Employment by the federal, state, and city - applications denied, but recruiters recruiting for contractor work (Washington, DC, Connecticut, and South Carolina) New hairstyle What's Going On? Thought process Did not get room in South Boston Sexual health results Massachusetts state opportunity

Federal Express civil case information happening at this time.

Additional specifics the people are Ahmed Abdillahi, Alex Angarita, Brianna Guzman, Camila Salas, Christian Langendoen-Hannabury, Claire Alexis, Dakhari Thomas, Ernesto Figueroa, Frederick Yancy, Maria Padilla, Rafael Nerey, Samson Prosper, Don Nash, Andrew Savage. Represented by attorneys Lorenzo Cabantog, Charles Holmes, and Christopher Ahearn.

The additional physical and sexual assaults of hitting continued directed toward me in my arm very hard, across my body while conversing with me. Throughout peak season, it was random touching by people.

Once the initial weeks were over with everyone participating in the physical and sexual assaults, the hitting continued. Please see Exhibit A – Dates of additional assaults. a. Andrew – Team Lead, Jamaican, male, 5'11”, age range 50-70, 215 lbs, medium build for age, normally on middle belt of warehouse, assaulted Plaintiff's arm very hard while arriving down the stairs from the center bridge and I called his name. b. Ahmed Abdillah – kept talking in casual conversation with me while hitting me. Plaintiff do not know any reason why. c. Camila Salas – whenever she had a bad day and FedEx schedulers kept us together on the various belts, she kept punching my shoulders, chest, and stomach/abs for no reason.

Throughout peak season, it was random touching by people.

On COVID-19 vaccination day, Wednesday, January 20, 2021 until Sunday, January 24, 2021 , I informed my Caucasian manager, Garrett Sexton, and the warehouse deck Caucasian team lead, Ronnie, that I received my first Moderna vaccination. However, the assaults really came in. The following happened: a. Ahmed Abdillah – punches made me yell at him to stop hitting and touching me. b. Frederick Yancy – Handler, African-American male, 6'0”, slender, age range 60-70, 195lbs, wears loud colored and matching outfits, did the shaking baby syndrome, and handshake by jerking my arms. c. Ernesto – Team Lead now Ramp Agent, Latino/Hispanic male, 6'1”, football build, 250lbs, age range 25-35, nicknamed Big E, black hair, normally wears short pants and short sleeve anytime of the year, performed the three way touching – salutation hand-to-hand pound, touch on arm, and then the angry punch in shoulder.

After yelling and the hitting stopped with certain individuals, the assaults continued with the following people: a. Dhakari Thomas – Handler, 6'1”, 195lbs, two ear piercings, Sagittarius tattoo on arm, African-American male, normally wears sweatpants, sweat jacket, small to low cut afro, black hair, no glasses, and performed the double hard hit onto shoulders bearing his weight daily onto Plaintiff, then dropped to once a week, and stopped after Plaintiff was placed outside to work. Locations assaults occurred in break room, in employee van, on the warehouse deck, on the warehouse conveyor belts. b. Maria – Handler, 5'4”, blond mixed with brunette hair, black framed glasses, Latino/Hispanic, female, age range 30-45, 150lbs. Performed assault on shoulder in break room and punch my ass on ramp belt after saying hello. c. Rafeal – Handler, 5'5”, age range 45-65, 155lbs, former military, Latino/Hispanic, male, normally wears black stonewashed jeans with red trim and sweatshirt. Performed same tactics as Ahmed Abdillah while attempting to have a casual conversation and hitting Plaintiff. d. Alex Angurita – Team Lead, 5'7”, Hispanic/Latino, male, bicycle rider, 185lbs, tan to very light skinned, black hair, normally wears athletic tights under shorts and shirts, age range 27-47. Performed an out-of-character hard grab of Plaintiff's right arm on ramp side conveyor belt close to airplanes. e. Christian – Handler, 5'8”, slender, Caucasian male, age range 19-30, works casual days, wear baseball cap, wears blue jeans and sweatshirt. Performed a hard grab or slam on Plaintiff's right arm against the ramp belt railing to grab the Plaintiff's attention for a casual conversation. f. Don Nash – Load Captain now Ramp Agent, Caucasian male, age range 50-65, 6'1”, 235lbs, normally wears baseball cap, wears shortpants, always wears a safety vest, dark brown eyes. Performed a hit with an emergency wand on right hand/wrist.

All Defendants violated the pandemic COVID-19 protocols for groups and gatherings and no six (6) feet for general conversations.

Plaintiff's responses to individual human Defendants were withdrawing from them, walking away, avoiding them, placing a FedEx package between us, tapping the Defendant in the same area where the hit occurred, yelling at them, telling them it arises my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), and blocking or attempting to grab the Defendants hands before touching me.

Other topics from first quarter of 2021:

I provided the Massachusetts Department of Mental Health Two Way Authorization.

I continued getting my SARS-COVID-19 Test at Massachusetts General Hospital on 12/28/2020. The Rapid COVID test was ordered while in the emergency room visit. The SARS-COVID-19 PCR reference range came back negative and value was negative. The status was final. My blood pressure was 125/71. Weight was 150 lbs. Temperature 97.8 degrees. Pulse is 70. Respiration was 16. Oxygen Saturation was 100%. Lab test completed was Pandemic Respiratory viral Order (PRO).

I continued getting my SARS-COVID-19 Test at Massachusetts General Hospital on 1/11/2021. The Rapid COVID test was ordered while in the emergency room visit. The SARS-COVID-19 PCR reference range came back negative and value was negative. The status was final. My blood pressure was 120/58. Temperature 98.5 degrees. Pulse is 64. Respiration was 18. Oxygen Saturation was 97%. Lab test completed was Pandemic Respiratory viral Order (PRO).

I visited Studio Optics for my very first set of glasses and vision exam on January 27, 2021. My prescription was for Spectacle RX SPH Distance Right -0.50; Spectacle RX SPH Distance Left -0.50; Spectacle RX CYL Distance Right -0.50; Spectacle RX CYL Distance Left -0.25; Spectacle RX Axis Distance Right 130; Spectacle RX Axis Distance Left 080 - See the photo blogs for the glasses with Ultraviolet protection, scratch resistance protection, trivex, Crizal Alize anti-reflection protection, Blue light filter, anti-fog, and polycarbonate impact-resistant. Laymen's terms is Transitions lenses.

I started researching for dreadlocks hairstylists in New York City. I did travel to New York and stayed at the New York Marriott Marquis at 1535 Broadway. It was to get my hair done. I did rent a car from Enterprise Rent-A-Car and paid for hotel parking. The city was still in partial lockdown. I did New York Minute Dating service zoom and in-person. NY Minute Dating did not feel the same as when I first used the service in 2012-2014. I was using StyleSeat app on find the best hairstylist.

I got my first Moderna COVID-19 vaccination by BHCHP Southampton January 20, 2021.

I got my second Moderna COVID-19 vaccination by BHCHP Southampton February 17, 2021. I went to Massachusetts General Hospital emergency room visit after this dose and get a work excuse for February 18, 2021. I had nausea, nonintractable headache, and vaccine reaction. Medications given was acetaminophen (Tylenol) and ondansetron (ZOFRAN-ODT). Blood pressure was 149/92. Temperature 99.1 degrees. Pulse was 100. Respiration was 18. Oxygen Saturation was 95%.

I did some calculations for focusing on my small business when the federal government was offering PPP loans. I did not take any of them.

I went Dental Associates of New England regarding dental work.

Freegal Music through the District of Columbia Public Library was soothing the hurt of the 15,000 songs music collection lost in Chicago. Massachusetts and Boston Copley Library showed the website with ways to obtain music the same way, but I felt so uncomfortable and did not want the repeat trauma. I can do it Europe.

I was struggling to pay the credit cards that helped me escape from South Carolina's negative impact on my life and start anew in Boston, Massachusetts.

I renewed my membership with United States Track and Field Association and Potomac Valley Track Club.

I went to CVS Minute Clinic for vaccination appointment.

I was actively involved with civil cases in United States District Court of Illinois and First Municipal Circuit Court against City of Chicago, Cook County, Chicago Transit Authority, Chicago Public Library, United States Department of Interior, United States Department of Agriculture, City of Chicago Department of Streets and Sanitation.

Manley M. Collins, is the plaintiff. Mr. Collins was a resident in Chicago 2005-2006 at 1100 North LaSalle Dr, Apt 701, Chicago, IL 60640, and 2015-2016 at 27 North Wacker Drive, Apt 410, Chicago, IL 60610. His phone number is (617) 955-0689. This complaint to address incidents and trauma happened 2015-2016.

United States Department of Agriculture and United States of Department of Interior are the federal level and overseers of funding, operation, enforcers, and providers of needs or wants of the State of Illinois, County of Cook, and City of Chicago.

City of Chicago Department of Streets and Sanitation, City of Chicago, Cook County, and State of Illinois are the owners and operators of the streets, shelters, and public library.

Chicago Transit Authority, City of Chicago, Cook County and Chicago Public Library are the geographical areas where the incidents took place with State of Illinois residents.

The first incident occurred is April 3, 2016 at 175 North State St, Chicago, IL.

The Plaintiff was armed with Admittance to Evidence – Exhibit E – Photos of Lost Items and items listed in Admittance to Evidence – Exhibit A – Police Report for Storage Drives and Computer on April 3, 2016.

a. The Plaintiff was in the midst of a mental health crisis once he got off the CTA subway with his items. b. The Plaintiff was in the middle of a fight or flight response to stress. c. The Plaintiff left his items on State St, where he could no longer carry them through his mental health crisis. d. The Plaintiff remembers the Chicago Police Department, homeless community, Chicago residents, and City of Chicago Department of Sanitation was in the environment where the Plaintiff left his belongings. e. The Plaintiff recalls the City of Chicago Department of Sanitation lifting the heavy army bag into bag of trash truck. f. The Plaintiff recalls homeless, visitors, and residential community distributed his remaining bags and items. g. The Plaintiff went and received medical help and care for his mental health crisis from Northwestern University Hospital, Rush Medical Center, University of Illinois – Chicago Outpatient Care Center, and University of Chicago Emergency Room.

The Plaintiff reported on the week of June 30, 2021 that his brand new bicycle was stolen while staying at a Chicago based shelter for men. The report was made over the phone. See Exhibit C – Police Report for Stolen Bicycle.

The Plaintiff reported on August 16, 2016 that his brand new Apple iPod touch was stolen while in the Chicago Public Library. See Exhibit D – Police Report for Apple iPod Touch technology device.

[aimeedaisies]

Here are photos of The Princess Royal's visit to Princess Anne Hospital when it opened its doors in 1981.

The hospital provides a comprehensive service, including home birth, for about 5,000 women each year from Southampton and the surrounding area.

@UHSFT

1981/2023

Princess Anne at the official opening of the Princess Anne Hospital, Southampton in 1982. 🏥

42 years later she visited the hospital to tour Broadlands Birth Centre and Burley Ward, meeting newborns, their parents, midwives, healthcare support workers, and hospital staff. 👶 Later, on the hospital grounds she planted a rowan tree to commemorate her visit, as part of the Queens Green Canopy project 🌳

[thirteens-pocket-watch]

I've decided to compile all the small pieces of information about future episodes that RTD has given in his Letter from the Showrunner segments in DWM. I've only included things that can tell us something about the episode, so stuff like Bad Wolf investigating if using a certain title is permitted hasn't been included here. I've included the issue each point was given in and I will obviously update after future issues

(Last updated 14.09.24)

2023 Specials

The Star Beast

- Contains the words westerly, pelican and dreams (584)

- Page seven contains the line "Oh, Nerys and her big mouth!" (585)

- The reconstructed opening scene made from fan recordings of filming contains lines that were cut from the final version of the episode (595)

Wild Blue Yonder

- Contains the words wild, Southampton, vegetable, Flux, bean and starlight (585)

Extra

- RTD refers to a "terrifying scene with Sue" and two celebrity historical figures in the upcoming specials (596)

- None of the specials will air on the 1st, 17th or 23rd of November (596)

Series 14/Season 1

Space Babies (Episode 1)

- Contains the words roar, Glastonbury and conquistador (589)

- The title was said aloud in Star Trek: Picard 3 (590/591)

- Scene 11 is headed as INT. CONTROL ROOM and the stage directions say "THE DOCTOR and RUBY walk in to find a cool, sleek, metal CONTROL ROOM, full of CONSOLES" (598)

The Devil's Chord (Episode 2)

- Scene 10 is set INT. CANTEEN. DAY (585)

- Contains the words Liverpool, legions and non-diagetic (586)

- The title of the episode was revealed (598)

73 Yards (Episode 4)

- Had the line "I once went to the top of the Shard" cut from the script (589)

Rogue (Episode 6)

- Page 10 contains the line "I am ruined" and it is said by a character named Emily (598)

- When talking about watching the final mix of this episode, RTD threw in the quote "Live vivisection!" (602)

The Legend of Ruby Sunday (Episode 7)

- First line of the script is INT. COFFEE BAR, USA - DAY, 1947 (584)

- RTD said he recomends midnight viewing for this episode because "it's shocking, frankly, and there might be screaming!" (603)

Empire of Death (Episode 8)

- Contains the words kingdom, gold and Tigella (592)

- Contains the words terror, dust, pizza, Einstein, death and opera (598)

- One of the above words is also in the title (598)

Extra

- An unspecified episode had the word "sixpence" in the title before the plot about said sixpence was cut (591)

- There is a crucial scene, designated 27B, in an unspecified episode with an as-yet unannounced guest star (593)

- The aforementioned scene contains the debris of a fallen statue with an 8 foot tall head as part of the set (593)

- The last scene to be filmed for series 14 was a scene in the TARDIS in the "middle bit of the finale" (whether this is episode 7 or 8 is not specified) and the Doctor slides to the ground at some point during the scene (594)

- RTD says the following about the upcoming season: "Will we ever see Mondo Caroon? Where exactly is Bertie Lester? And how many people does it take to fly an asteroid hopper?" (603)

Series 15/Season 2

Episode 1

- Scene One features none of the regular cast (600)

Episode 2

- The episode features a guest star who's been in the show before but in a different role (600)

Episode 3

- RTD mentions that Ncuti Gatwa is rehearsing with a Special Guest Star for their 13th episode. I assumed he was referring to his 13th episode with Gatwa and didn't count the anniversary specials (597)

Episode 7

- RTD mentions a text message from Verada Sethu and says "(my reaction to Season 2, episode 7, Sc. 48 as her character faces... oh, you'll see!). I'd just said, what great rushes" (605)

Extra

- An unspecified episode contains the words garden, firmament and diploma (592)

- An unspecified episode contains the words radiation, moth and skiffle (597)

- The sets include a hotel, a chamber and a hospital (597)

- More sets are listed, including the UNIT OPs room, the Sundays' flat, "a set so real we could rent it out as its actual self" and an "absolute labyrinth of a set" (potentially an actual labyrinth based on a previous comment from director Makalla McPherson) (601)

- RTD confirmed that the 2025 season will not contain an episode celebrating 20 years of New Who (602)

- On the 8th March 2024, RTD claimed they were "shooting a scene that will live forever in Doctor Who history" (602)

- The "climax" of season 2 contains the words tinderbox, Croydon and threshold (603)

- RTD says "oh, I wish you could see that guest star" about the aforementioned episode (603)

- A "great guest star" is once more alluded to when RTD brings up Phil Collinson doing ADR with them in July (607)

- The director that the above mentioned ADR is being recorded for is Amanda Brotchie (607)

- RTD mentions a "particular shot of London (...) for FX work" and and "important drone shoot in a major city, thousands of miles away" for s2 (607)

[stephensmithuk]

A Study in Scarlet Chapter 1

This novel was originally published in 1887 as part of Beeton's Christmas Annual.

Netley is a village near Southampton, home to a military hospital that was opened in 1863 and at 435m long, was the longest building in the world at the time. It saw use in both World Wars, but fell into disrepair after that - after a 1963 fire damaged much of the building, the place was demolished in 1966 and only the chapel remains. A military psychiatric facility remained on site until 1978,

The Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers is now part of the Royal Regiment of Fusiliers, whose 5th Battalion is today a Reserve regiment.

The 66th (Berkshire) Regiment of Foot disappeared in 1881 as part of army reforms, being one of the ancestors of the modern day The Rifles.

The Battle of Maiwand on 27 July 1880 was one of the key battles of the Second Anglo-Afghan War; to put it simply, it was a heavy British loss although the Afghans, led by Ayub Khan, themselves had a lot of casualties themselves. Two Victoria Crosses were awarded for the battle and the retreat afterwards. Khan's forces were decisively defeated a month later at the Battle of Kandahar, the British ultimately winning that war.

A jezail was a handcrafted long-barreled rifle; very accurate for their time, they were generally highly decorated as well. Some saw use against Soviet forces in that particular conflict in Afghanistan.

Enteric fever is another name for typhoid fever; even with modern treatment, the death rate can be 1-4%.

The Criterion Restuarant is located on 224 Piccadilly and a plaque commemorating Watson's meeting with Stamford was added by the Baker Street Irregulars in 1981. It is currently closed, but the current owners plan to turn it into an Indian restaurant with as much decor as the listed building status allows.

The Bunsen burner was developed in the 1850s by German chemist Robert Bunsen and his assistant Peter Desaga.

Police News of the Past references The Illustrated Police News, a sensationalised tabloid newspaper that ran from 1864 to 1938.

[grandmaster-anne]

3 February 2023 The Princess Royal, Patron, The Royal College of Midwives, visits Princess Anne Hospital at University Hospital Southampton NHS Foundation Trust, Coxford Road, Southampton, Hampshire. 📸: Southern Daily Echo

[pennyclifford]

My Titanic Secret

I hardly ever tell anyone but extremely close friends ‘My Special Secret Of  Titanic’, in fear that I might get scoffed at ..

If you are not believer in extraordinary happenings or past lives, I URGE you not to read on ..

I have had a very colorful life being a Transgender Showgirl and over the years have been lucky to experience things I never expected too, but I always felt there must be a reason for my life’s journey that I was taken on.

As a young boy I hardly ever did anything slightly masculine or remotely boyish, I was a child librarian, sang in the choir, went to dance classes, knitted and generally acted like a girl..

But there was 1 thing I was completely addicted to in the 1960's & 70's and that was anything to do with the Titanic .. (this was long before James Cameron's movie made the ship popular).

I would read book after book on Titanic, had posters on my bedroom wall and built 1 hobby model after another of the great Ship..

Even as my teenage years came on, Titanic and its posters on my bedroom wall still outnumbered my ABBA posters and that was truly a big deal..

I never really understood my infatuation with her (Titanic) and just enjoyed my love for the story without analyzing it.

Another aspect of my childhood was that I would never let my head be put underwater, whether it was at the beach, in a pool or in the bath, it terrified me, I would go into hysterics if it accidentally happened.

Later in life as I started my journey on the road of a Transgender woman and faced many struggles in changing my gender, I often sought spiritual avenues to help me along the way..

One such path in the late 1980's was a clairvoyant called Karen who lived in Bondi and only did readings for Gays, Lesbians & Trans People as she felt we were more interesting …

In my early years of Trans life, I often questioned my journey and was it the right path for me, and I thought a ‘reading’ my give me insight to my future, but what I discovered was a revelation to my past..

Karen, read my cards but it was not till she read my jellewery ( a gold ring) that I was left dumbstruck and my childhood made sense.

She told me that I had been a little girl of 6 or 7 who died on the Titanic, I was in 3rd Class (Typical) and My Mum and Brother died with me..

Karen went on to say that she felt that I had a bond with the Titanic that was unbreakable and that my life would often revolve around important dates in relation to Titanic.

She then asked had I ever in my past read anything about Titanic and how did I feel about water or being on a boat.

My childhood memories filled me, and I suddenly felt like all the pieces of a jigsaw fell into place, my obsessiveness about Titanic, my fear of water and never really feeling safe on a boat..

Karen said that as I travelled through life Titanic and its special dates would still play integral moments in my life..

There are many moments over the years that I can relate my life to dates of the Titanic April 12th when she sailed and April 14th when she struck the iceberg and April 15th when she sank, my longest lasting relationship was where my BF’s Birthday was the day the Titanic sailed out of Southampton.

One of my very close friends who helped define me in the 90’s, his birthday was the Day the Titanic struck the Iceberg, and my eldest brother died the day the Titanic first touched water when it slid out of its dry dock in Belfast. I have lost and started jobs on these dates and many more meaningful occurrences are all centered around the same dates.

I am sure if I sat and truly analyzed special moments in my life I would find more historic comparisons but none more that the next secret ..

After many soul-searching years of Trans life, I finally decided to undergo sex reassignment surgery in 1990 and seeing 2 Doctors decided on Dr Howell a Gynecologist in Macquarie St.

After many appointments and 3 years of Psychiatrist therapy I was approved. I was booked into Canterbury Public Hospital for the Surgery March 24th.

I was beside myself with nerves and on the day showed up to the hospital only to be told there had been a major accident and there were no beds.. I was horrified as I had worked up through my nerves..

I saw Dr Howell the next day and requested to go to a Pvt Hospital and that I would find the extra $ as I knew that there, they would not turn me away next time no matter what.

I, without thinking of dates, as I was so in the head space of my surgery checked into Double Bay Pvt Hospital 12th April (The day Titanic Sailed on her Maiden Voyage) and on the 14th April had my Surgery (The day Titanic hit the Iceberg) and came out of the anesthetic on the 15th April (The day Titanic Sunk).

Of course, at the time I was oblivious to these coincidences but a few months after my surgery I went back to Karen the Clairvoyant now that my Trans Journey was complete and had a new reading ..

She then reminded me of the dates and Titanic and told me that the surgery was was my soul finally finding the Women’s body I was meant to be in and transforming on the dates was no coincidence, this was how it was meant to be..

I was dumdfounded and still feel quite erie when I tell story..

I am sure there will be some of you that will be laughing, scoffing or will be disbelievers but this is my life, and it makes sense to me in every fiber of my being ..

Its My Special Secret of The Titanic.

[famdommcfanface]

DONNA NOBLE WAS BORN IN SOUTHAMPTON

You cannot understand how exciting that is to someone from Southampton. Southampton fucking never gets mentioned unless someone's going through it for a boat.

The chance that Donna was born in the Princess Anne hospital like me and most people around here I know is very much not zero.

[shannyh25]

One thing I don't understand about your Anne / Titanic crossover. The Titanic only made one voyage across the Atlantic from England and sank midway. Where are Anne, Gilbert, etc. supposed to have boarded, Southampton? Cobh(Queenstown)? How did they get there?

My friend and I have been discussing that. We were thinking maybe Gilbert had an older sister and she eloped when he was younger. Gilbert can be in England on either research for the hospital or a medics conference. Some how, word got to his sister that he was there. He sees her again and she has a daughter. His sister asked that after she passes away, to take her daughter to NYC on titanic to live with her other uncle. Only, her other uncle doesn’t want her. So Gilbert and Anne take her in as their own.

[believemetheodore]

Whether near or far

Ted Lasso x Rebecca Welton

Rebecca is missing. And Ted feels sick to his stomach.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, non graphic references to the death of Ted's father, mentions of alcohol, Rupert is mentioned, panic attack/ general anxiety (please let me know if you want me to add anything else)

Rebecca is missing. And Ted feels sick to his stomach. 

He does his best to nod along as Keeley relays what information she knows. She hasn’t been able to get ahold of Rebecca for almost 48 hours. Her phone goes straight to voicemail. She hasn’t been in the office, and she’s not at her house. Keeley’s obvious concern amplifies his own as she continues to speak. 

Keeley was already waiting in the car park when Ted and the team got off the bus, the first thing out of her mouth being, “Ted, have you heard from Rebecca?” His heart stopped. He had yet to hear from Rebecca. She had texted him to say good luck before their game against Southampton, followed by a congratulatory text and a goodnight later in the evening. That’d been 12 hours ago. 

He has so many questions he wants to ask, all of them on the tip of his tongue. But all Ted can manage to do is continue to nod along, and at this point, he can’t tell if it’s a polite confirmation or if it’s simply an attempt to shake the ringing sound from his ears. 

A glance over at Beard and Roy is all he needs to excuse himself for the rest of the day. His shirt collar feels too tight, and his backpack too heavy, but he doesn’t waste any time making his way toward Rebecca’s house. 

He calls her mobile once, twice, and three times. Each call goes straight to voicemail, and he fights back the wave of nausea that hits him each time he hits redial. The spare key Rebecca gave him months ago burns a hole in his pocket the closer he gets to her doorstep. He has no reason to think that he'll find anything other than what Keeley told him she'd found, an empty wine glass on the kitchen counter, her bed unmade, and each room as empty as the last. Still, part of him keeps hoping, pushing down his fear. 

Rebecca isn't home, and wherever she is she went in a hurry, or without care. Her purse and winter coat were left behind. His mind wanders to worst-case scenarios as he locks the door behind him, London’s icy weather hitting him like a wall. 

He hates this feeling. Memories of the time his son Henry broke his arm at school flood his mind. It was more than a year ago now, but there has never been a feeling worse than wanting to look after someone and not being able to. Only being able to see his little boy over facetime as he showed off his new cast broke his heart. And Ted can feel that familiar cracking beneath his ribs as he imagines the possibility of her being somewhere hurt or sick, and all alone.

Ted grapples with himself, fighting to keep Rebecca’s wellbeing at the forefront of his mind, making his way on foot around Richmond, stopping anywhere he thinks she might’ve ended up. He sees her well enough after all this time to know everything she does is for a reason. Rebecca wouldn’t just up and disappear without cause. Though, he can’t decide if that makes him feel better or worse about this situation. 

He calls her mother, but Deborah Welton can only confirm that Rebecca hasn’t been taken to the hospital, and isn’t hiding out in her childhood home. “Ted, sweetheart, don’t wear yourself thin fretting over Rebecca. She used to do this when she was a girl. Run away and hide for a while,” Deborah tries to offer her comfort, he can nearly hear her gentle smile, “She hid up in our attic for a whole week one summer, lived off of meals from a picnic basket I was leaving at the bottom of the stairs”. 

He likes the idea of young Rebecca being so stubborn. He likes the confirmation that she's always been tenacious, and fiercely independent. He can see the vein of shyness running through her, even in that childhood tale. It's a quiet nervous quality visible in her tendency to bury herself rather than feel as though she's burdening others. She's timid in her acceptance of affection of any sort. Though it's been a privilege to hop over those fences, and help break down some of those walls she built. 

He thinks about himself as a child. Probably just as hard-headed, persistent in his need to complete any task he'd set his mind to. He knows his habit of shutting down difficult feelings and deflecting from his own troubles has followed him into adulthood, and by golly if it hasn't come back to bite him in the butt. He's working on it. Rebecca makes it easier. 

Deborah’s words help slow his racing mind. He focuses on the positive: Rebecca has done this before, and she's more than likely safe. She'll be okay. 

“I’ll take your word for it,” Ted breathes out, “any idea where she might be now?” “She’s always been a mystery to me. But, wherever she is, it’ll be right under your nose. She never strays too far from home”. 

It's like the worst scavenger hunt he's ever been on. Doing what he needs to do to recall everything Rebecca has ever told him; trying to call to mind the tiniest details. He picks up the metaphorical pieces she's left behind, hints and clues she's sprinkled into their daily conversations, neither of them the wiser. He can only hope he's known her well enough, loved her well enough, to find her hiding spot. 

It's raining now, but Ted hardly notices the wet spots on his puffer jacket as he makes his way across the green, through winding cobblestone alleyways. Rebecca isn't in the pub, but Mae promises to let him know if she catches head or tail of her. 

His home isn't too far, and his feet carry him without instruction, his hands shoved in the pockets of his khakis. Ted runs over the last couple of weeks, trying, and to his dismay, failing to pinpoint any stressors that may have prompted Rebecca's sudden disappearing act. He can't remember her acting out of sorts. 

She seemed so calm, and decidedly content the last time he saw her. She had been curled up in bed with a smile across her sleeping face when he snuck out at 5 am to meet the team for their away game. But there must've been something he missed, a worry of hers he didn't hear, her insecurities creeping in. 

His stomach twists and he can feel nausea returning, his own past and regrets fueling his anxiety. Doctor Sharon has walked Ted through turning his life inside-out, upside-down, and backward. Helping him come to terms with all his lingering animosity, and misplaced guilt. Still, his mind continues to retrace those familiar steps on a downward spiral, drawing comparisons where there are none.

When his father died Ted spent a week in bed, staring up at the acoustic tile ceiling of his aunt's basement. Despite his anger and upset, Ted had been desperate to understand how he hadn't seen his father's death coming. Surely there had been red flags, or glaring warning signs he had missed. 

He never could put his finger on anything. Ted let his rage set in. Allowed his resentment to grow, and the tiny pit of guilt to make a home. Stole beer and liquor from the fridge for the rest of his senior year. He made his friends laugh, even if it was at his expense. College was much the same, though he did his best to slow down on the drinking, especially once Beard was in the picture. 

Ted had sworn he wouldn't let anyone get by him knowing that they might be hurting inside. He'd seen the pain Rebecca had on her shoulders the moment they met, and he'd helped her carry the load, shedding some of his own baggage along the way. But now it seems there's something he missed. 

He shakes his head again, wiping out the mental image of days gone by. He's starting to feel like an etch-a-sketch with all this shaking to erase business. 

He reaches his own doorstep, waving hello to familiar faces as they pass while he searches for his keys. He plasters on a bright smile, and hopes that it's enough to distract from the way his hands haven't stopped shaking. 

He takes the stairs up, slow and steady not certain that he trusts his legs to support him if he goes any faster. He's knees feel weak and he knows it's only a matter of time before he crashes to the floorboards. He's determined to make it into the privacy of his own flat first though. 

His backpack is abandoned by the door and he's quick to throw off his jacket, and shimmy out of his pullover. Jittery fingers fight the tiny buttons of his shirt collar, working them open to free his breath. 

His knees give out in the kitchen and he resigns himself to ride out the panic attack with his back to the kitchen cupboards. He's honestly just glad he made it home.

Ted focuses on his breathing exercises, breath stuttering when his anxious thoughts win out. 

People don't just run away to hide without cause. Rebecca and Ted have only really been together for a few months, though they'd both be fools to assume they haven't been in love far longer than that. It breaks his heart to think that maybe she didn't trust him enough to share her struggles with him. Maybe, like he was for Michelle, he's become too much to handle. Maybe it's him she's hiding from. He's not sure he'd blame her if that was the case. 

In for four. Hold for seven. Out for five. Ted forces himself to breathe the way Doctor Sharon had taught him. It takes a while, but it works. 

The sun is much lower in the sky by the time he regains feeling in his limbs, and the ringing in his ears stops. He needs to use the countertop to steady himself as he stands but feels surprisingly stable once he's at his full height again. There’s a bottle of whiskey in the living room calls to him, but he pours himself a glass of cold water instead. Logic prevails as Ted reasons that surely Deborah Welton is right. Rebecca likely hasn't gone far, and she'll re-emerge when she feels comfortable doing so; he decides he should be sober when she does. 

He’s on his second glass of water when he notices the cashmere cardigan draped over the arm of his sofa. A quick look towards the front door reveals the silver sneakers he walked right past in his state of panic. It’s his home, but he still tiptoes down the hall and up the stairs towards his bedroom. As expected there’s a human-sized lump under the navy blue duvet, curled up in the middle of the double bed. 

“Becca?” his voice is low as he crouches next to the bed. He resists the urge to reach out and touch her. Part of him is too afraid to scare her off, the rest still not entirely convinced she’s been here all along. 

She stirs, rolling over to face him, green eyes fluttering open. “Good morning,” she sighs. He can’t help the chuckle that leaves him, “Not quiet”. Rebecca’s brows furrow as she blinks herself awake. Ted’s face comes into focus, his eyes rimmed red. “You’re home early,” she says. 

He nods, “boys were ready to leave earlier in the morning than we expected. Traffic wasn’t bad”, Ted confirms. “Keeley said she couldn’t get a hold of you. You weren’t at home when she went to check either”. 

“I'm sorry,” she whispers. 

Normally the quiet tone is reserved for early morning mumbled affections, flirtations and dirty jokes; light and accompanied butterfly kisses or mischievous laughter. 

Now, she sounds frightened and ashamed. He can see the damage Rupert's talons left behind, the concessions she continues to pay. And Ted works to set aside the influx of his own emotions, waiting to hear her out before he reacts. 

She breathes deeply, her voice stronger when she says, “I didn't mean to worry you. I didn't think you'd be home until tomorrow morning”.

“You just wanted to hide for a while” Ted offers an understanding smile. His left hand reaching to help loosen the vice-like grip her right hand has on the duvet, “ain't nothing wrong with that”.

She shrugs. She wanted to hide. Overcome by an urge to run away. But, she could've gone anywhere. She could've booked a flight, or spent a month in the Mediterranean on her yacht. But, instead, she dug out the spare key that Ted had given her and snuggled herself down under his duvet. She thinks now that maybe she didn't want to get lost, but rather wanted to be found.

They agree to shower together. Washing away any lingering hurts or fears. Content to have their own moment completely alone. He helps her wash her hair, and she laughs when soap suds get stuck to his mustach, even more, when he adds more just to make her happy. She calls him silly, but he can hear the affection in her voice. He can feel it when she cups his cheek, their eyes meeting; her silent way of checking in. 

She puts her silk pyjama pants back on but steals one of her worn sleep shirts for the night. Ted tries not to read into it but allows himself to relax at the sight of her in his clothes; a reminder that she isn’t going anywhere. 

“I guess I should let your mom and Keeley know I’ve found you,” Ted smiles his usual little smile, much more himself now. “You called my mum?” He sets his phone down on his nightstand after shooting off the necessary texts. Neither of them wastes much time before slipping into bed together. Ted shrugs, “Figured she might know where you were hiding”. 

Rebecca hums. She doesn’t love how close Ted and her mum are, especially since her own relationship with the woman is still on the mend. But, the innocence and genuine nature of his reason for reaching out to Deborah settle her mind. His honesty reminds her Ted never has much to hide from her. 

“What did mum have to say?” “She said you’d probably be right under my nose,” Ted’s voice is muffled now as he nuzzles against her neck, “She was right”. “I just needed to get away. I feel safe with you. I suppose your flat was the next best thing”. 

In the morning they’ll talk about what had Rebecca all stressed out and jonesing for a place to hide. And, Ted will tell her about his panic attack, and how afraid he was when Keeley said Rebecca was missing. They’ll make plans for the future, and build a mental map to help them both navigate days like this should they come again. 

Tomorrow will be a day for understanding, clarity, and growth. They’ll learn to love each other better than they already do and shut down all unneeded apologies. 

But tonight, exhaustion wins out. Rebecca is at peace in Ted’s arms where she feels safest, the rest of the world held at bay. Ted finds sleep easy with the smell of Rebecca’s shampoo on his sheets, and her fingertips tracing patterns up and down his back. They focus on the moment they’re in. Loved, and in love, certain they’ll make it through this. Together. 

[princessanneftw]

Here are photos of The Princess Royal's visit to Princess Anne Hospital when it opened its doors in 1981.

The hospital provides a comprehensive service, including home birth, for about 5,000 women each year from Southampton and the surrounding area.

Photo credits: Daily Echo

@UHSFT | 3 February 2023

[aimeedaisies]

The Princess Royal’s Official Engagements in June 2024

04/06 As Master of the Corporation of Trinity House, attended the Trinitytide Anniversary Annual Court Meeting, Church Service and Luncheon. ����⛪️🍽️

As Colonel-in-Chief, The Royal Corps of Signals, this afternoon inspected The Queen’s Gurkha Signals Regiment on public duties at St James’s Palace. 🫡

As Chairman of the International Olympic Committee Members Election Commission, held a Members Election Commission Meeting at St James’s Palace. 💼

05/06 With Sir Tim As Colonel-In-Chief of The Royal Regina Rifles, unveiled a statue and attended a Reception at 10 Place des Canadiens, Thue et Mue, Bretteville. 🇬🇧🇫🇷🇨🇦

With Sir Tim Attended a service of commemoration and reception to mark the 80th anniversary of the D-Day Landings at Bayeux War Cemetery. 🪦🪖

With Sir Tim As President of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, attended the Annual Service in Bayeux Cathedral to commemorate the 80th anniversary of the D-Day Landings. ⛪️

With Sir Tim As President of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, attended a service to commemorate the 80th Anniversary of the D-Day Landings at Bayeux War Cemetery. 🪦🕯️

06/06 With Sir Tim Attended the Annual Founder’s Day Parade at the Royal Hospital Chelsea. 💂

As Colonel of The Blues and Royals (Royal Horse Guards and 1st Dragoons), attended a Household Cavalry Council Meeting at Hyde Park Barracks. 🐎

07/06 Opened Forest of Dean Community Hospital. 🏥

Visited Ruskin Mill Trust in Nailsworth. 🏫

09/06 Attended the Bramham International Horse Trials Prize Giving, on its 50th anniversary. 🏇🏼

11/06 Opened Mercator Media Limited’s 25th Anniversary Seawork Marine Exhibition in Southampton. ⛴️

As Patron of the British Nutrition Foundation, visited the British Armed Forces Nutrition Programme at The Royal Logistic Corps Regimental Museum in Winchester. 🍏🍊

As Patron of Farms for City Children, and Past Master of the Worshipful Company of Butchers, attended a Festival of Learning at Butchers’ Hall. 🥩🥓🍖

Unofficial Sir Tim attended a reception at the King Edward VII Hospital and unveiled a plaque dedicated to Sir Jameson Boyd Adams. 🍾

With Sir Tim As Royal Fellow of the Royal Academy of Engineering, attended The Prince Philip Fund Commemoration Dinner at Prince Philip House. 🍽️🍾

12/06 On behalf of The King, held an Investiture at Windsor Castle. 🎖️

As Chancellor of the University of London, attended the School of Advanced Study 30th Anniversary Reception at Senate House. 📚📖

As President of The Duke of Edinburgh’s Commonwealth Study Conferences, attended a Dinner. 🍽️🗺️

13/06 As Patron of Transaid, visited the Multimodal 2024 Exhibition. 🛻

As Patron of the Townswomen’s Guilds, attended the Annual General Meeting. 💼

As Patron of the Foundation for Future London, attended the UK Cultural Exchange launch. 🇬🇧🗺️

With Sir Tim As President of the Royal Society for the encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce, attended a President’s Panel Discussion and Dinner. 🎤🍽️

14/06 Presided over a conference attended by the Colonels of the Regiments of the Household Division. 💂

Cavalry Regiments

Blues and Royals - Princess Anne

The Life Guards - Non - Royal

Footguards

Grenadier Guards - Queen Camilla

Coldstream Guards - Non - Royal

Scots Guards - Prince Edward

Irish Guards - Catherine, Princess of Wales

Welsh Guards - Prince William

Reserves

London Guards - Prince Edward

15/06 With Sir Tim Trooping the Colour

17/06 With Sir Tim Attended a chapter of the Most Noble Order of the Garter in the Throne Room, Windsor Castle. 🏰

With Sir Tim Attended a luncheon, hosted by the King, at Windsor Castle. 🍽️

With Sir Tim Attended an Installation Service was held in St George’s Chapel at which The Duchess of Gloucester was installed as a Lady of the Most Noble Order of the Garter. 🪽🎖️

18/06 unofficial Attended day one of Royal Ascot. 🏇🏼

19/06 unofficial Attended day two of Royal Ascot. 🏇🏼

20/06 unofficial With Sir Tim Attended day three (Ladies Day) of Royal Ascot. 🏇🏼

21/06 With Sir Tim Attended the RNLI Beating Retreat, Reception and Dinner at the Old Royal Naval College in Greenwich. 🛟🥂🍽️

22/06 With Sir Tim As Patron of the Eric Liddell 100, attended a Service in St Giles’ Cathedral, followed by a Reception to commemorate 100 years since Eric Liddells Olympic gold medal win. 🥇

~ Engagements cancelled due to hospitalisation ~

Total official engagements for Anne in June:

2024 total so far:

Total official engagements accompanied by Tim in June:

2024 total so far:

FYI - due to certain royal family members being off ill/in recovery I won't be posting everyone's engagement counts out of respect, I am continuing to count them and release the totals at the end of the year.

[joemuggs]

The Local is the Local

OK this is another unfinished article. Entirely my fault this time. I wrote it as a draft for a magazine, who asked me to rejig it (fairly in this case - it's a bit bitty), but life events stopped me doing the rewrite in time - and the longer it sat on my hard drive the more of a burden redoing it felt.... So I just need to dump it here, get it out there, and then develop the theme in a new way next year. Because it IS about something important to me (to all of us really), so hopefully having it out in the world will help me get my thoughts in order. Interesting sidetone: I had not heard of Cory Doctorow's concept of "enshittification" when I wrote it!

**********

To paraphrase Dickens, they were the shittest of times, they were the even shittierest of times. The litany of war, pestilence, impoverishment, looming destruction, failing institutions and all the rest really, really isn’t funny any more. Just shit. Even the lowest-information of punters notices the decline daily: not just when they need services like police or doctors or public transport, but in the very fabric of things. Even the relatively cosy market town where I live with my family – having moved out of South London to the New Forest in 2017 to give our two then-small kids space and fresh air – noticeably has crumbling building facades and a lot of shut-down shops, and the big towns are worse.

Our nearest cities are Southampton – which to be fair has never recovered from its PTSD from World War II anyway – and Bournemouth. Bournemouth, too, has always been a bit tatty – seedy too, the epitome of faded Victorian glamour – but nonetheless energetic, like the party town it is: a kind of Brighton minus the airs and graces. Lately, though, that energy is muted to say the very least. The city centre is eerie as anything with some of the biggest department and chain stores boarded up with nothing to replace them. It’s not quite a wasteland, but it’s not itself, either. It’s not right. It feels sad.

It’s easy to get angry about this stuff. It’s even easier to get down and defeated. A decade and a bit of neglect of… well…everything in the name of austerity has weakened everything, eroded the resilience needed to ride out the latest economic shocks. And the state of towns and cities doesn’t just symbolise this, they are the heart of the problem, the ebbing away of commerce and socialisation in them drives atomisation. Often it feels like too many people are beaten down, resigned, heading not towards riots but just towards a creeping anomie, distancing and acceptance of inevitable worsening of… well… everything.

There are oases of hope though – albeit slightly odd ones. Some of the best times I’ve had in Bournemouth lately have been at record fairs. Now, yes, I’m a middle aged man with decks and Kallax shelves in the garage, but honestly, this isn’t what you’re thinking. These aren’t just forums for people like me to jostle and hustle over dusty crates and bore on about rare pressings. They’re family affairs. They’re fun. The Eats’n’Beats fair takes over coffee roasters’ courtyards, with food, clothes and craft stalls. Re:Warm’s pop up shop is run by Balearic geezers, taking over a craft brewery taproom so people of all ages can eat, drink and socialise all day long around the music.

There’s two vital parts to this, the first being the food and drink. Food halls, stalls and fairs have maybe got a bad name lately, thanks to blanded out mall versions, price gouging at festivals and – worst – the gentrification spearhead affairs masterminded by hospitality industry wideboys to create bourgeois enclaves in big cities where almost all white attendees can sample safe packets of “ethnic” experience for £8 a recycled cardboard plateful. But step outside the metropoles and the picture is very different. People are thrilled by culinary variety, and very glad indeed to support local cooks and produce merchants. Food fairs are actual special occasions.

Back in late 2020, Covid still running amok, Owen Hatherley wrote a piece for the Guardian about high street regeneration focusing on how the people of Preston, Lancs took the initiative in what he called “craft beer social democracy, based on small trades doing interesting things.” My antennae sparked on reading it and I couldn’t get the phrase “craft beer social democracy” out of my head. If an arch Corbynist like Hatherley could find things to love in something so close to the Cameronian Big Society / Jamie Oliver Big Lunch model, odd things were afoot.

The second element in play is music, especially club music, and the culture that comes with it. The Balearic aspect in particular – laid back, anything-goes, not beholden to the doof-doof, but smart and interesting sounds – provides the perfect atmosphere to come-one-come-all daytime events. Even in a staid village, get a few people sitting around on haybales drinking craft cider and eating pizza, play “I’m Not in Love”, some Soul II Soul and some Róisín Murphy on nice speakers, and hey presto: vibes upon vibes. And just as importantly, the hypersocial, and now cross-generational, nature of club culture provides its own infrastructure to build on too – again, something easy to take for granted or write off as facile if you’re in a major hub city, but a lifeline if you’re out in the gammon-infested sticks. I already knew this thanks to my wife being a founder of the Big Fish Little Fish family rave organisation, and getting to see the joy it brings to relatively socially isolated parents, but seeing the same vibe connections seeping into genteel school fetes and pub gardens has been an eye-opener.

That linkage into subculture in turn links into a different sort of urban regeneration: the DIY venue. Last year, not that long after I’d made contact with the Bournemouth record fair crews, I got invited to write about the music scene in Tyneside and was bowled over by the sense of an area relatively overlooked by arts funding and the culture industry determined to build its own infrastructure. Venues like Cobalt, Star & Shadow, The Lubber Fiend and World Headquarters are created and maintained not just for their own scenes but with a sense of adding to the fabric of the city. Again, as with the Preston story, something that stood out was the "odd blend of hard-left politics and entrepreneurialism" that comes when communities pull together.

My weekend in the Northeast made me think again about other spaces I’ve attended, been in touch with or heard friends enthuse about. Sheffield’s Hope Works, a proper down and dirty techno dive that every year blossoms into the No Bounds arts festival across the city. Rye Wax in Peckham, the record-store-café-venue that’s been in suspended animation since Covid lockdown but is about to be reborn with an Arts Council funded youth mentorship programme in tow. Futtle brewery in Fife. Spit And Sawdust skate art cafe bar in Cardiff. Partisan, The Carlton Club and White Hotel in Manchester. The Golden Lion, Todmorden. The Cellar Arts Club in Worthing. Sneaky Pete’s in Edinburgh. Future Yard in Birkenhead. Club Uniquity in Somerleyton, Suffolk. Café Indie in Scunthorpe...

There are dozens more besides, crucially each with its own approach and character, a million miles from the sanitised O2 / Carling / Live Nation owned £7 plastic-glass-of-rat’s-piss monoculture that has taken hold of venues and festivals in this country. Some are built around dance music, but many around indie rock or noise/experimental music, or LGBTQ+ scenes, or all of the above. Often there’s radical politics behind them, but just as often you’ll find a hodge-podge: as in Hatherley’s “craft beer social democracy”, necessity makes for interesting alliances, and hard left and woolly libs, idealists and bootstrap entrepreneurs, rigorous ethical frameworks and widepersons of the blag economy, will rub along together.

But whatever their individual slant, they tend, crucially to have deep roots in some kind of subcultural history. At the time of writing I’m preparing to head up to Bristol to chair panel discussions at the Black Gold Vinyl Fair at Lost Horizon HQ. This gig/rave venue, cafe, gallery, marketplace and VR studio (!) is run by the team behind Shangri La – the successor to Lost Vagueness as Glastonbury Festival’s “naughty corner” – with an ethos eyeballs-deep in mischievous hippie/anarchist-leaning squatter history, but also the organisational nous that it takes to be part of the 21st century double-fenced Glastonbury megalopolis. That sense of subcultural history – folk culture, even – has been brought brightly to life just recently by the celebrations of what would have been the late, great Andrew Weatherall’s 60th birthday. They may have begun in superclub fabric, but they progressed through smaller venues in Belfast and Glasgow to close with a weekender in the strange, storied Golden Lion in Todmorden.

All of this – the food fairs, the vinyl and beer all dayers, the record shops with charcuterie, the little rave dives with coffee machines and yoga classes in the daytime, all of it – is sorely needed. The triple whammy of Brexit, Covid and the Cozzy Lizzy (as we must now call the economic collapse) have hit the music industry very, very hard, and gigs and festivals worst of all. Even international acts are finding it hard to tour and will do for the foreseeable future, which is going to be career ending for some – and for many of the tens of thousands of people who prop up the infrastructure. It’s hard to overstate the damage, but there are at least crumbs of comfort for young acts, local scenes and little venues held together with gaffer tape and deranged strength of will.

And our towns and cities need them, too. It’s been wild seeing the conspiratarians and antiwokers turn on the 15 Minute City as the latest target for spittle flecked ranting. But hopefully, maybe this can be a galvanising force for all the rest of us to remember that actually, yes, our neighbourhoods can be better. The craft beer and food court aspects may have got a bad rep as being bougie or gentrifying, but that is a misunderstanding and ultimately snobbery. Thankfully the subculture parts – whether it’s punk, rave, balearic, queer scenes or whatever – do still manage cut across class and other social boundaries. And ultimately, given the right welcoming atmosphere, having a drink or a cake and listening to tunes is pretty inclusive as activities go.

Oddly enough, there isn’t really any map to this territory, there’s no guidebook to where to find the truly independent happenings. Perhaps that’s because those big brand sponsored faux-popups, box parks and gentrifier vanguard food courts with their PR budgets suck up all the air of publicity, perhaps it’s because the indie spaces are too cranky, too individual, too busy just staying afloat to link up into a movement. They need each of us to seek them out.

We don’t really have a flagship community space in this bit of the south coast just yet – at least I don’t think we do: I’d love to be surprised and proved wrong. My exploration of our nearby cities has been cursory until recently, having had social life limited first by young children, then by two years of Covid disruption. Only now, with my kids hurtling into their teens, am I really finding my feet socially and musically. But between a few ramshackle bars and shiny breweries and those fun afternoons rifling through tunes and eating fancy cookies, I am finding a few glimmers of hope. And in these shittest of times hope is, of course, the most precious commodity of all.

[mademoiselle-red]

so I was watching this TikTok about how everything is more affordable when you don’t live alone, since you can share stuff like rent (and you can afford a bigger space too!) and groceries and help each other out with chores and errands (assuming equal division of labor) so you all end up with more time and money at the end of the day, and you have people to share food and activities and things with so life is also more fun.

And I was thinking about Ralph in chapter 16 when he went back to his empty room after beating up Bunny, looking around that undecorated and unloved room and just feeling despair at the fact that his attempts to live with someone else never work out, and finding himself unable to face the idea of spending the rest of his life like this. Because one of two things need to happen for him to get out of this: a partner or a lot of money. A partner so he can move into a proper home, or make it far enough in his career to afford a proper home of his own.

Right now the later had been blown to pieces along with his fingers, they’ve sent him back to training, and he is so tired, too tired to climb that ladder all over again. It took 7 years to get to where he is in the merchant navy hierarchy and now he has to learn and climb whatever career ladder awaits a radar operator, if there even is one.

And the former, a partner to share his life with. He tried it with Alec, who is the most reasonable person he knows, but it didn’t work out. Their personalities clashed too much. Alec wanted to avoid claustrophobia, while Ralph wanted to huddle closer for comfort. With Bunny, they clashed on everything: from how to decorate the home to what kind of relationship they could have. They both found each other insufferably smug and stuck-up in their different ways. And with Laurie, he tried to compromise, he really did, but Laurie wouldn’t meet him in the middle. And Laurie wants to rent a room alone in the countryside and get occasional visits from that boy of his. Laurie doesn’t want to share a home, a life with Ralph. And Laurie thinks he is just as fickle and cruel as Bunny. “Maybe that’s why I can’t hold down a relationship. Maybe my parents were right. Maybe Jeepers was right. Maybe they were right all along —there’s no place for me because something is wrong with me.” Maybe he had been planning to end it all at 19, until Spud came along and told him there was nothing wrong with him. Maybe he half-believed it as he rode the train down to Southampton, and decided he’d try making something of his life still, because one person told him it was worth it. And now that one person looked at what he’s made of himself over the past seven years and decided that no, there was something wrong with him after all.

And the thing is, the way Ralph had been living for the past few years before Laurie showed up is really no different from the near-term life Laurie dreamed up for himself in the EMS hospital: renting a room out of someone else’s house, getting frequent visits from a special friend who would never stay long. The only difference being that Ralph’s special friend would have sex with him while Laurie’s special friend would just sit and talk about his moral crisis.

Anyways, I remember how in the early months of the pandemic, when I was still living in Berlin, renting a room in a flat with two roommates who were a couple, it was really miserable for me because I had no other space to be in aside from my own room and the tiny kitchen, which was communal. The living room was their second room. And later that summer, a friend sublet her one-room unit in a university dorm to me, and it was a little better, since I had total privacy, but I was still isolated to my room. When I finally accepted my mother’s invitation to move back into her home in the US at the end of summer, the thing that struck me the most was the house: so many rooms! a full size kitchen! So much countertop space! And someone who cooks for me! And space in the garden for a table and chairs! So many places to lounge around in! I don’t have to drink my coffee in my room anymore! And I can just grab a mug without thinking. It’s all mine, ours. Mind you, I was raised in this house but it felt like I was visiting wonderland for the first time 😂

Like, I totally get Ralph’s happiness the morning after the wedding. It’s not just having sex with Laurie and knowing that he is loved in return. It is being able to wake up in that wonderfully homely house feeling cherished and knowing that everything in this place is dear to Laurie, well looked after, and long loved, and now that includes him.

[101flavoursofweird]

For the Hurt/Comfort Dialogue prompts, maybe 8 or 25 (or both if you want to) for Laydore?

Thank you for the prompt! I don’t know how this became a rewrite of the LMJ anime, where Henry and Randall rescue Hershel and Luke earlier… but there you go. There are more Laydore moments later in the fic, I promise. I’m just incapable of writing a short AU.

Title: How to Save a Layton

Set: After the flashback scenes from the LMJ anime. I don’t entirely understand what happened with the Relic Stones plotline either but it doesn’t matter— Henry and Randall get there nine years earlier to rescue Layton and Luke from a cathedral cult. That’s all you need to know.

Spoilers: For Miracle Mask and the LMJ anime.

Inspiration: The song for Miracle Mask— How to Save a Life by the Fray.

Warnings: A swordfight and a little bit of blood but it’s not focussed on… and a cathedral, and hospitals… and Randall gets one swear, as treat.

“Hey! Are you… Randall Ascot? And Henry Ledore— from Monte d’Or?”

When the purple-haired woman recognised them, Randall almost preened himself. “That’s us!” Randall confirmed, flashing her a celebrity smile. “Can we help you with something, Miss…?”

Henry, saddled with their bags from the ship, was not so sociable.

He frowned as the young woman faltered at Randall’s query. Had she really forgotten her own name?Amnesia was not an impossible scenario, of course, but he and Randall had to be cautious.

If anything happened to Randall… 

Mrs. Ascot might never recover. She couldn’t mourn Randall a second time. 

Angela’s heart would be irreparably broken. She couldn’t lose another loved one.

Alfendi and Katrielle would grow up not just without their father, but without their favourite uncle.

Henry would not let that happen.

He stared at the woman. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, but something about her seemed older. Her dark blue eyes were shaded, and her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail— for work, perhaps…

But what kind of work required an ominous  purple robe with a hood? It was a little early for Halloween costumes… 

In Monte d’Or, the performers dressed up all year round for the parade, but there was no sign of such festivities here in Southampton.

Or, maybe Henry was just being cynical.

He had thought he was getting better— learning to trust others— in the years following Randall’s return… until Hershel went and Luke went missing.

Hershel had never been the most forthcoming person (much like Henry), but there was no way he would purposefully cut all contact with his family for two years.

Even after what happened in Stansbury, Hershel had still responded to Angela’s letter about the Masked Gentleman, rushing to Monte d’Or to help her. 

For their latest investigation, Hershel and Luke had been collecting these Relic stones (Azran relics, Randall insisted), which had eventually led them to the Lestagiana Cave.

Henry and Randall had scoured said-cave from top to bottom. They had prepared themselves for the worst, but mercifully they hadn’t found any bodies. (Henry would have felt it in his bones if they weredead.)

No— Hershel and Luke must have left the cave, freely or otherwise. The pair hadn’t informed anyone of their next destination.

Their case had gone cold… until Flora uncovered a new clue at the British Library— pointing to a cathedral in Southampton.

Faster than you could say, ‘No risk, no glory!’, Henry and Randall had caught a ship to the city. 

At the dock, they had been approached by the Mysterious Woman, and she had dragged them behind some wooden crates.

“I’m— Marina,” she finally answered, in a whisper. She paused for a moment, as if she was expecting some reaction from them.

“Right….” Randall nodded uncertainly. “Nice to meet you, Mari—“

“Shhhh!” Marina hissed, sweat beading on her face. She seemed to shrink in on herself, the robe pooling around her like purple sludge.

She poked her head out from behind the crates, glancing around the dock, before she looked back at them desperately. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“I have the worst memory,” Randall said sheepishly.

Henry didn’t have that excuse. He peered at Marina again, trying to pinpoint if he had ever seen her face. 

Something about her was familiar… 

Marina took another check around the dock, before she drew in a breath, straightened up and revealed softly, “I’m Luke’s wife. I was—“

“Really?” Randall hummed. “Hershel never mentioned Luke got hitched… Why weren’t we invited to the wedding?”

“I don’t know…” Marina huffed. “Maybe ‘cause you hung Luke off a high wire when he was twelve?”

“I beg your pardon?” Randall gasped, highly offended.

The jab had worked in Marina’s favour, though. Only a select few knew about Randall’s identity as the Masked Gentleman— Henry had made sure of it.

Henry gripped Randall’s arm. “I think she’s telling the truth,” Henry murmured. “Let’s hear what she has to say at the very least.”

Marina smiled at him with palpable relief. “Thank you!”

-

Marina Triton claimed that, two years ago, she had been captured by what was practically a cult in the local cathedral.

Hershel and Luke had surrendered to the cult in exchange for her life. Since then, both had been trapped beneath the cathedral, 

Somehow, Marina had escaped, but she was currently at a sort of stalemate with the cult. She hadn’t gone to the police— who could very well be in cahoots with the cult— for fear they would kill Hershel and Luke.

“But now you’re here,” she told Henry and Randall, “and we can save them!” 

Her story still raised several doubts:

How had she escaped? Were the cult members really so incompetent— or so unconcerned— that they would let her run around town? 

Why hadn’t Marina attempted to reach out for help before now?

Henry couldn’t blindly trust her, but he wanted to believe her. That something he found so familiar was a resemblance to himself, he realised. 

Luke and Hershel had set out to investigate an Azran relic and never returned. Marina was searching— fighting— ceaselessly for a way to bring them home, when the odds seemed stacked against her.

Then, Henry and Randall had come along, providing the opportunity she needed. Rather than shun them (as Henry had done to Hershel), Marina had extended her hand to them. 

With no other leads, they agreed to accompany her… but not unarmed.

“I… I can’t use a sword,” Marina stammered as Randall passed her a spare épée. 

“Maybe not, but you could still stab people,” Randall said brightly. “And if you are planning to double cross us at any point, don’t bother trying to stab me— Henry’s always got my back.”

In truth, Henry probably wasn’t much better than Marina. He and Angela had taken fencing lessons, at Randall’s behest, but Angela had picked it up faster than Henry.

Henry wasn’t sure if he could intentionally attack someone with a blade… but he would defend Randall until his dying breath, and he would do whatever he could for Hershel and Luke.

Marina agreed, hid the sword in her robe, and stared leading them to Cranscoll Cathedral.

The road to the cathedral was well worn and the surrounding land was barren.

As they walked, Randall wondered if they should disguise themselves at farmers, but Marina said there was no point— the cult most likely knew they were coming.

“How are we going to free Hershel and Luke from right under their noses?” Henry asked in a low voice.

“Between the three of us, we’ll be unstoppable,” Randall boasted loudly, “as long as no one betrays us!”

Marina frowned at him. Randall winked.

At the end of the road, Cranscoll Cathedral loomed before them. Its towers and steeples seemed to hold up the grey sky.

The cathedral was nowhere near as large or as sprawling as the Akbadain ruins… but still. Where would they supposed to start searching for Hershel and Luke? 

Marina snuck them through the front building (the ‘façade’, she called it) and through a courtyard with a garden, enclosed by stone walls on all four sides. 

Henry frowned; if they needed to flee and the entrance was cut off, they would be in trouble.

Henry would willingly give Randall and Marina a boost over the wall, but he knew Randall wouldn’t abandon him…

While Henry steeped in worry, Randall was more fascinated by the fountain in the centre of the courtyard. He had dropped his épée and knelt down to investigate. Henry guarded him from behind.

“W-what are you doing?” Marina sputtered as Randall poked at a brick at the base of the fountain.

“Looks like old Hersh left us a puzzle,” Randall chuckled. He pointed down at the stone tiles.

Henry’s eyes widened as he noticed; there were grooves between the tiles, rather like in the mummy chambers of Akbadain. 

Hershel couldn’t have predicted Randall would be the one to rescue him, could he? 

It wasn’t that they had drifted apart, but Hershel had definitely become… busier since he adopted Katrielle, on top of Alfendi.

The trip from London to Monte d’Or was at least six hours, and there were other people Hershel could depend on— Flora, Emmy, his brother…

“This might buy us some time if we’re cornered,” Randall breathed. He pulled the brick away and picked his sword up as a stream of water shot out. 

Henry and Marina followed him as he sprinted to the end of the courtyard. By that point, the water had filled all of the grooves. Titling his head, Henry realised that they had formed the outline of a top hat.

No doubt about it— Hershel really was here!

Water kept flooding the courtyard. Hopefully, that would impede anyone behind them.

“Come on!” Randall cried. He stormed up to the inner-cathedral and kicked open the doors. Henry and Marina ran after him.

Inside were chandeliers, rows of pews, and  a golden alter… where an old priest in flowing white robes awaited them.

“We’re here for Professor Layton and Luke Triton,” Randall demanded without preamble. Henry cringed. (He would have opened with a little more tact!) 

“I’m terribly sorry,” the priest said, twiddling his thumbs, “but I’m not sure who—“

“Bullshit.” Randall aimed his sword in the man’s direction. “Release them, right now, or I’ll rip this place apart.”

The priests’s face darkened. “We still have need of the professor and his assistant,” he said slowly. “But you three will become mulch for the garden—“

“You mean the swimming pool outside?” Randall quipped.

The priest barked, “Get them!”

Two… four… six cult members— each wielding swords of their own— suddenly appeared. Henry raised his sword. He stood back to back with Randall and Marina as they were surrounded. 

“W-Wait!” Marina cried, throwing her empty hands up. “I brought them here, so you could— coulddispose of them—!”

“Saw this coming,” Randall muttered.

“P-please— I don’t want to die!” Marina sobbed, shaking like a leaf. Henry scowled at her.

Some of the cult members glanced at each other. One— who sounded like a young man— called, “Sir? We could keep her around— she’s good at cleaning!” 

“We’ll need someone to fix the garden,” another grumbled.

“Very well,” the priest agreed impatiently. He flicked his hand at Marina. “Get out. Start working on that garden.”

“Y-yes, Sir!” Marina gasped. “Thank you!”

Two of the cult members stepped aside, allowing her to escape. Marina bolted out of the building without a backwards glance at Henry and Randall.

Randall clicked his tongue and shook his head. He addressed the priest again. “Did you brainwash these people or something?”

“We are all here to serve a noble cause,” the priest stated, “except for you—“

“What cause would that be, exactly?” Randall asked, mimicking the priest’s lofty tone of voice. Henry couldn’t help smiling. 

The priest snarled, “That’s none of your concern—“

“It is when it concerns Azran relics,” Randall bragged, buying them time. “I happen to be one of the world’s leading experts! Who do you think discovered the treasure of Akbadain?”

“Wasn’t that Hershel Layton?” one cult member pointed out. 

“No, it was me!” Randall insisted.

Technically, Hershel was the first, Henry thought. And I was responsible for removing the treasure…

The priest snapped, “I don’t give a damn—!”

“Blasphemy!” Randall gasped. 

“Just kill them already!”

At the priest’s command, the cultists surged at Randall and Henry with their swords.

Randall parried three of them with ease. Henry had a harder time; he countered one attacker, but had to dodge another two. He grunted with pain as a sword grazed his lower leg.

“Watch out, Henry!” Randall called. Randall spun around and they traded opponents. One cultist screamed as Randall slashed his chest.

Henry winced. He could feel his leg bleeding, but he stood his ground, keeping the cultists at bay. 

He didn’t know how long they could keep this up… 

There was a startled yell from the alter. “S-stop!” the priest said in a strangled voice.

The cult members froze. Randall lunged towards the three closest to him. They leapt back, letting go of their swords. The trio nearest Henry did the same.

Henry and Randall grabbed all of the swords, before turning to the alter. 

Marina had crept back in, perhaps through a side entrance. Currently, she had her own sword pressed against the priest’s neck.

He spluttered to his minions, “Don’t just stand there—“

“T-take us to Luke and the professor!” Marina ordered.

Randall looked around at the cult members. “You heard her, lads!”

They had done it… 

Henry sighed with relief and swayed on the spot.

“Whoa— Henry! Don’t die on us now!”

“It’s just a scratch, Randall…” 

Marina kept restraining the priest as the cultists unearthed a secret staircase in front of the alter.

Randall— being the strongest— then traded places with Marina. He dragged the priest down the stairs at sword-point. Marina and Henry went after them.

Hidden below the cathedral was what Henry could only describe as a tomb. 

By all outward appearances, the tomb appeared primitive, but within… there was technology that far surpassed human imagination.

Glowing blue veins (very Azran-y) lined the walls and the floor. There where two pods at either end of the tomb…

And inside the pods were two figures, seemingly alive but frozen in sleep. 

“We’ve found them,” Randall choked out. 

-

After forcing the priest to open the pods, they contacted the police and the paramedics.

The cultists were all arrested, while their comatose friends were rushed to the nearest hospital.

Henry, Randall and Marina also rode in the ambulance. One of the paramedics bandaged Henry’s injured leg.

He and the other two refused to leave Hershel and Lukes’ sides— right up until they reached their hospital rooms.

Marina went with Luke. Henry and Randall went with Hershel.

As Randall tried to explain to the doctors what on Earth Hershel had been through, Henry sat at Hershel’s bedside.

A nurse had removed Hershel’s top hat and placed it on a small table next to the bed.

In all these years, Henry had never seen the adult Hershel without his hat. (Randall had come close to stealing the hat on several occasions, but Hershel was always too quick for him.)

Obviously, Hershel treasured this hat, just like Angela with her necklace and Henry with his toy robot.

Where had the hat come from? Henry had never thought to ask, and now he might never get the chance. 

Henry watched Hershel like a hawk as the heart monitor slowly beeped in the background. It proved Hershel was alive, but Henry still couldn’t hear or see him breathing. 

Hershel was as still as the statues left by one of the Masked Gentleman’s dark miracles. 

Henry glanced up as Randall re-joined them.

“The doctors have never seen anything like… this….” Randall gestured to Hershel. “Azran cryogenics…? Hershel said they found the Azran emissary frozen in ice years ago, but she was… different.” Randall shook his head with frustration. “Argh! Who knows what kind of— of lasting effects that technology could have on humans!”

“I know it’s frightening,” Henry murmured, “but at least they’re here now.”

“You’re right…” Randall sighed. “Sorry— I’m just— not used to this… this…”

“Waiting?” Henry supplied, with the ghost of a smile. 

Randall nodded. The two of them were quiet for a few moments, observing Hershel.

When the silence became too much, Randall declared, “I should… go call Hershel’s kids— and Angela. She’s probably worried sick! And Luke’s parents— Marina probably knows their number, right?”

Henry shrugged. “Probably?”

“Let me know immediately if Hersh wakes up, okay?” Randall said. 

Randall grabbed Hershel’s hand from under the bed covers. “Do you hear me, Hershel Layton? I want to know as soon as you wake up!” He squeezed Hershel’s hand before he tore out of the room to find a telephone.

Henry sighed. Angela would be overjoyed to learn of the rescue, but doubtless, she would have a lecture for Randall about the risks they had taken. (It was worth it, for Hershel and Luke.)

The Layton family would rush to the hospital as soon as they heard the news. It would still be upsetting, seeing Hershel and Luke in this state… 

Flora and Alfendi could handle it, but maybe they shouldn’t let Kat in this room until Hershel showed signs of recovery—?

The beeping increased slightly. Henry’s eyes widened as he heard a faint breath.

“Luke…?” Hershel mumbled. He had been lying on his back, but he turned over in bed. He blinked his eyes open. 

Squinting at Henry, he struggled to sit up. “Henry—?”

“Hershel!” Henry cried, beaming like a fool. He didn’t hug Hershel, as Randall would have done, but he settled for grasping Hershel’s shoulder. “Luke is safe— you’re both safe now, I promise!”

“What happened?” Hershel croaked. “How… long has it been?”

“You’ve been missing for two years,” Henry revealed gently. 

“What about Kat? Alfendi and Flora? How are they?”

“They’re all fine. They’re still in London, but they’ll be here soon. Randall went to call them.”

“Thank you…” Hershel breathed. He lifted his hand to his bare head. “Ah…”

“Your hat!” Henry stumbled to the beside table. 

“Your leg…” Hershel pointed at Henry’s bandages. 

“It’s nothing— here!” Henry handed him the hat.

“Thanks!” Hershel repeated, with newfound energy. He returned the hat to his head. (All at once, everything felt right with the world again.)

“I’m going to ask you how you are now,” Henry said, reassuming his seat, “and I would like you to answer me honestly, please.”

“Honestly?” Hershel sighed. “This all feels like déjà vu…”

“Tell me about it…” Henry chuckled. “I’m just glad you weren’t missing for eighteen years!”

Hershel smiled at him, though he looked uncertain. “I did wonder… if you would find us— you and Randall, I mean.”

“We…” Henry hesitated, swallowing. “I owed you that much, after everything you’ve done for us.” He gave Hershel’s shoulder an awkward pat— an apology, an acknowledgement, and affection, all rolled into one.

Henry sighed. “I’m only sorry we didn’t get there sooner—“

The hospital door flew open. “Hen!” Randall hollered. “Henry— Luke’s awake!” 

When he saw Hershel, Randall froze. 

A frantic Luke Triton shoved past him. “Professor…!”

“Hey—“ Randall protested. “Get in line, Luke!”

Marina appeared in the doorway. She giggled as Randall and Luke threw themselves at Hershel’s bed. 

Henry was content to hover at the side of the bed, until Randall pulled him into the hug too.

“Please,” Henry wheezed, as his face was squashed into the crook of Hershel’s neck. “No more disappearances from now on?”

Hershel huffed out a laugh. “Agreed!”