#The Roark love has been so great as of late!

[giggly-squiggily]

Okay- there is zero pressure to write for this, I’m sure you have a ton of event submissions and I hope I’m not flooding your inbox with Roark content, but I just wanted to share the idea of his glasses doing the anime thingy where they get all glossy-you know what I’m talking about I hope-right before he jumps somebody and attacks them with tickles! I saw a picture of that somewhere online with him and just. Have not been able to stop thinking about it! Once again, this is just a fun headcannon i wanted to share, no pressure to add it to the list and I apologize if I’m blowing up your inbox (whoops) I promise I’m not trying to be annoying! I’m just very excited! Anyway, keep up the amazing work and as always, thank you!!! -⚡️

Headcanons To Dabbles: Officially CLOSED!

*squee!!!* Oh my goodness that's AMAZING! I love the mental image of Roark getting all mirror lenses akljerjakrjjaekrkj I gotcha covered, friend! Decided to go with Volkner for this last Roark one because I miss my electro boy.

“Oi, Roark. You remembered (Y/N)’s birthday?”

The redhead froze, halfway out of his expedition gear. He turned to look at Volkner, starting to sweat. “Oh dear Arceus, it’s TODAY? I thought it was in another week- oh no their present isn’t ready yet-”

“Roark, I was lying.” Volkner cut him off, making him stumble in his panic. “It is next week.”

The redhead stared, betrayed. “Why…?”

“You’ve been rambling on about rocks for the past 20 minutes.” Volkner's lips twitched. “I was starting to wonder if your brain fossilized.”

“Oh ha ha.” Roark puffed, glasses gleaming over as Volker chuckled in his hand. “Very funny.”

“Heh, yeah…why are you looking at me like that?” Volkner leaned back some when the glare Roark was sending him didn’t yield.

Silence, and then-

“Whoa!” Volkner yelped as he was shoved backwards, Roark tackling him into the grass. “Whoa, hang on there- what are you do-ohohohohohohoing!” Giggles bubbled over almost instantly as the redhead’s hands found his waist, kneading just below his ribs. “Rohoohohoahahhark!”

“First you trick me into thinking I forgot (Y/N)’s birthday, and THEN you call me dumb!” Roark moved up to Volkner’s center ribs, earning a proper bout of laughter from the soft spoken gym leader. “You must die! Prepare to get tickle-stoned!”

“Gehahhahahahhahha! I’m shahahhahaharry! I’m shahahhahahahhahahrry!” Volkner tried to grab his hands, but Roark was surprisingly quick. The best he could do was cling to his wrists. “Cuhuuhuuht it ohohooohoohut!”

“Are you REALLY sorry?” Roark asked, raising a brow.

“Yehahahahhahhahs!”

“TRULY sorry?”

“YEhehahhahahahs, yehehahahahahs I’m shahahhahahahharry!” Volkner’ cheeks were a pretty pink shade, eyes squeezed shut with mirth and feet kicking behind them.

“.....Truly?”

“ROAHHAHAHAHHARK!!”

“Pfft- okay, okay!” Roark snickered, finally releasing the other and climbing off him. “That’ll teach you to trick me, Mr. Rain cloud!”

“Eheh…ehehehe…Mr. Rahaiain Cloud? Oh that is IT? Come here!” Volkner shot up suddenly, grabbing Roark and pulling him down beside him. “You’re asking for it back now!”

The sound of Roark’s laughter was quick to replace Volkner’s.

[mooropitant399]

have you played any Pokemon games outside of gen 3 (Hoenn)? Do you ship leaders from other regions with eachother?

Omg an ask I love this!! Okay so right now I am currently only playing Pokémon masters - I think I’ve kind of grown out of the habit of playing console games, but I keep up with the basic lore of most of the mainline games. I’ve played gen 1, 2, 3, 4 , 6 and a little bit of 9 (scarlet basically) but I couldn’t finish it because my heart just wasn’t really into the gameplay mechanics anymore.

Which is why I absolutely adore Pokémon masters bc the graphics are sooo good and the storylines are great!! And as a writer at heart I love lore and character building the most.

I am the most fond of hoenn, just because it’s the first gen that I played, but I think each gen is great in their own right (I did find the gimmick thing that happened gen 6 onwards a bit lame).

But as for headcanons - I actually have thought about Steven and Cynthia’s relationship very much because I wholeheartedly believe they are both good people, just extremely unhealthy together.

Cynthia is extremely bad at communication and her first priority has always been her career as an archaeologist and now Champion. She deals much better with Pokémon than she does with humans. Steven is also at the stage of his life where he’s extremely insecure and basically attaches himself and his identity to her very unhealthily, which makes Cynthia feel really pressured and uncomfortable but because she’s so terrible at setting boundaries she just lets it carry on until it’s too late. Eventually she gets very very emotionally burnt out by him and she just has to cut ties and leave at the first opportunity, which is when she gets her internship back in Sinnoh in final year. And because she sucks at communicating she just kinda ups and goes. (She’s also woefully immature at that stage of life too).

Nowadays she has a fwb situation with Professor sycamore and diantha (but separately!!) so she just hits either of them up.

I also have seen a lot of lgbt Roark floating around which I do enjoy as well!! I think he’s got a big crush on Riley :)) sees this smouldering handsome guy just in a random cave and is like ah, I’m in love. He surprisingly had a bit of a crush on Steven until Steven meets Cynthia and Roark is like ah.

Otherwise, I do love Crystal x Ethan and Silver x lyra but I think it’s because I’m a manga reader and I want silver to have a wife too :((

[jarbieprincess]

Not Veronica Mars Viewer but Have Thoughts

I have never watched one episode of VM but my sister, bestie and many other friends on Twitter watch the show so I've been talking about it and thinking about it a great deal lately.

It got me thinking. Rob Thomas believes if you get a couple together a show becomes less interesting. He point blank said it in an interview. Yeah, we've heard that how many times. The Moonlighting Curse and all that crap. What it really boils down to is poor writing, with no idea what direction to take your characters.

Take for example, Eve Dallas in the J.D. Robb In Death book series. Yes, yes, it is a book series and not a TV series but it doesn't make it any less true. Eve Dallas is one of the most remote, cold, hard heroines ever written...when the series first starts. She has pretty much just one friend, Mavis, when the first book begins. She spends her days solving murders, i.e., mysteries, but wonder of wonders, she meets the love of her life, and while it doesn't take too long to fall in love with Roarke, because come on, IT'S ROARKE, she still has the hardened outer core. Yet somehow still manages to let more people into her life, all the while still solving murders and *GASP*, wonder of wonders, manages to have a healthy love life.

After 50 books and numerous novellas, she is still interesting, she and Roarke are still a to die for couple, and she STILL SOLVES MURDERS. Even though she is married and is in love. She's a strong, fiery independent woman who can still love and still kick ass and remain totally interesting.

If an author can do this for over 50 books then why can't a TV writer manage to do this for 10 to 13 episodes?

A woman in love with a man does not suddenly become boring. YOU, the writer, make them boring because you have no idea what you are doing.

[adhdzagreus]

Agelast roark hamilton :3

Agelast - A person who never laughs.

Baby I'm in love and maybe it's starting to tellOnly thing that I can do is hold it in, hold it inI was told that I'm a man now and I'm not allowed to cryThe only thing that I can do is hold it in, hold it inHah!

Hold It In - Jukebox the Ghost 

Sterling was a palace guard. He’d been hired on as a guard some ten years ago, and he’d worked his way up through the ranks from doorman to corridor patrol. Someday, he was hoping he might even be promoted to captain.

He had two main duties, and he took pride in each of them as he considered them both important to the integrity of the palace. The first was patrolling the corridors for signs of intruders. Almost never did someone enter the palace without permission, but it was important work nonetheless because if someone did, he would surely catch them.

The second was standing guard in sensitive locations such as the throne room, the treasury, or the royal wing. This was secretly his favorite of his duties since it put him in close proximity with important people like the royal family. He was very proud to be able to tell people that he was doing his part to protect the Empire, and he enjoyed telling his friends about the workings of the castle.

In fact the only person who enjoyed a bit of palace gossip more than he did was his co-worker Amos. When standing guard, they often worked in pairs, and Amos was his most common partner. He would stand on the right side of the entry to the royal suites, and Amos would stand on the left, and the two of them would look very serious and stern to dissuade anyone from coming to bother the emperor, the empress, or the prince. The same rule applied when they were guarding the throne room.

After so many years of work, Sterling had gotten to know the royal family quite well. None of them seemed to know who he was. In their matching armor, the guards were quite interchangeable after all, but the royals were one of Sterling’s and Amos’s favorite subjects of gossip.

There was the Empress Alexandra who was always poised and elegant and planned the most opulent balls. And of course there was the Emperor Elias who was as powerful and intelligent as you would expect an emperor to be.

And then there was the Crown Prince, the sole heir to all of Hamelin. His name was Roark, and he was as serious a young man of eighteen as you could hope to find. When Sterling had first joined the palace guard, the prince had been a very serious young boy, and he had only grown into a more serious young man with time. If he weren’t so intimidating, it would’ve been almost comical how solemn the prince was. In all his years of guarding the palace, Sterling had never once seen the prince laugh.

Amos claimed to have seen him laugh once, but Sterling didn’t believe him. Amos’s imagination was known to get the better of him at times.

Despite his seriousness, or perhaps because of it, Sterling was fond of the young prince. He’d watched him grow up, like everyone else in Hamelin had, with the weight of the whole Empire on his shoulders, and he’d borne it remarkably well. Sterling had never seen such a levelheaded teenaged boy.

The prince excelled at his studies, both magical and academic, and the general consensus was that he would make a very fine emperor someday. Indeed, he seemed born for the role. He had an unusual air of gravitas about him and an impressive mastery of magic.

“Heard much about the ball last night?” Amos asked as they were standing guard outside the throne room.

“Just what I heard from the doorway. I was working a shift last night,” said Sterling. “You?”

“I had the night off, but I heard it quite an affair. Is that true?”

Sterling nodded. “It was one of the fancier balls I’d seen in a while. That’s to be expected, of course. It isn’t every day the Crown Prince comes of age.”

“Who all was there?” Amos asked with interest.

“Oh, it was a huge turn out. Feels like I saw half the kingdom come in.”

“Yeah, the rich half I’d imagine.”

“Naturally,” Sterling said. “The emperor isn’t going to let his son marry someone who can’t add anything to the royal coffers.”

Amos snorted. “You got that right.”

The two exchanged amused looks, deriving no small amount of pleasure from deriding their superiors behind their backs.

“So,” Amos said, “do you know who he spoke to?”

“Presumably he spoke to just about everyone,” Sterling replied. “But I’ll be surprised if anything came of it. He looked pretty bored going in. It’d take quite a girl to catch his eye.”

“I don’t think it’s his eyes that are the problem. It’ll be his heart. It’d take quite a woman to get through that ironclad exterior,” Amos said knowledgeably.

“You’re not wrong,” Sterling said. “There seemed to be quite a few young woman there who were more than willing to try.”

“Oh, yeah?” Amos said with interest. “Anyone in partic--?”

The two guards fell silent and stood at attention at the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor. They grew still as the owner of those footsteps came into view. It was the same young man they’d just been discussing, and Sterling felt a jolt of worry that he’d perhaps heard them, but that was quickly replaced by relief as the prince gave no sign of this.

He didn’t look annoyed in the slightest. In fact, he looked… happy, Sterling realized with shock. The guard almost didn’t recognize him without his usual sober expression. The prince was instead wearing the faintest of smiles. His eyes, usually fixed ahead, were distant and dreamy, and he was plainly lost in thought.

Neither of the guards said a word as the prince passed them by absently on the way into the throne room, but they exchanged shocked looks.

“What in the world?” murmured Sterling.

“You don’t think…?” began Amos.

The two fell silent, listening intently, as voices started up in the throne room behind them.

“There you are. You’re late.”

“Am I? My apologies, Father.”  The prince sounded honestly surprised to be late.

“Very well. Take care it doesn’t happen again.”

“Yes, Father.”

The emperor began to discuss the day’s agenda in a businesslike, matter of fact, sort of fashion. After a while, he interrupted himself to say, “Are you listening, Roark?”

Sterling would dearly have liked to have seen the prince’s face as he replied, “Of course.” The tone of his voice was not convincing.

“I only ask because your attention seems to be somewhere else this morning. Are you quite alright?”

“Yes, of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, who could say?” Sterling couldn’t be certain, but he thought the emperor sounded amused. “Perhaps we should discuss more exciting matters. Such as last night’s ball.”

“That would be… fine,” the prince said.  

“From my perspective, it went rather well. What do you think? Any potential candidates?”

The prince was silent for a moment, and Sterling and Amos instinctively leaned closer to the door to listen.

“I need your permission to court Kyoko!” the prince burst out. Beside Sterling, Amos let out a soft gasp of delight.

“Oh?” Now the emperor definitely sounded amused. “The chief engineer’s daughter?”

“Yes, Father, she was at the ball last night,” the prince said hurriedly. “You must have seen her. She has long shining black hair, and she was wearing a pale purple gown. She was the most beautiful woman there.”

“Calm down, I know who you’re talking about,” the emperor said, quite entertained. “You spent most of the evening with her.”

“Oh.” The prince sounded flustered.

“You may of course have my permission to court her. It’s a perfectly suitable match. Your mother will be pleased to hear it.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” the prince said with relief.

“I must say, I was expecting this to be more of an ordeal. You were remarkably quick to make a decision.”

“It was no decision,” the prince replied. “There was only one possible choice.” Amos let out another soft gasp, and Sterling shot him a look.

“That taken with her, are you?”

“I… I suppose,” he muttered. “This is all… very strange.” Sterling privately agreed, having never seen the prince this animated before.

The emperor laughed, clearly finding all of this extremely entertaining. “Tell you what. Let’s arrange another meeting with her.”

“I-I would like that very much.”

“Excellent. I’ll get in contact with her father. Now that that’s settled, you may go.”

There was a beat of silence, during which presumably the prince nodded, and then he exited the room, past the two guards who were struggling to contain their glee.

The prince gave no notice of this, entirely immersed in his own thoughts. He set off down the corridor at a brisk pace, almost ran into a wall, blinked at it, startled, and course-corrected.

Sterling grinned and looked at Amos who had one hand over his armorclad heart. “Our prince has fallen in love,” Amos whispered as the prince moved out of earshot.

“Who’d have thought it?” Sterling said. “Seems like only yesterday he was a quiet little kid.”

“He’s got it bad,” Amos said with delight. “Did you hear him? He said she was the most beautiful woman at the ball.”

“I heard his father say he spent most of the evening with her,” Sterling said.

“Did you see her?” Amos asked. “This Kyoko, the chief engineer’s daughter? What’s she like?”

Sterling tried to remember all of the guests from the night before. “I remember her. Pretty young woman. She seemed happy to be there, just excited, you know? She must be something to have done such a number on our prince.”

Amos nodded. “Oh, I hope she likes him. He seems smitten with her.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Sterling said. “He’s the prince, and he’s good-looking to boot.”

“Love is about more than titles and appearances,” Amos chided. “It’s a joining of hearts.”

“Yeah, but…power and good looks can’t hurt either.”

Amos tried to hold back a laugh. “I guess not.”

“I do hope this goes well for him,” said Sterling. “It’d be great to have a princess.”

“Oh, wouldn’t it?” said Amos, delighted.

“Sure would,” said Sterling. “Maybe the prince wouldn’t be so serious all the time if he had someone to laugh with him.”

“Now there’s a thought.”

[dcnativegal]

In which I change jobs and listen to the people of Lakeview

Back in August, (it’s now early March, 2019) my boss called me up in my office in Christmas Valley and asked if I’d consider moving my work to Lakeview and joining the Lake District Clinics’ staff as a therapist. I pretty much said, you bet, when do I start? It’s not that I haven’t loved the people I work with as colleagues and as clients in Christmas Valley. It’s more that I have spent most of my 30+ years as a social worker basically embedded in medical teams, working on the psychological and practical issues that come up for people who are medically ill. The prospect of going back into a busy clinic at a bustling, though tiny, hospital, excited me. And so it was that I said goodbye to my clients, and to my work buddies Hayley, Jama, and Geri, and started driving south instead of north from Paisley, in late September.

It's now been 5 months, and the metaphor I use is that we are building this airplane while flying the thing, since this is the first time this hospital has had such a role: ‘Behavioral Health Consultant.’

Behavioral Health Consultants are culturally competent* generalists who provide treatment for a wide variety of mental health, psychosocial, motivational, and medical concerns, including management of anxiety, depression, substance abuse, smoking cessation, sleep hygiene, and diabetes among others. (definition brought to you by https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Primary_Care_Behavioral_health)  

*The better term than culturally competent is ‘culturally agile’, but the idea is the same: to be agile is to establish rapport with anybody, including people from the ethnicity called “white” and the culture of “taciturn cowboy.”  

The new job has an aspiration: “Primary Care/Behavioral Health Integration” whereby “mental health” is not taken care of in some other place, complete with another building, parking lot, and stigma (because when the town’s population is 2,300, everyone knows your rig.) If a patient comes to their primary care person for high blood pressure, or a miscarriage, or very high blood sugars, and the primary care person hears that your marriage is disintegrating, or you have nightmares, or your child killed her/himself, then there’s an immediate referral to me. If I’m busy with another patient, a referral gets made electronically, a receptionist calls this person, and boom, they are on my schedule. If I’m not busy, I’m brought in to meet them right then. Perhaps this person is crying, and I sit and listen, and maybe it’s just a bad day, or a sad anniversary, and what I do is provide compassionate listening. And my card. Perhaps we start a conversation and they schedule for a longer session because they hadn’t figured on being gone from work so long. See you soon, I say.

Behavioral Health Integration is new to much of the country, and yet it makes so much sense. Mind and body are connected. The trauma someone experienced as a child contributes to both his anxiety now and his high blood pressure. Her alcoholism might be worsened by her spouse’s infidelity: however, her liver is for sure. Let’s get this addressed, mind/body/spirit. Teamwork, people.

There are two other populations I get referrals to see. The folks who are taking an addictive substance that really isn’t good for them long term: either benzodiazepines like valium, or opioids.

The second group are the frequent flyers: folks who use the emergency department a great deal. There’s a team of people who try to help them. Are they anxious? Anxiety causes a lot of emergency department visits. So does a life that is very disorganized. Who can keep track of the day of the week, let alone an appointment in a clinic? There’s a meeting of people from many disciplines who meet weekly to brainstorm about how to create a supportive, educational web of services so that this person doesn’t use the most expensive health care resource available, (the emergency department) or bounce back into the hospital because being at home wasn’t safe.

I’ve had some interesting encounters. I meet people who are so much pain that they rock back and forth while they talk to me. I hear about a family where every single member has a serious disability but only one member will come in to talk to me. I finally went out with them to meet another relative waiting in the car and basically said, Hi, I don’t bite, come in to see me sometime, okay? It took 3 months but it worked.

A child came and sat at my table, proceeding to play with my wooden robots, then the magnet marble sculpture thing, and then color a mandala. All the while, a biological parent tells the story of their predicament, and the child corrects and fills in, holding the memory of all that has happened to this family. I find myself wishing multiple times a day, “if only the adults would adult.”

Another child is having panic attacks. Perhaps the addicted parent and the chaos at home are factors? You decide.

There is a funny thing that happens as I work in the arena of mental health while in a small town, and it will keep on happening. I assess one member of a social network, which may or may not be related to one or four of my other clients. The jigsaw puzzle of the situation becomes clearer and more recognizable while I listen to the stories. I can’t reveal that I already heard that story from someone else, with significantly different plot points and antagonists. I simply make note. Later that same day, the client has become the guy or gal behind a counter: well hello! And then I see the client’s mother in town: she peered at me through narrowed eyes, told me she was glad to know who was talking to her son. Sounded like I passed muster.

pass muster

be accepted as adequate or satisfactory.

synonyms:

be  good enough, come up to standard, come up to scratch, measure  up, be acceptable/adequate, be sufficient, fill/fit the  bill, do, qualify

I met with a rather desperate patient, in chronic pain, and super pissed off about everything. That patient died unexpectedly and sadly a few days later. On the same day I learned of this death, two of my other clients came in, separately, and cried about the sudden loss of this person. Used up all of my tissues. We are part of a tightly woven web.

And I can’t talk about any of it except to clinical supervisors or my therapist. Which is fine. Thank goodness I can take notes. My brain gets very full.

I no longer have the Roarks, Hayley the amazing therapist and her husband Tom the amazing police deputy, who could give me the back story and the full list of felonies for most of North County. I exaggerate only slightly. I do get perspective at the team meetings where we talk about the frequent flyers: everyone has a piece of the patient’s history. And everyone knows everyone else, and what they did last summer. I will never have that deep knowledge of this community that natives of Lake County do. There is a chaplain who seems to have the same deep, back stories of everyone in Lakeview. The primary care providers know a great deal, too. Perhaps my fresh perspective has a benefit: at least three clients have told me they are glad I’m not from here. They have a chance, a clean slate, instead of me having assumptions based on last name, what side of town they live on, etc. And I try so hard not to judge. I sit and listen, always humbled and amazed at the stories that are shared.

I can’t share specifics, but I certainly see themes.

Let’s talk for a minute about step families. There are an awful lot of step families and second and third marriages and many times, live-in sweeties who act like step parents, all of which is very confusing to children. There are a couple of rules that I thought everyone knew, but apparently not. Such as:

·         Do not, under any circumstances, tell a child, ‘you are so much like your Mom/Dad’ if those qualities you are calling out are negative. Please, please. You are not getting back at the miscreant, who is a conniving/cheating/meth-dealing/flake. You are hurting your child. (See, self-fulfilling prophecy. See, shitty legacy.) STOP IT.

·         Grownups need to do the adulting. Children are not go-betweens. Period, end of sentence. Also, children best not play one parent against another: the only way to make sure THAT isn’t happening is to …

·         Co-parent. If your kid has left your home to live with grandma, or step-father, or aunt, whomever, guess what? You are now co-parenting with your mother or step-father or sibling. You are coordinating school meetings with teachers, immunizations, and team schedules. You are consulting with the ‘other parent’ on whether the kid gets a smart phone, or can date, and whether they need condoms. Circle the wagons and parent the kid, whatever the old painful history. For the kids’ sake.

Right?

How about grief. People feel grief about all kinds of things, and especially the loss of other people. One grief hooks up with all the other losses, and sometimes, the heart just breaks and the mind stops and the tears flow. My all-time favorite quote about grief is this one:

People, usually, the conscientious ones, have very high expectations of themselves. They will plod on, and keep it all up, until the tears overflow, and they are horrified when they cry at work. Perhaps the long-dead person was the only one who ever stood by them, which explains why the ‘little’ loss that happened just the other day flowed into this biggest loss, and they are overcome.

I do some ‘grief education’. That it comes in waves. That patience with oneself is critical, and kind: if you can’t stop crying, then you need to cry, and go ahead, take the rest of the day off. You are not a slacker, or a malingerer. You are giving your mind and aching heart a break, and that is a healthy thing to do. We talk about options like writing a letter to the one you miss, so that you can tell them what you’ve been wanting to share. Who knows, maybe they are listening. Whatever the metaphysics of the matter, they exist in your experience. In psychoanalytic terms, that’s called an “introject.”  Write freely, as if they will hear your words.

Or maybe write a song, or draw a picture, in their memory, in their honor. What would they have told you to do, if they knew they were about to leave this mortal coil? Go forth and find another lover? Get back to playing that guitar and never mind how bad it sounds at first? Go dancing. Go bowling. Have a beer, or stay sober, in my name.

And know that you cannot push through grief, there is no shortcut:

It is an alteration of self that we would not choose, and it is excruciating. We are altered without anesthetic. I’m sorry. I have been so altered.

Let’s talk about social isolation. I found this quote in the New York Times and had it made into a canvas hanging in my office: (via EasyCanvasPrints.com)

Most of the clients I see are deeply disconnected from people, especially the men. Maybe there is a wife who connects him to the rest of the family, or a mother. But no one else. He doesn’t speak to his children. He’s estranged from a sister or a brother. No cousins, lost track of them. Don’t care to reconnect. Old pain, betrayals, lots of good reasons to stay mad. Except for the loneliness.

I encourage clients to call up an old friend and say, I was thinking about you, what the heck, I thought I’d call, tell me what’s going on, if this is a good time. Once the person gets over their shock, the content of what your old co-worker/ cousin/ younger sister tells you is refreshing. At least it isn’t the same old thoughts going around like a trapped gerbil in your mind. And then you’ve strengthened an old bond. Why not? Doesn’t cost anything.

I know it feels awkward. I called up my first cousin, out of the blue, after texting her to make sure I still had the right number, and in my text, I said, could you chat? She called me right away thinking something was wrong. We hadn’t spoken on the phone since I moved to Paisley. I didn’t mean to scare her. But I didn’t do our usual calendar/Christmas thing this year, and she’s my first cousin. We’re friends on Facebook, but we don’t share the whole truth on Facebook. We were candid. Life is imperfect. And I renewed that bond with this bright, hardworking woman with whom I share DNA.

I also hand-wrote several letters to old friends. I got lovely texts or emails back saying a letter will come in reply but give them time. I’m totally fine with that. And even if nothing comes back, I sent forth a bit of love, and story, to distract them from their mind-gerbils. There was a woman at St. Stephen’s, whom I got to know when I worked as the Parish Secretary and she was a volunteer. She would send a lovely note or postcard to someone and stamp it with “GUILT FREE MAIL.” How wonderful is that. Edith Eder, you were a gift to the world. She would wait to give baby blankets to newborns, and I think she waited because she’d had a stillbirth at one time, and knew the pain of having no baby for all the cute clothes and rattles that had been gifted.

*****

Ultimately, for the anxious and depressed, I hope I can convey some information, some strategies and tricks, a wee tincture of wisdom that they can hold onto, when they hit a bad patch. I have my own therapist, in Bend, 3 hours away, whom I see once a month. I take my anti-depressant dutifully and gratefully. I approach my very own bad patches and slip and fall, like I did over thanksgiving. I try to spot the bad patches, like drivers look for black ice this time of year, but sometimes the slipping can’t be helped. And kerplunk, we are in the ditch and need a tow. Best to minimize the damage, do what needs to be done and chalk it up to ‘When Bad Things Happen to Good People’, which is the book I recommend most to clients.

There’s the awesome quotation by Anais Nin about the blossom:

I see entering into psychotherapy this way: it is a risk, because the familiar misery feels safer, at first, than the bright new possibilities of change, which are scary, but then, occasionally, breathtakingly glorious. And in any case, patience is required. With ourselves. Again, Anais Nin, who is an incest survivor by the way:

Amen

[gravitascivics]

BELIEVING WHAT ONE WANTS, PART I

[Note:  From time to time, this blog issues a set of postings that summarize what the blog has been emphasizing in its previous postings.  Of late, the blog has been looking at various obstacles civics educators face in teaching their subject.  It’s time to post a series of such summary accounts.  The advantage of such summaries is to introduce new readers to the blog and to provide a different context by which to review the blog’s various claims and arguments.  This and upcoming summary postings will be preceded by this message.]

 This blogger, before addressing the general challenges civics teachers face regarding political values and how they play out in the classroom, wishes to remind the reader what this blog’s goal is in the current set of postings.  That goal is to provide an explanation of how a natural rights political culture affects federalist aims a teacher might hold.  

So, this posting in a summary way, reviews some of the basic moral claims that a natural rights political culture promotes.  To begin, part and parcel of a dominant political view is to identify what it holds to be moral when it comes to political calculations.  This is especially important when the issues at hand are not so easily discerned as to what people should do on a moral basis. Those types of concerns pop up all the time and not just politicians or elected officials need to address them, but the average citizen needs to do so as well.

         And when it comes to the typical situations that Americans face, two political values tend to be paramount in such calculations.  That is the values of liberty and equality.  It seems that these two concerns come to the fore most often among the array of issues that policy makers consider.  And usually a good deal of contention characterizes those deliberations.

For example, policies over welfare or health care illustrate the point.  People who support government involvement tend to cite equality as their relevant concern; while those who oppose government action look to liberty to bolster their claims.  And one can divide these fights, to some degree, between those who hold natural rights positions – as in everyone is responsible for his/her own fate – and those who hold onto more communal responses that seem to count on federalist values – as in “we’re all in this together.”

Natural rights’ rationales advocate against communal responses especially, if by communal, one means government action – along with its coercive abilities.  After all, government can put people in jail.  They support their contentions with the belief that counts on people being responsible for their own fates and any reliance on government, among other negative consequences, undermines people meeting their responsibilities.  

Another important example in which natural rights advocates repeatedly express their concerns is over government regulations of businesses.  They generally argue that such government interference only hurts economic growth and, therefore, hurts everyone.  This is claimed despite evidence to the contrary assuming regulations are within reasonable boundaries.[1]

On an emotional-moral level, what advocates seem to stress is the near sanctity of the individual.  It is he/she whose sense of worth motivates him/her to accomplish good or even great things.  One is reminded of the novel or movie, The Fountainhead,[2] originally written by Ayn Rand.  In that story, the main character, Howard Roark, is brought to trial for dynamiting a building project that he designed as its architect.  This designing was done surreptitiously, and the project went astray from his design. At trial, in his only statement of defense, he states he was deprived of his agreed upon basis for doing the project – that his design not be changed.

In his speech he gives probably the most cogent rationale for the natural rights view.  Here is a taste of that testimony:

The basic need of the second-hander is to secure his ties with men in order to be fed.  He places relations first.  He declares that man exists in order to serve others.  He preaches altruism.

         Altruism is the doctrine which demands that man live for others and place others above self.

No man can live for another.  He cannot share his spirit just as he cannot share his body.  But the second-hander has used altruism as a weapon of exploitation and versed the base of mankind’s moral principles.  Men have taught every precept that destroys the creator.  Men have been taught dependence as a virtue.

The man who attempts to live for others is a dependent.  He is a parasite in motive and makes parasites of those he serves.  The relationship produces nothing but mutual corruption. It is impossible in concept.  The nearest approach to it in reality – the man who lives to serve others – is the slave.  If physical slavery is repulsive, how much more repulsive is the concept of servility of the spirit?  The conquered slave has a vestige of honor.  He has the merit of having resisted and of considering his condition evil. But the man who enslaves himself voluntarily in the name of love is the basest of creatures.  He degrades the dignity of man and he degrades the conception of love.  But this is essence of altruism.[3]

But as for this view as an overall bias, the point to draw is that it holds a particular sense of liberty or, as it is called, natural liberty.  Succinctly, that form of liberty holds that people has the right to determine one’s values and beliefs and to be able to behave accordingly (short of interfering with others to do likewise).  A “true believer” of this construct holds natural liberty as his/her ultimate or trump value.  Or stated another way, for him/her, he/she could claim:  “Give me liberty or give me death.”  

[1]See Abhijit V. Banerjee and Esther Duflo, Good Economics for Hard Times (New York, NY:  Public Affairs, 2019).

[2] Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead (Indianapolis, IN:  Bobbs-Merrill, 1943) AND King Vidor (director), The Fountainhead (the film), Warner Brothers, 1949.

[3] “Howard Roark’s Courtroom Speech,” Work the System, n.d., accessed September 29, 2020, https://www.workthesystem.com/getting-it/howard-roarks-courtroom-speech/ .

[ael-xander]

Ti'taris Awakening Chapter One “I can’t miss it! I can’t. Just can’t!” The woman raced to unlock the door. Hearing the click, she opened the door, slamming it shut behind her while grabbing the remote on the table by the door. Clicking a button, the large flat screen television flared to life. Tossing her briefcase, Lysse kicked off her shoes followed by vaulting over the back of her sofa, until she landed on it. Music reached her ears as an opening sequence of an animated character fought against evil incarnate. Sighing, the young woman reclined against the sofa. “Made it, just in time. Today’s episode is the climax in the battle between Namorian and Ephram. Go Ram!” Sucked into the storyline, Lysse spent the next hour living the classic battle of good versus evil. Throughout the show, she spoke encouragement, made comments, and reacted to the twists and turns in the episode. As the show came to the ending, Lysse gasped. “You can’t leave it like that! Oh hell, I’m going to have to take a day off of work next week! No fucking way." The credits played, reminding Lysse that she left a mess upon her arrival. Shaking her head, she picked up her shoes and put them in the nearby closet and moved her briefcase to her home office. She hesitated a moment, her eyes glancing at the computer, but decided it was better to not even be tempted. There wouldn’t be a hint of the next episode for at least another couple of hours. With a rueful sigh, Lysse went to her bedroom and changed her clothes. What was it about Ti’taris Awakening that seemed to call to her soul? It was just a cartoon, but there was something more than that. The setting was outstanding, so real, but at the same time, there was something about the lead character, Ephram. His voice was pure rough silk and brandy; his looks were pure bad boy with a hint of platinum. She knew the voice actor, Devlin Roarke, and though he was handsome, his natural voice wasn’t the same as he did for Ephram. The joys of working in the media industry were she got to meet the people who did the voice work for many cartoons, commercials, and such. When she heard the concept behind Ti’taris Awakening, Lysse had been simply amazed and negotiated its serial in the US. The company she worked with had taken her advice to heart and now they were reaping the rewards of the merchandising as well as the children and adults watching the program religiously. Even she couldn’t help but be pulled into the world of Ti’taris. Having read the background and the character bios, Lysse found herself almost seeing the world as she worked and lived helping the show to become its own reality. For a while, she put it down as preproduction jitters, but now, now she was completely and utterly hooked. Lysse busied herself, making her meal, poring over her work on a couple of contracts dealing with two upcoming films, one of which dealt with a live action version of Ti’taris Awakening. She chuckled remembering hearing Jacob Stevenson saying, “Tit ahris” for the name instead of “Tee tahris.” Correcting him hadn’t helped much, but he was going to stay to the original storyline as much as possible. Of course, she wasn’t able to answer the only question he had. “Who created this show?” That was the ultimate question. Who created the show and managed to produce such an absorbing critique of humanity, of good versus evil? Try as she might, Lysse couldn’t get behind the mounds of legalese and roadblocks thrown in her way. Normally, she could get around anything, but this remained out of her reach. Just when she thought she was getting close, things would suddenly close up. Her eyes strayed towards her computer then to her watch. He’d be on. Maybe, just maybe he’d give her another clue to finding Ti’taris Awakening’s author. Before she realized it, Lysse stood before the computer, booting it up. Sitting in her chair, she logged online quickly, signing into her messenger system while putting her email client to work. Lysse scanned her emails, deleting the junk before catching sight of a name. Stopping, she smiled. He had written her early this morning. Lysse, Just wanted you to know I’m not sure I’ll be online tonight. Work is beyond unbearable. Keeping the thought of talking to you as a reward if I can beat back the savage beast to his chamber. Have you considered my offer? I don’t want to rush you, but to be honest, I’d love to finally meet in person. Your safety comes first though, so whatever you deem best. Always, E. Mikkelson. Softly, she caressed the screen. He always signed it with his initial. A half smile crossed her face. She knew it was because he was afraid people would equate him with the character Ephram as they shared the same name. Over and again, she told him not everyone would make that comparison, but he told her of the times he had with others who did. She couldn’t blame him for his reluctance, but since most people referred to the character by his nickname, Ram, she didn’t think it was an issue. Yet, it touched her to see him sign his name, including his last name as an act of faith. Maybe it was time to meet him in person. Deciding that it was time once again to creep out of the shell of seclusion she wove around her, she replied. She was off this weekend and if he were willing, she’d love to meet him somewhere public, like the local bookstore. They could get a drink, talk books and go from there. Hitting the send button, Lysse closed her eyes and released her breath. Fear curled around her heart briefly. She wasn’t much to look at, fairly plain actually. What if she wasn’t like he expected? Too late now for regrets, Lysse. Just deal with it. Finishing the rest of her email, Lysse prepared to log off when her messenger showed Ephram logging on. E_Mikkel: Lysse, you there? Lysse_Astarte: I’m here. You okay, Ephram? Things go okay at work? E_Mikkel: Something like that. Just recovered enough to get online. How was your day? Lysse_Astarte: ☺ Almost missed today’s episode, but got there in the nick of time. Did you see it? E_Mikkel: Saw the last 45 minutes of it. Was quite spectacular. Amazing sequence with how Namorian managed to grab Mara and cut Ram’s arm. What do you think are the consequences that Namorian raved about? Lysse_Astarte: *thinks * Honestly, I’m wondering if he’s talking about the way the war is tearing up the lands. The more I watch it, the more it reminds me of here with our environmental versus big business. Yet, at the same time, it’s different. We know the earth can renew itself given a chance, but when you give the land and its people no breaks, no time to heal, then in a way, you destroy the foundations. E_Mikkel: I thought so too. What I found interesting is that Ram thinks by ridding Namorian, all things will be settled. Lysse_Astarte: Yeah. Unfortunately, it’ll take more than just stopping Namorian before that happens. He’s also got his followers and the generals who have control of their areas. But getting rid of the head will make it easier to negotiate peace from a position of power. I only hope that Ram realizes that death alone won’t stop the destruction of Ti’taris. He needs to also begin a campaign to rectify the wrongs done on both sides. E_Mikkel: What do you mean by that? *lifts brow* Lysse_Astarte: I mean Ram’s army has done wrong too. Yes, it’s in the name of peace, justice, and balance, but they’ve still done wrong. If they don’t rectify the errors and harm they’ve done, then they’re just as guilty of lording over the peoples of Ti’taris as are Namorian and his henchmen. But by going back and making tithe to the land, just as Galzora asked, then it would be the first step to showing they’re not of the same mold. E_Mikkel: Great point, Lysse. I hadn’t considered that aspect at all. Since Galzora is the Soul of Ti’taris, she would know how the land feels. Lysse_Astarte: More importantly, I think she’s a physical manifestation of the land and the people. Just as Mara is the heart of the Llewadaghs and Van is the head of the Tuathas, Galzora is the living representative of Ti’taris, letting Ram know what the land expects of him when he rules. E_Mikkel: ☺ You’re damn good at seeing this, Lysse. Too bad you’re not an advisor to the show. I see you got my email. Lysse_Astarte: * blush* Yes, I did. I’d love to finally meet you in person. Are you available this weekend? *bites lip nervously * E_Mikkel: Yes! Are you sure you want to do this? Lysse_Astarte: I’m sure. Just worried once you see me that you’ll regret it. E_Mikkel: *taps Lysse on head * No, remember you’ve shown me your picture before. You’re beautiful and I’d be honoured to be hanging at your side. Lysse_Astarte: Flattery will get you most anywhere that chocolate won’t. How about Patterson’s Bookshop around 2? E_Mikkel: Sounds like a plan. I’ll be in jeans, hiking boots, and prolly my Ti’taris Awakening t-shirt. I’ve got short spiky almost black hair, brown eyes, and a crooked grin. Lysse_Astarte: *tilts head and grins mischievously * You sure you’re not— E_Mikkel: Lysse Myrlene Astarte! Don’t you dare imply that! Lysse_Astarte: * giggles * Whatever do you mean, Ephram? E_Mikkel: Playing coy won’t work, Madame. I know exactly what you were implying. Lysse_Astarte: Well, dammit, Ephram, the description is one we hear all the time about Ram. What did you expect? *    *    * That was the question- what did Ephram expect? He rubbed his bandaged arm, looked at the instant message (IM) with a ragged sigh. Running a hand through his spiky hair, he tried to figure out why on some level it bugged him that she tried to equate him, even playfully, with Ephram on Ti’taris. Uh, because it’s true, asshole? Because you need her to help you save your world and in turn save hers? E_Mikkel: Not sure, perhaps that you’d think me different? Lysse_Astarte: You are different, Ephram. Very much so. But you used the exact same description that Galzora did in the third episode in describing him to Mara. I was just teasing, Ephram. I’m sorry. ☹ Ephram cursed. He’d forgotten that Gal had described him exactly that way when Mara and Van had asked about him. That was one of the problems in having a special recorder that taped and rotoscoped everything into anime form to be sent to the shadow world known as Earth. E_Mikkel: No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I had totally forgotten Galzora’s description. Trust me when I say my description is unintentionally like Ram’s. Lysse_Astarte: You sure you’re not mad at me? E_Mikkel: * hugs you tightly * I’m sure. I’m just a bit on edge dealing with work and a pain in the ass competitor. Lysse_Astarte: * hugs back * That sucks, Ephram. Tomorrow will be better? E_Mikkel: I can only hope. What about you? Lysse_Astarte: I’m catching up on the end of the workweek. Just some things to straighten up and then get the contracts for the T.A. movie into the right hands. After next week, I’m on vacation. Whooo hooo! E_Mikkel: Congrats, lady. What you doing for your vacation? Lysse_Astarte: Not sure. Prolly hang out here at the apartment. Depends on how I feel. E_Mikkel: Too bad you couldn’t come spend time with me while I go gallivanting around. Lysse_Astarte: That’s right, you’re going away for a couple of weeks. * pouts * I’ll miss our conversations. E_Mikkel: You wouldn’t if you come with me. * winks * Lysse_Astarte: * shakes head* You flirt! I bet you say that to all the women you know. I don’t know if I could leave and not be available by phone or computer. Not with the movie deal like it is right now. E_Mikkel: Once we meet, think on it, okay? It’d be fun having a friend around while I do my play job. Lysse_Astarte: I’ll consider it. It does sound more fun than sitting home alone. Ephram smiled. This woman wasn’t easily persuaded, but from the moment they met via email, chat, and through his lawyers, he knew she was special. It was only when she got him the coveted TV airtime on a major network that he realized she had something special, perhaps even a gift of power from Ti’taris. Then he saw her picture and knew their fates were linked beyond the two realms, Reality and Shadow. How could he explain when they met that she lived in Shadow and that Ti’taris was the land of Reality? Would she even believe him? Hell, he was the spitting image of his anime character, as he never thought he’d ever see a person from Shadow. Yet, he was going to go into the Shadow world to meet the beautiful Lysse and try to convince her to come save his world and hers. Ram knew that if they failed and Ti’taris fell, it would be only a matter of time before Earth fell as well. Lysse dying was unacceptable. The idea tore at his soul, knowing he would do anything to save the woman. Thus, Ram lived with the dilemma of knowing that heavy lays the crown of rulership. Men had died for him, women had longed for him, and he only knew pain and suffering would worsen if he lost. But Galzora promised him that she from the other land would be the key to victory, if only he could have her trust. Time was running out and now he had to get her help. They talked a while longer on other things as Ram took notes on the changes wrought by his war with Namorian. These helped him to keep on target, not to mention that Lysse’s advice had proven sage on many occasions, none of which, when seen by her and the viewing audience even hinted at Lysse that there was something more going on. Finally, he sent her to bed, promising to see her on Saturday. Leaning back in his chair, he let out a sigh. “Let me guess—Lysse is playing hard to get?” Van asked as he entered Ephram’s room. “No, in fact, we’re meeting on Saturday. It’s just hard knowing I’m still deceiving her.” “Look Ram, if there were another way, we’d have done it. I don’t like that we’re lying to a Shadow person either, but we have no choice. Not until we meet her and get her to Ti’taris.” Ram’s dark brown eyes took in the grey eyes of his best friend, Van Sethos. “I’m wondering if she’s a full Shadow person, Van.” “What?” “There’s something about her that radiates unusual, even among the Shadow People. Even the half breed lawyers we have noted it.” Van’s pale brow lifted under his long bangs. “You think she’s part Ti’tarisian?” Ram nodded. “Yeah, I do.” “That could complicate things.” “Or make them better.” “Yeah.” Van squeezed Ram’s shoulder. “We’ll muddle through this. Watching her on the cams has been interesting. She’s not the usual type I’d go for, but there is something very inviting about her.” Ram growled. “Yeah, but she’s not your type. Remember that.” “Jealousy already? The mighty Ram has fallen.” “Fuck off, Van. It’s not that.” Van chuckled. “As you say, Sire. I’m heading to bed. The guards are up and doing their rounds. We should be okay for the night.” “Thanks, Van. See you and Mara in the morning.” “Night, Ram. Get some sleep.” Ram never let his eyes wander from the monitor as he keyed in the code that pulled up the special remote recorder that allowed him to watch over Lysse. His body tightened as she crawled naked into bed, her body pale against the navy blue sheets and matching comforter. Every night he could, he watched her while she fell asleep, sometimes waking up to an unbearable pressure as their dreams merged, causing him to seek a hands on relief to the sexual tension she brought to him and his life. He had a feeling tonight would be like none other. Their dream bond seemed to be even stronger after she watched the latest episode of Ti’taris Awakening. Hopefully tonight he could convince her in the dreams that he needed her to come with him and to give him trust when they met. Without it, both their worlds would be doomed.

[darkshrimpemotions]

So I’ve been talking about Ayn Rand with my roommate a bit lately, and it’s made me think seriously about her work for the first time in about 10 years, and...hoo boy.

Like a lot of dumbass kids, I read The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged when I was 19 or 20 and thought they were brilliant. But now that I’m 29 and looking back on them, I’m horrified that I could have ever have been so easily manipulated as to think they were anything but terrible.

For instance (god there are so many examples but just for one): There’s a scene in the second half of The Fountainhead where Peter, one of the milder “antagonists” of the story (basically everyone except the “ideal man” *gags* himself, Howard Roark, is an antagonist in this story), goes to Howard, who he’s known since school and who he’s always looked up to somewhat, and shows him some of the paintings he’s been doing lately.

See, Peter has always wanted to be a painter, but he went to school for architecture instead because it was a more practical career, and because others told him to (his great character flaw is that he does whatever others tell him to).

But he’s been painting again. And he asks Howard, whose opinion he respects, whether his paintings are any good. And Howard tells him point-blank that no, it’s too late, he missed his chance to be a painter.

(Also I just did the math, and this scene happens when both characters are in their late 30s to early 40s, mid-40s tops, and yet it’s apparently too fucking late for one of them to do the thing he loves and work toward mastering it.)

And that just...god that writhes under my skin. Like...how fucking dare she, you know? There are more things than I can even name in a semi-cohesive tumblr post that Ayn Rand put into the world and promoted that are so disgusting, and at the root of so many of the social and political issues we’re dealing with right now, and so fucking damaging, but this one? This one is easily in the top 5 for me. This idea that it can ever be too late to make a change in your life and pursue something you love, and create, and get better.

It’s not too late until you’re fucking dead, alright? It’s not even too late if you’re dying, if you have the time to bang out one single damn thing that’s all you and what you want to do, it’s not too fucking late. And the fact that this horrendous woman put that out into the world as part and parcel of all the rest of her fucked up, sociopathic “philosophy” just...to use a very Southern term, just flies all over me. Fuck Ayn Rand, seriously.

[clefartist]

JTS 8- Round Again

it’s been 3000 years... did you know i write? did you know I have an unfinished rarepair fic? did you know it’s been exactly 13 months since it updated?

[archive] * read on a03 * next

Steven fixed his hair from the strong gusts as the boat landed on Iron Island. His intentions were to meet up with Riley again, but how could he wait in the cabin when there were beautiful gems to be found? 

The path he chose was a small opening that shot off from the main section of the mine, leading to a small, quiet cavern.  He began inspecting the walls as noise from the main path echoed within.  Someone was quite rowdy, their voice even reaching Steven’s ears. They began walking toward Steven’s location and he could pick out the conversation was about fossils.   “Let’s just, move this out of the cave and – Steven?” Turning his attention away from the wall, he found Riley meeting his eyes. In front of Riley was Roark conversing with a rugged man, the source of the loud voice. They remained unaware of Steven as they walked out, arguing. “Dad, how could you compare a fossil like that to MY Rampardos?!” “A fossil that rare MUST have incredible value!!” “They can’t be compared until we revive it!” “WHY WOULD I LET YOU REVIVE SUCH A FOSSIL” Riley watched them leave next to Steven, shaking his head. “It never ends with those two.” “Are they just going to cause a ruckus outside now?” said Steven. “…Yes.” Riley grimaced. “Once I settle it, I can go with you into the mine.” He began walking toward the exit. Steven followed outside. The pair was about to battle just in front of the entrance, Riley jogging over to quickly intercede. “It’s ten years too early for you to beat ME, son!” “Today’s the day I finally show you, DAD! Go Rampardos!” Roark’s signature pokemon stamped the ground, letting out a cry. “I LOVE BASTIODON!” The pokemon kicked up dirt, yelling into the sky. The pokemon that came out had a metallic body. It had to be a steel type. “Roark, Byron, please! If you fight seriously here you’ll disturb the Steelix!” “Riley, where’s Lucario?” Steven fingered his belt. “He’s back in the mine, keeping people away from where these two found a fossil.” “Alright, I’ll handle this.” With a flick of his wrist, he watched as Aggron took a place between the fighters, metal hide shining under the sun. The pair whipped their heads toward Steven. “HEY! What’cha doing?” “Steven? You were here?” “Good to see you again, Roark. And you,” he turned his head, “must be Byron. Roark has told me about you.” “A friend of my son, eh?” “I’m a wandering stone collector.” “Stones? But the best thing there is FOSSILS!” Byron called back Bastiodon, walking toward Steven. “Follow me to the cabin. I’ll show you fossils brighter than the biggest jewel!” Steven smirked, calling back Aggron. “I don’t believe that to be an accurate comparison, but I’ll follow.” He set off after Byron, who was already moving toward the cabin. Roark called back Rampardos, following after. “As if you have any fossils better than my fossils!” Riley mumbled after them. - “Dad I can’t stay any longer, I have to go back to my Gym.” “If you must, son.” Byron took a gulp from his glass and Roark got up from the table. “It was great to catch up with you Steven, Riley.” “Likewise, Roark. Have a good night.” Steven smiled. He gripped his own glass. Riley sat with a cup of tea. The door shut behind him as Byron took out another bottle, setting it on the table with gusto. “Byron, Steven actually thought I was a Gym trainer when we met” said Riley as Byron put the filled glass to his lips. Booze flew across the table from Byron’s mouth as Steven hid his face. “HA! Gym trainer? He’s Gym LEADER material!” “I’m honored, but your son was the better fit at the time.” “At the time? How long have you known each other?” Steven said. “It’s been a number of years now.” Riley answered. “Yes. I found Iron Island, abundant with potential, when Riley appeared!” said Byron, “The spark in his eye called for a battle, and who am I to refuse!” Riley’s face was blank. Steven glanced at him but returned as he continued. “We battled for days and nights, neither giving an inch! In the end we had a bond stronger than STEEL, and together we changed Iron Island!” Riley sighed as Byron chugged down more. “Byron built this cabin with some help. He’s also responsible for bringing people here in the first place.” “HA HAH! And Riley does the rest!” Riley nodded in agreement. “He is a Gym Leader after all.” “Can’t come here as much as I want to.” “Doesn’t stop you from visiting late at night for a round or two.” “Of course!” With a hearty laugh Byron refilled his glass again. Steven smirked, helping himself to a bit of his drink. “So Riley, how’d you meet Steven?” “He was digging in the Steelix den.” Byron loudly chuckled to himself as Steven froze. “No one dares go close! What gave you such thick skin?” “It’s not like that at all. Mostly just, willing to look anywhere for a stone or two.” said Steven. “And what did you find?” Riley asked. “There was a time I found chert at a dormant volcano in my home region of Hoenn, that was quite exciting. But I have to say, Sinnoh has –“ THUD. Byron’s head had crashed onto the table. “There it is.” Riley got up from the table, moving his empty teacup and Byron’s glass into the sink and putting away the liquor before. “Sorry Steven, but’s let’s call it a night. The room you took before is still free.” “Thanks Riley.” He handed Riley his glass as got up from his chair. “Let’s leave the mine to tomorrow then.” “Of course.” Riley lifted Byron onto his shoulder, holding his arm against his waist. While a bulky load, Riley easily carried Byron out toward the living room. “Could you open the door to Byron’s room?” Steven made his way there in front of them, opening Byron’s door before moving toward his own. “Goodnight Riley.” “Thank you, goodnight.”

[her-culture]

3 Books to Bend Your Mind

One has to adopt a languid manner when reading. A hushed mind than a hurried one is needed to take in all that books have to offer. The insight and the other worldly wisdom that exude from the pages of books have often become an underrated statement. Nonetheless books have always done their best to reach the very few who would take these words by the heart and hand. Now what I have here are three books that cover all of the aforementioned ideals. This following books are no short from extraordinary, that I am guaranteed will blow anyone away.

The Doldrums is a children's book. Once in a while dabbling in a children's book feels like a breath of fresh air. But here's what makes The Doldrums perfect for all to read. It highlights complex issues in the most simplest ways. The story entails a boy named Archer Benjamin Helmsley, the 11 year old grandson of a pair of world famous explorers who had been thought to have disappeared on a Antarctic iceberg. Archer grows up in his grandparents home with his overbearing mother and lawyer father. His grandparents home is a relic of their adventurous life. Archer often finds himself talking to the stuffed animals, and roaming around his home chancing upon strange findings and longing for an adventure of his own. He is soon joined by Oliver Glub, his loyal friend and neighbour, and Adelaide Belmont, a French girl with a wooden leg on a journey to discover his grandparents. The story is no short of adventurous whim. I remember that I got through three quarters of this book in one sitting. This book very evidently highlights that it's for the dreamers and the believers. One can't help but feel like you're meant to do so much more when one reads this book. On a side note, I would highly recommend that you have a fresh set of chocolate croissants and coffee while reading this book.

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Elizabeth Gaskell is a writer with a touch of Austen and an insurmountable streak of genius. This book is about the uniting of two unlikely loves, Margaret Hale and John Thornton. Margaret is the daughter of an ex-minister who had lost his faith and moved to smoky Milton in order to persue his love of teaching while John Thornton is a cotton mill owner with a considerable amount of wealth. The story is set in the industrial revolution and highlights the nuances of the different social classes. Gaskell intelligently and subtly intertwined philosophy in the everyday lives of these people. To think that a woman of the 19th century to be so well verse with the workings of society and the industrial revolution is astonishing. This story brings new light and gives meaning to how we perceive the world around us. Though it is predominantly a romantic literature, Gaskell takes great leaps and bounds by introducing an entirely new idea, almost foreign at that time; equality between master and worker. It is very much a stimulating read and one that forces us to reconsider our ideals of today. With all that has been going on in the world of late, I think a text of this sort is in order of revival.

I like to think that I have saved the best for the last. I use to wonder how people reread books or how some of them regarded certain books as their bible. Hans Ulrich Obrist, curator and avid reader himself has said that he read Carl Seelig's books about his walks with Wasler, twenty to thirty times. I discovered there is a whole religion to this sort of attitude after getting my hands on Rand's The Fountainhead. One third through the book and I knew that this was the essence of what people call as their bible. What seems like normal characters in a book is an intricate and detailed study of mankind itself. The story revolves around Howard Roark, an architect who battles collectivist ideology to thrive and bring an understanding of how the "creator" works. Dominique Fancon, an exquisitely beautiful creature falls madly in love with Roark but ends up marrying his biggest enemy instead. This story is far from just architecture itself. It is about our fading ideals of individualism and demonic values of collectivism. Long after completing this book, I still find myself flicking through pages of heavy marginalia, as these words set my head abuzz . The power in the words used by Rand bring a sort of fury, tamed, passionate fury that shivers one to the very core. If anything these three books bend your mind to think on a completely new plane. It urges one to dispel common thoughts and forge a new path of unconventional thinking. These are not books jut to be read, rather one has to devour it whole. I am a strong believer that , every word, a sound from the movement of your tongue or the image in your head from when you look at a word, have the ability to ignite a feverish fervour of emotions. I would like to end this by sharing, what I consider to be a very powerful quote from The Fountainhead. "But the mind is an attribute of the individual. There is no such thing as a collective brain. There is no such thing as a collective thought. A agreement reached by a group of men is only a compromise or an average drawn upon many individual thoughts. It is a secondary consequence. The primary act - the process of reason - must be performed by each man alone. We can divide a meal among many men. We cannot digest it in a collective stomach. No man can use his lungs to breathe for another man. No man can use his brains to think for another. All the functions of body and spirit are private. They cannot be shared or transferred."

[njawaidofficial]

'Survivor' Season 35: Jeff Probst on Episode 6

https://styleveryday.com/2017/11/02/survivor-season-35-jeff-probst-on-episode-6/

'Survivor' Season 35: Jeff Probst on Episode 6

Welcome to The Hollywood Reporter‘s Survivor: Heroes vs. Healers vs. Hustlers common season protection! Each week, we’re bringing you exit interviews with the most recent individual voted out, recaps from THR‘s very personal Dan Fienberg and weekly check-ins with govt producer and host Jeff Probst. Bookmark our season 35 one-stop store to be sure to do not miss out on any of it.

Warning: Spoilers forward for season 35, episode six.

Six gamers are gone. Twelve Heroes, Healers and Hustlers stay. What does the sector seem like shifting ahead into the subsequent section of Survivor season 35?

That is the query we posed this week to govt producer, showrunner and host Jeff Probst, now that we’re six Tribal Councils into the season. With a merge on the horizon, how does Probst view the remaining castaways within the hunt for the million greenback prize? Learn on for his ideas on every of the 12 contestants nonetheless within the recreation, in first identify alphabetical order inside their beginning tribes:

Ashley Nolan (Lifeguard): “Ashley began as a quiet one, and he or she’s nonetheless taking part in a quiet recreation. If historical past is an indicator, these kind of gamers are likely to final very lengthy. If Ashley has a second gear, she may make a run for it, and together with her bodily talents, that may very well be lethal.”

Ben Driebergen (Marine): “Ben has been an enormous character from the get go, however the extra he performs the larger his goal turns into. His largest check will probably be post-merge. The sport adjustments considerably, and if he continues to steer his personal ship, he’ll stay public enemy primary as a result of different gamers worry dealing with him ultimately.”

Chrissy Hofbeck (Precise Actuary): “Chrissy is a really sensible and really strategic participant. I think about she spends plenty of time pondering issues like, ‘Oh these fools don’t know what I’m able to…’ Chrissy has put herself in a extremely great spot at this level within the recreation. She has cultivated some good relationships and could possibly drive the sport within the path she desires. Her largest concern will probably be others realizing what she already is aware of: she may win.”

JP Hilsabeck (Firefighter): “JP has performed a really refined recreation to date. Extra than simply laying low, he is been invisible at occasions. At first I assumed possibly he simply did not perceive what was taking place, however I am slowly beginning to notice that possibly he is aware of far more than he is letting on. Generally staying out of the way in which is the one finest technique, and he is a grasp — and there’s no denying that JP can singlehandedly take over a problem. Folks could also be underestimating him.”

Cole Medders (Wilderness Remedy Information): “Cole is electrical. He’s absolutely dedicated to taking part in the sport and I actually respect that from a fan perspective. It is easy to criticize some errors he is made, however they solely come from being keen to attempt issues. His huge query appears to focus on whether or not he can study from his errors and treatment them earlier than it is too late. In that case, he nonetheless has a shot.”

Desi Williams (Bodily Therapist): “Desi is much like Ashley. She is a superb observer. She additionally has nice persistence and he or she would not get upset simply. Desi must get a stronger alliance constructed as we’re getting to some extent within the recreation the place you want some numbers to assist drive you to the tip. We’re coming into the person portion of the sport, and this may very well be when Desi actually shines, particularly bodily.”

Jessica Johnston (Nurse Practitioner): “I am not breaking any information with this, however Jessica’s largest problem is her lack of ability to separate infatuation from technique. I believe the complete viewers is yelling ‘What are you doing?’ She continues to belief Cole with data and Cole continues to attempt to use that data to his benefit. Time to chop the wire and begin taking part in her personal recreation.”

Joe Mena (Probation Officer): “Joe is taking the Tony method to the sport: play wild and aggressively. It is a tremendous dangerous technique, however it could possibly work. There’s a turning level the place the jury shifts from discovering a participant annoying to seeing the readability of their chaos. If Joe can final lengthy sufficient, he may sway all people that he is a mad genius.”

Mike Zahalsky (Urologist): “I’m as confused as ever by Dr. Mike. Is he sensible or is he nuts?  He is undoubtedly taking part in the sport, and he is taking part in to win. Mike appears to be a scrappy sort of participant, who may be used to being neglected. If he can stay humble however keep within the hunt he is the kind of participant who winds up on the Last Tribal.”

Devon Pinto (Surf Teacher): “Devon is both a likable surfer dude who’s simply floating by, or he is a likable surfer dude by day… and murderer by evening. Unsure but. Devon is very easy to look previous as a result of you may decide his ‘dangle ten’ perspective as being clueless. Devon is not clueless. If Devon can keep inside the sport sufficient to be in on the ‘intel,’ then he would possibly discover himself with choices on the finish.”

Lauren Rimmer (Fisherman): “Lauren has stunned me. I did not actually know what to anticipate from her recreation play. She is taking part in a really totally different model of Survivor, nevertheless it’s working. She’s on this factor.  Folks appear to love her, she’s robust sufficient bodily to be a menace, and simply adequately subtle strategically that individuals could not absolutely see what she’s doing.”

Ryan Ulrich (Bellhop): “Ryan is right here to play and right here to win. He is wily and really adept on the social recreation. Should you watch him, he is typically within the background showing oblivious, however he isn’t — he is zoned in to each dialog and processing all day day-after-day. If individuals notice that he is a very legit menace to get to the tip, then he is finished. But when Ryan continues to play the youthful brother function and make mentors of his tribe mates, he’s in fine condition.”

Earlier than we transfer on into the subsequent section of the season, let’s look again one last time on the most recent eradicated castaway: Ali Elliott, initially of the Hustlers, blindsided by one among her authentic allies, Ryan Ulrich. Ali’s exit comes one Tribal Council after she misplaced her ally Roark Luskin from the sport, the 2 of them having bonded shortly on the swapped Soko tribe.

Here is how Probst seen Ali within the preseason: “We preferred Ali the minute she walked in. Her vitality was actually contagious as a result of she’s so likable and shiny. She has an enormous smile. Actually quick, it turns into obvious that she’s not only a younger fairly woman who’s working round smiling. She’s an intense younger girl. She actually desires to play Survivor and he or she desires to play properly. She’s fascinated by the sport on a regular basis. Being on the Hustlers tribe, she’s a private assistant, and that is every little thing you might want to know. These guys work all day making an attempt to determine it out. Ali, I preserve going again to this depth to her that I do not know if it is simply intense as a result of ‘I am sensible and I am devoted and my dad and mom raised me to take advantage of out of every little thing,’ or if it is intense like, ‘I’ll lose my thoughts in a minute.’ I do not know. I am actually curious to see. I believe she’s actually likable at first look, and that ought to put her in a very good group. She’s going to make an early alliance, I’ve a sense, and attempt to lead.”

And here is what Probst thinks about Ali now: “We had been already lacking Ali earlier than the smoke on her snuffed torch had disappeared. I believe Ali is a real throughout menace. She will be able to win this recreation from a number of totally different entry factors. Numerous younger ladies had been unhappy to see her go as a result of she possesses such confidence and inside energy for a youthful individual. I hope she’ll play once more.”

Observe THR.com/Survivor for exit interviews with the castaways, weekly check-ins with Jeff Probst, and recaps from Dan Fienberg all season lengthy.

Survivor

#35 #6 #Episode #Jeff #Probst #Season #Survivor

[flauntpage]

Your Wednesday Morning Roundup

The Phillies won’t finish the season with 100 losses. Another small good thing in a pretty bad season.

They defeated the Washington Nationals 4-1 thanks to a two-run double by Cameron Rupp in the third inning. Starter Jake Thompson had a strong outing, going five innings and giving up one run on four hits while striking out five. The Phillies’ bullpen struck out nine in four innings of work.

Record-wise, this season was worse than last year’s 71-91 record, but there have been plenty of bright spots to show the near future. Ever since the arrival of Nick Williams in July, the team has started to become somewhat watchable. Will this change in 2018? I hope. But there’s still plenty of work that needs to be done.

Phils and Nats go at it one final time in 2017 tonight at 7:05. Mark Leiter Jr. goes for Philadelphia, while Tanner Roark opposes him for Washington.

The Roundup:

The best thing I read yesterday was Philly.com’s wonderful article of the oral history of the 2007 Phillies’ regular season finale.

Aaron Nola’s numbers have quietly been some of the best in baseball, from Ryan Lawrence of Philly Voice:

The fact that we’re in the final week of the 2017 season and talking about where Nola ranks among baseball’s best pitchers is somewhat remarkable given where we were a year ago, or even just six months ago with the 24-year-old right-hander. Nola missed the final two months of the 2016 season with an elbow injury and no one was still quite sure what to expect when he began making regular turns in the Grapefruit League back in March.

It’s safe to say Nola has quieted the pessimistic critics. And it’s also fair to say that Mackanin has been more than pleased to have a pitcher like Nola slotted anywhere in his rotation going into 2018.

While Rhys Hoskins is in a home run drought, Nick Williams is currently in a hit drought.

—

The Eagles brought back a familiar face in Kenjon Barner to replace Darren Sproles on a one-year deal. Barner recorded 129 rushing yards, 42 receiving yards, and two rushing touchdowns in 13 games with the Eagles last season.

Even without Sproles in the mix, the team can still have a diversified running game.

ESPN’s Tim McManus writes about Doug Pederson’s two analytics assistants that help him decide whether or not to go for it on fourth down:

Pederson named one of them at his day-after news conference — coaching assistant/linebackers coach Ryan Paganetti, a Dartmouth grad with a degree in Economics who spent two years as an analyst for the team. Offensive coordinator Frank Reich told ESPN there is a second voice that can be heard over the game-day communications system when it comes to such matters — director of football compliance Jon Ferrari.

The pair weighs in throughout the game, Reich said: after just about every touchdown on whether to go for one or two; during the final two minutes of each half to discuss timeouts, etc.; and when the team gets into what is considered fourth-down territory — usually around midfield and beyond. Sometimes Pederson initiates the dialogue; other times, the men upstairs do.

Carson Wentz now owes Jake Elliott a game check. But he may have worked out an alternative:

Well that escalated quickly…

but don't worry, @jake_elliott22 and I got this worked out…

— Carson Wentz (@cj_wentz) September 27, 2017

An Eagles fan claims Giants wide receiver Brandon Marshall spat at his face.

—

After losing in overtime at MSG on Monday, the Flyers won the second leg of a home-and-home against the New York Rangers 4-3. Travis Konecny had the game-winner in the extra session.

It was Sam Morin’s turn to be the top young defenseman. The former first round pick scored the Flyers’ first goal and had a team-high four hits.

“I really don’t put pressure on myself. I know I belong here,” said Morin, a first-round selection (11th overall) in the 2013 draft. “I think I’m ready for the NHL, to be honest. I just have to keep working hard and show those guys I can make it.”

With the Flyers in a 2-0 deficit, Claude Giroux  — who again played left wing on Sean Couturier’s line — raced into the right circle, pirouetted, and dropped a pass to the on-charging Morin in the high slot. The big defenseman put a wrist shot behind Pavelec with 1:24 remaining in the first.

“I just saw ‘G’ had the puck and when he has the puck you have to be ready for the pass,” said Morin, who barely missed scoring a second goal when his backhander from the doorstep went wide midway through the third period. “I was coming from the bench and I just shot the puck toward the net and sometimes the puck goes in.”

Is Morin behind his fellow 2013 draft counterparts in terms of development?

Sam Carchidi is not a fan of protesting the National Anthem.

After spending a couple years in the AHL and some limited experience in the NHL, Jordan Weal is part of the young Flyers core.

Make no mistake, Weal was a darling of the Flyers fan base last season. They wanted him to make the team out of training camp. But the coaching staff thought Weal left a lot of meat on the bone in camp a year ago.

“He’s earned [his spot this season] and he’s kind of earned it the old-fashioned way,” coach Dave Hakstol said. “He spent more than a couple years in the AHL. The reality is he probably didn’t have the type of camp that he had hoped last year, but he went to Lehigh and earned it.

“He was arguably the best player in that league for several months. He’s earned the opportunity to be in a different spot [this year]. He works at his game and competes really hard. Right now, like any player, he’s working to get his game to a regular season level a week from now – and he’s earned that.”

—

The Sixers officially opened up training camp in Camden. After practice, head coach Brett Brown said he wants the team to make the playoffs:

“As I said to the group, our goal is to make the playoffs,” Brown said. “There are several other teams … they are in a room saying something similar. So to me, let’s talk about what that really means.”

The fifth-year head coach was speaking in terms of what his team needs to do to make a playoff berth possible. That’s understandable. But before Tuesday, Brown spoke of the challenges that will come with starting two rookie ballhandlers in Ben Simmons and Markelle Fultz. He never publicly mentioned trying to make the playoffs. Simmons and Fultz have done a great job of that, while Brown and the Sixers’ front office downplayed the heightened expectations.

Brown still loves Joel Embiid, who won’t participate in 5-of-5 drills throughout camp.

There’s two Okafors at camp this season, but they’re not related. Former first round pick Emeka Okafor is trying to return to the NBA after a four-year absence:

“Being back in this environment, being back in the NBA umbrella, with the guys, the team, talking to the press, just feels so good,” Okafor said Monday. “It feels like putting on a suit that’s always been the right fit, or your favorite pair of jeans, however you want to put it. It just feels very, very natural.”

Why, if something feels so right, would he wait so long to come back? The timing wasn’t right and he wanted to continue rehabbing in a way that would promote longevity.

“Making sure I was healthy and strong and ready to come back and play the way I wanted to play,” Okafor said.

What starting lineups may or may not work for the Sixers this season?

—

Logan Marchi and Frank Nutile will battle for the starting quarterback job this week, according to Temple head coach Geoff Collins.

Villanova head coach Jay Wright reflects on his time with the late Rollie Massimino.

—

In other sports news, 10 people involved in college basketball, including four assistant coaches and a senior executive at Adidas, are facing federal bribery, fraud, and corruption charges in what could be the start of something big. And maybe the end of Rick Pitino at Louisville.

Researchers at Boston University may have a biomarker to help diagnose CTE while people are living:

In a study published Tuesday in the journal PLOS ONE, the researchers found that the biomarker, the protein CCL11, might also help distinguish CTE from Alzheimer’s disease, which often presents with symptoms similar to CTE and also can be definitively diagnosed only postmortem. The ability to diagnose CTE in the living would allow not only for the development of possible therapies to treat the disease, but also for research into prevention.

“This is a step forward from our knowledge gained in understanding CTE from brain donations,” says study senior author Ann McKee, a MED professor of neurology and pathology, director of BU’s CTE Center, and chief of neuropathology at VABHS. “It’s a hopeful step. The whole point is to understand as much as we can from the individuals who’ve fallen, so we can apply it to our future veterans and athletes.”

Dwyane Wade is expected to reunite with LeBron James in Cleveland once he clears waivers today.

DirecTV is allowing some subscribers to cancel their Sunday Ticket packages because of the National Anthem protests.

It might reach hockey as well, as Joel Ward, a Canadian, may take a knee during the National Anthem:

“It’s definitely something I wouldn’t cross out,” Ward said when asked by the Mercury News whether he’d consider taking a knee during the national anthem at an upcoming Sharks game.

“I’ve experienced a lot of racism myself in hockey and on a day-to-day occurrence. I haven’t really sat down to think about it too much yet, but I definitely wouldn’t say no to it.”

Deadspin did a feature on Raiders superfan Dr. Death and why he’s giving up on football if the Raiders move to Las Vegas.

Ric Flair claims he’s slept with around 10,000 women in his life in his 30 for 30 documentary. He now regrets saying that.

Huh:

From Michael Beasley podcast…we debated & disagreed about this (& much more) for at least 15 min. WHO IS RIGHT? https://t.co/2Bess1WpN2 http://pic.twitter.com/VrnggG7Bk1

— Taylor Rooks (@TaylorRooks) September 26, 2017

—

In the news, Twitter is expanding their character limit from 140 to 280 and it already sucks:

This is a small change, but a big move for us. 140 was an arbitrary choice based on the 160 character SMS limit. Proud of how thoughtful the team has been in solving a real problem people have when trying to tweet. And at the same time maintaining our brevity, speed, and essence! https://t.co/TuHj51MsTu

— jack (@jack) September 26, 2017

The Saudi king has lifted a ban on women drivers.

A teen is dead and three others are injured in Germantown.

The Commerce Department is slapping a tariff on Canadian planemaker Bombardier.

Aerosmith is cancelling the rest of their South American tour after singer Steven Tyler suffered “unexpected medical issues.”

Dave Roberts on CBS tonight will feel really weird:

. @VittoriaWoodill talks to @David_Boreanaz and local favorite Dave Roberts Wednesday at 11 after @SEALTeamCBS #mustseeTV ONLY ON #CBS3 http://pic.twitter.com/W8X6TRFyi8

— CBS Philly (@CBSPhilly) September 26, 2017

Your Wednesday Morning Roundup published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[nutsandboltsandcabbagerolls]

AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR

               A strange man stood in front of Ezma’s shop. He had been standing there for hours, staring, apparently muttering to himself. Ezma stared back through the window. He seemed too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice.

Her stomach growled. She had been staring back for as long has he had been standing there. She should go get something to eat, but she knew if she left now, this late in the game, the man would wander away and she would not get any money from him. Even though he seemed not to notice her staring, he probably actually did notice. People did. Ezma had a very intense stare, which had on more than one occasion stopped somebody in their tracks. People didn’t typically stare back. This man did. Now it was a competition. If she got up from the counter, he would win, and she couldn’t have that.

“Just come buy something, old man,” she muttered to herself. Perhaps if she muttered also, the man would take it as a signal. It didn’t do anything immediately. He also didn’t seem to notice that. For somebody who had spent hours observing her shop, he didn’t seem very observant.

It was just after midday. The bell tower in the middle of Roark pealed twelve times, each strike more deafening than the last. Even though the tower was in the upper part of town, the sound carried such that it made her head hurt, like twelve stones hurled at her skull. Her mood was turning sour. She was very hungry.

On any normal day, this would not be such a dilemma. Ezma, in fact, had cared very little about the overall success or failure of her shop. The only reason she kept it was that it was an excellent workspace. The basement remained at just the right temperature and elevation to keep her alchemical experiments from destabilizing, and there was a fertile batch of soil in the back yard that was now home to several of her most often used ingredients. The shop had an upstairs area, but she was unable to open the door to the second floor. Apart from that, the only other detriment was that occasionally the building would creak strangely from the second floor. Perhaps the door was shut because it was unsafe to go in. But, all in all, the building wasn’t bad. It was abandoned when she found it, and she wasn’t sure why.

She had originally opened the first floor as a potion shop to pay for the ingredients and equipment she didn’t have or couldn’t make herself. Young women from the city came in occasionally looking for petty things like a tonic for pimples or a love potion. Ezma sold them bottles of ointment for significantly inflated prices. The ointment wasn’t completely useless; it just was a significantly weaker version than what her customers actually wanted. The tactic worked for the most part. People tended to keep away from the shop, and that was exactly how Ezma liked it.

But earlier this morning, a dark-haired man appeared in her shop when it opened. He called himself Shadowlight—that was his last name. Ezma couldn’t remember his first name. She was awful with names. Shadowlight claimed he was purchasing several buildings in the area to expand his business. Roark mandates that all businesses in the city submit an annual statement of earnings, to help them determine what outlandish tax rate to impose for the following year. Shadowlight somehow had gotten her most recent statement, and noted that earnings had been too poor to sustain itself. He had given her an ultimatum: Either double her profits by the end of the month, or he would be purchasing the business. He assured her that she would still be able to work there, but that he would get a cut of her earnings and a say in her inventory. She had stared him down through the entire offer. Apparently, Shadowlight took her sullen silence as acceptance, flashed a charming grin and left with his retainers.

The memory made her angrier. “Fucking come in and buy something already,” she said to the man currently outside her shop. Her stomach yowled in agreement.

The man considering her shop was an older man, with stringy gray hair that reached down his back and a long beard. He wore a set of gray robes that frayed at the edges, and had a curved piece of wood strapped to his hunched back. Despite his haggard appearance, his face didn’t seem as wrinkled as she expected from somebody his age, and his eyes were bright and alert. Part of her wanted him just to come in so she could get a better look at him. Not all was as it seemed, but she couldn’t put her finger on what, and that bothered her.

The bell tower rang again, tolling one. The man outside looked incredulously up at the sky, breaking his gaze with the shop for the first time all day. Ezma sat back in her chair, feeling victorious. She decided that it was perhaps time for him to go back to his hovel, asylum, or convent, and got up to get a rasher of jerky from the basement.

Just as she rounded the wall toward the stairs, she heard the soft jingle of the bell on the shop’s front door. She paused, considered just going to get the jerky anyway, but with a pang of anxiety remembered Shadowlight’s ultimatum. She took a deep breath and turned back toward the shop, not really bothering to hide the scowl on her face.

The gray-haired man stood in front of the counter, staring once again. Her shop wasn’t big, but she found it hard to believe he had made it to from the front door to the counter that quickly with how feeble he looked. She glanced to her side of the counter, where her greatsword rested.

“Can I help you?” she asked, trying to make her voice sound pleasant in spite of her foul mood. The result was the words came out in a squeaky growl, which only made her mood worse. She forced a smile on her face to try and help.

“Perhaps,” the old man said. His voice was high-pitched and warbled, and sounded as feeble as he looked. “I am looking for an alchemist to help me with…a potion.” He paced his words strangely, as though he was choosing them very carefully halfway through his sentences.

“I sell potions,” Ezma sighed.  “Take a look through the ones here on the counter and let me know if you have any questions.”

                The man glanced over at them and shook his head. “No, no, no, those are crap. I need something better. Some medicine.” He patted his robe in search of a pocket, and pulled a slip of paper out of his sleeve. He considered it for a moment, blinking several times. “…Yes, this is the one,” he decided, and slid the paper over the counter.

               Ezma picked it up. The recipe was very cleanly written, and the handwriting was tidy. The recipe itself, however, was highly unusual. “Wolfsbane…ginseng root…heart chakra petals? Human blood?” She looked up at the man. “What the hell is this?”

               He stared back, unblinking. “Is there a problem?

               She reached to give the paper back. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but this won’t make medicine to help whatever ails you. I suggest you talk to a priest, instead. Whatever you are trying to cure is beyond the assistance of medicine. I’m sorry.” She redoubled her reach to insist the man took his recipe back.

               “The medicine isn’t for me.” The man’s voice dropped in pitch slightly, and his stare darkened.

               Ezma was slightly unnerved by the change in tone. “Is your voice okay?”

               “What?” The feebleness had returned to his voice.

               “Your voice. It changed. Who are you?”

               “What?” he asked more loudly. “I can’t hear you!” He paused and looked around in confusion. “Where am I?” He blinked at her. “Who are you?”

               Now Ezma was thoroughly confused. Clearly his mind was failing. “Why do you want me to help you? There’s an alchemist up a few tiers who can assist better than me. Rumor has it he brews potions for the nobles themselves.” She couldn’t hide the disgust in her voice.

               The old man’s eyes glinted. “That is why I came to you. I understand you make more than crappy potions, and are one of the greatest alchemists in this city. Additionally, it seems you don’t much like the nobility. Me, either. ” He paused for a moment. “My father was a member of the nobility. He sent me away when…” He caught himself. “…When I was just a little boy.”  

She saw an opening and took it. Empathy and commiseration would definitely help secure a sale of some sort. Even better, she didn’t even have to lie about it. “Mine wasn’t great either. He was also a noble. He left my mother and I to fend for ourselves when I was young, too. Must be a nobleman thing.” Ezma had few memories of that early in her childhood, but that day she remembered very clearly. “He had bright red hair, and stupid eyebrows. At least I didn’t have to look at his ugly face any more after that.” Hey, I’m pretty good at this empathy thing. She gazed at the surface of the counter for a few beats for effect.

When she looked up, the man was staring at her again. This time, she was certain it wasn’t out of observation, but out of surprise. “Do…” He was choosing his words very carefully this time. “Do you know his name?”

Of course she did. Her mother wailed his name for months after he left, right up until she worried herself to death. It was a nonsense name, but she wasn’t about to give up one of her most closely guarded secrets. Speaking about her past indirectly was one thing; naming the people involved was something completely different. “Maybe. It’s been a while. I’m not sure. Why?”

“Was his name…Erlisch?” The man’s voice had changed again.

Ezma paled. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” How do you know who my father is?

“That’s the name of my father, as well,” the man muttered. “I didn’t know he had other children. I’m unsurprised, though.” He wiped the palm of his hand against his robe and held it out to her. “My name is Gadesh. I appear to be your brother.”

[footyplusau]

Bont checks in, set for first run in 2017

Dusty’s dodge, Bont travels, players’ party Wednesday Footy Feed with Nat Edwards and Jen Phelan

Marcus Bontempelli is set for his first hit-out for the season against the Suns

WESTERN Bulldogs superstar Marcus Bontempelli is set to play his first game of the season against the Suns after checking in for the team’s flight to the Gold Coast on Wednesday morning.

The Bulldogs midfielder has been hampered by an ankle complaint following a pre-season camp in Mooloolaba in January and did not play in the Dogs’ two pre-season losses to Melbourne and the Brisbane Lions.

However, he has shaken off those injury concerns and will return for Thursday evening’s clash with Gold Coast at Metricon Stadium.

Bontempelli was named to play against the Lions but was a late withdrawal from that game as the Bulldogs remained cautious with his recovery.

“He’s been going along really well and he trained really well last week, so it’ll be great to have him back out there,” teammate Clay Smith said.

“He’s an amazing player and probably one of the best players at his age to come through the game that I’ve ever seen, and he’s a good person to have out there alongside you because you definitely walk taller.”

The Bulldogs will field their strongest team of the pre-season, minus injured ruckmen Jordan Roughead (hamstring) and Tom Campbell (ankle), while Dale Morris will also sit out.

Smith said it was important at this point of the season to start building cohesion heading into a round one matchup with Collingwood on March 24.

“We started off a bit later coming into our pre-season, so things took a little bit longer and we had a few players missing in the first few (games), but it’s good to get a good strong team back together and prepare for round one,” he said.

Smith said he has “enjoyed” his first pre-season in four years after a long injury history, which has seen him rupture the anterior cruciate ligament in his knee three times during his career.

“It’s nice to get a full block and prepare my body for a full season of footy,” Smith said.

“It’s been enjoyable, which is a weird comment to make about the pre-season. I was a little bit sore in the back last week but I pulled up fine and I’m just looking forward to the season ahead.”

He said he would provide all the assistance possible to teammate Roarke Smith after the rookie tore his ACL for the second time in his short career against the Lions.

“I spoke to him again last night and just checked in on him. I’ll probably go back out and see him out in Sunbury when we get back from Gold Coast and take him some nice food,” Smith said.

“There’s not a whole lot you can say but you’ve just got to put some love and support around him and keep him in as healthier frame of mind as you can.

“You know you can get back, it’s just getting through that time.”

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