#m. duncan ▸ 〈 int. 〉

[mythous]

❝ i don’t want to be without you. ❞ for marcus and this is what happens when you're difficult @eposerta // memes // always accepting

BREATH  COMES  IN  RAGGED  BURSTS   —dragging  painfully  up  his  throat  as  though  it  has  to  claw  its  way  out,   like  it  takes  every  ounce  of  energy  just  to  keep  the  air  flowing  through  his  lungs.  something  about  her  words  hurts  worse  than  the  burning  pain  that  radiates  through  him  and  marcus  wants  to  fold  ren  into  his  arms  and  remind  her  over  and  over  again  that  they’re  going  to  be  okay,  that  they’re  going  to  make  it.   

well,  at  least  one  of  them  will,   and  she’s  the  only  one  that  matters  now.

          ❝  i  don’t  want  to  be  without  you,  either.  ❞    it’s  barely  a  whisper,  strained  with  effort  and  saturated  in  pain.   he  can  only  hope  his  eyes  might  convey  all  the  words  of  adoration  he  never  had  time  to  speak.  but  then,  even  if  they’d  had  a  hundred  years  together,  it  wouldn’t  have  been  enough.  

a  trembling  hand  reaches  for  her,  fingers  spasming  as  he  tries  to  press  them  to  her  skin.  it’s  agony   —   this  effort  —   and  yet  a  soft  smile  finds  its  way  to  his  lips  as  he  barely  grazes  her  cheek.   ❝  you  can  do  this,  ren   —   you’re  so  much  stronger  than  you  know.  ❞    voice  quavering  with  emotion,  he  presses  on,  determined.  because  she  is  strong,  kinder  than  he  ever  deserved,  too  good  for  the  people  of  this  place,   of  this  world.   the  short  laugh  he  lets  out  is  wet  with  emotion  and  something  else  telling  the  end  of  his  waking  moments,  but  somehow  he  finds  her  hand  and  squeezes  it  tightly.    

          ❝  you  know   —  ❞    shallow  breaths  carry  marcus  through,   because  he  cannot  leave  her  until  she  knows  how  much  she’s  changed  his  life  —  changed  him   —   for  the  better.   ❝  —  i  don’t  think  i  even  realized  i  was  living  in  the  dark,  ❞    another  quick  squeeze  and  a  cough  takes  over. (  he  does  his  best  to  ignore  the  way  it  leaves  his  other  hand  stained  red  ) ❝  and  then  you  smiled  at  me,  and  it  was  like  the  sun  shined  for  the  first  time.  ❞    and  that’s  what  he  focuses  on   —   not  the  sorrow  in  her  eyes  or  the  plea  in  her  voice,   not  the  way  the  pain  turns  numb,  or  the  air  around  him  turns  cold   —   just  the  brightest  light  in  his  life,  and  the  warmth  that  comforts  him  as  his  eyes  lose  focus  and  his  hand  falls  away  from  hers.

[mythous]

WARM  REASSURANCE  GIVES  WAY  TO  THE  CHILL  OF  REALITY    ——a  crack  in  his  optimism,  of  sorts.  marcus  meets  ren’s  gaze,  her  words,  with  a  spark  of  frustration  that  filters  its  way  through  that  crack,  fed  by  her  what-ifs.  

                 ❝  if  you  hadn't  left  ?  ❞    his  voice  doesn’t  rise,  but  it  does  come  out  sharper  than  before    —    an  echo  of  another  time,  a  time  when  his  concern  for  the  constant  bruises  on  her  skin  had  shook  him  from  his  duty,   shifted  his  focus  from  good  soldier  following  orders,  to  a  man  determined  to  set  her  free.  she  is  where  is  loyalties  lie  now,  and  marcus  doesn’t  know  what  it’ll  take  to  show  her  everything  that  equinox  had  tried  to  take  from  her    —    to  show  her  that  there’s  no  such  thing  as  freedom  under  their  thumb.      ❝  none  of  this  would  have  happened  ?    ❞    he  knows  he  sounds  ridiculous,  repeating  every  sentence,  lilting  a  little  higher  at  the  end  like  a  parrot  with  too  many  questions.     ❝  ren,  think  about  what  you're  saying.  if  you  had  stayed,  it  would  have  been  the  end  of  you.  ❞

maybe  not  physically,  maybe  not  at  first.  but  even  if  they  didn’t  destroy  her  body,  how  could  anyone  withstand  that  kind  of  treatment  for  a  prolonged  period  of  time?  sometimes  he  wants  to  grab  onto  her  and  shake    —    shake  some  sense  into  her,  shake  this  misguided  trust  (  or  whatever  it  is  )  out  of  her.    he  knows,  logically,  that  she  needs  to  see  it  all  for  herself,  to  get  there  when  she’s  ready.    but  she  says  things  like  this  and  marcus  feels  like  he’s  on  the  verge  of  losing  her.    

his  hands  frame  her  face,  firmer  this  time,  demanding  attention  with  his  touch.  he  can  feel  the  wideness  of  his  eyes  and  thinks  fleetingly  that  he  probably  looks  like  a  madman    —    bloodstained  clothes,  sweat-soaked  brow,  clinging  to  her  as  though  he  can  make  her  see  through  his  touch  alone.        

              ❝  you  were  in  a  prison,  not  just  physically,  but  everything  they  were  doing  to  you,  all  that  they  had  planned    —    it  was  a  death  sentence,  one  way  or  another.  ❞    his  thumbs  skim  her  cheeks,  tracing  the  trails  of  past  tears.  it  wrecks  him,  seeing  her  like  this,  seeing  her  looking  so  lost  —  so  sad.     ❝  we  didn’t  just  run  to  escape;  we  ran  because  it  was  survival,  yours  and  mine.  ❞      he  breathes,  forcing  his  voice  to  soften,  despite  the  unyielding  words,   carved  from  the  truth  of  their  situation    —    of  her  existence.    ❝  every  second  we're  still  breathing    —    every  moment  we  can  still  fight,  it’s  because  you  had  the  courage  to  leave,    to  trust  me.  ❞

he  hopes,  at  least,  that  she  still  trusts  him  after  all  of  this,  he’d  take  out  every  single  soldier  under  equinox’s  rule  ten  times  over  if  it  means  she’ll  be  safe    —    another  ten  times  over  if  it  means  she’ll  keep  looking  at  him  like  he’s  something  to  be  treasured   —  like  he  matters.     ❝  it's  not  about  what  you  are  or  aren't.  it's  about  who  you  are,  and    —    ❞    he  chuckles  a  little,  and  the  sound  seems  strange  hanging  the  the  midst  of  such  a  heavy  conversation,  but  marcus  can’t  help  it.      ❝    —    and  who  you  are  to  me  is  the  reason  i’m  still  here.    ❞      still  fighting,  sure,  but  also  still  here,  literally.  she  saved  his  life,  and  he’ll  spend  every  day  of  the  rest  of  it  making  sure  she  knows  how  grateful  he  is  to  still  be  standing  by  her  side    —    if  she  lets  him.  

before  he  can  speak  that  out  loud,  her  lips  are  soft  against  his,  and  all  marcus  wants  to  do  is  exist  in  the  moment,  this  kiss,  and  a  hundred  more  after  it.  there’s  a  desperation  that  calls  to  him  that  he  can’t  let  himself  answer    —    not  in  this  moment,  not  with  words  unsaid    (  not  with  drying  blood  and  uncertain  surroundings  ).  he  pulls  back  just  enough  to  speak,  words  pressed  against  her  lips  for  the  lack  of  space  he  allows  between  them.  

                                ❝    i  can’t  promise  you  that,    ❞      soft,  a  whisper,  maybe  just  a  breath.  he  doesn’t  want  to  tear  things  back  down  to  the  negative,  but  they  are  still  being  hunted,  after  all.    ❝    but  i  can  promise  that  i’ll  never  leave  you  alone  if  i  can  help  it.    ❞ // @eposerta

PERHAPS  SHE  SHOULD  HAVE  VOICED  HER  THOUGHTS  to  the  pillow  ,  screamed  into  it  ,  beat  the  hell  out  of  it  until  the  feathers  began  to  fly  out  .  that  would  be  a  better  conversation  than  the  one  that  renata’s  having  at  present  ,  because  marcus  ?  he’s  being  marcus  ,  putting  her  on  a  pedestal  that  she  clearly  doesn’t  belong  on  ,  holding  onto  her  hands  as  if  he’s  afraid  that  she’ll  bolt  the  second  that  she  gets  the  chance  (  and  she’s  thought  about  it  –  mapping  out  a  plan  that  would  likely  never  work  )  and  she  ends  up  in  stunned  silence  to  his  words  .  he  threads  everything  so  positively  ,  a  way  that  in  the  current  situation  she  could  never  understand  ,  not  now  anyway  .  perhaps  if  the  roles  had  been  reversed  ,  she  would  be  saying  the  same  as  he  is  . ❛    if  i  hadn’t  left  —  none  of  this  would  have  happened  at  all  .        ❜  she  changes  the  tone  of  where  she  stood  before  ,  but  marcus  had  become  everything  to  her  ,  so  quickly  ,  every  word  spoken  had  become  some  form  of  gospel  and  everything  had  happened  so  fast  they  were  left  with  no  choice  but  to  run  .  now  ?  now  she’s  had  time  to  think  ,  too  much  time  ,  she  would  argue  and  now  all  that  she  can  think  of  is  how  she  should  have  bought  him  time  to  flee  ,  stayed  behind  in  hopes  that  he  would  have  made  it  safe  and  sound  -  while  she  remained  under  equinox’s  thumb  .  

❛    marcus  —  i  don’t  know  what  everyone  thinks  i  am  ,  but  i’m  not  .  when  you  realize  that  …  just  promise  me  you  won’t  be  disappointed  .      ❜ yet  he  thanks  her  as  her  soul  spills  ,  silent  pleas  for  him  to  stop  ,  anger  not  directed  at  him  boiling  and  questions  that  would  never  have  arisen  had  the  past  few  chaotic  nights  not left  her  with  so  many  .  his  lips  upon  her  cheek  are  meant  to  offer  solace  in  a  dark  time  ,  and  she’s  frozen  for  a  moment  too  long  before  her  hand  raises  to  brush  through  his  hair  as  if  to  hold  him  in  place  .  something  as  simple  as  his  breath  against  her  skin  a  reminder  that  he  is  alive  and  not  just  some  hallucination  her  mind  had  cooked  up  to  help  her  deal  with  the  trauma  . ❛      don’t  thank  me  —      ❜  voice  dropping  to  a  trembling  whisper  ,  she’s  lost  hope  and  understanding  all  at  once  ,  and  she’d  almost  lost  him  ,  the  only  thing  that  made  sense  beyond  all  of  this  chaos  and  now  all  ren  can  think  about  is  how  she  wants  to  get  lost  in  him  instead  .  a  means  to  bury  the  emotions  turning  into  a  whirlpool  .  the  fear  and  uncertainty  should  be  shoved  down  for  another  time  ,  shouldn’t  it  ?  he’s  alive  and  standing  before  her  and  all  she  can  do  is  sit  in  a  bubble  of  self  pity  as  opposed  to  thanking  whatever  powers  that  be  that  helped  him  pull  through  .    because  whatever  it  was  …  it  wasn’t  her  .

she  lacks  his  fortitude  ,  the  near  ferocity  in  which  he  defends  his  own  words  ,  his  everything  .  could  she  ever  be  like  him  ?  the  answer  is  a  resounding  no  ,  but  ren  is  capable  of  many  things  on  her  own  ,  and  putting  on  the  mask  of  bravery  for  the  sake  of  what  she  believes  is  the  greater  good  happens  to  be  at  the  top  of  the  list  .  

  ❛    look  at  me  ,        ❜    her  tone  more  defiant  now  ,  her  hand  guiding  him  so  they  are  face  to  face  while  the  other  mirrors  the  opposite  side  ,  she  offers  a  look  beyond  the  tear  stricken  ,  red  and  swollen  eyes  to  that  of  truth  .  ❛    don’t  ever  do  that  again  ,  i  can’t  …        ❜ 

she’s  weak  ,  she  can’t  handle  it  ,  she’ll  break  ,  the  world  will  lose  one  of  the  best  people  she’s  ever  known    

❛    i  won’t  lose  you  .      ❜ there  isn’t  room  for  him  to  argue  ,  barely  any  space  for  him  to  balk  at  her  declaration  as  foreheads  press  together  in  a  way  to  make  him  hear  those  words  ,  so she  leans  in  .  this  time  her  lips  don’t  meet  the  corner  of  his  mouth  ,  or  copy  the  way  his  had  pressed  against  her  cheek  ,  but  allows  them  to  meet  fully  ,  in  a  soft  but  pleading  way  to  solidify  everything she had to say  .

[tekhne]

HE’S  TRYING  TO  MAKE  AN  EFFORT   ------to  come  around  more,   to  be  there  for  milo  more.   now  that  he’s  got  some  free  time  ( though  no  one  really  told  him  how  time  consuming  playing  babysitter  would  be ),  at  least,  he  can  make  that  effort.

but  it’s  hard  ---  has  been  hard  ---  being  home,  ever  since  losing  their  mom.

          ❝  how’s  it  going  ?  ❞    he  has  to  make  an  effort  not  to  tack  a  kid  onto  the  end  of  that  question.   they’re  not  kids  anymore,   haven’t  been  in  a  while.   marcus  sighs,   already  dreading  the  next  question  from  his  mouth.    ❝  dad  doing  okay  ?  ❞    he  is  trying  to  make  an  effort,   he  is.   but  he  can’t  bear  to  see  the  remnants  of  the  man  who  used  to  be  their  father.   

♡  ╲╲ …  @compluras​     ›    ​m.  duncan

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Tues[day] 11 October 1836

8 35/..

11 40/..

V

L

No kiss rain[e]d ver[y] m[u]ch in the night - damp rainy morn[in]g - and F[ahrenheit] 50° now at 9 35/.. br[eak]f[a]st at 9 50/..  

A- [Ann] r[ea]d a lit[tl]e Fr[en]ch – H[a]d Mr. Duncan the und[er]tak[e]r at 11 – ga[ve] the necess[ar]y direct[io]ns for my a[un]t’s fun[era]l

at 9 a.m. next Mon[da]y - the Sexton to co[me] up – Greenw[oo]d to ma[ke] the coffin - Mrs. Lawson to ma[ke]

the lead d[itt]o – s[ai]d I w[a]s dissatisf[ie]d with the cl[o]th chos[e]n for the f[oo]tman and groom - Duncan own[e]d it w[a]s

too good – s[ai]d he us[uall]y ga[ve] broad c[l]oth fr[om] 14/. to 16/. p[e]r y[ar]d – wh[a]t I chose (bec[ause] no oth[e]r patterns s[e]nt and suppose[e]d

he h[a]d no oth[e]r) 22/. p[e]r y[ar]d – s[ai]d I h[a]d told Mr. Jackson I d[i]d n[o]t wish to pay mo[re] than £4.10.0 p[e]r

f[oo]tman’s dress suit and £3.10.0 p[e]r undress d[itt]o - Mr. D- [Duncan] s[ai]d the clothes ord[ere]d w[oul]d exceed this b[u]t

he w[oul]d ma[ke] wh[a]t sacrifice he c[oul]d! - then sat w[i]th A- [Ann] on tell[in]g Mr. D- [Duncan] to invite the vic[a]r he

s[ai]d he w[a]s n[o]t at ho[me] - I then told h[i]m (D- [Duncan]) to invite the cur[a]te – talk[e]d ov[e]r to A- [Ann] the propriety

of my writ[in]g to the vic[a]r and ask[in]g h[i]m to co[me] ov[e]r – h[a]d just writ[ten] so far of today at 12 25/.. –

at w[hi]ch h[ou]r fair aft[e]r ver[y] rainy and bet[ween] 10 and 11 boist[erousl]y windy morn[in]g - a sort of hurricane for ab[ou]t

1/4 h[ou]r dur[in]g br[eak]f[a]st – wr[ote] out list of people to ha[ve] gloves and biscuits - Long whi[le] seek[in]g (w[i]th A- [Ann]) in vain h[e]r [?] of the Fr[en]ch secrétaire screen –

then walk[e]d w[i]th h[e]r 25 min[ute]s on the flags – Mr. Harper ca[me] ab[ou]t 3 1/2 and w[i]th h[i]m in an out ab[ou]t

an h[ou]r – ment[ione]d my intent[io]n of gett[in]g off fr[om] here as soon as I c[oul]d, and propos[e]d hav[in]g Mr.

and Mrs. Husb[an]d in the h[ou]se - H- [Harper] th[ou]ght this plan good - will find out for me wh[a]t addit[io]n I sh[oul]d

ma[ke] to Mr. Husb[an]ds’ sal[ar]y on this acc[oun]t – Expl[aine]d ab[ou]t the hall ceil[in]g – can[no]t turn the gr[ou]nd floor

of the East tow[e]r into 2 floors temp[orar]y w[i]thout incurr[in]g too m[u]ch troub[le] hereaft[e]r b[u]t c[oul]d eas[il]y

ma[ke] the gr[ou]nd floor int[o] a kitchen - approves of my 2 dry arches – d[i]d n[o]t like the idea of a

large sq[uare] tow[e]r for the hay on the east side of the farm y[ar]d b[u]t well propos[e]d 2 octagon-like dry wall tow[e]rs

up ag[ain]st the n[o]rth wall of the farmy[ar]d - these will do ver[y] well - look ver[y] well and be ver[y] conven[ien]t –

ment[ione]d leav[in]g him (Mr. Harper) to ov[er]look Husb[an]d’s paym[en]ts of workmen of all sorts includ[in]g

colliers - no tidings of Mr. Gray - H- [Harper] th[in]ks if he does n[o]t co[me] we can do w[i]thout him –

m[u]ch to do at N[orth]gate - will be here all tomor[row] and till Thurs[day] ev[enin]g – ask[e]d wh[a]t rent I sh[oul]d

get for the mill – surpris[e]d when I said how m[u]ch and so m[u]ch – begg[e]d h[i]m n[o]t to ment[io]n it –

he s[ai]d the mill and machin[er]y w[oul]d cost £1000 – calculat[e]d there w[oul]d be ab[ou]t 400 roods

of dry wall[in]g in my octagon tow[e]r hay-barns - I s[ai]d I th[ou]ght the wall[in]g w[oul]d be done for 6/. a r[oo]d –

40x6 = 240/20= £12 and suppos[in]g roof[in]g as m[u]ch more = £24 say £30 to £40? for a

gr[ea]t deal of conven[ie]nce - approves my plan of palisading off the upp[e]r and low[e]r p[ar]ts of the farmy[ar]d

leav[in]g the c[oa]ch h[ou]se open, and driv[in]g thro’ it as one does in the n[or]th of Germ[an]y – Look[in]g for pap[e]rs

respect[in]g my unc[le]s’ fun[era]l - in vain – b[u]t f[ou]nd the mem[oran]dum of my giv[in]g ER-‘s [Eliza Raine] will to Mr. Duffin

in the pres[en]ce of Mr. Jon[atha]n Gray    June 1826- din[ner] at 7 in 25 min[ute]s and then hurr[ie]d upst[ai]rs to wr[ite] to

Mr. Musgrave and wr[ote] and s[e]nt this ev[enin]g as foll[ow]s to ‘the Rev[eren]d Charles Musgrave Whitkirk vicarage

near Leeds’   ‘Shibd[e]n hall – Tues[day] 11 Oct[obe]r 1836 my d[ea]r sir – Rememb[eri]ng w[i]th gratitude your ver[y] kind

‘attent[io]ns to my a[un]t dur[in]g the few last years of her long and painful illness, and qu[ite] sure wh[a]t the express[io]n

234

1836

Oct[obe]r

N

‘of her own feel[in]g w[oul]d ha[ve] been, h[a]d she left any direct[io]ns up[on] the subj[ec]t, I hope that, sh[oul]d no

‘partic[ula]r engagem[en]t put it out of your pow[e]r, you will co[me] ov[e]r to her fun[era]l - your do[in]g so,

‘will aff[or]d me a melanch[ol]y satisfact[io]n - Mr. Duncan h[a]s been instruct[e]d to invite your

‘officiat[in]g curate, and to ma[ke] the necess[ar]y arrangem[en]ts for nine on Monday morn[in]g; b[u]t, if this

‘h[ou]r sh[oul]d be inconven[ien]t to you, a lat[e]r shall be fix[e]d - Miss Walker begs you to pres[en]t her

‘k[i]nd reg[ar]ds along w[i]th my own, to Mr. Musgrave – Bel[ieve] me ver[y] truly yours A. [Anne] Lister’ – coff[ee]

at 7 40/..  - A- [Ann] r[ea]d Fr[en]ch and we look[e]d ov[e]r genealog[ica]l map of Sweden and Denmark - then till

9 35/.. wr[ote] the last 31 1/2 lines of today - when the let[ter] bag ca[me] – no[te] fr[om] Mrs. Veitch of

condol[en]ce - Mrs. V- [Veitch] h[a]s just lost h[e]r sist[e]r Ann who liv[e]d at Giggleswick - Rainy stormy

windy morn[in]g (a sort of hurricane bet[ween] 10 and 11) b[u]t fair (w[i]th the exc[ept] of a few fly[in]g dr[ops] now and then)

in the aft[ernoo]n fr[om] ab[ou]t 2 p.m. F[ahrenheit] 46 1/2° now at 10 3/4 p.m.

[hound-bandit]

Billy The Kid’s Story Time

“. . . What? M’ life story ain’t good ‘nough? Y’ wanna know more...? Tch. Fine. I’ll tell y’ ‘bout how I evolved int’ Houndito in more detail then. Don’t say I didn’ warn ya.”

The Ruffraff let out a yawn as the light of the sun touched his closed his eyes, alerting him that it was morning the next day. Though he was a bit tired, he knew exactly what this meant! It was time to train with his trainer. Sure, their relationship didn’t start out... Great, but, hey. He fed him, gave him plenty of care, and clearly loved him. So, who cares if the training was tiring and the kid was clearly inexperienced? If it gave him the chance to impress him, make him cheer out his name, let him love him, then he’d clearly stand up to the challenge!  The sliding door was heard opening, and with that, the Pokemon stood to his feet in his dog house. Stretching his front paws, then his hind, he let out another yawn as he heard his trainer call out to him. “RUFFY! RUFFY! COME ON, BOY! IT’S TIME TO TRAIN!” With a scratch behind one ear, the Pokemon trotted out of his Dog House into the well tended back yard of his trainer’s house. It sprinkled last night- Ruffy was scared that night, but he knew they wouldn’t abandon him in that house. The trainer’s face lit up when he saw his Ruffraff approach, before he grabbed some empty cans from the back porch.  “Target practice time, Ruffy! You ready?” He asked. With an excited bark, Ruffy grabbed the Popgun from his hip, ready to fire when instructed. His trainer let out a chuckle, before tossing one of the cans up into the air. With lightning fast reflexes and precise aiming, the can was shot mid air, denting it as it fell to the ground. With a cheer from his trainer, Ruffraff sat down, chest out, a proud smirk on his face. “Two this time!” Opening his eyes, the Pokemon stood at attention.  The training continued on. The cans quickly gave way to agility tests- Running through a self made obstacle course, trying not to knock anything over. Stuff like that- Stuff that could train the Ruffraff without actually getting into battles. 

“Duncan!” His mother yelled out from inside the house- She was probably making breakfast, or so the Pokemon figured. “I keep telling you, Duncan, if you want your Ruffraff to become a Sheruff, you need to train him in the city!” Ruffraff didn’t know what that mean. He was too young to really understand what that was implying- He just knew that she was looking out for his trainer, and that was alright with him. “Yeah, yeah, I know!” His trainer yelled back, before turning his attention back to Ruffy.  “You’re not anywhere close to evolving though, right, boy?” The Trainer patted the Ruffraff’s head, to which he let out an affirmative bark- Or, at least, that’s what the Trainer thought Ruffy said. In reality, Ruffy had no idea when he was going to evolve, nor does he really know what it meant. But, if it made him happy, then he’d get to it! “Right, let’s go Ruffy! A few more cans and laps, and we should be good for this morning!” The Trainer let out a ‘woop!’ before he pumped his fist to the sky. With a bark, the Ruffraff ran around in a circle excitedly.  It was after the fourth round of can shooting that Ruffy began to feel... Strange. It was like a well of power in the pit of his stomach began to grow and expand. His skin began to glow. He let out a happy bark- He wasn’t scared, though he should’ve been. Ruffy then felt his body began to change, engulfed in the light- It wasn’t long until his front paws began to change into hands, and he lifted himself off the ground. His hind paws were now supporting his entire body, as a hat appeared atop his head.  When it finally subsided, Ruffy was no longer a Ruffraff. No, a Houndito stood where he once was. Twirling the twin popguns he gained, he let out a happy, proud chuckle as he holstered them, before looking to his trainer. Though he expected a happy face at his progress... The only thing Ruffy saw was a look of both fear, revulsion, and disappointment. “M-Mom! Mom! Ruffy evolved! He... He evolved!” It didn’t take long for his parents to run out to the back. He thought maybe their faces would be different. Ruffy was wrong. They all bore the same, disappointed face his trainer held. With an annoyed huff, his father put his hands on his hips. “Well, we can’t take care of this... You know me and your mother told you over and over again-” “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Why was his trainer crying? Was he hurt? He didn’t understand.  With a sigh, his mother grabbed her phone. “I’ll see who wants him.” Wants... Ruffy? Who’d want him, he already belonged to them! “Just make sure he doesn’t come in the house. He might wreck something, dear.” She mentioned to his trainers father, who nodded. Running back inside, the trainer’s father quickly came back outside with a leash. Attaching it around his neck, he was quickly led to his dog house. Ruffy was then attached to the back of the house. Letting out a deepened, fearful yip, he tried to escape his binding, but couldn’t. He then quickly found his water bowl and food bowl moved out to the inside of the Dog House, as well. And, all the while, Ruffy couldn’t help but wonder what he had done wrong.

[thetradeway]

Session 39 3 Apr 2021: If we were to go and look over the balcony we would see Ahleqs doing the robot

Right, so Carl is dead and Tarragon has been brought back to life. We took a long rest at the end of last session, so she only has a -3 penalty to attacks, saves and ability checks. The penalty reduces by one each time she finishes a long rest.

We are somewhat dismayed to find Zorya on the board with us (my level 12 halfling rogue from our other campaign). Mina demands to know why she wasn’t helping us in the fight with the flesh ripper. Joe has been helping me do Roll20 stuff for a little upcoming mini campaign of mine…

We spend a few minutes waiting for the people to level up who didn’t do it last week. Sophie is delighted to get 8 more HP, and the Woundbind spell at last. She spends some time picking fun new spells!

Duncan has decided not to take a level in rogue in spite of the fact that hiding is very in character for him; “It doesn’t work for me.”

Ed is snacking and will join us in a few minutes.

Duncan doesn’t recommend eating at Taco Bell; he says they gave him a ‘bready tube wrapped around a grey paste with the occasional lump’. There follows a discussion about various instances of food poisoning which I will not document.

Sophie posts a link to a Standard story about a lamp post.

It’s all kicking off in Tetbury.

Is everyone levelled up and ready? We decide not to wait for Ed. Then we waffle until he turns up anyway.

Brother Charity has been doing some sort of ritual for Carl - he lights candles around his body and prays, then goes to bed.

Everyone but Ahleqs spots that Tarragon is now marked with a scar. (She is concussed as well, on top of her penalty for being resurrected.)

Upon waking, they all have a little poke at the stuff in the sewer. Tarragon doesn’t poke; she would prefer to keep resting for now. Kessler makes a check with her Alchemist tools, and with an 18 she retrieves some teeth and spines from the flesh-ripper, and immediately gives them to Gideon.

Gideon thinks it might be a good idea to bring some of the flesh-ripper with us, to feed the Otyugh that attacked us on the way down here. There is some discussion of perhaps finding a way to use bits of the corpse to sort out the Mirt problem as well. (Put one of the heads in his bed…?)

We move on and find ourselves in a different part of the sewer. To our surprise, Brother Carl joins us. But - he was dead…? Ahleqs pokes him a bit. He feels squishy like a real human body…

It’s wet here and we hear the sound of frogs. Kessler decides to hold out some rations to them. She sees that the pond they are in is full of frogspawn. Do they get territorial when spawning…?

Kessler rolls a nat 1 nature check and decides to press ahead with offering the rations. Kessler the Frog Whisperer rolls 11 Animal Handling and manages to piss it off.

The frog tries to bite her, but misses - we roll initiative. Gideon thinks maybe we should turn back and try another way; these frogs are a bit bitey.

Melaina goes first. She tries a spell and casts Sleep on the aggressive frog. (With her Sharpshooter active. Gideon:  “You’re trying to put it to sleep - permanently!”) It doesn’t work as the frog has too many HP. Bugger.

Gideon has a go - he’s not sure what he wants to do. He proposes that we turn around and try another route. What about Kessler? “She can back away too! Let’s just wish them a good day and leave.”

Carl looks at Gideon who is backing away, and holds an action.

Tarragon backs up and takes the dodge action; we are the intruders here, let’s leave these guys alone.

If Ahleqs had Prestidigitation he could change Kessler’s flavour to make her taste horrible to the frogs. “She’s already quite bitter… I’ve been waiting to make that joke since the start of combat, I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

He makes an Insight check; he thinks that if he was in his bedroom with his choice of night time companion and someone burst in, with snacks or otherwise, he’d probably be quite cross. He too thinks we should back up and leave. He readies a spell just in case - he plumps for Minor Illusion.

Kessler is up. She uses Nimble Escape to Disengage as a bonus action. For her action she throws the rations she was holding for the angry frog. She would throw Gideon too if she could, he’d make a good snack for some frogs.

Ahleqs: “Are you saying Gideon is a snack? I ship it.”

Brother Charity holds an action to defend Carl, should the frog advance.

Melaina backs up and holds an action in case the frog gets nasty. We are all now backing up away from the frogs.

Ahleqs rolls Animal Handling as he has +3, and Kessler adds her Flash of Genius INT modifier as a reaction - but he rolls a nat 1. He can re-roll that if he Bends Luck - oh, no he can’t. DM ruling? He rolls again - and it’s another nat 1. He insults their frogspawn.

He manages to lead us back away from the frogs and back to the sewer. Are we still trusting Kessler with the map? Apparently so. She makes an INT check and rolls a 9. “We’re gonna be down here for a while guys.”

Ahelqs: “That’s okay, we’re getting all the side quests out of the way.”

There’s an awful lot of buggering about. Ed: “We starve to death in the sewer. Good session guys.”

No, Kessler finally finds her sewer legs and rolls at advantage like she should have been doing this whole time, and we find our way back to the Dagger. Shanks is waiting for us. She looks at us, covered in gore, and asks how it went; we don’t want to talk about it.

We’ve been gone two or three days. Is it dead?

We show her the giblets. “Yeah.”

Shanks points. “What’s that horrible thing with all the icky stuff coming out of it?”

Kessler: “That’s Gideon.”

Shanks asks what the flesh-ripper actually was. We make nature checks (Duncan makes a beer check first: “Ah, natural twenty.”) Gideon and Melaina saw how the flesh-ripper regenerated when we didn’t hit it with fire, so they tell her it was probably some kind of horribly deformed troll.

Shanks says that since it’s dead and the area is safe now, she and her people will look at fixing the place up. Gideon mentions the Otyugh; perhaps it will make a good guard monster? Just be sure to take a pork chop with you when you go down. And watch your toes.

Shanks says she will alert the scouts to its nature and position.

We can go back up into the Dagger for baths and food and alcohol.

Brother Charity has a proposition - he wrote to Mirt to invite him to dinner to discuss the issue with the spell (where he Charmed Mirt to make him stop asking about the unicorn statue and go away). There is a lot of waffle, everyone is talking at once so I don’t hear the end of Matthew’s proposition.

Before we head upstairs, Charity says that Mirt may have misinterpreted the letter and be waiting upstairs for us. Rather than land us all in it, (he did try to focus the blame on himself) he wants to go up with Carl while we wait down here and see if Mirt is in the Dagger. We could escape…?

Tarragon rolls a nat20 Insight check on Brother “Dodgy” Charity. She is extremely distrustful of Charity now. Gideon suggests just going with him anyway, but Tarragon pipes up to say she thinks we should let him go.

Is he going to sneak up? No, he and Carl intend to just waltz on in. We decide to stay put but send Melaina to eavesdrop. She rolls a nat 1 Stealth for 11 total. Kessler adds Flash of Genius again to make the just-fail a success.

Charity and Carl ascend the ladder, unaware that Melaina is following.

Charity and Carl meet up with Cass, who is in the cellar of the Dagger. He asks if the letter got to Mirt. She says yes it did. He rolls 11 Insight; she seems to be telling the truth.

She asks about the rest of us - he says she should go and say hi, and heads on up into the Dagger proper with Carl in tow.

Now that they’re gone, Tarragon has a word with the others and tells them what she knows about Charity’s magic - he’s not casting Divine magic like a Cleric or a Paladin should. We all agree that we don’t trust him as far as we could spit a rat, and none of us are sure exactly what Carl is.

Did he feel warm when Ahleqs poked him? Hard to tell through the robes, but he felt… human-y.

Kessler suggests maybe casting some healing magic on Carl. What would that do if he was undead…?

Or we could just sneak under the table and set his robe on fire. We start to scheme a plan to try and find out what Carl is, and maybe somehow to smoke Brother Charity out. And what sort of name is ‘Ardvack Darkspire’, anyway?

So we just kill him, yeah? Can’t be too careful.

Cass enters the cellar, asks us where we’ve been and why we stink.

Tarragon, proudly: “I died.”

We go up into the Dagger, where Cass has prepared hot baths and food for us. Ahleqs skims the chunks of gore off the top of his bathwater. (Ed suggests ‘the Wayfarers’ Colander’ as a purchasable item.)

Popcorn rushes in while Tarragon is in the bath, delighted to see her. She picks him up and puts him in with her and they splash about happily for a while. 

The Brothers have Prestidigitationed, so they are in the taproom waiting for food at our usual table. Mirt didn’t send a reply to Charity’s letter; he considers going to pay him a visit.

The rest of us arrive at our table. Kessler decides to cast Identify on Carl while Ahleqs distracts Brother Charity.

The door to the Dagger blows open - a swarm of folded paper cranes sweep in. One lands in each of our hands. When we unfold them, they are revealed as invitations to dinner, signed -M.

Mirt, presumably.

Kessler goes ahead with her Identify spell in spite of the odd interruption. DM asks Matthew what the result is of the Identify spell; Mina puts it in the chat for him to read.

Carl does not require attunement, but Matthew thinks Kessler ought to have bought him dinner first, Jesus. The spell takes a minute to cast, is she really going to spend a whole minute touching Carl? She only needs a foot touching his under the table. (Duncan can hear Matthew looking for a loophole.)

Does Carl notice the spell being cast on him? She rolls Stealth vs. Carl’s Passive Perception - a 9. What is Carl’s PP?

9.

Ah.

Joe would normally rule that Carl notices, in this case. But all she has to do is hold on to him for one minute…

There follows something of a scuffle. Carl tries to bat her hand away but she tells him there’s a splinter in his leg that she was trying to get out for him. Ahleqs casts a Minor Illusion of a scorpion on Carl’s leg, giving her ADV on her Deception check. Carl rolls Insight - “He’s the tits at this - ” but rolls a 3. He believes she is trying to swat the scorpion off his leg.

Charity makes a Perception check to see if he notices what’s going on - he rolls an 8, so he does not. He defends himself against Ahleqs’ accusations of abandoning us in the cellar. He sent Cass down to get us! He was just checking to see if Mirt was here!

Ahleqs: “Be more of a team player.”

Ahleqs asks him outright what Carl is; Charity tells him he’s his travelling companion. An odd and evasive answer.

Ahleqs says Charity hasn’t been especially forthcoming about who he is and what he’s doing. Charity says we weren’t especially welcoming.

Ahleqs: “We’re not charming, but at least we’re honest! We were just starting to come around to the idea of them! Yes they’re mysterious and shady and what the fuck is Carl, but - ”

And so on, while Kessler casts her spell. She knows what spells if any are currently affecting Carl - Matthew texts something to Mina. Upon reading this, Kessler backs away and runs straight for her armour and climbs inside, locking all the hatches and arming both the Lightning Launchers.

Oh fuck…!

Gideon asks what’s going on, and gives Charity a bit of a side eye.

The doors open again and a smartly dressed man comes in with a bundle in his arms. He sees us and approaches, ignoring the squabble above the table and the scuffle below it. “Formal wear for this evening.” He places the bundle on the table and leaves.

Ahleqs asks about his family name; Charity says his family used to own a manor house with a large dark spire. Nothing untoward.

If Ahleqs were to ask around the surrounding villages…? What would the inhabitants think? We don’t mind that he’s a horrid privileged posh boy, but is he raising corpses to do his fell bidding is what we’re really asking here. (He, I notice, doesn’t actually answer that question.)

Gideon puts his oar in. We all know what one another’s angle is, but none of us know what Charity and Carl are after. If Charity is unsure about our back stories, we can fill him in if he wants…? Ahleqs explains about Mr. Pickles, and about how sometimes he accidentally incinerates his friends, in hopes that Charity will feel inclined to share in kind.

Gideon looks out of the window to try to gauge the time; we have a dinner to get to. We need to know that Charity is on our side, at least as far as this evening.

With that, Charity divulges that it had been his intention not to drag all of us into this. He thinks his scheme might not be the most inappropriate.

What scheme?

He says he told Mirt that the rest of us couldn’t work out how to remove the statue from the maze, and was going to tell him that he had gone back and taken it afterwards without the knowledge of the rest of us. He was going to ask why Mirt wanted it and if he was aware of its true nature, and perhaps play on his emotions. (Melaina thinks that’s a stupid plan.)

Kessler re-joins us and engages sitting mode on her armour, giving Brother Charity the stink-eye.

We open the parcels - they contain fine silken evening wear. Dresses and smart suits. Kessler casts Identify again, but the only magic is traces of Prestidigitation. Tarragon’s is green, just like she’d been hoping. Kessler’s is a steel blue grey.

Kessler pulls Carl aside, and asks him if he knows that he’s dead.

Carl’s hood looks at her, and then he wanders off, following Brother Charity upstairs.

Tarragon and Ahleqs are changing into their evening wear in the bar, not having much in the way of experience with social niceties in the Big City. Kessler averts her eyes and tells us what she found out - Carl is animated dead. What kind of level 7 Cleric can do that???

Is he recently animated after the flesh-ripper killed him, or was he dead all along? How many Carls have there been?

Gideon is unbothered; necromancy might be frowned upon in polite society, but it’s just another branch of magic.

We decide that if we’re going to do anything about Carl and Charity, it will have to wait until after this evening.

The sun goes down; there is a knock at the door to the Dagger. The bar staff have been watching us with amusement and interest. A man enters the bar and tells us that our carriage awaits. Charity has left his weapons in his room - we all immediately tell him how dumb that is. Tarragon gives Ahleqs her quarterstaff to put in the Bag of Holding. All Charity has are some rings, a doctor’s bag and a book; no weapons. He’s even leaving Carl behind.

We follow the man out to the carriage and he opens the door. Ahleqs wants to know if there’s a minibar; there is not. He takes a level in disappointment.

We pile into the carriage. Are the seats comfortable? Exquisitely so. Gideon, delighted: “Ohhh!”

Ahleqs is still wondering why Charity has left his weapons behind; he announces that we do not die this day, but he does it while shaking so it’s less than convincing.

The carriage starts to move. The driver asks if we’re familiar with the Silken Sylph? No, not really. Kessler has seen the outside of it. It’s in the sea ward, and about the fanciest place in the city. It’s well out of all of our price ranges.

We’re told by the driver that it’s a great privilege to be invited, and high society etiquette is in effect. We have no idea what that is. Is there a pamphlet?

The journey is smooth and delightful, and takes us past loads of fancy mansions. We go through the sea ward and approach a huge building with marble and gold trim. The door to the carriage is opened for us and we find ourselves outside the Silken Sylph.

There are two fashionably dressed doormen who are clearly armed. They smile at us and ask our names. We give them, and Ahleqs holds out the origami bird invitation as proof that no, really, we’re supposed to be here. We’re kind of a big deal or something? Gideon nudges him and reminds him about the etiquette. Ahleqs hushes himself.

The door is opened and a noblewoman greets us and tells us to follow her. Charity does a bow. Ahleqs copies but too late, and has to scurry to catch the rest of us up.

The ballroom is like something out of a book. Most people are wearing wigs and expressions of disdain upon seeing us. Our finery is just as grand, but we are super out of place in it. Ahleqs is nervously smiling and waving. We make Perception checks and Kessler tries reading some lips.

A noblewoman passes us by with an expression of not at all concealed disgust. “Eurgh, a pig in knickers!” she says, looking at Kessler who has, it is assumed, found a way to put on her dress over her armour. Melaina, Gideon and Tarragon all hear that, but Kessler, fortunately, didn’t.

Wait - we know that some nobles like to make bets about adventurers in Blue Alley, and the outcomes of their forays into it. Has Mirt lost a bunch of money by betting against us? Is that why we’re here?

We are led past the dance floor up a flight of marble stairs to a posh dining area. Seated at the top of a large table is an equally large something that I miss because everyone is talking over Joe. We are seated, and Mirt greets Charity. He tells us to help ourselves to wine. Kessler pointedly declines everything, up to and including things she hasn’t been offered yet.

Let’s talk while we wait for dinner, Mirt suggests. Time was that an education from Candlekeep carried prestige, he goes on, looking directly at Brother Charity. Apparently the monks couldn’t teach Charity the most basic of manners.

Kessler outright states that we know about the necromancy; Brother Charity side eyes but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge. Mirt slides a piece of paper across the table - we recognise the handwriting.

Mirt

I hope this letter finds you well. I expect you are wondering why I am writing to you. Well first off I would like to express how disappointed I am in you! I expected a certain level of dishonesty from a man such as your self, but did you really think such a deception would go unnoticed? Shocking!!!

Personally I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for my actions when last we met but I think you’ll agree you left me very little choice. I mean by the gods man! I thought you used to be a rogue!! Never have I witnessed such indiscretion!!! Prattling away about such a transaction in the middle of a busy tavern with the world and his wife in earshot!!! Outrageous!!!!!

I digress, to business. Unfortunately for you those imbeciles were being truthful when they said they were unable to extract the statue. Honestly I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry at the time. It was like watching a one legged cat trying to bury excrement on a frozen pond. As luck would have it I was separated from the group for a while giving me the opportunity to return to the location of the statue, whereupon I removed it with ease. And what should I discover upon its removal? Well I think you know the answer to that Lord Walrus!!!

I hereby formally reject you offer of 250 gp in exchange for the “statue”. If you are seriously interested in acquiring said sculpture I recommend you consider an offer more befitting such a wondrous artefact.

I regret to inform you I will be away on business for the next few days or so. I will send word to you upon my return, whereupon you will book a table for two (in your name) at the Silken Sylph for that same evening. As is customary, as the potential purchaser you will pay for dinner and drinks. After we have dined and supped you will present your offer for my consideration.

Know that I have several other interested parties seeking to secure the “statue” for their own interests so I recommend you provide a compelling argument for my considering your offer.

I realise you may have some trouble coming to terms with the idea of trusting me. I will offer some reassurances nonetheless. I will arrive at the Silken Sylph unaccompanied and unarmed. You are of course, entitled to bring all the muscle you see fit provided they do not draw undue attention to our meeting. I will willingly submit to a search of my person by one of your men (to be selected by me) to provide proof that I am unarmed and lacking the holy symbol I require for the casting of spells.

If these terms are agreeable to you please leave word at the dripping dagger stating your acceptance and I will contact you by the method stipulated earlier in this correspondence.

Kind regards

B.C.

P.S. Please try to exercise a little more discretion this time.

It is the letter Charity wrote to Mirt before we went after the flesh-ripper. Mirt says that this could easily be interpreted as blackmail; especially since it’s addressed to a Lord of Waterdeep. Ohhhhh, we are in deep shit.

He says there have been crossed wires. Did we or did we not retrieve the statue?

Yes. We did.

“Where is it now?”

We don’t have it. Ahleqs explains that it was a real unicorn. Mirt knew that though, didn’t he?

He says he didn’t.

Ahleqs makes a persuasion check with Guidance to persuade Mirt that there really was a real unicorn in the statue; it’s a success.

Why didn’t we just tell him? Mirt asks. What did we think he would do?

Charity abandons all attempts at etiquette and says he thought Mirt would want to either eat it or fuck it, so we were reluctant to just hand it over. He is picking his nails with a soup spoon as he speaks.

All of us but Kessler notice that Mirt is relaxed and open. The other diners are looking at our table with disdain.

Had Mirt been aware of the real unicorn he would have released it, he says. He doesn’t understand why we didn’t tell him. Ahleqs says he was very frightened. Kessler rolls Insight to see if Mirt is telling the truth; a 12. She thinks he is.

This is all just a big misunderstanding. Thanks for dinner though. Ahleqs wants to go and have a little dance, but Mirt says we’re not done here yet.

We tell him we had something of a moral crisis, believing that he knew about the real unicorn and planned something awful for it, such as continued imprisonment. He seems to believe this. It’s sort of true.

He says he used to be an adventurer himself (until he took an arrow in the knee, yes yes, very funny) and says that we might not want this buffoon (Brother Charity) as the face of our party. We weren’t sure about him either, we tell Mirt. He’s a new hire.

Does our group have a name? Mirt asks.

Melaina: “Wee Jock and the Jockettes.” (Somewhere, Shokan flies into a rage.)

Ahleqs: “Popcorn’s Players.”  

We might get more business if we get a name, and sort out the ‘rogue elements’ in our group, Mirt tells us. Would we like an opportunity to redeem ourselves?

What sort of opportunity, Tarragon wants to know?

Are we familiar with the Harpers, Mirt asks? We roll History checks, Ed bosses his with a nat 20. Charity and Gideon explain that it’s an old organisation. They operate in shadow for the safety and betterment of realm, and work to keep magical items out of the hands of evil doers. Not dissimilar to the Emerald Enclave.

So what about them?

Mirt says he is an agent of theirs for the city of Waterdeep. We could work with them; there might be benefits for us as well.

Why should we, Melaina wants to know? She doesn’t care what Mirt thinks of us. She stares grumpily at her frock.

What sort of redemption did Mirt have in mind? Ahleqs asks.

Did the rest of us want to go and amuse ourselves? It’s really only Charity that he thinks needs to redeem himself, Mirt clarifies. He thinks Charity has hoodwinked the rest of us and is disreputable and underhanded.

Do Mirt and Charity know each other? Not personally, but he is well connected and knows Charity’s family. And also our dress sizes, for some reason.

Ahleqs turns to Charity. “Well?”

Ahleqs wants to know how deep this goes. Does Charity want our help? Charity says he will hear Mirt out if we want to go off and dance or whatever.

Tarragon and Gideon stick around, but the others go off to the bar and the dance floor.

Ahleqs goes to the ballroom where the formal dancing is. He does that special curtsy thing and hold his hand out. He’s just imitating the people he’s seeing, he has no idea what he’s doing. He approaches the closest person. There’s a fair amount of low level panic going on as he moves. He makes an Investigation check - a nat 1.

All he sees is a bunch of fancy people with big hair milling around. He just sort of tries to blend in, forgetting that you’re supposed to start with a partner. He makes a Performance check and rolls a 19! DM is impressed.

Upstairs, we hear a murmur from the ballroom. If we were to go and look over the balcony we would see Ahleqs doing the robot, but for some reason it’s going down really well with the surrounding nobles.

Kessler decides to go back to the Dagger; the doormen bow as she leaves. She checks to see if anyone is staring and puts her helmet into place. She’s going to find Brother Carl.

(Us, immediately: “oooooooooo!”)

Melaina, annoyed by the whole situation, goes to the bar. Having seen her descend from the dining area, the staff won’t charge her for drinks. A lot of them are silly, over the top, stuff floating around in them, but hey it’s free. She proceeds to go to town on the free booze.

Mirt asks again if Charity is open to redeeming himself - since he’s back from Candlekeep he will presumably be a fixture in the city.

Charity meant to ask - since Mirt mentioned his family, he asks about the manor house and the tower. What happened to them?

Mirt looks at him, then at Tarragon who is still sitting at the table, legs swinging from her chair.

Is he sure that he wants to discuss this here, Mirt asks Charity.

He follows Mirt’s gaze to look at Tarragon with a sneer. “You’re quite right. Another time then.”

Tarragon, suddenly suffering from emotional whiplash: “You bastard! I will throw down right here, don’t think for a second I won’t go Bear and end you!”

Charity ignores her and agrees to work with Mirt. Mirt slides a case across the table - Charity accepts it, maintaining eye contact. He investigates the box.

Inside is an enamelled pin with a design of a harp inside a crescent moon. It’s the emblem of the order, Mirt tells him. He will contact Charity in next few days with the details of the job, in the same manner as invitation. Do well and Mirt will let the misunderstanding with the unicorn go.

Tarragon gets up, throws her drink at Charity and leaves, just as waiters arrive with Charity’s food.

Ahleqs makes another Performance check - a 12. He will spend as many sorcery points as it takes, Duncan tells us. Some of the nobles are looking curious, now. (He’s circling back from hip and groovy to looking like a dickhead.)

(I tried to find a gif or video of that bit of the show, but to no avail sadly.)

He gets up from doing the worm and gives the finger pistols, walks to the beat toward the bar. He makes a final performance check - a 22! Nails the landing. There is a round of applause from the nobles. He follows up the finger pistols with a polite curtsy and leaves.

Kessler arrives back at the Dagger, which is heaving. She goes to Charity’s room to see what Carl is doing; he’s sitting with a book in his lap. She calls his name - he looks up. She asks her to help him out of her dress. (oo-er. Romance dialogue!)

Brother Carl tilts his head to one side, seeming confused, then tears the dress off her in one gauntleted hand and goes back to his book. Kessler takes the dress and throws it at him. “You can keep that.”

(This is very bewildering.)

While he’s struggling with the dress, she goes for the hood and pulls it down.

She sees a gaunt looking face with red hair and red beard, sunken eyes, drawn cheeks. She makes a Investigation check (or an against-nature check) to see if she knows how long he’s been dead - a 9. He is not decomposing naturally so it’s hard to tell.

Carl looks at her, touches his face. He almost looks a little bit sad and perhaps a touch disappointed in her, and pulls his hood back up. She offers to lay him to rest. Carl shakes his head fervently.

She asks why Charity is animating him? Can he write that down? He does know languages…

“Ardvack saved me.” Carl writes on the wall in charcoal, and will not engage further.

Carl’s book is in gnomish - Kessler memorises and writes down what she can see of it to ask Tarragon later, and Joe calls it there. Presumably because he now has to go and write two pages of a random book, in gnomish.

[bigyack-com]

Chubb Partners Grab to Launch In-App Travel Insurance in Singapore

Chubb, one of the world’s largest publicly traded property and casualty insurance companies, has partnered Grab, a leading app in Southeast Asia, to launch Travel Cover. Grab users who purchase Travel Cover are able to save their travel profiles on the Grab app, making future purchases extremely easy. They will also be rewarded with discounts for each repurchase of Travel Cover. The product is distributed by GrabInsure Insurance Agency, Grab Financial Group’s insurance platform.

Tom Duncan, Head of Insurance at Grab, said, “Our mission with GrabInsure is to provide access to affordable insurance products that better meet the everyday needs of Southeast Asians as we enter the consumer insurance market. Our customer research shows that many individuals were uninsured when they travel, and we are uniquely placed to address this gap. Travel Cover is an example of how we are leveraging GrabInsure’s platform to deliver innovative ‘on-demand’ insurance products. We are pleased to be working with Chubb as they share our vision to make insurance affordable and easily accessible. We will continue to work closely together to expand the product offering and address the differing consumer needs across the region.” In Singapore, for example, a new insurance tile has been added to the Grab app, allowing Singapore-based customers to purchase Travel Cover from just S$2.50 per day for travel to any destination globally. To celebrate the launch of this new product, the first 20,000 customers can purchase Travel Cover at a discounted price of just S$1 per day until 29 February 2020 for trips within the Asia Pacific region. Travel Cover is expected to be rolled out to other Grab markets in Southeast Asia in the coming months. Scott Simpson, Country President of Chubb in Singapore said, “Outbound travel from Singapore is thriving, reaching 10.4 million departures by air and sea in 2018. At the same time, smartphone users are projected to hit 4.65 million this year. Our partnership with Grab allows us to develop more customer-centric insurance solutions that align with the varied lifestyles of consumers.” See latest Travel News, Interviews, Podcasts and other news regarding: Chubb, Grab, Insurance. 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[booksnunicorns]

King of the Kitchen — Bru Baker

Empires rivaux du monde de la gastronomie, les noms de Douglas et Walters se disputent la couronne depuis des temps immémoriaux. La presse s’arrache le moindre scoop sur les deux talentueux héritiers de ces magnats de la restauration, les jeunes Beck Douglas et Duncan Walters. Beck, qui anime une émission de cuisine à succès avec son oncle, est réputé pour son charme et sa cuisine traditionnelle. Duncan, quant à lui, n’a pas peur de sortir des sentiers battus et s’est construit une réputation de rebelle en refusant de travailler pour son père.

Lorsqu’un cliché d’eux en train de se disputer violemment commence à circuler, les médias s’enflamment. Afin de contrôler les dommages qu’une rixe entre les deux familles pourrait porter à leur réputation, leurs chargés de communication respectifs orchestrent une réconciliation factice. Au cours de cette mascarade, et malgré les projecteurs et la mise en scène, une étincelle naît secrètement entre les deux jeunes hommes.

Beck ploie sous la pression continuelle que lui inflige son oncle, et les relations déjà tendues de Duncan avec son père se détériorent encore davantage lorsqu’il commence à soupçonner un rapprochement entre Duncan et Beck. Il faut dire qu’il est difficile d’ignorer l’alchimie qui brûle entre eux à l’écran, lorsque Duncan rejoint Beck sur le plateau de son émission. Une chose est sûre, au travail comme en amour, c’est un parcours semé d’embûches qui les attend, et comme le dit le dicton, on ne fait pas d’omelette sans casser des œufs…

De Bru Baker paru en Janvier 2019 chez Dreamespinner Press [ Amazon ] 193 pages

J’ai commencé cette lecture car j’étais curieuse de cette auteur que je ne connaissais pas et qui allait être en dédicaces au Livre Paris 2019. Et donc, je me suis dit, pourquoi ne pas tenter.

Quand j’ai lu le 4ème de couverture, la première idée qui me vient c’est que c’est le Roméo et Roméo des fourneaux. Je pensais à un amour impossible, contrarié, caché et ça m’allait très très bien.

Sauf que la réalité est toute autre. Le récit commençait bien, on rencontre les personnages et on commence à les découvrir et cette partie était très intéressante. C’était le genre de personnages frais, vivants, solaires qui font plaisir à lire (du moins pour l’un d’eux)...et puis c’est tout. J’ai trouvé que le récit manquait un peu de cohérence, les deux familles sont censées ne pas se blairer mais au final, ce n’est pas aussi sanguin que ça. Ils ne s’aiment pas et ça ne semble pas du tout le gros souci complètement infranchissable.

Les deux personnages sont censés se détester mais au final ne se détestent pas tant que ça. Et ils finissent relativement rapidement proches. Encore une particularité du récit qui ne m’a pas convaincue.

Pour ce qui du style, je n’ai pas trouvé ça transcendant et pour être vraiment honnête, au moment où j’écris ces lignes, j’ai quasiment oublié ce livre. J’ai même réussi à trouver le livre long alors qu’il faisait moins de 200 pages.

Au final, à part les scènes d’interaction à l’écran des deux personnes (dont j’ai oublié le nom) que j’ai beaucoup aimées, ce livre m’a semblé vraiment très plat. Dommage !

[naivelocus]

Kinome rewiring reveals AURKA limits PI3K-pathway inhibitor efficacy in breast cancer

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— Nature Chemical Biology - Issue - n...

[mythous]

          ❝  you’ve  been  pacing  the  halls  all  night  long.  ❞ --- @eposerta // memes

OPENING  HIS  MOUTH  TO  ARGUE,   lips  find  themselves  pressed  together  moments  later,   no  words  available  to  pass  through  them  that  she  wouldn’t  see  right  through  anyway.   he  had  been  pacing  all  night   —   just  close  enough  to  keep  a  measured  eye  on  her,   far  enough  to  not  interrupt  the  festivities. marcus  had  been  told  in  no  uncertain  terms  that  this  whole  night  was  for  her,   that  he  was  to  be  the  watchful  eye,   to  protect,    not  to  interfere   (  it  was  his  job  after  all,   and  she  was  his  charge  ).   

his  job  had  become  nearly  impossible  the  moment  he’d  seen  her,   and  the  entire  world  had  been  tilted  on  its  axis  ever  since. 

         ❝  i’m  just   —  ❞    looking  around  as  if  to  find  an  excuse  to  hand  over.   a  ridiculous  notion  considering  he  already  knows  every  inch  of  the  halls,   the  ballroom,   the  alcoves   —   for  security’s  sake,  of  course  (  he  also  knows  every  exit,   for  other  reasons  ).  no  answer  can  be  found  in  the  finery  all  around  them,  and  he  turns  back  to  renata  with  a  pained  smile.    ❝  it  was  getting  a  little  overwhelming  in  there,   you  know  ?  ❞   in  there,   out  here,   the  whole  thing  is  overwhelming  and  foolish  and  he’s  got  no  clue  how  to  pull  any  of  it  off  when  she’s  standing  there  looking  at  him  like  that  and  all  he  wants  to  do  is   —   

no,   he’s  not  going  to  go  there,   not  now,  not  even  in  his  mind.   he’s  already  mentally  cursing  niko  for  reading  everything  so  plainly  in  one  conversation  that  had  taken  him  far  too  long  to  realize  himself.   

forcing  the  smile  to  mellow  into  something  more  natural  and  less  on - the - verge - of - fleeing,   marcus  gestures  behind  ren  to  the  ballroom  still  bustling  with  activity,   brows  raised.     ❝  you’re   supposed  to  be  in  there  you  know,   i’m  not  sure  if  you  noticed  but    —   ❞   amusement  coats  the  words,   like  this  is  some  inside  joke  the  two  of  them  share,  while  he  simultaneously  looks  almost  apologetic.   ❝  —   but  this  is  your  party.  ❞

[mythous]

HE  WANTS  TO  LAUGH,   wants  to  give  some  cynical  answer  that  exposes  just  how  jaded  he’s  become  with  everything  going  on.   but  the  would - be  laugh  comes  out  more  like  a  dry  scoff,  and  marcus  finds  his  head  dipping  as  if  to  hide  whatever  look  it  brought  to  his  face.  it’s  not  like  he  has  a  reason  to  protect  her  from  this  new  marcus  —   she  hadn’t  even  known  the  old  one.  there’s  just  something  about  her  eyes  that  makes  him  feel  a  little  too  seen  in  a  way  he’s  not  quite  comfortable  with.

❝  gotta  be  some  out  there,  right  ?   i  mean  plenty  of  people  get  out  of  places  like  this  and  do  something  with  their  lives.  ❞     like  he’d  tried  to,  like  maybe  he  could  have  done.   even  now  he  stands  apart  from  his  family,  settled  into  his  own  apartment  despite  having  to  come  home.   and  yet  they  bleed  in  through  his  walls  anyway.   his  gaze  follows  hers,   settling  on  milo  where  he  snores  softly  against  marcus’  couch  cushions.   ❝  yeah,   he’s  not  that  bad,  ❞   he  concedes  because  he’s  not,   or  he  wasn’t.  and  he  can’t  even  blame  his  brother  for  all  of  this   —   this  scene,  this  exploitation  of  someone’s  kindness,   this  behavior  —   everyone  has  their  own  way  of  coping  with  grief.   when  he  looks  back  at  her,   marcus  finds  a  smile.    ❝  right,  thanks  for  that,  i’m  surprised  he  even  remembered  my  address.  ❞    this  time  his  laugh  is  a  little  more  real  by  the  time  it  manifests,  and  he  nods,   almost  to  himself.    ❝  you  want  a  coffee,   or  a  cocoa —   something  warm  before  you  head  back  out  in  the  cold ?  ❞    he’s  not  about  to  grill  her  about  her  drinking  habits,   but  if  she’d  been  at  the  same  party  with  milo,  might  do  some  good  to  sober  up,  too.   // @eposerta

@mythous said "i’ve seen this town make good people do bad things." xoxo marcus

❛      DO  YOU  KNOW  OF  ANY  TOWNS  THAT  MAKE  BAD  PEOPLE  DO  GOOD  THINGS  ?    ❜  while  the  question  is  asked  with  a  hint  of  humor  ,    the  perplexed  expression  upon  her  features  begs  for  an  answer  .  the  truth  is  that  she  would  love  to  know  ,  craves  the  comfort  that  could  be  brought  with  knowledge  that  even  the  worst  in  the  world  could  change  ,  even  if  it  was  too  late  to  avoid  the  consequences  .  more  pipe  dreams  -  she’s  full  of them    . she  smiles  with  the  same  hope  that’s  pulled  her  down  to  rock  bottom  too  many  times  for  her  to  count  ,  leaning  in  to  his  train  of  thought  as  if  there  had  to  be  more  to  it  than  that  .  perhaps  it  was  this  town  that  made  the  good  turn  bad  ,  or  ,  couldn’t  it  also  have  been  the  people  themselves  ?  who  was  she  to  question  the  morality  of  others  —  what  aches  them  ,  what  drives  them  and  their  actions  ?  she  was  nobody  -  far  from  judge  ,  jury  ,  executioner  . 

hands  burrow  themselves  into  the  sleeves  of  her  jacket  ,  the  wind  teasing  the  back  of  her  neck  makes  her  shudder  from  the  chill.  it  brings  feet  forward  to  put  distance  between  her  and  the  door  ,  indulging  the  warmth  of  such  a  quiet  home  .  ❛      besides  …    ❜  a  look  is  given  to  the  young  man  that  lay  face  first  on  the  sofa  ,  and  for  a  second  ,  pity  washes  across  her  cheeks  as  her  tongue  clicks  ,  and  the  desire  to  lighten  the  mood  ,  she  continues  ,  ❛      he’s  not  that  bad  —  he  just  wanted  to  have  a  good  time  ,  at  least  he  made  it  here  in  one  piece  ,  right  ?    ❜

[tekhne]

HE  SITS  WITH  THE  ATTEMPTED  APPEARANCE  of  a  casual  demeanor,   one  that’s  kind  of  ruined  by  the  straight  line  of  his  back,  and  the  way  his  hands  rest  atop  his  knees,  unmoving.

          ❝  we  need  to  talk  about  yesterday.  ❞

yesterday,   renata  had  been  so  weak  from  her  treatment  that  he’d  had  to  carry  her  back  to  her  rooms.   yesterday,  she’d  fallen  asleep  in  the  afternoon  and  slept  for  nearly  20  hours  without  stirring.  he’d  been  up  all  night  just  making  sure  she  was  still  breathing  because  when  he’d  called  down  to  the  lab  yesterday  to  express  his  concern,  he’d  been  assured  it  was  normal.   bullshit.

          ❝  how  often  does  it  get  that  bad ?  ❞    the  frustration  seeps  out,  and  marcus  drops  his  voice  because  he  may  be  somewhat  new  to  his  post,  but  he  can  be  certain  the  walls  have  ears.     ❝  why  are  you  letting  them  do  this  to  you  ?  ❞

♡   ╲╲ …   @edenrisen​    ›    r.byun​

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Wed[nesday] 5 October 1836

6 1/2

11 10/..

N

No kiss left A- [Ann]  asleep in bed - fine frosty morn[in]g and F[ahrenheit] 40° and w[e]nt out at 7 1/4 till br[eak]f[a]st at 9 in

1/2 h[ou]r - then sat a lit[tle] w[i]th A- [Ann] at her bedside – bet[ter] b[u]t oppress[e]d w[i]th cold at her chest - chose cloths

for the serv[an]ts and wr[ote] no[te] to ‘Mr. Duncan, Tailor, Halifax’ till 10 1/2 when call[e]d down to Jos[e]ph

Mann – w[e]nt w[i]th h[i]m to the wheel-race – h[a]d Booth w[i]th us – w[e]nt int[o] the bot[tom] – settl[e]d that

wh[a]t engine-pit wall[in]g is done, is to be pull[e]d up and down w[i]th bet[ter] st[one] and wall[e]d up[on] an oak-

frame – Jos[e]ph w[e]nt to Ch[arle]s How[ar]th to ord[e]r it - it will be done by noon tomor[row] - Dobson ca[me]

and walk[e]d w[i]th Jos[e]ph and me up to the Upp[e]r place quarry, and the 2 Lit[tle] marsh-holes - D- [Dobson] th[in]ks there

will so[me] good st[on]e co[me] out of the 2[n]d hole - the upp[e]r bed worn out – b[u]t the low[e]r will be 5 or 6ft.

thick of good st[one] - then ga[ve] Jos[e]ph Mann direct[io]ns ab[ou]t sink[in]g a sm[all] oblong hole d[o]wn to the bot[tom] of the st[one]

in the mid[dle] of the oat stubble bel[ow] the gard[e]n ab[ou]t 10 y[ar]ds ab[ov]e low end wall - to be begun of tomor[row] –

told Dobson I wish[e]d to ha[ve] all ready for the lett[in]g by the 1st of Nov[embe]r – Beg[a]n talk[in]g of the hole Mr. Freeman put

 Lit[tle] Marsh st[one]

ord[e]r a sm[all] hole to be made by the Manns

  225

1836

Oct[obe]r

V

LN

d[o]wn in Lit[tle] marsh land, ag[ain]st Mrs. Machan’s land, and left as n[o]t worth attend[in]g to – ask[e]d wh[a]t

Dobson wh[a]t it w[a]s worth offh[a]nd - he h[a]d nev[e]r seen the bot[tom] of it – wish[e]d he h[a]d – b[u]t it w[a]s fill[e]d up

2 y[ar]ds deep – s[ai]d I w[oul]d ha[ve] it reop[ene]d – Jos[e]ph Mann to do it aft[e]r he h[a]d put d[o]wn the hole in the

oat stubble - Dobson s[ai]d Womersleys’ fath[e]r h[a]d the delph und[e]r my unc[le] Jos[e]ph L- [Lister] in Upp[e]r Place land –

D- [Dobson] durst venture to gi[ve] 3/6 p[e]r y[ar]d p[ai]d d[o]wn - and then g[e]t up to 4/. p[e]r y[ar]d p[ai]d d[o]wn – Jos[e]ph [stood ]

ov[e]r the dimens[ion]s D- [Dobson] point[e]d out   44 y[ar]ds fr[om] lowside of hole to fence-wall at the top of the f[iel]d

and 50 y[ar]ds d[o]wn the f[iel]d - 30x44 =1320 y[ar]ds b[u]t D- [Dobson] s[ai]d there w[oul]d be mo[re] st[on]e than that – w[oul]d be a DW =

3136 say 3000 y[ar]ds at 4/. = £600 - as we walk[e]d b[a]ck d[o]wn Pump Lane Jos[e]ph Mann s[ai]d

there ought to be so[me]th[in]g p[ai]d by D- [Dobson] for the Kays (posts of st[one]) at Upp[e]r Pl[a]ce quarry - I took n[o]t m[uc]h

not[i]ce of this b[u]t th[ou]ght I w[oul]d find out mo[re] of this by and by - JM- [Joseph Mann] w[oul]d n[o]t advise me to try m[u]ch mo[re]

aft[e]r Mr. Rawsons’ trespass at pres[en]t – th[in]ks it low[e]r down and where we can[no]t co[me] at at pres[en]t –

beg[a]n say[in]g wh[a]t I might ha[ve] loos[e]d if I h[a]d h[a]d Mrs. Machan’s farm and Dovehouses – m[i]ght ha[ve] put

d[o]wn a lit[tle] steam engine just bel[ow] where the throw is in the Long-goit - I mere[l]y s[ai]d it w[a]s perh[aps] as well as

it w[a]s – ho[me] ab[ou]t 2 – a lit[tle] whi[le]  met Mr. Jubb at Ch[arle]s How[ar]th’s - my a[un]t rath[e]r bet[ter]? b[u]t no know[in]g

how long it m[i]ght last - A- [Ann] h[a]d a good deal of fev[e]r - a lit[tle] whi[le] w[i]th A- [Ann] a few min[ute]s w[i]th

my a[un]t b[u]t determ[ine]d n[o]t to go ag[ai]n dur[in]g her din[ner] - she m[i]ght ha[ve] done bet[ter] w[i]thout me - then w[i]th

A- [Ann] ag[a]in – g[o]t her a lit[tl]e cold meat and a teasp[oon]ful of Madeira and put her to bed (to lie d[o]wn)

and st[ai]d w[i]th h[e]r till ver[y] n[ea]r 4 - then out, ab[ou]t, till 6 20/.. – dress[e]d – din[ner] at 6 3/4 in 1/2 h[ou]r – coff[ee]

upst[ai]rs w[i]th A- [Ann] and sat w[i]th h[e]r till she rang for Cookson at 8 1/4- then till 8 35/.. wr[ote] all b[u]t the

1st 4 lines of today – call[e]d int[o] the h[ou]se soon aft[e]r 4 to ‘Mrs. W.? Johnson’ who call[e]d to

inq[uire] the charact[e]r of Rachel Sharpe - I regrett[e]d Mrs. J- [Johnson] h[a]d n[o]t seen Miss Walk[e]r – b[u]t b[o]th she

and I h[a]d an excel[len]t opin[ion] of Rachel for trustworth[in]gs and being oblig[in]g and good temp[ere]d - left us bec[ause]

n[o]t a suffic[ientl]y good cook, and n[o]t old en[ou]gh or capab[le] of tak[in]g charge of the estab[lishmen]t – Rob[er]t + 3

and 2 one h[or]se carts (Mark Hepw[or]th and Binns) br[ou]ght each a l[oa]d of rubble this morn[in]g and then cart

stuff fr[om] the court to top of old paddock as yest[erday] - Frank br[ou]ght rubble and rough stuff for

Ingham fr[om] Hipp[erholme] quarry – Ingh[a]m and his man and boy at digg[in]g out for the 2[n]d arch – Rob[er]t

Schof[iel]d break[in]g st[one] and mend[in]g up at the bot[tom] go the court lead[in]g to the coal-place door - his man Jos[e]ph n[o]t

here – poor[l]y - Booth and Jo[s]eph Sharpe and 2 or 3 lads at the west tow[e]r - laid the 1st cellar

step this aft[ernoo]n and wall[e]d up to plinth [?] on the s[ou]th side and west sides – Ja[me]s and Ab[raha]m in the

buttery cellar and the latt[e]r in the aft[ernoo]n paint[in]g up arch of hall-cellar, and Ja[me]s and he too latterly broke out

hole in the Drab-r[oo]m for stair case wind[ow] - the gard[ene]r w[i]th Sam Booth all today tak[in]g soil

off for the stuff br[ou]ght fr[om] the court – Ch[arle]s and Ja[me]s How[ar]th ca[me] this aft[ernoo]n to make the Engine pit frame –

Sugden h[a]d the 2 bay horses in the break this morn[in]g and s[e]nt them b[a]ck in a lath[e]r - Just bef[ore] din[ner]

Jack Green ca[me] this ev[enin]g and ga[ve] me the key of the mid[dle] b[a]ck Mytholm cot[tage] that he left on Monday

told Mark Hepw[or]th to get the mytholm croft plough[e]d and sown w[i]th tares and so[me] H[alifa]x stuff (manure)

harrow[e]d in as soon as he c[oul]d – w[i]th my a[un]t fr[om] 9 to 10 - sat read[in]g - my a[un]t ver[y] poor[l]y b[u]t ver[y] quiet – nev[e]r

spo[ke] or stirr[e]d - fine day - a show[e]r ab[ou]t 4 1/2 p.m. – F[ahrenheit] 43° now at 10 5/.. p.m. – let[ter] tonight fr[om] Mrs. Bull and no[te] fr[om] the philos[ophical] soc[iet]y

 £600 bid for st[one]

 coal-loose if

I h[a]d.................

 J. Green gi[ve]s up

the key of his cot[tage]

[oscarhgreene]

Fibromyalgia: Childhood Abuse and Stress as a Cause

Today we will be discussing associations between childhood abuse and stress as a potential cause of fibromyalgia.  In this broadcast we will be expanding upon the literature regarding these topics and illustrating from a physiologic perspective how these events can be associated with chronic widespread pain, brain fog, IBS, and depression.

  Please forward us any comments here on our website or go to our Power Health Facebook page http://ift.tt/1LslSK0

References:

1. Self-reported childhood maltreatment, lifelong traumatic events and mental disorders in fibromyalgia syndrome: a comparison of US and German outpatients. Häuser W, Hoffmann EM, Wolfe F, Worthing AB, Stahl N, Rothenberg R, Walitt B. Clin Exp Rheumatol. 2015 Mar-Apr;33(1 Suppl 88):86-92. Epub 2015 Mar 18. PMID: 25786049 [PubMed – in process] Related citations

2. GILZ: Glitzing up our understanding of the glucocorticoid receptor in psychopathology. Thiagarajah AS, Eades LE, Thomas PR, Guymer EK, Morand EF, Clarke DM, Leech M. Brain Res. 2014 Jul 29;1574:60-9. doi: 10.1016/j.brainres.2014.06.008. Epub 2014 Jun 12. Review. PMID: 24931768 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Related citations

3. A cross-sectional survey assessing sources of movement-related fear among people with fibromyalgia syndrome. Russek L, Gardner S, Maguire K, Stevens C, Brown EZ, Jayawardana V, Mondal S. Clin Rheumatol. 2014 Jan 31. [Epub ahead of print] PMID: 24481649 [PubMed – as supplied by publisher] Related citations

4. Psychological trauma and functional somatic syndromes: a systematic review and meta-analysis. Afari N, Ahumada SM, Wright LJ, Mostoufi S, Golnari G, Reis V, Cuneo JG. Psychosom Med. 2014 Jan;76(1):2-11. doi: 10.1097/PSY.0000000000000010. Epub 2013 Dec 12. Review. PMID: 24336429 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Free PMC Article Related citations

5. Associations between body mass index, post-traumatic stress disorder, and child maltreatment in young women. Duncan AE, Sartor CE, Jonson-Reid M, Munn-Chernoff MA, Eschenbacher MA, Diemer EW, Nelson EC, Waldron M, Bucholz KK, Madden PA, Heath AC. Child Abuse Negl. 2015 Mar 11. pii: S0145-2134(15)00052-6. doi: 10.1016/j.chiabu.2015.02.007. [Epub ahead of print] PMID: 25770346 [PubMed – as supplied by publisher] Related citations

6. An epidemiological overview of child sexual abuse. Singh MM, Parsekar SS, Nair SN. J Family Med Prim Care. 2014 Oct-Dec;3(4):430-5. doi: 10.4103/2249-4863.148139. Review. PMID: 25657958 [PubMed] Free PMC Article Related citations

7. [Conditions, controversies and contradictions between Central Sensitivity Syndrome and Depressive Disorders]. Maresca T, Covini E, Mato AM. Vertex. 2013 Sep-Oct;24(111):373-91. Spanish. PMID: 24312923 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Related citations

8. Vulnerability to traumatic stress in fibromyalgia patients: 19 month follow-up after the great East Japan disaster. Usui C, Hatta K, Aratani S, Yagishita N, Nishioka K, Okamura S, Itoh K, Yamano Y, Nakamura H, Asukai N, Nakajima T, Nishioka K. Arthritis Res Ther. 2013 Sep 23;15(5):R130. doi: 10.1186/ar4310. PMID: 24286267 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Free PMC Article Related citations

9. Dissociative depression among women with fibromyalgia or rheumatoid arthritis. Kilic O, Sar V, Taycan O, Aksoy-Poyraz C, Erol TC, Tecer O, Emul MH, Ozmen M. J Trauma Dissociation. 2014;15(3):285-302. doi: 10.1080/15299732.2013.844218. PMID: 24228798 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Related citations

10. Posttraumatic stress disorder in fibromyalgia syndrome: prevalence, temporal relationship between posttraumatic stress and fibromyalgia symptoms, and impact on clinical outcome. Häuser W, Galek A, Erbslöh-Möller B, Köllner V, Kühn-Becker H, Langhorst J, Petermann F, Prothmann U, Winkelmann A, Schmutzer G, Brähler E, Glaesmer H. Pain. 2013 Aug;154(8):1216-23. doi: 10.1016/j.pain.2013.03.034. Epub 2013 Apr 2. PMID: 23685006 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Related citations

11. Alcohol dependence as a chronic pain disorder. Egli M, Koob GF, Edwards S. Neurosci Biobehav Rev. 2012 Nov;36(10):2179-92. doi: 10.1016/j.neubiorev.2012.07.010. Epub 2012 Sep 11. Review. PMID: 22975446 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Free PMC Article Related citations

12. FMRI reveals abnormal central processing of sensory and pain stimuli in ill Gulf War veterans. Gopinath K, Gandhi P, Goyal A, Jiang L, Fang Y, Ouyang L, Ganji S, Buhner D, Ringe W, Spence J, Biggs M, Briggs R, Haley R. Neurotoxicology. 2012 Jun;33(3):261-71. doi: 10.1016/j.neuro.2012.01.014. Epub 2012 Feb 4. PMID: 22327017 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Free PMC Article Related citations

13. Holocaust survivors: the pain behind the agony. Increased prevalence of fibromyalgia among Holocaust survivors. Ablin JN, Cohen H, Eisinger M, Buskila D. Clin Exp Rheumatol. 2010 Nov-Dec;28(6 Suppl 63):S51-6. Epub 2010 Dec 22. PMID: 21176421 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Related citations

14. Nondermatomal somatosensory deficits: overview of unexplainable negative sensory phenomena in chronic pain patients. Mailis-Gagnon A, Nicholson K. Curr Opin Anaesthesiol. 2010 Oct;23(5):593-7. doi: 10.1097/ACO.0b013e32833dd01c. Review. PMID: 20657277 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Related citations

15. Childhood maltreatment and diurnal cortisol patterns in women with chronic pain. Nicolson NA, Davis MC, Kruszewski D, Zautra AJ. Psychosom Med. 2010 Jun;72(5):471-80. doi: 10.1097/PSY.0b013e3181d9a104. Epub 2010 May 13. PMID: 20467005 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Related citations

16. Health consequences of childhood sexual abuse. Wilson DR. Perspect Psychiatr Care. 2010 Jan;46(1):56-64. doi: 10.1111/j.1744-6163.2009.00238.x. Review. PMID: 20051079 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Related citations

17. Etiopathogenetic mechanisms of fibromyalgia syndrome. Stisi S, Cazzola M, Buskila D, Spath M, Giamberardino MA, Sarzi-Puttini P, Arioli G, Alciati A, Leardini G, Gorla R, Marsico A, Ceccherelli F, Bazzichi L, Carignola R, Gracely RH, Salaffi F, Marinangeli F, Torta R, Di Franco M, Biasi G, Cassisi G, Casale R, Altomonte L, Atzeni F; Italian Fibromyalgia Network. Reumatismo. 2008 Jul-Sep;60 Suppl 1:25-35. PMID: 18852906 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Related citations

18. Somatoform dissociation and traumatic experiences in patients with rheumatoid arthritis and fibromyalgia. Näring GW, van Lankveld W, Geenen R. Clin Exp Rheumatol. 2007 Nov-Dec;25(6):872-7. PMID: 18173922 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Related citations

19. Coping styles in fibromyalgia: effect of co-morbid posttraumatic stress disorder. Ablin JN, Cohen H, Neumann L, Kaplan Z, Buskila D. Rheumatol Int. 2008 May;28(7):649-56. Epub 2007 Dec 6. PMID: 18058105 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Related citations

20. Physical activity protects male patients with post-traumatic stress disorder from developing severe fibromyalgia. Arnson Y, Amital D, Fostick L, Silberman A, Polliack ML, Zohar J, Rubinow A, Amital H. Clin Exp Rheumatol. 2007 Jul-Aug;25(4):529-33. PMID: 17888207 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Related citations

21. The hypothalamo-pituitary-adrenal axis in chronic fatigue syndrome and fibromyalgia syndrome. Tanriverdi F, Karaca Z, Unluhizarci K, Kelestimur F. Stress. 2007 Mar;10(1):13-25. Review. PMID: 17454963 [PubMed – indexed for MEDLINE] Related citations

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Fibromyalgia: Childhood Abuse and Stress as a Cause

[neurogenpapers]

Automated multiple trajectory planning algorithm for the placement of stereo-electroencephalography (SEEG) electrodes in epilepsy treatment.

IoN UCL PubMed: Related Articles Automated multiple trajectory planning algorithm for the placement of stereo-electroencephalography (SEEG) electrodes in epilepsy treatment. Int J Comput Assist Radiol Surg. 2017 Jan;12(1):123-136 Authors: Sparks R, Zombori G, Rodionov R, Nowell M, Vos SB, Zuluaga MA, Diehl B, Wehner T, Miserocchi A, McEvoy AW, Duncan JS, Ourselin S Abstract PURPOSE: About one-third of individuals with focal epilepsy continue to have seizures despite optimal medical management. These patients are potentially curable with neurosurgery if the epileptogenic zone (EZ) can be identified and resected. Stereo-electroencephalography (SEEG) to record epileptic activity with intracranial depth electrodes may be required to identify the EZ. Each SEEG electrode trajectory, the path between the entry on the skull and the cerebral target, must be planned carefully to avoid trauma to blood vessels and conflicts between electrodes. In current clinical practice trajectories are determined manually, typically taking 2-3 h per patient (15 min per electrode). Manual planning (MP) aims to achieve an implantation plan with good coverage of the putative EZ, an optimal spatial resolution, and 3D distribution of electrodes. Computer-assisted planning tools can reduce planning time by quantifying trajectory suitability. METHODS: We present an automated multiple trajectory planning (MTP) algorithm to compute implantation plans. MTP uses dynamic programming to determine a set of plans. From this set a depth-first search algorithm finds a suitable plan. We compared our MTP algorithm to (a) MP and (b) an automated single trajectory planning (STP) algorithm on 18 patient plans containing 165 electrodes. RESULTS: MTP changed all 165 trajectories compared to MP. Changes resulted in lower risk (122), increased grey matter sampling (99), shorter length (92), and surgically preferred entry angles (113). MTP changed 42 % (69/165) trajectories compared to STP. Every plan had between 1 to 8 (median 3.5) trajectories changed to resolve electrode conflicts, resulting in surgically preferred plans. CONCLUSION: MTP is computationally efficient, determining implantation plans containing 7-12 electrodes within 1 min, compared to 2-3 h for MP. PMID: 27368184 [PubMed - indexed for MEDLINE] http://dlvr.it/NC1624

[mythous]

HE  GLANCES  DOWN  ——mind  reeling  with  the  weight  of  niko’s  words.   there’s  a  battle  within  him,   a  conflict  between  duty  and  the  emotions  he  hadn’t  even  realized  were  taking  root  ( a  lie,  probably,  he’d  simply  been  unwilling  to  admit  them  to  himself  ).  hands  clench  into  fists  at  his  sides,   knuckles  whitening  with  the  effort  of  holding  back  his  frustration.   he  feels  as  though  he’s  being  scolded,   like  a  child,  and  maybe  he  hadn’t  come  into  this  with  full  understanding  of  what  he’d  been  asking,  but  that  doesn’t  mean  he’s  not  capable.  

❝  i  know  the  risks,  ❞   he  whispers,  storm  still  brewing  in  his  eyes.   ❝  and  it’s  not  just  about  her,  it’s  about  what’s  right.  ❞   he’s  realizing  it  now,  beginning  to  understand  so  much  about  what’s  going  on.  maybe  his  feelings  for  ren  had  been  the  catalyst,  the  first  step  toward  the  opening  of  his  own  eyes  (  maybe  he  is  an  idiot,  after  all  ),  but  things  are  becoming  all  too  clear  in  the  aftermath.   

a  heavy  sigh  escapes  his  lips,  head  lifting  to  meet  niko’s  gaze  with  new  determination.   ❝  i  can’t  just  stand  by  and  watch  them  use  her  —  ❞    he  doesn’t  even  want  to  speak  the  names  out  loud,  like  it  might  summon  equinox’s  thugs  just  by  speaking  them  into  existence.   ❝  —  manipulate  her.   i  may  not  know  all  the  details,   but  i  know  enough.  ❞   voice  gaining  strength,  a  resolute  edge  sharpens  his  words.   ❝  and  if  it  means  risking  everything,  then  so  be  it.  ❞    what  does  he  have  left,   anyway?  a  brother inent  to  follow  in  marcus’  footsteps,   a  father  who’s  barely  conscious  most  of  the  time,   soaking  his  soul  with  liquor  until  it  drags  him  to  the  grave  with  marcus’  mother.

❝  maybe  i’m  an  idiot.  you  probably  think  i’m  naive  to  think  i  could  make  a  difference.  ❞   he  leans  closer,   earnest  eyes  seeking  something  in  niko  he’s  not  likely  to  find.  but  it  doesn’t  stop  marcus  from  posing  the  question.   ❝  don’t  you  want  to  believe  there’s  a  chance  for  something  better  here  —   for  all  of  us  ?  ❞   it  doesn’t  make  him  weak,   he  thinks,  acknowledging  his  feelings,  his  vulnerabilities.  there’s  a  quiet  strength  in  that  —  different  than  the  kind  that  comes  from  training  and  pushing  his  body  to  the  limit  —  it  almost  feels  comfortable  now  that  the  apprehension  has  faded  a  bit.   

leaning  back,   he  considers  niko’s  words  for  a  long  time,   will  probably  consider  them  well  into  the  night  once  he  returns  to  his  post.   he  knows  his  loyalty  is  part  of  what  got  him  this  position  in  the  first  place   —   first  to  equinox  ( ironic  considering  the  plans  he’s  currently  making  ),   and  now  to  ren.   the  resolve  is  unshakable  as  marcus  shrugs.  ❝  then  she’ll  have  to  kill  me.  ❞    a  humorless  laugh  as  the  truth  of  that  statement  settles.   ❝  i  won’t  give  up,   even  if  she  tries.  ❞ // @ofeden

HE’S  NEVER  BEEN  SURE  WHAT  TO  THINK  when  it  comes  to  marcus  .  for  years  ,  they’ve  known  one  another  ,  he  mentored  him  ,  taught  him  everything  he  knew  ,  but  perhaps  in  hindsight  ,  he  should  have  told  him  more  .  at  that  time  though  ,  equinox  was  the  best  place  he  ,  or  truthfully  ,    anyone  could  be  .  there  was  security  ,  protection  ,  work  and  in  the  end  ?  there  had  been  plenty  (  perhaps  too  much  )  intelligence  to  gather  about  the  mercenary  group  to  hold  onto  in  the  long  run  . but  that’s  all  nikolas  petran  does  ,  at  his  core  ,  often  without  realizing  it  .  he’s  thinking  ahead  .  perhaps  that’s  why  the  situation  marcus  has  fallen  into  bothers  him  more  than  it  should  .  he  wouldn’t  have  expected  him  to  fall  for  someone  so  dangerous  for  him  (  perhaps  for  both  of  them  )  . ❛    you’re  an  idiot  .      ❜  the  words  are  muffled  by  the  placement  of  a  hand  over  his  face  .  marcus  duncan  had  the  potential  to  do  great  things  ,  even  if  said  things  were  for  equinox  .  he’d  been  one  of  the  best  soldiers  that  he’d  ever  worked  with  and  there  had  been  a  time  that  niko  could  confidently  say  that  he  would  trust  him  with  his  life  ,  in  his  own  way  .  now  ?  as  the  other  sits  across  from  him  with  this  dumb  look  on  his  face  ,  he’s  not  so  sure  what  to  think  ,  or  say  —  and  a  niko  without  words  is  never  a  good  thing  . a  sigh  escapes  ,  it’s  dry  ,  tired  ,  thoughtful  .  it  lays  down  words  that  he’ll  keep  internally  for  the  time  being  ,  the  thoughts  of  how  this  …  creature  must  have  gotten  into  marcus’  head  ,  twisted  everything  that  he’d  proudly  taught  him  and  ripped  it  to  pieces  .  if  equinox  doesn’t  kill  her  ,  or  whatever  marcus  has  planned  doesn’t  …  he  may  have  to  ,  and  it  could  be  the  best  thing  he  could  offer  to  the  other  .  ❛      –  marcus  ,    ❜  his  tone  has  dulled  some  ,  leaving  behind  the  irritation  and  the  influx  of  thoughts  and  plans  on  how  to  handle  this  ,  ❛      this  world  isn’t  fitting  for  some  romeo  and  juliet  tale  ,  but  i  can  promise  you  ,  this  will  end  in  tragedy  if  you  aren’t  careful  .    ❜  but  marcus  has  seemingly  left  caution  to  the  wind    .  already  ,  the  hesitance  that  washes  over  niko  after  it  took  barely  a  breath  to  agree  to  his  terms  ,  is  proving  that  point  .  ❛      do  you  know  what  they  will  do  to  you  if  you’re  caught  ?      ❜  normally  ,  he  wouldn’t  lay  out  the  dangers  of  a  favor  for  him  ,  but  hasn’t  marcus  always  been  some  kind  of  special  case  ?  ❛    how  do  you  know  they  won’t  turn  her  against  you  ?  would  you  be  able  to  handle  that  ?        ❜    or  will  you  turn  on  me  ,  for  her  goes  left  unsaid  .