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the-ghost-king · 3 years

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Schizophrenic Nico, here's why I think it's possible:

I want to start off by saying these are just my thoughts, there is no one way to be schizophrenic or to have schizophrenia. It's also important to note that many of the schizophrenic symptoms overlap with other mental illnesses/nuerodivergences like ADHD, Autism, Depression, and OCD which I know many people who head canon Nico as having. I'm not arguing schizophrenic Nico is more correct, more canon, or more right, but to explain some thoughts on why I think it's possible/very likely he does so I can use this for future reference in various thing.

I am using the term schizophrenia as a catchall for all "types" of schizophrenia, but not for schizoaffective disorder which I would say Nico probably doesn't have.

Children born in the winter/those who were "sickly" as babies are more likely to develop schizophrenia. It may also be possible if your mother was sick while pregnant with you, or having a father who was significantly older when he had you.

A stressful life, especially trauma, are more likely to develop schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder. It likely has something to do with excessive dopamine production, but it may also have something to do with the same genes that control the sleep-wake cycle. Schizophrenia is more common with other mental illnesses or with other nuerodivergences or developmental delays.

Common symptoms include:

Hallucinations

Delusions

Disorganized thinking

lack of motivation

slow movement

change in sleep patterns

poor grooming or hygiene

changes in body language and emotions

less interest in social activities

Now what does this mean for Nico, and why do I think it's likely he has Schizophrenia?

Let's start with Nico's childhood, "children born in the winter/those who were "sickly" as babies are more likely to develop schizophrenia". Although Rick proposed two birthdays for Nico, the fandom generally accepted the January date more fully. We also know that Nico is described as small when he was younger, smallness is common in children who grow up sickly, but it is also common in children who's mother was ill while pregnant with them. We obviously don't know if Nico was sick as a kid, or if Maria was sick while pregnant with him, but again being born in the winter makes these things more likely, as well as consideration for the time period Nico grew up in and the larger variety of illnesses going around at the time. (He is vaccinated against some things though).

Trauma and Nico... do I really have to go into super detail on this one? He spent his childhood growing up in a fascist country that was extremely racist/anti-Semitic/homophobic/etc, his mom died when he was a child- in front of him, his father intentionally gave him amnesia, his sister died when he was a child, he then proceeded to become homeless living/spending lots of time with Minos who verbally (and possibly physically) abused him, becoming aware of his past memories, becoming aware of the fact that many people hated him because of his father and because they thought he was joining the other side (therefore, he was "bad"), he fought in many battles as a child, fought monsters alone, was often faced with life or death situations, went to Tartarus alone (where the goddess of misery told him he was "perfect"), was trapped in a hostage situation with little/no air for a long time while people debated whether or not to save him, was outed against his will, was freed only to travel again fighting monsters and then win a battle, was eventually made to quest with Apollo despite still having lots of healing to do in ToN. So stressful life? Fuck yeah, that doesn't being to cover it.

Genetic factors, obviously nothing here is confirmed so I'm speculating a little bit again, but the common idea in regards to Hades children through the series is that they are "bad". Mental illnesses have been stigmatized for hundreds, if not thousands of years, and often mentally ill people were made out to be weird/bad/etc. It's more than possible there is some sort of genetic factor taking place, also "having a father who was significantly older when he had you". Although I doubt godly genes work the same as mortal ones (trust me I have lots of thoughts on how god genetics/DNA work, but that's not the point right now), I think Hades being the oldest out of all his brothers and having a reputation for having "questionable" children says something... We have no information on Maria's family history at all.

As for schizophrenia often occurring with other mental illnesses and/or neurodivergences: Nico canonically is implied to have either ADHD and/or Autism, and is canonically stated to have PTSD. I think most people would agree that saying Nico has or has had depression isn't a stretch in the slightest.

So canonically we can all agree Nico has severe trauma and coinciding mental health issues/neurodivergences, so out of 4 possible issues I’ve first presented we guaranteeably have two. If I wanted to stretch this a little I would give myself a half point for him being born in the winter and a half point for the aspect of Hades genetics but I won’t do that.

On top of that schizophrenia usually appears during teenage and young adult years in people who receive diagnosis; most people live with mental illness for a few months or a few years in some cases before they're able to receive a diagnosis. Nico being 15 (16 by the end of ToN/shortly following the end of ToN) is about the age that schizophrenia would start to make an appearance. It's also more likely to be found in men, with men also noticing the appearance of schizophrenia appearing early in their lives, and experiencing more negative symptoms in comparison to the higher commonality of affective symptoms in women. That's a really complicated explanation to basically say there's 3 more things that would make Nico having schizophrenia make more sense.

Alright, let’s go back to the list of symptoms I provided:

Hallucinations

Delusions

Disorganized thinking

lack of motivation

slow movement

change in sleep patterns

poor grooming or hygiene

changes in body language and emotions/behavior

less interest in social activities

Once again, some of these are not solely related to schizophrenia and can be the result of other mental health issues, I’m just going to go down the list and add in some moments from the books in which Nico shows some of these traits/behaviors.

Delusions/Hallucinations (more later)

Our best chances for understanding Nico's thought process is in Blood of Olympus where he has a P.O.V... Sometimes Nico's thoughts do derail, or sometimes they get a little confusing, but not always, and when talking to others he is consistent and aware of what he's saying, as well as blunt. Anything "off" about his thought patterns to me just seems like ADHD..

Dietary changes (whether or not you think he has an eating disorder) are behavioral changes (I personally think Nico has AFRID)

Within House of Hades Nico's poor sleep patterns are constantly referenced, and I'll give him a pass on poor hygiene because he's in the middle of a quest but still..

I have extremely complicated feelings on what Will says here, it's possible Nico is an extremely unreliable narrator (unlikely, it seems many people are bothered by him and only maybe a handful aren't), I've also thought at many points this was Rick trying to backtrack some stuff with Nico because he realized he'd made his story a little too harsh for a kids book, it could also be Will's trauma kicking in and that happening... I'm not counting it as full proof about Nico disliking social interactions, but Nico does try to leave even after this conversation and isn't convinced to stay until the last chapter, so maybe there's something to be said about people's dislike of him for being a Hades kid- but I think it's fair to say Nico also dislikes people at least some because he doesn't have interest in trying to befriend anyone either, and is quick to assume all people dislike him (paranoia/low self esteem/and some other possible stuff). There's lots of discussions to be had about this quote and other similar ones, and I don't think a broad brush approach of "Nico good everyone else bad" is accurate it's more, "Nico is good but he fails to try and you have to work on your own mental health everyone won just go to you, and also people dislike Nico for silly reasons and need to get over themselves and make an effort too". (I'm extremely oversimplifying my thoughts and feelings to keep it brief.)

More on delusions and hallucinations:

Now I want to state that lots of schizophrenia symptoms share a lot of commonalities with ADHD and with depression, so although I might include some moments you think are just ADHD/depression I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with you but they could also be schizophrenia or coexisting mental health issues/divergences. I also went through the DSM-5 for schizophrenia (the DSM-5 is just this big book with lists and it’s how doctors diagnose any mental health issue/divergence), I also looked through the DSM-IV (an older book from before DSM-5 which is no longer really used) and the differences between the diagnosis was fairly minimal but they quit categorizing types of schizophrenia and instead rely more on a couple of word descriptions that seem more in line with a spectrum rather than a checkable box.

In order to receive a schizophrenia diagnosis, two (or more) of the following, each present for a significant portion of time during a 1-month period (or less if successfully treated), and at least one of these symptoms must be (1), (2), or (3):

Delusions

Hallucinations

Disorganized speech (frequent derailment or incoherence)

Grossly disorganized or catatonic behavior

Negative symptoms (i.e., diminished emotional expression or avolition).

It’s important to note that only one of these need to be checked off/true if the patient has voices which narrate their actions/behaviors/thoughts or if the person has more than one voice conversing with each other.

Nico deals with auditory hallucinations (2), he believes the voice belongs to Bob, his titan friend he left in Tartarus:

However this isn’t and immediate diagnosis because Bob’s voice doesn’t talk to another voice(s) in Nico’s head, and we don’t know if Nico has voices running commentary on his behaviors/thoughts.

The reason I state we are unaware if Nico has commentary isn’t because Nico hasn’t said anything, but because many people with schizophrenia before their diagnosis believe the narrative voices are just their thoughts and are a normal internal monologue- usually patients don’t realize anything is wrong until the voices start providing commentary on their actions so instead of “washing the dishes now” the voice(s) might say “wash the dishes now, you’re so lazy you can’t do anything, idiot” during a period of psychosis which may help them acknowledge that the voice(s) isn’t the way most people experience internal voice(s). It is very possible Nico is unaware he is experiencing narrative thoughts and simply assumes that his experience is something most people have, but I won’t use this to argue my point because it’s not confirmation of anything.

Returning now to Bob, Nico knows he is hearing Bob’s voice but he believes Bob is calling to him from Tartarus. Now, Nico says the voices are calling to him from Tartarus but there’s no confirmation of this anywhere… What I think is happening is Nico has a guilty conscience. He feels bad for “using” Bob to get out of Tartarus and various other things, so he feels bad that he is still down there. However, we don’t really know if Bob is calling to him or if Bob is able to do that- what I personally think is happening here is Nico’s brain is convincing Nico that Bob needs him because Nico is upset with himself for not helping Bob more, but also because Nico has never “sat still” before without a quest. Nico has also always felt the want to be needed/important...

It very well could be a delusion.

Schizophrenic patients often experience delusions which make them think they are destined for greatness, or that they have some divine/high force calling out to them for help that only they can provide. It’s an extremely common thing in individuals who experience delusions, and is in fact one of the most common delusions experienced. So although Bob could really be calling out to Nico, I don’t think he is, it doesn’t entirely make sense and there’s lots of little things which point to it being not entirely real- like the fact that nobody else knows about it? Or how absolutely sure Nico is that he need to return to Tartarus? It seems like a mixture of PTSD, delusions, and trauma response (returning to the trauma), working against him. I’ll say delusion is very likely (1).

Using these two factors alone there’s sufficient evidence for diagnosis, but let’s keep going just to see.

For disorganized speech (3) this isn’t something Nico seems to struggle with, and even if he did “derailing” could be ADHD or Autism, so I don’t think this symptom pertains to him.

Changes in behavior (4), seem to all be explainable via depression and/or PTSD- he has begun to express emotion again in Tower of Nero upon learning of Jason’s death he is said to be upset by Will and he walks off to be alone, seems like depression to me. Emotional/Behavior changes from schizophrenia tend to relate more to bipolar disorder rather than a depressive disorder, so I would say if Nico has schizophrenia he probably doesn’t have emotional or behavioral changes from it. If he did he might have some catatonic behavior, but this seems to be clearing up some in Tower of Nero so I’m not super sure on that, maybe during bad periods of psychosis behavioral changes occur, but I would lean more towards this isn’t a symptom Nico personally deals with. Negative symptoms (5) tie into this same idea, it’s possible it’s schizophrenia, but it’s more likely PTSD or depression at work.

So why do I care so much about the possibility of Nico being schizophrenic?

I feel like canonically/fanonically making Nico schizophrenic does a few things, firstly schizophrenic rep in media is extremely extremely awful- can you think off the top of your head of a schizophrenic character who isn't from a horror film/a murder/a villain in their own story? Maybe, but personally I can only think of one which is Charlie from Perks of Being a Wallflower- and even then? That's not canon, it's only implied- and it might not even be true

Schizophrenic media representation always paints schizophrenic people as bad, scary, and evil, and although the horror genre is extremely well known for being super ableist, transphobic, racist, homophobic, and misogynistic (just the final cherry on top) having one of the first- if not the first openly confirmed schizophrenic characters in children's media not only be someone who has lots of character development, and isn't a stereotype, but also be someone people have grown up with, cared for, and sympathized with- would be extremely monumental.

People with schizophrenia and other related disorders aren't something to be scared of or to think of as bad, and often times they're more bothered by whatever they're experiencing than you are.

I don't have schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder or anything like that, but I have various undiagnosed mental health issues which often lead to me questioning reality, or having to set aside time to convince myself that no there isn't a man living in my wall... Having a character have to question those things, work through those feelings, and learn to trust themselves and care for themselves even with those difficulties would be really great to see in media, not just for people with schizophrenia but also for people with similar/related disorders who might share symptoms see parts of their own struggles in a good, educative way.

I have to finish this in two parts because tumblr keeps breaking because there's too many words in my post lmao (2nd part here)

#nico di angelo #pjo #hoo #toa #percy jackson #will solace #solangelo

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atinytokki · 4 years

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Distant Daylight

iv. Apprenticeship

Yunho tried not to flinch at the slap delivered across his face. It stung, but the image of that bloody body, unmoving in the dirt, stung worse.

He knew he deserved it for what he did to the scar face boy, but the contempt in the headmaster’s eyes was solid proof that he had lost the only potential ally in this orphanage. Probably forever. His earlier mercy on that first day was forgotten.

It was several moments before steam stopped coming out of his ears and the man finally spoke.

“I’m moving you to the delinquents room in the south wing.”

Yunho looked up at him in shock.

“But you said we wouldn’t be separated—“

“I said you would not be separated if you didn’t cause trouble,” the headmaster was quick to cut him off. “You’ve only been here a month and already you’re starting fights.”

Yunho shook his head and began to plead. The composure he had maintained thus far was thrown out the window when it came to Gunho.

“But I didn’t start it, the boy attacked Gunho first! And he threatened him before, I tried to tell you!”

“Silence! Speak without permission again and I’ll hand you over to the jailhouse instead. They won’t be so forgiving there.”

Yunho’s mouth clicked shut. He was completely helpless again. With his bare hands, he had destroyed everything he had built in the past month. Everything he had done to try to feel normal again.

And worse, he didn’t even know if the scar face boy was alive.

Yunho was roughly escorted back to the east wing to pack up his things.

Gunho sat on his bed and sobbed, begging him not to go. It rent his heart in two because he wanted more than anything to stay, but there was nothing that could be done. The headmaster’s word was final.

That first night in the delinquents room, he pulled the blankets over his head and tried not to cry.

Gunho was sleeping alone without him, and the scar face boy’s friends were probably waiting to finish what he started.

No one would listen to a word out of Yunho’s mouth.

“No one’s going to adopt you now.”

Yunho looked up from where he had been staring across the great hall at Gunho and met eyes with the boy that was looking at him.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re in the delinquents room,” the boy said matter of factly. “Adopters don’t even glance in our direction.”

Yunho sighed and swallowed a tasteless bite of breakfast. He had figured as much, and it didn’t bother him as much as it ought to. He hadn’t wanted to be considered for adoption anyway.

“There is hope for your brother, though,” the boy went on, mouth full of food and paying no mind to it. “He seems nice and if he masters the pitiful orphan act, he has a chance.”

It was a passing remark from a stranger but it made Yunho’s heart skip a beat, because he was right.

There was a chance that Gunho might be adopted.

He had expressed interest, however briefly, and he was younger, cuter, quieter... not to mention that he didn’t have a delinquency record.

He could very easily be adopted and leave Yunho behind.

As Gunho gazed back at him longingly from the other side of the room, Yunho knew there was no way Gunho would let himself be permanently separated from his older brother.

But perhaps he wouldn’t have a choice.

“My name’s Sangwoo by the way.”

Again Yunho was drawn from the depths of his thoughts to rest his attention on the boy who was talking to him.

“Yunho,” he responded simply. It was hard to tell if this boy was actually being friendly or if he was just pretentious and couldn’t keep his nose out of other people’s business.

He wasn’t willing to toe the line more than he already had with this character. He looked older and bigger and the older boys were intimidating.

“I know,” Sangwoo said cheerfully. “All the others are talking about you.”

Yunho’s eyebrows shot up at this and he peeked at the rest of the delinquents table. “Really?”

“Of course! You’ve only been here a month and you beat another orphan within an inch of his life.”

The fact that Sangwoo and the other teenagers were impressed by this flew over Yunho’s head. “...He’s alive?”

Sangwoo shrugged and returned to his meal. “No one knows. He was moved to a hospital, though, so that means he wasn’t already dead when you finished with him at least.”

Yunho sighed with relief and sat back. It wasn’t a definitive answer but it was better than the bloody image ingrained in his mind alone.

“Your technique could use some work,” Sangwoo was saying. “But then again, you’re, what? Nine?”

“Eight, actually,” Yunho corrected him, ears burning red with embarrassment. He wasn’t hungry for breakfast anymore.

“And that boy was at least two years older than you, not to mention bigger, so well done for a first fight,” Sangwoo smiled at him. Something in that smile loosened Yunho and he decided to keep talking to him.

“How old are you, exactly?”

“Twelve. My voice hasn’t dropped yet but when it does, I’m going to read scary stories to the little kids,” he winked at him and Yunho frowned back.

“I’m not a little kid.”

“No, you’re not,” Sangwoo agreed, reaching over and ruffling Yunho’s crazy mop of hair. “You wouldn’t be scared, would you?”

Yunho shook his head resolutely.

“I was, at your age,” Sangwoo hummed, more serious now. Like he was remembering something Yunho didn’t know about.

“Did...something scary happen to you at my age?” Yunho’s voice was barely above a whisper, but Sangwoo’s nod indicated that he had heard it.

“My whole life has been a scary story,” came the quiet whisper.

Yunho didn’t get to ask him about it until that night as soon as the caretakers left. He wrapped his blanket around himself and padded over to Sangwoo’s bed.

The two sat there picking at stray threads while Sangwoo told him his life story.

Abandoned as an infant, in and out of orphanages and workhouses— even jail at one point.

“That’s because I stole a matchbox,” Sangwoo chuckled. “I didn’t use it for anything other than a light to read by, but they thought I was going to burn the orphanage down.”

His expression tightened into a grave mask as he entered his preteen years. “A family adopted me. Except it wasn’t because they liked me, they just wanted me to work for them.”

Sangwoo sighed and picked harder at the blanket. “They were downright abusive. And then they had the gall to return me and adopt someone else. I swore never to be adopted again after that.”

Yunho swallowed. So that was what awaited Gunho should he be chosen.

“What are you planning to do, then?” He asked when there was a pause in the hushed conversation. “What choice is there, apart from adoption?”

“As soon as you’re of age, they release you. Then you go out into the world and... try to make a living, I guess.”

“Without an apprenticeship? Or any inheritance whatsoever?” Yunho remembered from his lessons at the Academy how important these things were.

Sangwoo simply smirked at him. “There are other ways to become someone. As long as you can fend for yourself, you’ll be fine.”

As long as you can fend for yourself.

Yunho had what it took. He had the blind anger at the world that could be concentrated into pure power. He had the cleverness to survive from each meal to the next. But what skills he possessed had yet to be honed. There was something he still needed.

“Sangwoo, will you teach me?”

Through the low light of the lantern sitting between them, Yunho saw Sangwoo smile and nod.

“You’ll become even better than me.”

...

A/N: No, I didn’t forget this one ;) So begins the cycle of spinoff updates. If you want to vote for which member gets a spinoff next, send an ask or a message to let me know <3 Thanks for reading!

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#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez angst #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #yunho fanfic #ateez pirate concpet #ateez pirates #distant daylight #distant daylight.iv #tokki writes

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rosykims · 5 years

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DRAGON AGE QUESTIONS

tagged by: @nordxz thanks so much !!! *heart emoji*

favourite game of the series?

origins! although inquisition is very close as well. inquisition was my favourite for a very time, but like midway through last year i replayed origins and it just felt.....so good. i really struggled with enjoying dao because of the clunky fighting system but an amazing mutual introduced me to a mod that lets u skip fights basically lol, so i was just able to focus on the story/characters/exploration of the game, which just....made me realize how immensely beautiful the game actually is, and i fell in love all over again aaaaa

how did you discover dragon age?

i was a huge mass effect fan ! mass effect was the game that motivated me to make this blog, actually, and obviously through following people i saw a lot of posts from the da community as well. so i bought origins and inquisition (i had NO idea there was a da2 until half way through awakening lmao) and tried to play origins but HATED it gtrhutgrhugtr and then eventually gave it another try like a month later and completely loved it and now here we are

how many times you’ve played the games?

not as many times as some people on here have - i would say origins maybe four times, da2 maybe twice, inquisition three times. but that also doesnt count all the timesw ive created new games and then abandoned them lol bc theres too many to count

favourite race to play as?

love me some elf booty ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

favourite class?

at first it was rogue dual wielder ! i played as a rogue in every single first-time playthrough and idk i felt that class has always been the easiest/most op. but in the last maybe 2 years it’s changed to mage. ive always been super intimidated by magic classes in every game i play but i LOVE inquisition’s mage classes/specializations and i can never go back now

do you play through the games differently or do you make the same decisions each time?

im so so so bad and i usually end up making very similar choices, but usually bc i just......replay the same characters every time hgtuhgtruhgtrui. i REALLY need to make more da ocs to explore more choices but....i dont want to lol i already have to many. i still havent sided with the templars in a playthrough like i just cant do it

go-to adventuring group?

i always bring my characters love interest with them no matter what, just bc its cute, but usually i try to evenly cycle the other characters around that. i always try to have a warrior/rogue/mage in every party. but sometimes i’ll go warrior/warrior/mage/mage especially if i need to focus on straight damage and a LOT of healing lol

my favourite parties would probably be:

dao - alistair + zevran + wynne (wholesome and also funny)

da2 - anders + fenris + merrill (SO much chaotic energy)

dai - solas + cassandra + cole (i just love them ok)

which of your characters did you put the most thought into?

ashara lavellan, my canon inquisitor who was never supposed to be canon tghtgurhtrg. my original canon inq was a trevelyan rogue, who was super nice and good. i made ashara so that i could actually play as an evil/mean character without feeling bad lol, oh and i also wanted to see what the deal with solas was bc i had heard his romance was good ;;;;) anyway that backfired and i ended up completely falling in love with her, and i STILL couldnt make the tough choices with her so i was like ok maybe she isnt THAT evil and now shes just..... the way she is now i guess lmao

favourite romance?

trhhtruih okay u guys KNOW its solas. u know. i dont even have to say anythiing about it bc...u fucking know

(alistair’s is very close tho)

have you read any of the comics/books?

i havent :(((( im such a bad fan but i cannot deal with ordering online and thats the only place ive been able to find them. im planning on reading asunder and the masked empire as soon as i get the chance (and the money) tho !!

if you read them, which was your favourite book?

nope

favourite DLCs?

trespasser ! its pretty simple and very plot-driven like u didnt have to worry about side missions as much as u would with other dlcs so idk that was... refreshing. but obviously i loved it just bc it was so beautiful and intense and sad (since my chara romanced solas obviously) and that music score????? unbelievable i’ll never be over it

things that annoy you.

can i say the fandom trghuitgrhutrhui

mostly the thing that pisses me off the most is the grey morality. writers trying to make everything deep and Thought Provoking like..... no jerry, slavery IS bad theres no alternative viewpoint lol??????? also the fucking whitewashing makes me see red.

orlais or ferelden?

ferelden!!!!! (*blows a kiss* for highever)

templars or mages?

mages <3

if you have multiple characters, are they in different/parallel universes or in the same one?

i only have like 3 protag da characters and they’re all canon, although emeraude is an au. so ella is my canon warden and ashara is my canon inquisitor, but emeraude does exist in that universe, bc i hc she befriended the warden and alistair when they visited the alienage, and she was very outspokenly angry and didn’t really give a shit that alistair was going to be heir. which alistair really,,, appreciated i guess? so emeraude is made his official elven adviser after his coronation but she also kinda helps out as a royal protector because she’s one of the only people in court they both trust completely lol. also she is....stronk.

and the only other characters i have for da are obviously side characters who are related to my canon protags so. they’re all canon as well lol

what did you name your pets? (mabari, summoned animals, mounts, etc)

ella named her dog ser bark gthutgrhutghruihtr she thought it was cute ok

emeraude just went with barkspawn since alistair came up with the idea as a joke but she thought the joke was so bad she made them keep it as punishment vjhuightui

i dont really have a hawke oc but.....he named his dog shepard in my playthrough ! like from mass effect ;;;;)))

have you installed any mods?

origins is modded to hell and back and i genuinely couldn’t play the game without mods at this point. inquisition is slightly modded but im in the process of removing them all, and only keeping a few because my game runs pretty terribly with them installed

did your warden want to become a grey warden?

ella did ! but it was kind of,, a naive childhood dream, she had a really romanticized view of the wardens and she wanted a life of excitement and bravery and adventure, not really taking into consider all the bad things about it (and obviously not knowing the full truth about what it means to be a warden)

emeraude did NOT want to be a warden. she basically had to be dragged out of the alienage because she wanted to stay and protect her community. she never really enjoyed being a warden, although her friendship with alistair was its one redeeming quality

hawke’s personality?

uh i cant remember the colour/personality thing but he was a combo of funny/ethical. mostly there for memes tho.

did you make matching armor for your companions in inquisition?

for origins i do ! i always make sure alistair and ella wear the grey warden armour, as well as every warden in awakening. thats like, all theyre allowed to wear lmao.

if your character(s) could go back in time to change one thing, what would they change?

ella would obviously change her family’s murder lol, and emeraude would at least try and change what happened at her wedding, to prevent shianni and the others from being hurt.

ashara would change romancing solas :((( she was so angry at herself after discovering who he was, and she felt weak and foolish which she HATES more than any other feeling, so she definitely wishes she had never met him for a long time. after she kind of processes it though, and learns to deal with her anger, her answer would be that she wishes she had saved the chargers. it’s the one move she made that actually keeps her up at night sometimes.

do you have any headcanons about your character(s) that go against canon?

ghuitrhuigtrhugtr so many. canon? dont know her.

the biggest example would be that i hc king!alistair was at the winter palace during the wicked hearts level. because uh..... celene and the fereldan monarchs had been corrosponding for over 10 years, trying to build up rapport, of COURSE the king would be there to see who the potential ruler/s of orlais would be and whether or not he ought to be worried. like. im sorry but alistair was there lol you can’t change my mind. i also hc he helps ashara with information about the grey wardens during this chapter, because ???? it just makes sense??? im so angry i wish this was canon

are any of your characters based on someone?

ok it was unintentional but ashara reminds me of an english teacher i had in highschool who was very scary but also....really cool and i loved her. it was an accident but,, still counts.

who did you leave in the fade?

gtiturghtugh okay at the risk of pissing off EVERYBODY who reads this, i left hawke in the fade, even though it was a toss up between hawke and stroud. it was ashara’s fault tho !!! she would have 100% prioritzed an alliance with the grey wardens over like,, some guy. it broke my heart but yeah That happened.

favourite mount?

i like all the elk mounts mostly ! but i never use them bc they sound ugly af

tagging : @trvelyans @f3nharel @allisondraste @ensevens @tethraas @talizorah @fereldun if u are up to it <3 and whoever else wants to do this !

#/ long post #sorry this is so long i got carried away oops #dai #dao #da2 #personal

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xaeneron · 7 years

Text

On Daybreak

Living World Season 4 is here and I guess that means it’s time to babble a bit about the first episode, Daybreak!

Overall, the patch was a solid release, not without its bugs, but a solid release. I’m super glad to have something new to do (a lot of new things to do), especially with a new raid wing out 9 months after the release of Bastion of the Penitent. I am curious enough to stay tuned to see where the story goes, but I was definitely more distracted by the nostalgia factor than anything. The new zone was incredibly nostalgic for me as an old hat GW1 player, but before we start bullet-pointing, let’s put in a line break to avoid spoilers front and center.

In General

THANK GOD KEYRING.

QoL Astral Force refilling to full automatically after a party wipe in fractals and raids is a godsend. No more asking for corpses before every encounter/after every wipe. I am a happy druid.

The Binding of Ipos wasn’t exactly what I was expecting, but it’s an incredibly nice-looking focus. I like the floating book, but the demon hand is a bit of a deal-breaker for the characters I would use the focus on (i.e., Eet). Oh well. It’s detailed and has great animations, which is nice.

On Fractals (Twilight Oasis, instability changes, Deroir)

I find it really amusing and fantastic that the new fractal vendor is named after Deroir. Props to him; he’s done a lot for the fractal community and it’s awesome that he got recognition like Dulfy and WP.

The new fractal relic sinks are hilarious and ridiculous. When they said sinks, they meant sinks. I have a few months’ worth of everything saved up (infusions, [pristine] fractal relics, integrated fractal matrices, pages, etc.) and I was only able to afford the first level of mist attunement. So much raw stuff.

The karma one seems most useful to actually max though.

I wish they had introduced more things to buy with cosmic essences (from Shattered Observatory CM), or trades for them. I have almost enough for an infusion and a tonic, but I want neither. ;-;

Fractal Vindicators are actually a bit of a threat? More than Fractal Avengers anyway.

I haven’t tried the Molten Boss rework yet, but the Mai Trin rework is amusing. And I’m glad that you can push through the timegate cannon section.

Not having Social Awkwardness on Nightmare and Shattered Observatory is hilariously nice. Like seriously they’ve honestly gotten easier.

Speaking of, SO still has a bunch of bugs. SURPRISE. Although it sounds like the fractal dev found the problem, so...we’ll see?

Twilight Oasis was...dark. Like twilight. /shot

Okay but really. Playing as Sunspear traitors and helping Palawa Joko by slaughtering Sunspears and villagers is dark. And you get an achievement for stomping all the injured people.

Dying and being resurrected by Joko was confusing but pretty great? Also boing.

Dervish feels.

That ending doe.

On Hall of Chains

NEW RAID. IN THE UNDERWORLD. I AM A HAPPY HUMAN. SALAD. MIDGET. THING.

I’m super excited about the Underworld and Dhuum. Stuff that hasn’t been touched on in years, and a good bit of lore that I’m glad that they were able to find a way to visit again.

Also the encounters, particularly Dhuum, look legitimately challenging. I’m so excited to go hit Dhuum and die repeatedly.

We’ve been poking the new raid this week and I might post some progress stuff later on? We only have a few bite-sized sessions each week so we can’t spam it for hours on end like others, but we’re making progress and it’s exciting! Having new stuff to do is fantastic.

We have a lot of stupid deaths (including dying immediately on flying in because someone didn’t take the champion buff) already and it’s amazing.

I saw the ending cutscene. I have so many Underworld feels. Dhuum’s fight seems very reminiscent of his fight back in GW1, which is pretty clever. And nostalgic.

I kind of wish Anet would hide Glenna’s vendor items tied to each boss in her inventory instead of just having them greyed out. You can spoil the whole wing by scrolling down and seeing there’s a Dhuum mini. Oh well.

Hi Gwen.

On the Domain of Istan

There are so many “Praise Joko!” and “TO VABBI!” references. When we found out that you could drink from the fountains of Joko in the main hall before destroying them and would shout “Praise Joko!” every time, we kept clicking them repeatedly hoping for a hidden achievement. rip.

Nostalgia feels everywhere. I didn’t think I missed Istan, but I guess I missed Istan. Also super exciting that they kept most of the geography the same. Kamadan/Palawadan is set up essentially the way it was in GW1, except it’s been Joko’d. They’ve been consistent about doing that for a lot of things now, things like the location of the Temple of the Ages and Droknar’s Forge and things like that), but seriously. Kudos. I’s happy. xD

I find the zone pretty and interesting to run around in. There’s a lot of random little achievements and random places to make use of different mounts.

Bunny-hopping all over the cliffs is life.

So is griffoning. Good god it’s nice to griffon places and just fly around and look at things.

The meta events are amusing, and I enjoyed running into Amala again (after Twilight Oasis and the story). Also raiding Palawadan. Fun events with a relatively forgiving timer.

Although I’m disappointed that people are already “multilooting” these. You’d think Anet would have learned their lesson from AB multiloot and made account caps on the chests per cycle.

On the story (Daybreak)

Hi Aurene. You got bigger. And less cute. But still Aurene. So. pls come back ;-;

Rytlock and Canach continue to amuse. Best bromance 10/10.

I said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m not sure why anyone would be surprised that Kralkatorrik is now obnoxiously powerful. Letting it absorb a couple Elder Dragons’ worth of magic will do that.

I know some people get upset with all the one-liners, and honestly sometimes they are a bit to much and could be done without to keep tension going, but I appreciated a lot of them. Especially since the characterization of the PC is very close to a general perspective of how Ive normally reacts to things - with dry humor and snark to prevent himself from getting overwhelmed.

“I died once. It’s overrated.”

KOSS. OMG KOSS. Another sad fate for a GW1 hero (alongside the fate of Tahlkora), but nice to talk to him again.

Although the encounter definitely shows that the story instances are tuned to 1-2 people. We did it with 3-4 at various times looking for achieves, and absolutely murdered him before his first breakbar showed up. Welp.

References to a bunch of old characters from GW1 ayyyy

I love the fact that the prison cell break is unique per class. I didn’t think much of it because Ive is a thief and picking the lock just seems like the reasonable thing to do, not the thiefy thing to do, but they’re class unique! I replayed it with Cyra (my adorable sparkle charr) just to see the Legendary Prisoner Stance (Palawa Joko).

Fahranur. Oh my god. From the ibogas outside to the giant smashy bells. Nostalgia everywhere. I love that these elements came back.

Seriously Joko wtf.

What are these bugs you’re experimenting on.

Joko pls.

That’s a lot of dead Inquest.

Hi Braham. No, I didn’t really want to see you again. Thanks for acting like it’s all my fault. Which it honestly is, but hey. Still a grump. At least Rox is here?

I am curious that Anet brought him back here and now. But I’m willing to see what they planned for him.

Also news that Awakened are portaling around Tyria is mildly stressful.

Taimi’s voice actor, Debby Derryberry. A+ work. That sense of fear and dread from Hero of Istan through Fahranur, the First City was well done. Probably one of the highlights of the release. Happy that Taimi didn’t die though :>

...to Vabbi?

#guild wars 2 #gw2 #living world season 4 #living world season 4 spoilers #Daybreak #story chatter a bit spotty this time #but I got super distracted by Hall of Chains #ahhhh #months of eh and now plenty of things to do #yay

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saiblln · 7 years

Text

Story of Sai: A Two-Time Cancer Survivor

By Marisse Lee

Sai Belloan, a young lady aged 21, is one of those souls I happened to meet by serendipity in the virtual world of Facebook. A twist of fate, I would like to call it that way.

If you check out her FB profile she would strike you as just another normal young woman who likes Game of Thrones and, most likely, has a crush on Kit Harington (lol, now, who wouldn’t anyway?); dogs; Justin Bieber (oh go and love yourself); Friends(again, who wouldn’t?); and must have, once recently, fall madly in love with K-Drama(Korean drama TV series) and the Ken-doll like Korean actors. Pretty much like everyone in her age in this country, I bet.

She is blessed with a lovely face and a lovely family. She is the youngest of two siblings borne from a family who earns their living from manufacturing shoes and bags. She was, therefore, living a normal and comfortable life until this huge challenge came along in her life at the age of 15.

She was afflicted with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. The Mayo clinic described it as: “a cancer of the lymphatic system, which is part of your immune system. In Hodgkin’s lymphoma, cells in the lymphatic system grow abnormally and may spread beyond the lymphatic system. As Hodgkin’s lymphoma progresses, it compromises your body’s ability to fight infection.” Its symptoms include fever, night sweats and weight loss and oftentimes, the presence of a non-painful enlarged lymph nodes in the neck, under the arm or in the groin area. Feeling tired and itchiness may be felt by those affected with this type.

In Sai’s case, the symptoms consisted of itchy skin, persistent dry cough for 3 months (the phlegm was laced with blood in the latter stage), fatigue and a lump in her neck that was biopsied (via sample taken thru needle-aspiration) but with negative result. However, after surgery and another biopsy, the lump turned out as positive. She went through a treatment consisting of 4 cycles of chemotheraphy. Note that HL type of cancer has a high survival rate especially in the case of young patients. She recovered and was cancer-free for the next 4 years. She graduated valedictorian from high school and went to University of Sto. Tomas to study BS Finance. She was enjoying a carefree life like any teenager…but, BOOM! Just like that, cancer re-appeared.

Everyone had, one time or another, a brush with pain and sorrow. We all learn to deal with it, let go and then move on. However, nothing will ever prepare for anyone to have another tryst with the same demon. That would be devastating to say the least. You already looked this devil in its eyes. You weathered the storm…and yet, it is back. Staring you in the face.

Initially, Sai worried that she might undergo stem-cell-transplant, a treatment that is being touted as highly effective in treating cancer cases (I have different un-expert opinion on this matter but it is irrelevant to discuss it here so let us save that for another day) but it is quite expensive in the Philippines (approximately $50,000 or more). Fortunately (financially speaking), her doctors put her under the first-line-of-defense treatment which means she had to undergo 6 cycles of chemotheraphy to get rid of the cancer cells.

A trip to the hospital for each cycle which is equivalent to 2 sessions is a “trip to hell”according to Sai. She was in constant pain. What with being poked by needles so many times to insert the IV-line…when a battered vein refused to take in the meds, they will simply poke another one to go on with the treatment. I will never understand how a 21-year old was able to handle all that. But she did. After each session, she would hurt from the side effects of chemotherapy: bone/muscle/body pains, shortness of breath and soreness of veins. Alongside with that, she had suffered “moon face” (steroids side effect), uncontrolled eating and insomnia. But, thanks to God, she is, again, in remission – free from cancer once more.

Now, why the heck am I writing this story? Well, people, cancer is not just like having a flu, recovering from it, then going back to your routine. NOT AT ALL. Sai was in college when her HL cancer recurred. She was building her dreams…looking forward to finishing school because she remembered how happy and proud her parents were when her older sister graduated from the university. She wanted to make them proud of her also. A typical dream of a child who dreamed of somehow paying back their folks’ sacrifices. She hoped to get ahead in life as that is what we were raised to do. One has to make a place under the sun. Cancer provided her a choice-less choice but to quit school.

She is cured, yes…still, she lives life with Damocles sword over her head afraid that the cancer may recur a third time. She is scared of having dreams for herself again because one day she might wake up losing them once more. She worried about her parents because they are getting old and she would not like to see them earning and putting up money for her treatment. She posted a long recount of her cancer tale on 22 July 2017 putting up a brave face against this odd…what she did not tell you much about is that she lives everyday like someone near a cliff…anxious, frightened to fall in that abyss.

Cancer changes a person. It makes you brave because you have no other recourse but to embrace courage. It makes you treasure life more because you have tasted what it is to almost lose it. It makes you cherish the people in your life because you are not sure how long is your time to share and spend with them. Nonetheless, at the same time, you always live with fear…less for yourself but more for the people you love and might leave behind. It is a harrowing tale that will continue to unfold every day of her life. It will take a very long while for her body to completely recover and regain back its maximum health…it will probably take double that time for Sai to be completely confident that things will be really okay.

She is thankful for the friendships she gained (strangers and otherwise) while she has been going through this challenge. Misery loves company, true. It may be “misery” but, from there, compassion and love bloom that only show our humanity in the face of adversity.

Right now, she is taking her time to recover. She would have wanted to go back to school right away to avoid the additional two years (thus, additional expenses) she may incur as a result of the implementation of K-12 Program in the Philippines. However, I tried to reason out with her that there are more important things other than college education…and that, at this time, priority should be given to her health; it, being given back to her for yet another chance. I love to mention here that Sai learned watercolor drawing by herself from the YouTube University (pun intended) while she was sick. When I asked her the other day what is she keeping herself busy with, she said: “Painting my bedroom.” Oh, the kid must be doing a Michelangelo on her ceiling, who knows?

She also continue to share stories of her friends that are still battling with cancer and seeking financial assistance in the hope that by sharing their posts she might be able to help find a charitable soul who may be willing to extend help. She established a Facebook group for HL and non-HL cancer patients which you can find through this link https://m.facebook.com/groups/1465490123521821.

Lastly, Sai never lost her faith that God is there for her and her family.

My goal in writing her story is not to educate you about cancer. Google can provide you with tons of information if you would like to read about it…neither am I seeking pity and consolation from you although understanding and compassion is very much welcome. If you are reading this, I am knocking at the door of love and kindness that reside in your heart, please hear my prayers:

1) I am begging you to show support to people who are suffering from cancer by sharing their stories especially those who are in need of financial assistance…that is the least we can do. By doing such, perhaps our efforts might lead to someone who has the means to help. It is shooting in the dark, yes, but who knows an arrow might find its way to the right heart.

2) If the cancer-patient is selling items to raise the money required for their treatment, we can either patronize his/her product or, again, help in the selling campaign (I do not have to remind you, though, to check authenticity of any such campaign before diving into it…Heaven knows how the Internet works these days).

3) If you have the financial means, kindly donate to their Go-Fund-Me

4) If none at all, sincere prayers will do. Humans are beings made of energy. Prayers are energy. You get the picture.

Having said that, please start with Ramon Christopher “Casi” Ramos Burgos. He is Sai’s friend…another soul suffering from non-HL cancer that she happened to befriend in the cancer community. Originally, we intended to write a story for Casi but he has been confined in the hospital and not available to provide details that we need. By sharing Sai’s story, you will be sharing Casi’s battle with cancer as well. If you are able, please check his Go-Fund-Me at https://www.gofundme.com/2ce3sqdw. Your financial help, whatever the amount, will be most appreciated.

Or, if you are interested in ordering cancer-awareness t-shirts, you can check this link to place your order https://www.facebook.com/iamcasimon/posts/1592362204139378.

PLEASE, I BEG YOU…share Sai’s story (and by that, sharing Casi’s plea) or kindly re-post Casi’s Go-Fund-Me link or help him raise the US$50,000 (it only has $500 so far, a loooooong way to go) by promoting the sale of his t-shirts. A simple click, a simple share is all we are asking from you. Maybe somehow, somewhere it would get result.

#hodgkins lymphoma #non hodgkins lymphoma #lymphoma #survivor #cancer #cancersurvivor #gofundme

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thatgirlonstage · 7 years

Link

Summary: Lance wakes up in a hospital on Earth to discover he has been missing for four months, with no memory of Voltron or the Galra. Drawn inexplicably to the desert where they found him, he discovers a hut full of research and notes that may provide the key to his missing memories. With secrets and conspiracies surrounding him, and the Garrison potentially hiding far more than he could ever have imagined, Lance grows to trust the notes in the desert - but he may not believe the person who claims he wrote them.

Chapter Three

Detective Hopkins clicked his pen over and over, the slight resistance and release satisfying under his finger. His eyes glazed over as he stared at the screen in front of him, his brain grinding to a halt knowing he had memorized every single word. At approximately 19:30, Pidge left the dining hall, presumably returning to his room. Approximately 21:15, Garrison student Lauren Pike saw Lance and Hunk leaving the student lounge shortly before the lights out at 21:30. Those were the last times anyone saw them. Approximately 22:00, something crashed in the desert less than a mile from the Garrison, prompting a lockdown of the facility in case it was some kind of attack. The object was later identified as a meteor. Approximately, 22:10, a scan to ensure the lockdown was in place and all students were in their dorms was interrupted by the discovery that Lance and Hunk were missing. Three minutes later, they found Pidge was missing as well. At 22:41, a search of the entire facility concluded all three students were nowhere on the premises. That was the last thing anyone knew about them until Lance Sanchez appeared in the desert four months later like he materialized out of thin air.

“Not struck by divine inspiration yet?” He looked up to see his partner, four feet eleven inches of good-natured sarcasm and round cheeks named Cho. “Here. Coffee.” Hopkins took the thin Styrofoam cup gratefully, grimacing at the cheap bitterness.

“Did we hear back from that specialist we brought in to look at the fibers in Lance’s clothing?” he asked, swiping back to his computer home screen. He couldn’t stand to keep looking at the mockingly thin case file. Cho took a gulp from her own coffee before answering.

“Yeah, but he wasn’t any help. He couldn’t identify them either. Muttered something about experimental synthetic fabrics and high-tailed it out of there.” Hopkins groaned.

“So we’re still at zero.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think we could investigate the illegal fabric experimentation angle. I hear Batman’s been looking into it.” She shot him a tired smile, which he did not return.

“I’m willing to try anything. If Lance is still alive it raises the odds that Hunk and Pidge are as well. There has to be some kind of clue—”

“Detective Hopkins?” The brand new nervous, mousy secretary was standing five feet away from the desk, twisting her fingers nervously. Hopkins drew a blank trying to recall her name. He squinted, trying to make out her nametag, but stopped when he realized it probably looked like he was ogling her chest.

“Yes?” he asked, taking another swallow of coffee to cover his confusion.

“Lance Sanchez is out in the lobby. He said he wanted to talk to you?” Hopkins and Cho glanced at each other, and Hopkins shoved his coffee aside.

“Yes, yes – please, send him in right away,” he said. The secretary bobbed her head and darted away, weaving expertly through the morning rush. Hopkins sat back in his chair, frowning. “I wonder why he didn’t just call?” he asked. Cho shrugged.

“The thrill of meeting a crowd of tired policemen?” she asked.

Lance, when Hopkins caught sight of him picking his way in between desks towards them, did not look especially thrilled. He kept his eyes trained on his feet and his body quivered with nerves. Shadows under his eyes belied a sleepless night, even though he did still look significantly healthier than he had in the hospital, pale as the bed sheets with worry for his friends and scratching at the IVs running through his arm like they were handcuffs holding him down. Hopkins jumped up and greeted him with as warm a smile as he could muster, fighting back the sluggishness of his own too-long unproductive nights, and led him gently to a more private room – the nice one, where he sat Lance down on a worn blue sofa with his own Styrofoam cup of coffee on the low wooden table in front of him, the one where they took frightened or devastated family members, ignoring Cho’s raised eyebrow as he did so. However bizarre the circumstances of his disappearance and reappearance were, Hopkins still felt sure this uncertain sixteen-year-old kid was far more likely to be the victim of a crime than the perpetrator of one. There was no reason to stick him in an interrogation room – or at least, not yet. He sat back and waited for Lance to talk.

He took his time about it, warming his hands on the cup, making a few offhand, distracted comments about the weather and the sofa’s upholstery as he struggled to get to the point. Hopkins kept his responses short, trying not to start a meaningless conversation. Finally, he decided on a gentle prompt.

“Did you remember something?” he asked. Lance rubbed the lip of the Styrofoam cup between his fingers.

“Yes?” he said finally. “Maybe. I’m not sure.” Hopkins sat forward, his heart pounding. Right now, he’d take anything. Any lead might be enough to crack the case open – or at least give him something, anything to do besides read over the near-empty case file another dozen times. Lance bit his lip, and then continued. “Do you… There was a student at the Garrison named Keith Kogane. He got kicked out about seven months ago – or, well, I guess that’s eleven months ago now. Do you… know where he went?” Hopkins blinked, frowning. The name rang a dim bell, but he couldn’t remember why.

“Why is Keith Kogane important?” he asked. Lance ran his hands in opposite directions along the side of the cup, spinning it slowly.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I remember his face, that’s pretty much it. Oh, and I think I was hurt? I was hurt and he was there.” Hopkins scribbled Keith’s name onto his notepad and clicked his pen slowly, choosing his words carefully.

“Do you remember how you were hurt?” he asked. “Was something cut open, or were you bruised, or was there a bone broken…?” Lance shrugged, a slightly oversized dark brown jacket shifting and folding on his shoulders. It must be brand new – a forgotten tag hung out of the bottom with a bold red 25% off scrawled across it in Sharpie.

“Not really. I don’t… I don’t think I was bleeding or anything, but I could be wrong. I just remember everything hurt a lot. It was tough to breathe and I kept, uh, I kept losing consciousness.” He scribbled these details into his notebook surrounded by question marks. The doctor had said there was no sign of any recent traumatic injuries, but Lance’s description sounded like the poor kid had been beaten within an inch of his life.

“Okay,” he said. Lance still wouldn’t quite look at him, gaze trained on the coffee. Hopkins’ eyes raked over him, as if there might be answers written on his skin if he could just catch the light at the right angle to see them. “So, Keith. Was he the one hurting you, or—?”

“No!” Lance’s head shot up, his eyes wide, and his hands tightened until they almost crumpled the cup. He blinked, seeming surprised by his own vehemence. “I… I mean… No, I’m pretty certain he didn’t hurt me. I wasn’t afraid of him or anything. He was helping me, I think? And I was… When I saw him I felt… relieved? I don’t know why.” He paused, made a face, and let out a short humorless laugh. “I don’t know why he would help me. We were…” He trailed off, glancing up at Hopkins, and started again. “We didn’t exactly get along.” Hopkins asked a few more questions about how well Lance and Keith knew each other at the Garrison, whether Keith knew Hunk and Pidge as well (Pidge had arrived immediately after Keith left, that was at least marginally interesting), but he had a sneaking suspicion that this would get him nowhere. Finally, it became clear he’d wrung all he could out of this brief flash of memory, and he let the conversation slip into some mundane comments on his brother’s apartment while Lance finished his coffee, and pointing out the tag left hanging out of his jacket, which he ripped off in embarrassment. Hopkins showed him out of the station, Cho watching him intently from her desk, and then strode back in with determination.

His hands flew across his keyboard before he’d even sat all the way back down. He whistled as the long list of results for “Keith Kogane” scrolled past. An altercation with a Garrison lieutenant who subsequently dropped the charges, that was the most recent item, presumably what had gotten him kicked out – Hopkins would come back to that. Before he even got to that, though, there was a string of missing persons reports, every single one from different foster parents. Fifteen-year-old runaway, Fourteen-year-old runaway, Thirteen-year-old runaway… Ten-year-old runaway… Seven-year-old runaway… A slew of shoplifting and petty theft accusations accompanied the reports, settled with progressively heftier fines. He could see a pattern: run away, get caught shoplifting food, foster parents throw him back to the system rather than deal with a juvenile delinquent, rinse and repeat. It was a depressing cycle.

“Isn’t that the kid that broke some guy’s arm but he refused to press charges for it?” Hopkins jumped, finding Cho peering over his shoulder. She glanced over at him, their heads nearly level when he was sitting. “What’s he got to do with this?”

“Lance brought him up,” he said distractedly, scrolling back up the page to the assault accusation. “Do you remember the case?” he asked. Cho chewed her lip.

“Just remember Sanders complaining about it. Said she didn’t understand how the kid had even gotten into the Garrison in the first place, with his record. And then she didn’t understand why the Garrison insisted they handle it internally, since it landed somebody in the hospital.”

“Well, according to Lance, they kicked him out,” Hopkins said. The file on Keith’s most recent offense was sparse – it seemed there had been some confusion when a Lieutenant Meyers had landed in the hospital with a broken arm, an impressive black eye, and several more bruises turning him blue and purple. The police had been called in to investigate an assault, except when they got there Lieutenant Meyers insisted he hadn’t wanted the police involved and said that the Garrison would handle its own student. He frowned, reading over the account again. The people at Galaxy Garrison were reticent, he knew that, but something about this particular account sounded especially stilted and confused. “Cho, can you see if we can talk to Lieutenant Meyers?” She sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Oh yes, I’ll ask my ever-charming ‘town liaison.’ He’s always so helpful.” Hopkins ignored the sarcasm, pulling up the number for the local foster system.

“Good. I’m going to track down Keith Kogane and see what he knows.”

Lance’s feet took him wandering away from the police station, eyes fixed on the cracked and discolored pavement, scraggly desert-hardened weeds clawing their way up through the concrete. Motorcycles and cars trundled down the streets, interrupted at each intersection by a block of square-suited pedestrians sweating through their collars. He drifted away from the entrance to the bullet train which would take him back across town to Cal’s apartment, instead letting the wave of people guide him down the dusty streets to sleek and glassy skyscrapers with demure plaques beside their doors proclaiming the list of offices inside. The square-suited pedestrians leaked into these doors, gulping down coffee and fumbling briefcases as they went, until Lance found himself nearly alone on the streets again. He let his mind go blank, enjoying the cool morning breeze and the rhythm of his feet against the sidewalk. He only looked up when a gust of wind blew sand into his eyes.

Rubbing the sand away with his jacket sleeve, he found himself in Ridgeline Park, a thin strip of public space off the end of the business district. A few tough, gnarled trees stubbornly spread shade at intervals alongside benches where businessmen took their lunch breaks on cooler days, but a few feet away the shorn edge of a hill dropped off and left the park gaping at open sky, looking out over the town and to the desert beyond it. The Garrison was just barely visible as a dot on the horizon. His hair stirred in the breeze that gusted up and over the edge of the cliff, swirling sand and dust across the ground, dancing around the bottoms of the trees and piling up against bench legs. He breathed deeply. The air was fresh and clean here, and smelled of creosote.

He found his eyes drawn to the desert, running along the craggy lines of the mountains as if he could read the answers to his questions on the horizon. He felt an odd tug in his chest, as if getting closer was somehow the answer. The truth was buried out there somewhere, in his long blown-away footprints, in the hidden and sandblasted marks of human passage through that empty space.

“Remarkable view, isn’t it?” Lance jumped and turned to find a man wrapped in a quilted blanket, his hair spiked in every direction in a bad case of bed head, packing away a telescope.

“Um, oh yeah,” he said, startled, blinking out over the brick and concrete mass of the town. The sky arced blue and white above them. “It’s gorgeous.” The telescope man covered his mouth as he yawned.

“I fell asleep out here last night. I’m surprised no one came and kicked me out, that’s happened oh, hmm, five times before? The local police aren’t particularly fond of me, ha. ’Course you can’t be sure it was the police – there was this one time, you know, where it was some man that I have never seen before or since, and one of the numbers on his badge was scratched so it was illegible. He was probably a dark operative from the government out making sure no one saw the secret training exercises they do out there.” He jerked a wide ring-bound thumb at the Garrison. Lance felt his stomach sink into his feet. Just his luck, running into some wacked-out conspiracy theorist alone in a park.

“Were you stargazing?” he asked hopefully, indicating the telescope. He could talk stars. The man burst out laughing.

“Oh no,” he said. “Aliens, man. I’m out here looking for aliens.” Well, he should have seen that one coming.

“Oh,” he said, as neutrally as possible. He felt unreasonably jumpy. This was just one dude, and even if he was a little weird, he didn’t seem like he was about to attack or anything. So why was Lance’s stomach jittery with nerves? Why did he keep feeling a need to glance around as if to make sure no one was listening? The man was squinting at him through his thick glasses, when suddenly recognition dawned on his face.

“Hey, I know you!” he said, eyes and mouth wide. Lance took half a step backward. “You’re Lance Sanchez, one of the three guys that disappeared into the desert four months ago! And then mysteriously turned back up two weeks ago!”

“Oh, uh… yeah, yup, that’s me,” Lance said, backpedaling for real now. Why had he walked out here? This had been a stupid mistake. The telescope man advanced on him, eye glinting with fascinated zeal.

“Why aren’t they saying anything on the news about what happened to you? Where did you go? Were you kidnapped? What happened to your friends?” Lance’s jaw felt painfully tight, his teeth grinding against each other. “Who’s Pidge Gunderson? Was the Garrison involved in your disappearance? Did you and your two friends all disappear to the same place or were you alone? Are the police trying to cover something up? Are your friends still alive?”

“I don’t know!” he exploded. The man, startled, stopped moving forward. Lance’s fists were clenched by his side, his arms shaking with tension. “I don’t remember what happened to me! Stop asking me these questions, it’s none of your fucking business!” The man blinked twice, and then his eyes got, if somehow, even wider.

“You don’t remember?” he said breathlessly. “They erased your memory!”

“What?”

“The aliens!” he said. “The aliens who abducted you!” Lance’s fingers twitched with the urge to throttle this guy.

“You’re insane, and that’s not funny,” he said. “My friends are missing.” The man shook his head, scrambling in his bag for a notebook that he yanked out triumphantly.

“No no no, you don’t understand!” he said. “It’s not like the other times – I have evidence. Proof!” He flipped through the battered and dog-eared notebook before shoving a page with a blurry, dark picture paperclipped to it into Lance’s face. “Look!” he said. Lance squinted uncertainly at the picture. A fiery blur streaked down a diagonal angle on it, but the resolution was too low to make out what it was supposed to be. The man must have seen the skepticism in his face, because he sighed and tapped the photo with a broad, pasty finger. “I took this picture the night you and your friends disappeared,” he said. “Something fell from the sky that night.”

“Yeah, a meteor. I know,” Lance said. The man shook his head vehemently.

“That’s what the Garrison says, but apart from them no one really knows. If it really was just a meteor, why were they on lockdown all night? Even the police couldn’t get in until three hours after they discovered you were gone. And why did they take the meteor away before anyone else could get to it? I’m telling you it doesn’t add up!” He waved the picture again, and then sighed at the look of skepticism and disbelief on Lance’s face. “Fine,” he said. “You want more evidence? There was an explosion in the desert – well after the UFO crashed. I couldn’t see it, the mountains were in the way, but I heard it. And then the next day, this happened.” He flipped the page. There was an oddly bright blue streak across the mountainous backdrop. Lance just stared at the man, who snapped his notebook shut in annoyance. “It was moving too fast to see!” he grumbled. “But it was some kind of ship, I’m sure of it. It flew into space!”

“Right,” Lance said. “Are you done?” The man shoved the notebook back into his bag and then stuck one of his wide, stubby fingers in Lance’s face.

“You were abducted, kid, and the Garrison knows about it. Hell, maybe they even served you up to the aliens. Now they’ve erased your memory and let you go, but who knows for how long? I’d watch out if I were you.” Lance pulled back.

“Get away from me,” he said. The man turned away, muttering to himself as he packed up his telescope, and Lance took the opportunity to run. There was an entrance to the bullet train just a block away, and he practically fell down the stairs getting inside. He swiped his ticket across the turnstile and jumped on board the train heading back uptown, the doors sliding shut so close behind him they almost caught his jacket. He collapsed, too-long arms and legs folding up at odd angles to fit into the smooth plastic seat, and willed his heart to slow.

“He’s crazy,” he muttered to himself. “He’s some wacko who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” So why had that first picture burned itself into Lance’s mind? It shimmered before his eyes, blurry and unfocused, but he could almost picture it – something fiery streaking across the nighttime sky. A meteor, he told himself. He might have seen the meteor that fell. That was plausible.

Yet for some reason he didn’t quite believe it.

Lance eased the door open, slipping noiselessly back into the apartment, and just about suffered a heart attack when Cal’s voice boomed, “So where were you this morning?” His hand slipped on the knob and the door slammed shut behind him with a BANG. He jumped, startled a second time by the noise, and his other hand came up to clutch his chest.

“What was that, Cal, don’t scare me like that!” he panted. Cal, dressed in pale grey sweatpants and an exercise shirt that clung too closely to his broad shoulders, crossed his arms.

“Oh, so you speak English before noon, now.”

“What?” Lance asked, kicking off his shoes and making his way over to the kitchen counter, grabbing a bag of sandwich bread and dropping a piece in the toaster. Cal, standing by the coffee machine, watched him closely.

“You used to always kick up such a fuss about practicing English too early in the morning. But here it is, barely 10AM and not even thinking about it.”

“I did not do that.” Lance rolled his eyes. He edged past Cal and yanked the fridge door open, searching for butter.

“Louisa will back me up on this one – and Mamá and Papá will too.”

“You are so exaggerating. That happened one time when I’d slept for like three hours.”

“Oh, that is a blatant lie,” Cal said, retrieving a now-full coffee mug. He pulled a box full of artificial sugar packets from the corner of a cupboard and upended one over his coffee. Lance didn’t give him the dignity of a response, just snagged his toast between two fingers and dropped it onto a plate. “But seriously – where did you go? When I got up and you weren’t here I was convinced Mamá was about to bust through the door and see that I’d lost you. The police would really never find my body.”

“Just for a walk,” Lance said, trying to mash up the cold butter enough to spread it. “I didn’t sleep super well and I wanted fresh air.” He cringed a bit – that sounded painfully rehearsed. “Sorry I didn’t leave a note. I forgot you wake up freakishly early, and then I lost track of time.”

“7:30 isn’t freakish,” Cal muttered, and took a gulp of coffee. Lance set into his toast with too much enthusiasm, avoiding Cal’s eyes. “You know I meant to ask you �� speaking of walking – where were you planning to go in that desert anyway?” Lance swallowed and matched Cal’s glare.

“I don’t remember, Cal, why would you—?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “I know you don’t remember where you really went, but you know you were planning to sneak out, right? Except there’s nothing within walking distance of the Garrison, and the bullet only runs during school hours. So what were you planning to do?”

“Oh.” Lance shrugged. “Um… ‘borrow’ Louisa’s car. Pidge could hack anything, I’m sure he could have gotten us past the front gate.” The permanent frown between Cal’s eyebrows etched itself deeper.

“But Louisa’s car wasn’t missing,” he said. Lance paused, his finger caught chasing crumbs around his plate, and tried to read Cal’s expression.

“So…?”

“And it definitely wasn’t returned later, because the Garrison was in lockdown when they found out you were missing, and then it was swarming with police monitoring everyone going in and out.” Comprehension dawned on Lance’s face.

“So whatever happened, it started before we even left the Garrison,” he said. “Either… either something happened to us while we were still inside, or something changed our plans before we got out.” Lance chewed his lip, his finger pressed against a pile of breadcrumbs caught against the edge of his plate. “I don’t know who or what could have gotten into the Garrison without them knowing about it, especially after hours. But… what could possibly make us think running into the desert was a smart idea?” he muttered. He closed his eyes, willing any piece, any scrap of memory to surface, trying to push even just a few seconds later than he’d remembered before. The telescope man’s face floated behind his eyelids, taunting him with blurry pictures and crackpot theories that made his heart pound with inexplicable fear. “Hey, Cal? I said we saw Pidge going to the roof, right?” Cal nodded, watching him. “Well… I don’t want to sound crazy but… The roof has a good view of the desert and… it sounds like that meteor crashed within walking distance…” Cal frowned.

“You think you walked into the desert because of a meteor? After the Garrison was put on lockdown?”

“Maybe… we thought it wasn’t a meteor?” he said quietly. Cal was silent. Lance felt himself flush. “I sound crazy, I know! I’m just… I don’t know what happened, and I feel like I’m going crazy trying to come up with an explanation, and…”

“I was more concerned it was an inside job,” Cal said. Lance stared at him.

“Inside…?”

“If there’s no reason for you to have left the Garrison without Louisa’s car, and there’s no way some random stranger could have gotten into the Garrison and… carried you off, or whatever…”

“So, what, so you think one of the teachers at the Garrison – somebody from the military – what, chloroformed three random students and dragged us off, to, to, what? It makes no sense.” Lance banged his head against his hands in frustration. “Why us, anyway? What could possibly be special about me and Hunk and Pidge? I mean, Pidge I could maybe get, he’s like a technical prodigy, maybe somebody wants him to build their supervillain weapon or whatever. Hunk’s an engineer, he could probably help with that. So what does that make me, collateral damage? I saw something I shouldn’t have? Is that why I’m ali– here? Did my own kidnapper not want me, or—?”

“Lance.” He cut off sharply, head jolting up to look at Cal, who was suddenly directly beside him. “Breathe,” he ordered, and Lance took a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t know anything, okay? I’m just… I’m trying to help you think through what might have happened.” Lance jerked away, dropping his plate in the sink with a clatter.

“Well when you come up with the most logical scenario, let me know,” he said. “I know that’s your area of expertise.” He marched over to the door and pulled his shoes back on. “I have an appointment with that therapist person soon, I should go.”

“It’s not for another three hours,” Cal said.

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure where I’m going, so I’d rather just get there early.”

“Didn’t you and Mamá go meet him on Thurs—?”

“See you later, Cal.” Lance banged the door shut behind him.

Lance stood on the platform, shielded from the wind and dust by curved transparent plastic that offered a view of the open desert, empty but for the train track stretching away from the station and a road running alongside it. Smooth benches stood discreetly at intervals along the platform, offering places to wait. A digital display hung from the ceiling, counting down the minutes until the next train arrived. A single door led off the platform, back underground to the citywide bullet.

He pressed a hand against the plastic wall and leaned his forehead up against it, staring out into the desert. He had come here without thinking, without planning, but when the first train had pulled into the station, he had stopped short of climbing aboard. Three more trains had come through since then. Occasionally someone in a Garrison uniform joined him on the platform or exited a train, but there had been no one he recognized so far, and no one paid him any attention.

He was watching the desert. He was mesmerized. He felt like he could stand here all day, eyes following the clouds of dust and sand that swirled into the air, and then spiraled back to Earth. The crags of the mountains poked the sky in a comfortingly familiar pattern. He felt his whirling thoughts slip away, instead just drinking in the landscape, and breathed softly, his breath fogging the plastic wall just slightly. Staring out into the desert, he felt as if he could just walk out and find his memories, as if he’d dropped them while he was walking.

He sighed, turning to the door that led back underground. He was going to miss his therapist appointment. And he needed to go back and apologize to Cal.

“I miss flying.” Cal glanced up from his computer. Lance was lying sideways across his mattress, his feet and head hanging off it, the headphones abandoned beside him, La isla bookmarked less than twenty pages in and left on the sofa next to the air mattress. He tapped his heels restlessly against the floor. “I dream about flying. Maybe it would help, I dunno. But I’ve been going stir-crazy this past week.”

“I’ve noticed,” Cal said dryly. He hadn’t tried to bring up Lance’s memory since their first discussion about the Garrison, but Lance’s frustration with his therapist and total lack of progress in remembering anything had boiled over more than once into snapping at Cal. He took Lance’s apologies as he always had: with a shrug and a nod and a change of subject.

“I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have schoolwork to do,” Lance said, trying to pick patterns from the cracks in the ceiling. “I’m not used to being so… unoccupied.”

“You go out for hours every day, what do you do?” Lance shrugged, shoulders pulling at his bed sheet.

“Just walk. Try to remember,” he said vaguely. He hadn’t told Cal about his odd, unwilling obsession with the desert and he didn’t plan to. And it wasn’t really even a lie – it just omitted the part where he was usually walking on the very edge of town, staring out across the empty expanse where they’d found him. Cal fidgeted with his calculator.

“I have to go back to school tomorrow,” he said. “The dean’s going to be pissed at me if I take more time off of class.”

“Okay,” Lance said, on the verge of picking out a rabbit in the ceiling cracks, squinting for the outline of its tail.

“I spend pretty much the whole day there when I’m in class, so I won’t be around the apartment much except at night and on weekends.” Lance pushed himself up onto his elbow and sent a disparaging look at his older brother.

“Cal. I’m seventeen. I’ll be fine. You don’t need to babysit me.” Cal shrugged.

“Just letting you know.”

“Cool,” Lance replied, lying back down. The rabbit had vanished back into the maze of cracks. He sighed. “Hey Cal?”

“Mm?”

“You ever rented one of those hoverbikes?” Cal put his calculator down.

“You go rent one of those things and Mamá will kill both of us,” he said. Lance grinned sheepishly.

“Not if she doesn’t know about it,” he said. He craned his neck back to get an upside down view of Cal’s glare. “C’mon, man, I’m so bored. And it’s as close as I can get to flying without going back to the Garrison.”

“So go back to the Garrison. Or go home and go to our old simulator arcade.” Lance was quiet. He hadn’t heard anything from Detective Hopkins, and no more memories had surfaced out of his dreams. Still, the sense that he needed to stay hadn’t faded. If anything, it had only seemed to grow, to a point of urgency that was almost painful.

“Not yet,” he said quietly. Cal sighed, swiveling back to his computer.

“Well, like I said, I’ll be gone all day long,” he said, enunciating those last three words very clearly. “And I hear that place on Green Street has good rates,” he muttered as an afterthought. Lance grinned widely at his back.

“Calixto Sanchez, what do you get up to on the weekends? Louisa and I are shut up in the Garrison running extra flight simulations… Mamá and Papá are far away in Cuba… You’re right here in town, all by yourself…” Cal held up a finger, not looking at him.

“Don’t push your luck,” he growled. “Take a quick spin around the edge of town and nothing else, you hear?”

“Loud and clear,” Lance said. “Hey, Cal, did you know, in Hilbert space no one can hear you scream.”

“If you break your arm, physics jokes are not going to save you. Besides, you know I’ve heard that one already.” Lance took the hint and shut his mouth, pulling his headphones on, but he saw the slight smile on Cal’s face.

Lance had been on a hoverbike only a few times before, but they were simple enough to ride once you got your balance right. Within the hour, he was zipping around the open practice track, running impromptu races with some of the other thrill seekers until one or the other of them decided they needed a break to scrub the dust from their faces. He parked the bike at the edge of the track, staring out into the desert and breathing in the landscape. With the adrenaline rushing pleasantly through his veins and the sun beating down, he could almost imagine nothing was wrong.

Nothing had worked. His memory wasn’t coming back like Dr. Young had said it should, the therapist’s suggestions weren’t helping, the police hadn’t come back with any leads, he still had no idea what his flash of Keith Kogane’s face meant, and Hunk and Pidge were still out there somewhere, missing. The only thing he had was this unexplained pull back to the desert.

If he had stopped to think about it, he would never have gone. The idea was stupid bordering on insane. But it was the only idea he had, and he was beginning to feel like he would explode if he sat still any longer. Every moment of inaction cracked his skin, pushing out and out until he had to move, to change, to make a decision. The bikes were solar charged. It would work all day and several hours into the night. He’d brought a massive bottle of water and was slathered in sunscreen. He had nothing to lose.

Lance tightened the strap of his helmet and took off into the desert.

He rode without considering his destination. The bikes came with a built-in GPS system, so he’d have no trouble finding his way back to town. He zoomed across rock and sand, and found himself on the road to the Garrison, the bullet zipping past him on the parallel track. He veered off before he reached the end of the road, moving off into the open expanse of the land, the town eventually beginning to disappear behind him as mountains rose to block his view. He slowed as he approached a small but noticeable crater, the ground broken and uneven. Where the meteor had struck? He shook his head and continued, revving the bike, pushing it faster. His heart was thudding against his chest, a memory almost present in the back of his mind. He knew that a rock was looming up ahead, knew there was an open space this way. He yanked the bike to a halt as he hit the precipice of a cliff. He stared down, perplexed.

“I am going to die if I go over the edge of this cliff,” he said to the ground. “Well, I guess conceivably, if you could increase the lift on the hoverbike right before you hit the bottom that could cushion your fall enough to make it, but it would be insane to try.” Instead, he carefully picked his roundabout way down a narrow ledge, at one point even getting off the bike and pulling it behind him to edge along. By the time he hit the bottom, he had lost some of the urgency and bite of purpose that had sent him out into the desert in the first place. He glanced around, absently brushing dust from his clothes, disoriented and slightly embarrassed as the reality of what he was doing started to catch up with him. He took a gulp of water, and as he set it back in the bike, another half-remembered landmark caught his eye. Before he could lose it, he was back on the bike and zooming off again, chasing will-o’-the-wisp feelings through the rocky landscape.

He found himself back closer to the town again, though still far enough away that he could just barely make out the outline of skyscrapers in the distance. There were no roads, and the ground shifted from rock to sand, small dunes growing and vanishing beneath the wind. Yet in the middle of this empty landscape, a wooden hut appeared on the horizon. A tree stood beside it, a shock of green in a world of brown and yellow. Lance slowed as he approached it. The hut was small, probably barely more than a couple or three rooms, with a smaller concrete attachment on one side. Next to it stood a red and white hoverbike, though a much bigger and fancier model than Lance’s cheap rental. The broken remains of a fence a few feet away indicated some past history of a garden now long gone.

He slowed to a stop, parking the bike and climbing off it. He walked slowly up to the hut. Sand had collected on top of the hoverbike, on the porch, and in front of the doors, blown there by the wind and not cleared away by human passage.

“So no one’s been here for a while,” Lance mused quietly. Still, he paused by the foot of the stairs, and stepped up slowly, the boards creaking under his feet. Every step he took felt weighted, every squeak of wood and whistle of the wind made him pause, waiting for someone to burst out and challenge him. He made it onto the porch, knocked on the door, and waited, but only the sound of the desert wind greeted him. “Guess no one’s home,” he said. His heart thudded against his chest so fast it was painful. He took a deep breath, reached down, grasped the doorknob, and twisted it. The door swung open.

#*drop kicks my responsibilities*#my life is a dumpster fire #but at least it has good tv shows #ugh #now get this ugly mess of a chapter out of my face #writing it was good stress relief at least #voltron #my writing #written in sand #memory fic

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armyhealth9-blog · 5 years

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Episode 405 - Robb and Nicki Q&A #9

We're back with Q&A #9 with Robb and Nicki.

Remember to submit your own questions for Robb and Nicki to answer on a future show here: https://robbwolf.com/contact/submit-a-question-for-the-podcast/

Show Notes:

1. [2:06] Kidney Stones

Krisztian says: I've been mostly Paleo for about 5 years now based on one of your piror books. Overall, it has worked well for me, with one exception. I started to develop kidney stones on a regular basis. I finally had them analyzed and they turned out to be calcium oxalate stones. Upon reading up on this condition, it stems from a high amount of oxalate in the diet. Unfortunatley, most of the foods I liked on Paleo happen to be super high in oxalate... spinach, nuts, seeds, dark chocolate, sweet potatoes. The other wammy here is that I was initially avoiding dairy on Paleo which turns out to be worse for stones because one way to counteract high oxalate intake is to match it with high calcium to avoid stone formation. I've since gone back to eating plenty of cheese and high fat dairy in my diet.

I'm curious if this is a common issue that you've seen and I'm wondering if this is something that might be helped by going to a keto diet.

2. [5:33] Sugar addiction Kathryn says: Hey Robb, I am really hoping you can give me some insight into why I can't seem to fully recover from sugar addiction. I have had a sweet tooth my whole life, but in recent years I have learned that I have a true addiction to sugar. In the last four years or so, I have studied a lot of nutrition, functional medicine and ancestral health perspectives and gone on a strict paleo diet for months at a time. In almost every way, a clean diet of whole foods makes me feel amazing (better sleep, clearer skin, joints and movement feels better, etc.), except, I become very depressed. It's not a mopey, weepy kind of depressed, it's literally a depression of all feeling, like I feel very little at all. But I do sometimes feel really, really irritable, or sometimes bouts of rage that don’t match the situations they arise in. But most of the time, I just feel blah. I thought this would go away after a couple of weeks or even a month or two of eating clean, but it didn't. In happy or exciting moments, it was like I just couldn't feel those emotions fully. I also noticed that I didn't crack jokes like I usually do or feel like being social. All my feelings were dulled. Even sad ones. And when I did fall off the diet, and eat sugar, I immediately felt cheerful again. To me, it seems that the years of sugar abuse have altered my brain enough that without sugar, I can't feel normal emotions anymore. So my question is concerning healing my brain. Is it possible to reverse these effects? The longest I have gone on a strict paleo diet is three months. I admit it was hard to keep going when I just didn't see myself ever feeling happy again. If it's possible to heal my brain and increase its capacity for proper dopamine signaling again, are there certain therapies or supplements that can precipitate and accelerate that healing? Perhaps I am ignorant of some other factor or mechanism at work here. I would be grateful for any insight or help you can give. Thanks for the incredible work you do to bring to light the truth about human health and nutrition.

Notes:

Carb 22: https://carbsyndrome.com/nutraceuticals-new/

STEM Talk Episode 69 (David LeMay): https://www.ihmc.us/stemtalk/episode-69/

3. [11:32] Metabolic Flexibility and Weight Loss/Maintenance Julia says: Robb and Nicki, I am very interested in the concept of metabolic flexibility and eagerly waiting to hear your upcoming lecture on this topic. Intuitively it makes sense that given variation in season and climate that humans would have relied on a menu of macronutrient combinations. My question is: how can developing metabolic flexibility be used as tool for weight loss/maintenance? I have been about 90% ketogenic for the past 28 months; the other 10% would be high carb meals which I have allowed as a metabolically flexible person. I can swing in and out of ketosis with ease; however, I have noticed that if I go through periods of higher carb, it does result in weight gain which is tough to lose even when reentering ketosis. I do crossfit almost daily and practice the 18:6 IF schedule, and I don't notice either of those things affecting my performance. Thanks!

4. [16:31] Low afternoon energy

Laura says: Hi Robb and Nicki, Thank you both for all you do! I've been a huge fan since 2010 and admire your relentless pursuit of the truth when it comes to health and nutrition.

My question is about my extremely low energy in the early afternoons. I know it is a common complaint, but I feel like I've done everything I can to fix the common mistakes that lead to the afternoon slump, and I also feel like my exhaustion is too extreme to be normal for my age and health status.

I'm 32 years old, I eat low carbish (75-100g most days), have toyed with keto, eat mostly paleo with the addition of some dairy and occasional non gluten grains. I do crossfit 3x/week and spend most of my time chasing my 2 year old around. My sleep is good most of the time, and I do not have any major life stressors that effect me currently. No diagnosed health conditions, no rx meds.

I had bloodwork done recently, and my doctor was very impressed with the results, especially my blood lipids. A1c was 4.8, C-reactive protein 0.8, no thyroid antibodies present. Fasting blood sugar 78. The only things that were slightly out of range were homocysteine (slightly low at 4.6), Uric acid low at 2.4, serum iron slightly high at 148, and my free T3 was a little low at 2.5. Another Doctor years ago prescribed me naturethroid but I never took it.

Ive tried changing my diet in every way imaginable to try to combat a possible hypoglycemic or food sensitivity related slump after lunch. I've eliminated various foods that people can be sensitive to,and ive even tried more carbs in the morning, but that leads to blood sugar imbalance and cravings all day. As a result, my breakfasts and lunches would fall under the keto umbrella, as I feel better when I eat carbs later in the day.

The only thing that seems to slightly help is not eating at all, but I just get so hungry! My activity level is fairly high and I don't feel like I'm a great candidate for intermittent fasting at this point.

My mom, who has had MS for about 30 years, does not eat all day and only eats dinner because she's says eating makes her tired. I just can't handle not eating at all, and I do feel fatigued and hypoglycemic if I try to skip meals.

Thanks for reading and for all you do!!

5. [23:08] Carb test and ketosis

Carl says: Hey Robb,

I read Wired to Eat while I was pretty deep into a ketotic cycle, so I didn't immediately get to the 7-day carb test. Years of self-experimentation have led me to a relatively low carb (<50g/day) Paleo diet with an occasional 48 hour fast, an occasional ketotic cycle, and a very occasional carb re-feed. Genetic testing revealed some SNPs that predispose me to insulin resistance, and others that positively affect my fat metabolism, reinforcing the fact that I look, feel, and perform better eating in this fashion. I do enjoy my occasional carb binges, so I'd like to perform the carb test in order to whittle my food selections down to those least damaging to my metabolism; but I'm concerned that my postprandial blood glucose readings will be skewed upward because I don't regularly eat more than ten or fifteen grams of effective carbs at a time. Should I bring my daily and per-meal carb intake up for a certain period of time before starting the carb test, or is a 50 gram bolus of carbs small enough to give me a true measure of glucose tolerance for the purpose of food selection? Thanks in advance.

6. [27:30] Creativity and Writing Process

Peter says: Robb,

I hope all is well. I'm a big fan of the Podcast and excited about the Q & A return. I have a two-parter both within the same general idea.

FIRSTLY: I'm a writer and I am alway curious about how others approach the creative process. I was curious if you could elaborate on how you approach writing and creativity in regards to balancing an active lifestyle? And how a typical day when writing might look.

For example -- Do you do things like meditate? What time of the day do you write? Where do you write? If you write in the morning how do you reconcile with hanging outside first thing in the morning to get some sun? If you do Jujutsu around noon and roll for 2 hours how do you write around it? You've mentioned eating big meals in the morning, if you're in a heavy writing period, is this a habit you stick with? Oh by the way, you have a wife and kids... how do you balance it all?

Do you still do caffeine? Do you force yourself to take breaks during writing? How do you avoid sitting for 5/6 hours straight?

Sorry for all the questions, I've just been thinking about this a lot lately as I enter into a career pursuing my passion as a writer while trying to balance and prioritize my health. As I am sure you can attest, writing can be all consuming if you let it and setting boundaries is vital -- though difficult, especially if you're in "the zone." So I'd love to hear your thoughts.

[33:18] SECONDLY: I'd love to get your thoughts on the mechanisms at play when writing or doing anything else that requires intense mental focus in regards to willpower. Correct me if I am wrong, but it feels like for me, many aspects of writing and maintaining a healthy lifestyle (choosing healthy food over shitty stuff, hitting the gym, walking, etc.) can drain from the same willpower tank (if not just psychologically, and physically -- physiologically as well). This isn't to say that both can't exist -- rather does one need to be given priority based on ordering of events throughout the day?

For example, I feel my creativity comes to me first thing in the morning. If I were to wake up and hit a Metcon first thing, I feel my creativity gets depleted from the shared willpower tank. I feel this to be true with little things that chip away at my early morning start time as well. For example, taking the time to make a big healthy breakfast, sitting in the sun, even a short walk, all delay me tapping into when I feel I am creatively primed -- but is it worth the sacrifice of my health?

I was curious if you have any thoughts on when or how you prioritize creativity. Or maybe this is all just a bunch of bullshit like Robert Rodriguez says -- and our creativity is totally out of our control.

Anyways, love the show and everything you do. If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter.

Regards, Peter

Source: http://robbwolf.libsyn.com/episode-405-robb-and-nicki-qa-9

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

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idkitshiro · 6 years

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9/3/2018 2:08am

its been a while since ive written here. Ive been trying to not have to open my secret tumblr diary as much as possible. its been 2 months, almost 3, since ive graduated. I still havent found job. im still searching. Ive been looking since the start of the summer, but its very discouraging to not even find a single minimum wage job. i feel so low in this moment. there hasnt been a single day this summer where i havent thought about when i will get any call back. more recently ive been rehearsing the videos and podcasts ive been listening to, speaking about accepting the person I am, being okay with how I looked, what I liked, what I know and understand. in this moment however, i cant help but push back all these heavy thoughts. im surrounded by so much negativity, people who i look at and watch who break my heart. people that i must look beyond. no money. hardly food much less, nutritious food back home. i spend the money i earn from doing yard work at my grandparents on bread, cheap junk food, and monsters to get me through. even when if i do eventually find any kind of job i dont have a car to take myself to and from work. initially i was terrified of how i was going to interact socially among customers and coworkers, if i even possess the knowledge and ability to do any kind of work. thinking about people just make me so sad .. although ive been slowly trying to change this. ive been slowly moving into more positive thinking about it but i got off a voice chat earlier when talking to my friend and a guy she just met. everything they were talking about just made my heart sink. why even on here do i not want to just say what i heard and how i felt about it. can i not even trust my self with just saying how i feel and all my thoughts without just being condemned. the were several comments they made one of them being, b4 i joined their group call my friend was saying what a loser the guy she just met was for asking her to add him b4 inviting me. as soon i did join their call i was trying to be friendly and greeted them, but they continued only to talk to each other. the guy was talking to just her about how funny he was, how he works out regularly, getting her to laugh as we were playing a game over overwatch. my friend was really enjoying herself, playing along about how she had a bigger d than he did as they joke more in this manner, talking about her chest etc . just hurt even more when the guy started taunting that i really liked him sarcastically, and would ask in a innocent tone of why wont i talk? would keep suggesting was his “masculinity intimidating me”. After them dragging on and on he pointed the attention to me , I replied Play the game. i left the group voice chat after a while of them talking with each other to join the in game team chat to talk to the teammates. no one ofc was there. i didnt feel comfortable about what they were talking about, i didnt like how much of a Chad and a douche this guy was, and i didnt like how she was really enjoying herself. What was the point of asking me to play overwatch. She PM’d me earlier if I wanted to play which i got on to wait for as she would finish her games. As soon as I got on she was in a group with the guy already in a match. I waited for their game to finish, messaging her to let me know when shes finished with the game so they could add me to their queue. i waited for 20 minutes only to see her keep getting into new games. annoyed i just logged off, since she was the one who was asking me to play with her. Im sure she realized that i noticed and so she called me over discord to talk b4 getting into that group with the guy. she apologized for not inviting me because the guy was talking about how hurt he was because he was talking about his ex he just broke up with. yeah wat a totally different story when i joined in their call, just a lie. which by the way even while in that 1 on 1 call she kept queueing into a new game before finally inviting me. anyways, after the whole group call and me ultimately leaving. I just joined my own match of competitive play and did solo queue. she pm’ed me if eveyrthing was alright. i gave a short yup saying what a chad. she asked me if i was ok , and i just didnt bother replying. feh they kept playing together and i just got off. was a bit happy that i did what i felt was right. i didnt deserve to be treated like that by her. and i did not welcome any of the behavior of her douchey guy friend that she just met. again i was met with this despair that i see in not just guys but also girls. and god its jsut disheartening. a peiece of me felt more hurt because in the many rare occasions that i meet a girl over the internet i am disillusioned that there is a potential connection greater than of these flaws, beyond the majority of other guys that dominate the internet. it takes me through this vicious cycle that points back to the lack of person i am, how undesired, and lonely i am. how much hurting i hold to myself, and that there are so many people who way beyond more than what i have. even spending all day w/ my desktop how is it after all these years, in high school and college that i have not met not even a single person even online that i could draw close to about my deepest feelings and somebody who finds an equal interest in me. no matter how funny and positive i try to keep things, even physcially improving my body, is not enough. so many things that icant change. my face, the support and love and willingness to be understood and listened to from any of my mother or father. and god damn all the family that i went to see who dont know a signle thing about anything of who i am. jesus christ and the fact the nobody understands any of the hurting inside that im steeling myself of makes heart and face sink extremely low. clinging to only hopes. i fight the idea that there is nothing worth living for. only repeated faces of despair. sorrow. and damn it.. im just trying to find love out of all this madness, trying to find a way to laugh. ive somehow ended up far less with than what i thought i had in high school. i feel myself on the brink, doing that everything i possibly can to better myself and positively affect others.. that fact that no1 just knows god damn it .. please i just want to find at least when i lseep that somwhere in my dreams i will find that im not so alone.. that i am loved. .that i am understood. that i am not going to sleep hungry.. that i do not have to keep witnessing the ugly sides of people.. that i do not have to question if any who i am and have experienced is valid , that i am worthy.. that i am not going to be angry and hurt when i wake up in the middle of the night i wish i could organize and articulat eevrything that im trying to feel clearly but god damn it these filtesr of not even wnating to cuss prevent me from entirely venting this all out AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa . .a..aa i just want to do good with my life .. i just want to show love .. i wish for any kind of miracle

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memories of 1976

Image by brizzle born and bred It saw the birth of punk and the death of Chairman Mao, it was a time when Britain was at its financial peak, even though the country was bailed out by the International Monetary Fund. THE SIZZLER OF ’76 – one of the hottest summers on record

1976 Inflation continues to be a problem around the world. Concorde enters service and cuts transatlantic flying time to 3 1/2 hours. One year after Microsoft is formed Apple is formed by Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak. Nadia Comaneci scores the first ever perfect score in Gymnastics. In South Africa Riots in Soweto on June 16th mark the beginning of the end of apartheid. In music the first of the Punk Bands appear The Damned release New Rose classified as Punk Rock Music.

It was the year in which Harold Wilson resigned and Jimmy Carter became US President, a space probe landed on Mars. These were simpler times – fear of crime was low, people were less suspicious of others, and "traffic flowed freely and, by and large, British Rail was just wonderful".

There were fewer lager louts and it was safe to go out clubbing on a Saturday night. There was less pressure for children and teenagers to live up to their peers -‘keeping up with the Jones’. Children played in the parks and streets instead of becoming couch potatoes or computer geeks.

The economy was in desperate straits. The reservoirs were empty. The government was in danger of falling apart.

Youth unemployment was rising. And British sports people were preparing for an Olympic Games. There was a national water shortage, inflation reached 27 per cent, there were widespread strikes and the West Indies cricket team left us grovelling for mercy. Amid many strikes in public sectors, there was also raging inflation. Britain was forced into the humiliating position of asking international bankers to lend it billions of pounds, revealing the full scale of the economic failure the country was facing.

It was a turbulent time for Britain, we agreed to keep trawlers out of Icelandic waters after a third “Cod War”. In the heat of the summer, riots broke out at the Notting Hill carnival. 100 police officers were taken to hospital after they tried to break up rioters armed only with dustbin lids and milk crates. It was a good year for technology, for 1976 saw the first commercial Concorde flight, the unveiling of the first space shuttle, Enterprise, and the start-up of a new business, the Apple Computer Company, by Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak. And Matsushita introduced the VHS home video cassette recorder to compete with Sony’s Betamax system.

Cost of Living

Strikes in public services were just something people had to deal with. The standard rate of tax stood at 35 pence in the pound. Inflation raged at around 17%. The industrial unrest and economic crisis led within a few years to the winter of discontent and then the Thatcher revolution. In terms of individual wealth, we were certainly poorer. The average wage was around £72 a week. Only half of us had phones – landlines, that is. No-one had a computer. Far fewer of us owned our own homes and it was much more difficult to get a mortgage. There was less crime and lower energy consumption because there were fewer cars and centrally-heated houses.

In terms of quality of life, only half the country had a telephone, no one had a computer and just over half of homes were owner-occupied compared with seven in 10 today. Our quality of life was improved by an affordable cost of living – petrol was 77p a gallon, a pint 32p and a loaf 19p – low crime levels and fewer cars on the road.

There was also a large investment in the public sector and a narrowing in the wage gap between the sexes. For the really wealthy there was a chance to travel on Concorde, which started flying from Heathrow to Bahrain that January. And for the rest of us we could book a seat on the first InterCity 125 trains or save up for one of the new Ford Fiestas or Mark IV Cortinas, costing £1,950. It was also the year of the Ford Fiesta, Rover SD1, Ford IV Cortina and the Hyundai Pony.

There was less traffic on British roads in 1976, but far more people were killed on them – more than 6,000 deaths compared to fewer than 2,500 annually now. Cars now have better brakes, airbags, side-impact bars and drivers are less likely to be drunk and it is now illegal not to wear seatbelts, even in the back. It was actually far more risky to be a child cycling round 1970s Britain than it is today and greatly more dangerous to be a child passenger in a car.

In 1976 we earned less money and we paid more tax (the basic rate then was 35 per cent rising to a pip-squeaking 83 per cent on earnings over £20,000 (about £110,000 today) and things largely cost far more than they do now. Travel abroad was still something of a luxury (currency restrictions were still in place meaning it was hard even if you had the cash) and largely restricted to the middle classes and above, although the era of the cheap package to Spain and elsewhere was beginning. Things that we think of as essentials – televisions, stereos, kitchen white goods and so forth were hugely expensive. In the mid-1970s a colour television cost two months’ salary; today, like all electronic goods prices have dropped in real terms by 80 per cent or more.

Far fewer of us owned our own homes and it was much more difficult to get a mortgage. Interest rates hit a whopping 15 per cent in October. Yet despite all this the new study, the first-ever global snapshot of quality of life over time, reckons 1976 was a golden year for Britain.

Clothes, travel and eating out were all significantly dearer back then, but university education (free, and you got a maintenance grant as well), public transport and some basic foodstuffs were cheaper. Petrol was cheaper too, although not by as much as we usually think. Adjusting for inflation, a litre of four-star in 1976 cost about 89p (£4 a gallon) but adjusting, again, for earning power (how much people actually had to spend on things like petrol) the real cost of motoring has fallen quite dramatically in the last four decades. As to the price of cars themselves, in 1976 a new, mid-range Ford Cortina cost around £18,000 in today’s money compared to about £16,500 for a Ford Focus in 2012).

The major dent in our finances today is not the cost of petrol but the ludicrous price of housing, especially in South-East England. In 1976 even the wealthiest parts of London contained a number of lower-income householders; there were bits of Chelsea and Kensington that were actually quite shabby. Now, the most desirable parts of the Capital (some wards now have average house prices over the £2m mark) have become effectively sterilised by money, with housing so expensive that only offshore trusts, crooks and oligarchs can afford to buy it. But this is a local phenomenon; across much of England, Wales and Scotland housing is still relatively affordable.

In most measurable ways things were no better in 1976, and in many ways worse, than they are now. We were poorer, paid more tax and most things cost more. We died sooner, smoked more and suffered more illness. We were less likely to be burgled, take drugs or have our car broken into but no less likely to be murdered, raped or robbed. And we mustn’t forget that in 1976 large sections of the population really were dramatically worse off than they are now. This was an era of casual racism and sexism, where women, gays, blacks and Asians could be openly discriminated against, where snobbery was still rife and where police corruption was so serious and widespread that 400 Metropolitan Police officers had to be quietly sacked.

But what we are REALLY nostalgic for, of course, is not the weather, the clothes or the alleged freedom but our youth. And that we can never get back.

Sport

And in sport, it was hardly a year of triumph to be cherished as a golden era. On the cricket field England were walloped by Australia and the West Indies. Our much vaunted athletics team at the Montreal Olympics came back with just one bronze medal between them.

Only dashing racing driver James Hunt saved the day somewhat by winning the Formula One championship. Lawrie McMenemy’s second division underdogs Southampton beat Manchester United 1-0 to win the FA Cup. This was one of the biggest upsets in cup history.

Highlights included one of the hottest summers on record, the Montreal summer Olympics, and John Curry winning a gold medal for ice-skating in the winter Games. Southampton won the FA Cup. Other sporting triumphs in 76 came from British figure skater John Curry, who won Olympic gold in Innsbruck, and on the cricket field England we were walloped 3-0 by the West Indies and our much-vaunted athletics team at the Montreal Olympics came back with a single bronze, won in the 10,000 metres by Brendan Foster.

Music

It was also the year that, for many, the music died, with Abba and Elton John being elbowed aside by the rude young men of pop, including the Sex Pistols and the Clash. Fears of a younger generation with a safety pin through its nose stalked society; what punk might do to the country was a serious concern for many – not least the punks themselves. Punk rock group The Ramones released their first album, U2 got together and the Brotherhood of Man won the Eurovision Song Contest with Save Your Kisses for Me.

Top selling singles of the year were ABBA with Dancing Queen, Queen with Bohemian Rhapsody – whose video more or less changed the face of pop music – and Chicago with If You Leave Me Now. Many outdoor festivals and shows were held in the U.S. as it celebrated its bicentennial – Elton John, The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, Lynyrd Skynyrd and ZZ Top all drew huge crowds. Music fans bought Dancing Queen by Abba or Forever and Ever by Demis Roussos.

Meanwhile the Stones were in full flow, with a 33-year-old Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, both now 69, playing in front of a reported 200,000 at Knebworth Fair. The band are still on the road, packing out Hyde Park and Glastonbury 37 years on. In the charts Brotherhood of Man’s Eurovision winner Save All Your Kisses For Me and The Wurzels’ Combine Harvester were firm favourites.

Classic albums Hotel California by the Eagles and Stevie Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life were released in 76 but there were signs of a shift in musical tastes.

A shocked nation saw the Sex Pistols’ foul-mouthed TV interview with Bill Grundy and The Damned released New Rose, widely regarded as the first punk single. Some saw punk as the death of pop but to others it was bringing music back to life while raising two fingers to the establishment.

Sex Pistols swear on live TV 1976

Punk rock band the Sex Pistols achieve public notoriety as they unleash several swearwords live on Bill Grundy’s TV show, following the release of their debut single Anarchy in the U.K. on 26 November.

Punk group The Sex Pistols cause a storm of controversy and outrage in the UK by swearing well before the watershed on the regional Thames Television news programme Today, hosted by Bill Grundy. Grundy, who has goaded them into doing so, is temporarily sacked. Today is replaced by Thames at Six a year later.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0IAYFh0CaI

Film & Television

Filming began on George Lucas’ first Star Wars film. Among the films released that year were Sylvester Stallone’s Rocky, the original Freaky Friday, starring Jodie Foster, and John Wayne’s final film, The Shootist.

On television, we were watching The Muppets, Starsky And Hutch and The Multi-Coloured Swap Shop, The Muppet Show, Starsky and Hutch. At the cinema, Sylvester Stallone captured everyone’s heart as gutsy boxer Rocky and the film clinched the best picture Oscar. But perhaps the most chilling performance of the year came Robert De Niro as Travis Bickle in Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver. On TV wheeler dealer Mike Baldwin, played by Johnny Briggs, started his 30-year stint on Coronation Street.

THE SIZZLER OF ’76 – one of the hottest summers on record

Many people fondly remember the year when the mercury topped 28C (82F) for a record-breaking 22 days… and for once the nostalgia is not misplaced.

It was the driest summer since 1772 so hours of sunny outdoor fun made 1976 a favourite. It’s the weather that stands out in most people’s memories. Day after day of temperatures in the 90s, as people rolled up their flared trousers to sunbathe in the park. That had its downside, of course, with a drought leading to scorched earth and hundreds of thousands of people dependent on standpipes for their water supply. There was even a Minister of Drought, Denis Howell, who within days of his appointment became Minister of Floods, as the heavens opened.

Henry Kelly, who was on the radio even then, recalls the heatwave: "As a radio reporter I covered the old chestnut of a man frying eggs on the pavement near Oxford Circus."

With the sunny weather here at last, We turn back the clock to the now legendary summer of 1976 – a year when the heat was really on Rationed: With water supplies running dry, many families had to rely on standpipes Heatwave: During the long, dry summer of 1976, even the mighty Chew Valley Reservoir virtually dried up AFTER basking in the sun for the last couple of weeks, let’s hope we can look forward, with the help of a little global warming, to some long, hot summer days.

We’re certainly due them after a dismal winter and cold spring. But how many readers, I wonder, recall the record-breaking long, hot summer of 1976, now an unbelievable 30 years ago? If you do, you’ll have memories of what a summer should really be like, with day after day of unbroken sunshine and temperatures in the 80s and 90s. Weathermen said that it was the hottest year overall since 1826, though it was just a little cooler in the West. But Bristol certainly had the hottest June on record. Readers of the Post were asked to ‘cool it’ as ice cream was rationed, kids stripped off and jumped into the pool in front of the Council House and tempers became frayed. The outdoor swimming pools, like Portishead and the old Clifton Lido, came into their own and shops reported shortages of suntan oil and sunglasses.

Wildlife had a field day, with a plague of ladybirds descending on the seafronts at Clevedon and Weston-super-Mare. The local authorities started spreading sand on the roads to stop the tar from melting (which didn’t work) and the water authorities became so stretched that they considered bringing in extra supplies to Avonmouth from Norway. Pupils at Winterbourne school were forced to attend lessons as the temperature topped 37.8 degrees in the classroom. But in more sensible Somerset, some children started school at 8am and finished at 1pm – missing at least some of the heat of the day. Despite constant warnings, youngsters just couldn’t be stopped from diving into the area’s many rivers and watercourses to cool off. More dangerously, many Bristol people started jumping into the icy, deep waters of the docks.

By the end of June it was official – Bristol was England’s hottest spot, with a temperature of 91F (33C). By this time many people had had enough of the heat – but amazingly it just went on and on, right throughout July and August. With temperatures at night remaining very high (63 degrees) people found that they couldn’t sleep. In fact, you could still feel the heat wafting off the pavements at midnight. The weathermen tell us that it did rain, but amounts were very small, and soon drought conditions set in.

Then, after over a month without rain, the brewery draymen went on strike – so we soon had beer rationing as well as water rationing to add to our misery. A hosepipe ban was implemented and the washing of cars was outlawed. There was much goverment advice on water-use, including the suggestion that only five inches of water was to be used in a bath, and that baths, it was daringly suggested, should be shared). A minister for drought, Denis Howell, was appointed. Just to prove he meant business a hastily conceived Drought Bill, implemented on July 14, allowed for fines of up to £400 for water misuse.

On June 28, the record for the hottest June day was broken when 32.8C (91F) was recorded. August was a record month with an amazing 264 hours of sunshine – more than eight hours a day. But not everyone lapped up the sun. There were casualties. In July, a local woman died from hyperpyrexia – caused by not drinking enough water or having enough salt in hot weather. It was something usually restricted to countries with very hot climates. Wildlife suffered, too. Thousands of salmon and trout died in the region’s rivers as the water became starved of oxygen. Many trees, especially those which had just started to recover from Dutch elm disease – started to wilt and die. Dust clouds covered the land as firemen strugled to cope with up to 20 grass-fires a day. In the Cotswolds, so-called dust-devils were reported.

These were small whirlwinds which only occur on fine, hot days. Brooks and springs which had never been known to dry up, even in the hottest weather, did just that and bowling greens and golf courses closed their doors to members as their ‘greens’ turned to ‘browns’. Water was being lost by evaporation from the Mendip reservoirs at an alarming rate – nearly six million litres a day throughout August. The level in the vast Chew Valley reservoir fell so low that visitors could actually walk on the exposed baked earth and make out the old road bridges and skeletal remains of long-since drowned farms.

As temperatures stayed in the 90s, many country areas came to rely on standpipes and buckets of water. Some, with very limited supply, or even none at all, had water delivered by tanker. Finally, on August 28, the worst drought since 1921 came to an end with violent storms and flooding. Strangely, many people stood at their back doors and welcomed the rain back with open arms.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=qRk_Oc_PjAI

1976 The Murders of the Yorkshire Ripper

20 January – 42-year-old married woman Emily Jackson is stabbed to death in Leeds; it is revealed that she was a part-time prostitute. Police believe she may have been killed by the same man who murdered Wilma McCann in the city three months ago.

Sutcliffe’s assaults on Rogulsky, Smelt and Tracey Browne were puzzling random attacks on women but not regarded in the same mould as the murder of Wilma McCann in Leeds or indeed of Joan Harrison in Preston. Wilma’s killing was the first linked Ripper murder and was probably motivated by Tracey’s desire to rob her, a prostitute nearly at home after a night on the town, with extreme violence, rather than a planned commencement of a series of ritual murders. Harrison was also robbed.

‘The well-described stocky bearded Irishman seen with Emily Jackson was never traced. Mrs Jackson was never seen alive again and her van lay parked in the Gaiety car park to which she never returned. This man was always believed to be her killer by the police and his description is quite different to Peter Sutcliffe. This man or a similarly described man was observed at the scene of two subsequent Ripper murders. These fact along with many others shows that Peter Sutcliffe didn’t commit the murder of Emily Jackson.’

9 May – 20-year-old Leeds prostitute Marcella Claxton is badly injured in a hammer attack.

Marcella Claxton, aged 20, and a prostitute, was attacked in Leeds in the early hours of Sunday, May 9 1976. The police did not link the attack to the Yorkshire Ripper series, though they did re-examine the file after the next murder in February 1977.

1976 Timeline

January – Korean cars are officially imported to the United Kingdom for the first time, as Hyundai launches its Pony family saloon on the British market.

2 January – Hurricane-force winds of up to 105 mph kill 22 people across Britain and cause millions of pounds worth of damage to buildings and vehicles.

5 January – Ten Protestant men are killed in the Kingsmill massacre at South Armagh, Northern Ireland, by members of the Provisional Irish Republican Army, using the cover name "South Armagh Republican Action Force".

7 January – Cod War: British and Icelandic ships clash at sea.

18 January – The Scottish Labour Party is formed.

21 January – The first commercial Concorde flight takes off.

29 January – Twelve Provisional Irish Republican Army bombs explode in London’s West End.

2 February – The Queen opens the new National Exhibition Centre in Birmingham, situated near the city’s airport.

4–15 February – Great Britain and Northern Ireland compete at the Winter Olympics in Innsbruck, Austria, and win one gold medal.

11 February – John Curry becomes Britain’s first gold medalist in skating at the Winter Olympics.

19 February – Iceland breaks off diplomatic relations with Britain over the Cod War.

March – Production of the Hillman Imp ends after 13 years. It is due to be replaced next year by a three-door hatchback based on a shortened Avenger floorpan.

1 March – Merlyn Rees ends Special Category Status for those sentenced for crimes relating to the civil violence in Northern Ireland.

4 March – The Maguire Seven are found guilty of the offence of possessing explosives and subsequently jailed for 14 years.

6 March – EMI Records reissues all 22 previously released British Beatles singles, plus a new single of the classic "Yesterday". All 23 singles hit the UK charts at the same time.

7 March – A wax likeness of Elton John is put on display in London’s Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum.

The Northern Ireland Constitutional Convention is formally dissolved in Northern Ireland resulting in direct rule of Northern Ireland from London via the British parliament.

9 March – The Who’s Keith Moon collapses on stage ten minutes into a performance at the Boston Garden.

16 March – Harold Wilson announces his resignation as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, to take effect on 5 April.

19 March – Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon announce that they are to separate after 16 years of marriage.

26 March – Anita Roddick opens the first branch of The Body Shop in Brighton.

3 April – The United Kingdom wins the Eurovision Song Contest for the third time with the song "Save Your Kisses for Me", sung by Brotherhood of Man. It remains one of the biggest-selling Eurovision songs ever.

5 April – James Callaghan becomes Prime Minister of the United Kingdom upon the retirement of Harold Wilson, defeating Roy Jenkins and Michael Foot in the leadership contest. Callaghan, 64, was previously Foreign Secretary and had served as a chancellor and later Home Secretary under Wilson in government from 1964 until 1970.

7 April – Cabinet minister John Stonehouse resigns from the Labour Party leaving the Government without a majority in the House of Commons.

9 April – Young Liberals president Peter Hain is cleared of stealing £490 from a branch of Barclays Bank.

26 April – Comedy actor and Carry On star Sid James dies on stage at the Sunderland Empire Theatre having suffered a fatal heart attack.

1 May – Southampton F.C. win the first major trophy of their 91-year history when a goal from Bobby Stokes gives the Football League Second Division club a surprise 1-0 win over Manchester United in the FA Cup Final at Wembley Stadium.

3 May – Paul McCartney and Wings start their Wings over America Tour in Fort Worth, Texas. This is the first time McCartney has performed in the US since The Beatles’ last concert in 1966 at Candlestick Park.

4 May – Liverpool F.C. clinch their ninth Football League title with a 3-1 away win over relegated Wolverhampton Wanderers, fighting off a close challenge from underdogs Queen’s Park Rangers.

6 May – Local council elections produce disappointing results for the Labour Party, who won just 15 seats and lost 829 that they had held, compared to the Conservatives who won 1,044 new seats and lost a mere 22. This setback came despite the party enjoying a narrow lead in the opinion polls under new leader James Callaghan.

9 May – 20-year-old Leeds prostitute Marcella Claxton is badly injured in a hammer attack.

10 May – Jeremy Thorpe resigns as leader of the Liberal party.

19 May – Liverpool win the UEFA Cup for the second time by completing a 4-3 aggregate victory over the Belgian side Club Brugge K.V.

20 May – Rolling Stones guitarist Keith Richards is involved in a car accident. Cocaine is found in his wrecked car. Richards is given a court date of 12 January 1977.

27 May – Harold Wilson’s Resignation Honours List is published. It controversially awards honours to many wealthy businessmen, and comes to be known satirically as the "Lavender List".

June – British Leyland launches its innovative new Rover SD1, a large five-door hatchback that replaces the ageing P6 series.

1 June – UK and Iceland end the Cod War.

14 June – The trial for murder of Donald Neilson, known as the "Black Panther", begins at Oxford Crown Court.

22 June–16 July – Heat wave reaches its peak with the temperature attaining 26.7°C (80°F) every day of this period. For 15 consecutive days, 23 June–7 July inclusive, it reaches 32.2°C (90°F) somewhere in England; and five days – the first being 26 June – see the temperature exceed 35°C (95°F). This is contributing to the worst drought in the United Kingdom since the 1720s.

28 June – In the heat wave, the temperature reaches 35.6°C (96.1°F) in Southampton, the highest recorded for June in the UK.

29 June – The Seychelles become independent of the UK.

2 July – Benjamin Britten is created Baron Britten of Aldeburgh in the County of Suffolk, less than six months before his death.

3 July – Heat wave peaks with temperatures reaching 35.9°C (96.6°F) in Cheltenham.

7 July – David Steel is elected as new leader of the Liberal Party.

10 July – Three British and one American mercenaries are shot by firing squad in Angola.

14 July – Ford launches a new small three-door hatchback, the Fiesta – its first front-wheel drive transverse engined production model – which is similar in concept to the Vauxhall Chevette and German car maker Volkswagen’s new Polo. It will be built in several factories across Europe, including the Dagenham plant in Essex (where 3,000 jobs will be created), and continental sales begin later this year, although it will not go on sale in Britain until January 1977.

17 July–1 August – Great Britain and Northern Ireland compete at the Olympics in Montreal, Canada, and win 3 gold, 5 silver and 5 bronze medals.

21 July – Christopher Ewart-Biggs, the UK ambassador to Ireland, and a civil servant, Judith Cooke, are killed by a landmine at Sandyford, Co. Dublin.

22 July – Dangerous Wild Animals Act requires licences for the keeping of certain animals in captivity.

27 July – United Kingdom breaks diplomatic relations with Uganda.

29 July – A fire destroys the pier head at Southend Pier. August – Drought at its most severe. Parts of South West England go for 45 days with no rain in July and August.

Government and Trades Union Congress agree a more severe Stage II one-year limit on pay rises.

5 August – The Great Clock of Westminster (or Big Ben) suffers internal damage and stops running for over nine months.

6 August – The last Postmaster General, John Stonehouse, is sentenced to seven years in jail for fraud.

14 August – 10,000 Protestant and Catholic women demonstrate for peace in Northern Ireland.

30 August – 100 police officers and 60 carnival-goers are injured during riots at the Notting Hill Carnival.

September – Chrysler Europe abandons the 69-year-old Hillman marque for its British-built cars and adopts the Chrysler name for the entire range.

1 September – Drought measures introduced in Yorkshire.

3 September – Riot at Hull Prison ends.

4 September – Peace March in Derry attracts 25,000 people in a call to end violence in Northern Ireland.

9 September – The Royal Shakespeare Company opens a memorable production of Shakespeare’s Macbeth at The Other Place, Stratford-upon-Avon, with Ian McKellen and Judi Dench in the lead roles, directed by Trevor Nunn.

12 September – Portsmouth football club, who were FA Cup winners in 1939 and league champions in 1949 and 1950 but are now in the Football League Third Division, are reported to be on the brink of bankruptcy with huge debts.

20 September & 21 September – 100 Club Punk Festival, the first international punk festival is held in London. Siouxsie and the Banshees play their first concert.

23 September – A fire on the destroyer HMS Glasgow while being fitted out at Swan Hunter’ yard at Wallsend on Tyne kills eight men.

29 September – The Ford Cortina Mark IV is launched.

4 October – InterCity 125 trains are introduced on British Rail between London and Bristol.

8 October – The Sex Pistols sign a contract with EMI Records.

15 October – Two members of the Ulster Defence Regiment jailed for 35 years for murder of the members of the Republic of Ireland cabaret performers Miami Showband.

22 October – The Damned release New Rose, the first ever single marketed as "punk rock".

24 October – Racing driver James Hunt becomes Formula One world champion.

25 October – Opening of the Royal National Theatre on the South Bank in London, in premises designed by Sir Denys Lasdun.

29 October – Opening of Selby Coalfield.

16 November – The seven perpetrators of an £8 million van robbery at the Bank of America in Mayfair are sentenced to a total of 100 years in jail.

1 December – Punk rock band the Sex Pistols achieve public notoriety as they unleash several swearwords live on Bill Grundy’s TV show, following the release of their debut single Anarchy in the U.K. on 26 November.

10 December – Betty Williams and Mairead Corrigan win the Nobel Peace Prize.

15 December – Denis Healey announces to Parliament that he has successfully negotiated a £2.3 billion loan for Britain from the International Monetary Fund on condition that £2.5 billion is cut from public expenditure: the NHS, education and social benefit sectors are not affected by these cuts.

Inflation stands at 16.5% – lower than last year’s level, but still one of the highest since records began in 1750. However, at one stage during this year inflation exceeded 24%.

Opening of Rutland Water, the largest reservoir in England by surface area (1,212 hectares (2,995 acres)).

First purpose-built (Thai style) Buddhist temple built in Britain, the Wat Buddhapadipa in Wimbledon, London.

Television

3 April – The 21st Eurovision Song Contest is won by Brotherhood of Man, representing the United Kingdom, with their song "Save Your Kisses for Me".

5 April – Patricia Phoenix returns to the role of Elsie Tanner on Coronation Street after an absence of three years.

7 April – Margot Bryant makes her last appearance as Minnie Caldwell on Coronation Street.

1 July – US Sci-Fi series The Bionic Woman makes its debut at No.1 in the ratings – an almost unheard of event for a Sci-Fi series.

1 December – Punk group The Sex Pistols cause a storm of controversy and outrage in the UK by swearing well before the watershed on the regional Thames Television news programme Today, hosted by Bill Grundy. Grundy, who has goaded them into doing so, is temporarily sacked. Today is replaced by Thames at Six a year later.

Dennis Potter’s Play for Today Brimstone and Treacle is pulled from transmission on BBC1 due to controversy over its content, including the rape of a woman by the devil. It is eventually screened on BBC2 in 1987, after having been made into a film starring Sting in 1982.

BBC1

6 January – Rentaghost (1976–1984) 8 January – When the Boat Comes In (1976–1981) 8 September – The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin (1976–1979) 2 October – Multi-Coloured Swap Shop (1976–1982)

BBC2

17 February – One Man and His Dog (1976–present) 20 February – Open All Hours (BBC2 1976, BBC1 1981–1982, 1985, 2013)

ITV

1 July – The Bionic Woman (1976–1978, 2007) 1 September – Star Maidens (1976) 6 September – George and Mildred (1976–1979) 27 September – The Muppet Show (1976–1981) Chorlton and the Wheelies (1976–1979) 19 October – The New Avengers (1976–1977)

Music

This year saw the emergence of disco as a force to be reckoned with, a trend which would hold for the rest of the decade and peak in the last two years. This was also the year which truly established ABBA as the top selling act of the decade with them achieving their second, third and fourth number ones (as well as releasing the biggest-selling album of the year).

The ABBA formula was also replicated in the biggest-selling song of the year – the Eurovision-winning "Save Your Kisses for Me" by Brotherhood of Man, who began a three-year run in the UK charts from 1976. Other acts to achieve notable firsts were Elton John, who scored his first UK number one single this year (albeit as a duet with Kiki Dee), Showaddywaddy had their first and only number one and long-standing hit-maker Johnny Mathis also scored his biggest hit this year.

The album charts saw TV advertising become a major factor in changing the landscape of big sellers with non-regular singles artists achieving high sales with compilations. Among these were Slim Whitman, Bert Weedon, Glen Campbell and The Beach Boys, who remained at number one for ten consecutive weeks.

Also emerging this year was a new trend, which became known as punk rock. This was little evident on the charts as yet, and was more a lifestyle choice, but would become much more significant the following year, as many new acts who typified the trend came onto the scene.

Overall, 1976 is not considered a vintage year by music critics, with its overwhelming dominance by pop and MOR acts. Certainly, many consider 1976 to be the nadir of British music and hold the year’s charts up to be the very reason why Punk and New Wave music emerged with such force the following year.

Britain’s foremost classical composers of the late 20th century, including Sir William Walton, Benjamin Britten and Sir Michael Tippett, were still active. Sir Charles Groves conducted the Last Night of the Proms, and the soloist for "Rule Britannia" was contralto Anne Collins; the programme included Walton’s Portsmouth Point overture.

Number One singles

"Bohemian Rhapsody" – Queen "Mamma Mia" – ABBA "Forever and Ever" – Slik "December, 1963 (Oh, What a Night)" – The Four Seasons "I Love to Love (But My Baby Loves to Dance)" – Tina Charles "Save Your Kisses for Me" – Brotherhood of Man "Fernando" – ABBA "No Charge" – J.J. Barrie "The Combine Harvester (Brand New Key)" – The Wurzels "You to Me Are Everything" – Real Thing "The Roussos Phenomenon EP" – Demis Roussos "Don’t Go Breaking My Heart" – Elton John and Kiki Dee "Dancing Queen" – ABBA "Mississippi" – Pussycat "If You Leave Me Now" – Chicago "Under the Moon of Love" – Showaddywaddy "When a Child Is Born" – Johnny Mathis

The side of William Powell & Sons, Carrs Lane – clear wall – “J C & J Pool” (Travelodge Carrs Lane site)

Image by ell brown Almost didn’t get this update, but when I noticed that the steel girders had been removed, I knew that i had to get new shots. I even dropped my camera case on the ground (lucky that it is padded and the camera is ok).

Saw a drill in the middle of the site next to the former William Powell & Sons.

Wonder if a new building will go up here?

Now the steel frame has gone you can read the lettering "J C & J Pool".

Powell’s Gun Shop is a Grade II listed building.

Gun shop, workshops and living accomodation [now offices] of 1861, designed by Charles Edge [f.1827-1867].

MATERIALS: Red brick with diapered patterns in black brick and painted stone dressings. PLAN: The street frontage is three storeys with attic and the rear, L-shaped workshop range has five floors.

EXTERIOR: The street front is rendered to the ground floor and first floor levels. The ground floor has three doorways at centre, right and left and between them are set shop windows. All of the openings have four-centred arches with deeply-incised hood moulds and label stops. The lower part of the shop windows are of C20 plate glass with modern fascia boards above, but the upper portions of the windows retain their two-light tracery and the surrounds are untouched. The left doorway has been converted to form a shop window and that to right leads to the staircase of the office chambers on the upper floors above the shops. The five first floor windows alternate between single and double-lights and have moulded surrounds and arched tympana beneath the black and red brick voussoirs. The piers between the windows have been encased in wooden panels. The four second floor windows are paired and have projecting figureheads to their tympana. Those to the third floor are sashes. A heavy cornice supports two gabled dormers with crow-stepped profile and polychromatic voussoirs to the relieving arches. The rear L-shaped workshop wing is of diapered brickwork with large windows above the work benches.

INTERIOR: The former central corridor which led to the rear courtyard has been incorporated and now forms a central arcaded colonnade, entered by the central door, to either side of which the shop interior can be reached. This has been largely re-fitted with replacement panelling to the walls and a suspended ceiling to the rear room at right. The offices are approached by an open-well staircase with stick balusters and shaped tread-ends. These upper floors retain their plan form relatively unaltered with two principal front rooms to each, although fireplaces have been removed. The architects drawings show these marked as drawing room etc. to first floor with bedrooms to the upper floors. The workshop wing at the back has ranges of large windows facing east and south and below these are work benches. There is a small forge to one room at first floor level.

HISTORY: The gun making industry in Birmingham was started in the C17 and expanded steadily through to the start of the C20. Firearms for the East India company and for slave traders were made in large numbers and guns for the army were a staple of the industry and led to the founding of the Government Viewing Room in 1798 and one of the two Proof Houses in the country for authorising guns. Powell’s trace their history to the partnership between William Powell and Joseph Simmons established in 1802 and were amongst the most prominent of the C19 gun makers. William Powell was elected Chairman of the Guardians of the Proof House where he also engaged Charles Edge to design the Proof Hole [proofing shed]. The firm made guns for the Napoleonic wars and for the American Civil War. They patented a number of inventions, including, in 1864, the Powell Snap Action and in 1866 a half-cocking mechanism.From 1861 William Powell gave his address as Carrs Lane, which implies that the acomodation was for his use. Gun-makers" did not usually manufacture the individual parts of their guns. Pieces were made by independent specialist sub-contractors. Some of these worked within the gun quarter and Showell’s Dictionary lists some fifty specialists. Assembly was done by "fabricators" or "setters-up" and the finished product was then sold by the "maker". It seems from the juxtaposition of shop and workshop at Carrs Lane that Powell’s assembled the guns themselves and then sold them through the shop, enabling them to better monitor the quality of the finished product.

SOURCES: Thomas T. Harman and Walter Showell, Showell’s Dictionary of Birmingham (1885); Andy Foster, Birmingham, Pevsner Architectural Guides (2005).

SUMMARY OF IMPORTANCE: This building was designed in 1860 by the noted Birmingham architect, Charles Edge, whose other listed buildings include the extension to Birmingham Town Hall [Grade I]. It houses a gun shop and associated workshops as well as accomodation [now office chambers] on the upper floors. The building has a good street front in a continental Gothic style which is little-altered, and a shop interior and accomodation which retain the essentials of their plan form. The juxtaposition of gun shop and associated workshops, where the parts made elsewhere were assembled, or "set-up" is rare and the degree of intactness in the workshop wing, with work benches and hearth still in situ, is remarkable. The building provides telling evidence of the specialist gun trade which was once such a vital part of Birmingham’s industry in the C19.

Powell’s Gun Shop – Heritage Gateway

Powell’s Gun Shop dates from 1860 – 61, a late work of Charles Edge in Italian Gothic. Four storeys and dormers, rendered below red brick with blue brick patterns above, stone dressings. The ground floor originally two shops with a central rear access, has four-centred arches. Above the window arrangement narrows on each suceeding floor, creating upward movement. Many sculpted heads. The first floor projections are recent. At the rear a narrow five-storey contemporary workshop wing.

From "Pevsner Architectural Guides: Birmingham" by Andy Foster

Another Travelodge hotel will be built here next door to the old Powell’s Gun Shop.

#Cool #Fitting #images #Maker #Mould #Injection Mould

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