#when i add new buildings ill probably like bridge it over in the middle

[lamatisse]

newly rearranged boat! ☁️

facilities on the left, residences on the right 

also added a lounge requested by giovanni 😒

old boat here

[ultraskull1000]

Okay. So. Project guitar time. I picked up this daphne blue Jazzmaster body off of ebay for like, $100 and decided that it was time to build a guitar that filled a niche that I haven't yet.

So. For context my other two main guitars are a squier Jaguar that I use in my band, using AV '62 Jaguar pickups and modded a bit to make it more of a vintage feel, and my Strat which I use for more classic rock tones and other stuff with an HSS setup, using two random single coils again off of ebay and a Seymour Duncan pickup that I added a coil split push pull pot on the guitar for. I dont use the strat outside of my room very often because it has a floyd rose on it, and i can never get it to stay in tune if its not in a climate controlled area that it stays in for a while. yeah. its a pain in the ass.

So. What am I missing if I have these two guitars? well. As much as i love the classic Jazzmaster pickups and have enjoyed every instrument i've laid my hands on with them, I very much do not have a normal humbucker guitar that I just pick up and use as a humbucker guitar. My strat has a humbucker, yes, but like. A strat neck pickup is just. a strat neck pickup. its too sweet not to use when holding that guitar. the bridge pickup on my strat pretty much gets used when im playing punk, otherwise its in single coil mode mixed with the middle pickup.

But im not looking for like, a les paul sound. no. i want funky weird pickups that arent seen everyday. So i went and looked and considered buying random weird pickups before landing on Wide range humbuckers for that kind of hybrid sound of a higher gain humbucking pickup with a little bit of that fender sweetness that i do so greatly appreciate. and yeah i did buy them relatively new but i got a good deal on them and it fucks.

So. I have the body. i have the pickups. now electronics. I got a decoboom pickguard for wide range humbuckers on the way, with a rhythm circuit cutout cause i do want to put something there, but since my jaguar already has a rhythm circuit and makes that lovely warm and lightly muddy sound (positive, i do love putting my voice over that particular tone) I wanna try to do something weird and probably offputting with that section. I have some ideas, thought about making the upper bout switch a bit wider for a three way switch and putting like, an octaver in there with options for a 12 string mode and a bass mode or something. but nothing finalized. ill think of something. otherwise my plans are to pretty much have a normal 3 way wiring with these. I might add coil split switches later or something funky but i also dont just want to rely on those voices for this guitar and think that it will be nice to have a guitar that has a very distinct voice when it comes to my humble collection.

There is the question of the neck. for now im using a neck that i pulled off a squier bullet strat that was found in the scrap pile at a recycling facility (long story) but i do intend to later get a proper dedicated neck for this maybe possibly.

Another thing about this guitar is that I want to not care about its visual condition. let me clarify what that means. I absolutely love and adore guitars that have been beaten to hell and back and abused and the finish is scraped off and stickers are all over them and there are scars and battle wounds and its been bashed apart and fuck i love that shit. but as my partner pointed out to me, I keep my guitars in pretty polished up condition and get upset when i do things to mark them up. which is true. i drilled a hole in my jaguar while installing the mute and ended up going through the guitar. I fixed it the same day, as i went and grabbed some dowels of the right size and glued it up and its functional but i moped about it for a week afterwards. So. I will be trying my damndest to not baby this guitar. I will be trying to make it look like Thurston Moore has beaten it half to death. I will be vandalizing and sticking it and throwing it around and wailing on it and it will hurt for a while but I want my hands and history to be on this guitar and I want it to make a statement of attitude. Will still very much hurt the first time i leave a mark tho.

Anyway, heres a mockup of what i have so far. will be updating as i get some more of its components together.

and here have a more up to date pic of my jaguar as a bonus.

[mikosaura]

7 MUST-HAVE CRYSTALS FOR BEGINNERS.

I wear crystal frequently, almost daily. I wear them to encourage certain traits to develop, I wear them because they match my outfit, and I wear them for their healing powers. I receive many comments and am often questioned about the crystal jewelry I wear.

If you're anything like me, you are incredibly attracted to gemstones. I'm guessing you do because why else would you be here reading about the seven must-have crystals?

Diamonds, Rubies, Emeralds, and Sapphires are prized the world over. These are indeed precious stones; they uplift the heart. Their brightness is what most people think of when they hear the word “crystal.”

Equally prized are the semiprecious stones such as those found on this list: Amethyst, Clear Quartz, Rose Quartz, Citrine, Howlite, Sodalite and Tigers Eye.

While crystals are incredibly fascinating and beautiful—and this adds to their value—they each also hold a sacred meaning.

Many stones and crystals have been used  for thousands of years. In ancient cultures the healing properties of a crystals was as important as their beauty. These properties remain in crystals today.

There are the flamboyant crystals that are eye-catching and incredibly popular. There are also quieter, less outwardly attractive crystals that are nonetheless extremely powerful.

Whether the gemstone is found in it's natural state or faceted and polished, they are equally powerful. Gemstones can be easily overlooked when in their natural, uncut state and often cost a fraction of the price of a faceted stone.

And with so many crystals and gems on the market it's hard to know what to choose, especially if you haven't shopped for crystals before.

If you're overwhelmed by the choices, read on...

THIS LIST

I’ll start by saying, go with your instinct. If you are drawn to a specific stone, there is probably a reason. Do some research about your choice and discover what it is telling you.

Beyond this intuitive decision making, I would say you'll want a selection of crystals that can be used for a variety of purposes. The crystals on this list are the ones that I come back to over and over and the are a good place to start building your foundation on: Amethyst, Clear Quartz, Rose Quartz, Citrine, Howlite, Sodalite and Tigers Eye. Browse through, read the descriptions, and notice if one (or two) is calling to you.

Knowing how to use these crystals is vital if you are to make use of the gifts they offer.

AMETHYST

People seem to love or hate Amethyst (The Stone of Spirituality and Transformation), with very few falling in the middle of the spectrum. Whatever your feelings about Amethyst, it is good for almost every type of magic and is full of goddess energy.

Keep a small piece of amethyst with whatever tools you use for divination, such as tucked into the bag that holds your tarot cards.

Charge Amethyst by the light of the moon, then hold over your heart to take that energy into yourself. (Note: Amethyst fades in the sun! Do not leave in direct sunlight for long periods of time, the moon is better.)

Wear or carry for the sobering effect on overindulgence and physical passions.

Place geodes and clusters in your environment to experience their energy.

Use Single points for healing properties: place the point end toward you to direct energy inward and away to draw out negativity.

Sleep with it under your pillow to help with insomnia and nightmares, to facilitate out-of-body experiences and to bring intuitive dreams.

Use for meditation or scrying

Place over the third eye chakra to stimulate it.

CLEAR QUARTZ

Clear Quartz (The Stone of Power) is a unique crystal, because it is considered universal in its ability to help with a variety of issues. Because of this, it is ideal for beginners.

Its effects are easily observable because it enhances the personal energy of the wearer. Clear Quartz can be “programmed” to hold whatever intention the wearer desires and to magnify that energy.

It is associated with many aspects of witchcraft: the Goddess, the moon, the sun, and the fifth magical element Spirit.

Charge Clear Quartz with moonlight (especially on the full moon)

Place pieces on a your body to provide healing to that/those area.

Create a crystal grid of protection for your room or home by placing Clear Quartz in the corners of a space.

Add to the top of your wand or staff

Hang in front of windows for protective decoration.

Use for moon related rituals.

Use to cleanse and recharge other crystals.

Use this all-purpose stone in practically any other way imaginable.

ROSE QUARTZ

The pink color in this form of Quartz is thought to be caused by the inclusion of Iron and Titanium. Historically, Rose Quartz (The Love Stone) is a symbol of love and beauty. Rose Quartz enhances all forms of love: love of self, a mother’s love, both platonic and romantic love as well as general caring and kindness.

It encourages us to be gentle, peaceful and tender and helps us to opens our hearts. Rose Quartz teaches us forgiveness and tolerance. This truly is a peaceful and calming stone with energies that are gentle and nurturing. A good stone for pregnancy, care givers, lovers and fertility.

Honestly, if I had to choose one crystal from this list it would be Rose Quartz. Who doesn't want or need more calm, joy and love in their life?

Hold Rose Quartz during meditation to allow it's gentle energy to calm you.

Wear it as a pendant over your heart to open and balance your heart chakra.

Give as a gift of renewed friendship, especially at Beltane.

Keep Rose Quartz on your bedside table to promote restful sleep and harmonious partnerships.

CITRINE

Citrine (The Stone of Abundance) is pale yellow in color. It brings happiness, joy and optimism into your life. One of a few minerals on the planet which do not hold or accumulate negative energy, but dispels and transforms it. You don’t have to cleanse Citrine, because it doesn’t hold any negativity!

Citrine energizes and invigorates and it promotes comfort, energy and warmth. Aids in matters of daily living. It is said Citrine will open the mind to new thoughts. Often referred to as the money stone because it is said to attract abundance to you and also teach you how to maintain that abundance.

Wear on fingers or throat in contact with the skin to bring sunshine spirit into the physical realm

Place with your cash box to encourage growing abundance.

DO NOT leave in direct sunlight!

Use to cleanse other crystals.

Meditate with Citrine to cleanse any of the Chakras.

HOWLITE

Howlite (The Stone of Goals) can be used to encourage emotional expression, to facilitate awareness, and to calm communication. It spurs one on towards the completion of goals and assists with removing hesitation. It dispels criticalness and selfish attitudes. It builds towards a decency and encourages those attributes that are building blocks to spiritual growth.

This stone is mostly famous for its ability to be dyed to look like Turquoise. Dyed Hoplite is known in the trade as Turquesite.

Meditate with Howlite to mitigate anger.

Create a grid around your bed, or place it under your pillow, to promote restful sleep.

Carry in your pocket to absorb negativity.

Place on your third eye to help with dream recall, past life recall and spiritual journeying.

SODALITE

Sodalite (The Stone of Insight) gets its name from its high Sodium content. It has been said that the journey from your head to your heart is the longest distance you will ever travel. This is the message of Sodalite.

Use Sodalite to aid in re-establishing inner peace and assist in clearing up mental confusion. Sodalite bridges the gap between your thoughts and your feelings and strengthens the power of mind over body. It is said to offer a cooling effect and may assist with communication difficulties causing disagreements between couples. It is the stone of logic and is very useful in group situations.

Sodalite is a stone for insight, logic, peace, and truth.

Wear during protests or when you need to stand up for yourself and your rights.

Place on your wifi router to block electromagnetic pollution.

Bring to meetings to promote companionship and collaboration.

Meditate with it to give you guidance on the right decision or plan of action.

Place on third eye to deepen and enhance meditation and stimulate your intuition.

Use when doing a tarot reading or other divination activity.

TIGERS EYE

Tigers Eye (The Stone of Brightness) is a combination of Crocidolite fibers and Quartz Crystal. The fibers shine (chatoyancy) with wavy band of light causing the cat’s-eye effect.

This stone is helpful for seeking clarity and enhancing psychic abilities. It is said to encourages one to open us and bloom, it illuminates the blues and bring brightness to ones life. It is also said to bring awareness to ones needs. This is a good stone for “earthy” people and promotes intuitive practices.

Place on Solar Plexus Chakra for spiritual grounding when you feel spaced out or uncommitted.

Wear or carry for protection against ill wishes and/or curses.

Meditate with Tigers Eye to promote higher self-esteem and confidence.

Remember the crystals effects take place on many levels. These effects can be experienced differently by different people. Color, structure, and chemical composition are all factors that determine how they will effect us.

You may feel the effects immediately or the connection may not be noticed at all. No matter how they effect you, they will effect you in some way.

[sirpoley]

On Towns in RPGs, Part 5: Building a Playable City

In the first article in this series, I embarked on an ill-defined quest to figure out what, if anything, a town map is actually for in tabletop play.

In the second, I took a look at the common metaphor comparing towns to dungeons—unfavourably.

In the third, I proposed an alternate metaphor: that cities are more like forests than dungeons.

In the fourth, I looked at how forests are used in D&D to see what we could use when thinking about cities.

Now, we're going to get to the nuts and bolts of designing cities for use in D&D.

Think In Terms of Districts, not Distance

No player is ever going to remember, or care about, the actual distance between their current location and the tavern they're trying to get to. Similarly, they won't remember, or care about, the roads they have to cross to get there.

The absolute most you can hope for is that they'll remember and care about some of (but not all of) the neighbourhoods they have to go through. In Terry Pratchet's Ankh-Morpork, the Shades is an extremely memorable and dangerous area. Like Pratchett's characters, players are going to avoid it wherever possible and yet always find that they have to go through it. Planescape: Torment's Hive and Fallout: New Vegas's Freeside have similar qualities. If you grimly tell the players: "the quickest way to the princess is through—oh, dear—the Shades," they'll have a reaction to it.

Don't overdo it with districts; keep the number small enough for them to be memorable. I'd recommend seven as an absolute maximum, but as few as three is perfectly acceptable. Lantzberg, from City of Eternal Rain, only used three (one each for lower, middle, and upper class—end elevation). A district can be as big as you like; feel free to simply scale them up for larger cities.

Forget Thee Not House Hufflepuff

It's no secret that in JK Rowling's Harry Potter series, only two of the four houses matter at all. If you're not Gryffindor or Slytherin, you're lucky to get any screentime at all. However, if they were simply cut from the series, then Hogwarts would feel terribly small, as if it were built solely for Harry to gallivant around in, and not part of a living, breathing world. Your city can't just have people to tell your players who to kill and people to be killed, it needs someone to clean up the mess after, also. From a narrative standpoint, these people don't matter, and will rarely be mentioned, but they can be used to pad your world out. When dividing up your map into districts, include a few that, as far as you're concerned, will never see an adventure, and give it maybe one or two notable characteristics. These are areas that are primarily residential, or involve industries not relevant to adventure (i.e., anyone other than an alchemist, blacksmith, or arcane university). Feel free to leave these places utterly devoid of points of interest.

In the adventure written for Lantzberg, for instance, there's little to no reason to ever visit the castle at the peak of the hill. It's there for verisimilitude (someone has to be in charge) and for the GM to hook later adventures to (which I'll elaborate on in my next point), but mainly it's just there to make the city seem larger. Similarly, most of the buildings in Castleview are manors of rich and important citizens, each one of which might have any number of use for a band of adventurers, but only a handful are actually fleshed out. After all, it would hardly feel like a living, breathing city if every single building was tied into a single adventure, would it?

Gaming is full of Hufflepuff Houses: the 996 Space Marine chapters that aren't lucky enough to be Ultramarines, Blood Angels, Dark Angels, or Space Wolves; D&D fiends that are neither lawful nor chaotic, Morrowind's Houses Dres and Indoril, and any of Homeworld's Kushan other than Kiith S'jet. This isn't laziness; they're there for a reason: they make the world feel larger.

Leave Room to Grow

Try to design a city large enough, and versatile enough, that once the current quest is wrapped up, you can inject some more content into it without serious retconning. This is part of where your Hufflepuff-tier-neighbourhoods come in—maybe one of them has been under the heel of a violent gang the whole time, but the party never found out because they never went there. Once the players have started to clear out your adventure ideas and points of interest, there's still plenty of room to pump some more in without the city bursting like an over-inflated balloon.

The map I posted earlier probably represents the upper limit of how detailed you should make your city. A GM could run a few more adventures out of Lantzberg, but a long-running campaign would probably benefit from a bit more room to breathe.

A Few Key Details

What are the kinds of things a DM really needs to know about a city? D&D3.5 had little statblocks for cities and settlements that broke down the demographics of different areas, but that's probably more granular than is actually necessary. Remember—every bit of detail that you include has the potential to distract the GM from finding the fact they actually need. It isn't for instance, particularly important to know that 12.5% of a neighbourhood's population are halflings while 54% are elves, but it might be useful to know that a neighbourhood has a notably large elf population and an often-overlooked halfling minority.

Who are the Watchmen that the Watchers Watch?

One infamously common thing that comes up in D&D is the city watch. It's shadow looms large over every action the party, and your villains, will take, so it's worth thinking about them a little bit. Its best to err on the side of making them too weak rather than too strong, as a powerful, well-organized law enforcement group can really put a damper on the opportunities for adventure. The counter-argument is that if the city watch isn't strong enough to threaten the party, then the party effectively has the run of the city; my preferred answer to this problem is to give the local lord a powerful knight or champion who can be used as a beat-stick against major threats to law and order (like the PCs) if need be, but can plausibly be busy enough with other problems to leave some for the party to handle.

When deciding who the local authorities are, almost anything you can come up with is more interesting (and historically plausible) than a centralized, professional police force. Here's a few examples:

A militia organized by local guilds

A local gang that provides protection in exchange for money and doesn't want outsiders muscling in on their turf

A semi-legitimate religious militant order

A mercenary group funded by a coalition of wealthy merchants (who just so happen to overlook their own crimes and corruption)

Don't get too bogged down in their stats; just pick a low-level NPC from the back of the Monster Manual and write down who they work for. Different neighbourhoods can share the same organization, but try to prevent a single organization from policing the entire city.

By breaking up law enforcement by district, you also prevent the entire city dogpiling on the party when they break a law, like you see in video games. If the party robs a house in the Ironworker's District, they can lay low in the Lists, where the Ironworkers' Patrol has no jurisdiction, until the heat dies down.

Points of Interest!

All those numbers you see scattered over D&D cities? Now's the time to add them. Each one should correspond to a description in a document somewhere. These descriptions can be as long or as short as you wish. For example, on the short end, #1 from Lantzberg just has this to say:

However, and I won't get into too much detail for fear of spoilers, some of those numbers are elaborate, multi-page dungeons.

While you should endeavour to keep the number of districts low, there is no ceiling to how many points of interest you should put into the city. Don't burn yourself out. If you can come up with six, put in six. If you can come up with fifty, put in fifty.

A point of interest can be anything from a scenic overlook to a toll bridge to an elaborate sewer system packed with kobolds and giant rats and treasure. They can be as fleshed out or as minimal as you are comfortable with. There's a sweet spot that varies from GM to GM, as if you include too much detail you suffer from information overload as the party approaches the point of interest (sixteen pages of description, for instance, for a single shop is less than helpful), while too little information might lead to you having to do too much on the fly. I like maybe one to three sentences per point of interest, or per room in a point of interest if it is important enough to warrant its own map (I typically only map dungeons).

Random Encounters

I'll write a series on handling random encounters later, but for now, breaking up encounters by district is a convenient way to do it. More dangerous districts, for instance, might have muggers or even monsters that attack (especially at night). If you're going to use random encounters in your campaign, creating a table for each district lets you use your local colour to affect actual game mechanics. Castleview, for instance, is very safe due to constant patrols by the Lady-Mayor's Watch, while the flooded Lists are full of man-eating fungi, ghouls, criminals, and who knows what. This lets you follow the age-old advice to "show, don't tell." You don't have to say "this area is full of crime," you can show the players this by throwing some criminals at them.

This post has already gone on way longer than intended. Next time, we'll use what we've learned to answer the original question and make better town maps.

[pavspatch]

My Love-hate Relationship With the Boys at Bower Fold

FOR my final Friday Throwback I’m taking a look at my relationship with the one club I haven’t covered so far: Stalybridge Celtic. And then, seeing as the season would be over by now, I’m going to take my summer break (I’m assuming no one will be sacked or resign).

I hope you’ve found my lockdown stories, interesting, informative and they’ve even given you the odd laugh. Fingers crossed that football returns (fairly) soon. Stay healthy everyone.

I SUPPOSE it was inevitable I’d have a rocky relationship with Stalybridge Celtic once I became the local sports editor.

While everyone outside Bower Fold considered my predecessor, Martyn Torr, as biased towards the Bridge, a lot of people, and possibly everyone inside Bower Fold, was convinced I’d be biased towards Hyde United.

That was never the intention. As a professional journalist my plan was give all clubs a fair crack of the whip while concentrating on the major stories. I did my level best to do that, but there were at least a couple of occasions when the Celtic faithful were screaming for my blood. Neither, I might add, was my fault although I had to take the stick.

The first occurred in the spring of 1992 when Stalybridge won the NPL championship. In the days leading up to the game in which they clinched the title, I learned that there would be some colour page in the relevant edition.

It was a rare treat indeed in those monochrome days and I spent quite a lot of time imagining a back page with a huge team picture or shot of the captain holding up the trophy. Fans loved photos like that and whenever there was a big game we’d do a picture special. Colour would surely give sales a huge boost.

Sadly, I had reckoned without our bumbling advertising department. They had made some sort of cock-up, so to apologise they wanted to put two enormous ads on the back page of all places. All I would get to cover the first Tameside NPL championship since Mossley in 1980 was a tiny area in the top left-hand corner.

What irked me more was that the paper had such a low opinion of sport, its biggest selling point. It was pointless approaching the editor because he was no lover of sport and his motto was “don’t rock the boat”.

Every Tuesday a hapless advertising executive called Brian Hart would be sent up with the paper’s size for that week — there had to be a certain ads-to-news ratio and we didn’t sell many ads — and invariably it meant fewer news pages than had been originally.

The editor would then explode and pepper the air with four-letter words for a minute or two. Calm would eventually descend, and after some seconds of silence, Brian would quietly ask “all right?” Boom! Off would go the editor again. But for all his anger and effing and jeffing he always gave in. Work would be ripped up and he’d start again.

My only option was to speak to the managing director. I explained that there was a huge story and if I failed to cover it properly on the back page I would be accused of anti-Stalybridge Celtic bias. He allowed me to remove the masthead which at least gave me space to publish a picture with a headline. Then I went big on the inside-back.

It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair. In fact it was downright bad business. But I had to live with it. Of course, there were more than a few people who insisted I’d done it on purpose.

I wish I could say it was the only time something like that happened. But in 1997, when Glossop won the Manchester Premier Cup at Old Trafford, the printers bungled and the East Manchester back page was mistakenly put on the Glossop edition. Instead of reading about their victory at the Theatre of Dreams, North End fans were told the ins and outs of the Gorton League. Apart from me, no one in the building cared.

For the next incident, let’s fast-forward a year to Celtic signing Ian Arnold from Kettering Town for £15,000, an amount that remains a club record transfer fee.

Martyn Torr, who was then secretary at Bower Fold, had told me all about it so I was expecting an easier week. Big story, written for me, all I had to do was put it into place as the lead on the back page. But of course it wasn’t the expected, but the unexpected, that happened.

It was a different editor by this point and he had an even lower opinion of sport. He took absolutely no interest in my work but this particular week announced that the back pages had to be completed by Monday afternoon. There was no reason for this, and it never happened again, but this time the back pages had to be out before I’d had time to ring everyone.

Of course the one person I did ring was Martyn — time and time again. I desperately tried to get that story but with no success. All I could do was flag the signing and put a big article inside.

Well to say the Celtic faithful were unhappy would be an understatement, and of course I’d relegated their record transfer deal to a less prominent page out of sheer vinctiveness.

Peter Barnes, then the Bridge chairman, rang to say he was withdrawing all his club’s advertising from the paper which, I think, was zero in any case. There were angry letters and articles in Bower Bulletin. Even my old friend Keith Trudgeon accused me of unacceptable behaviour.

Then the editor ordered me to call Jack Thornley, a Celtic-supporting solicitor, to apologise for what I’d done. Despite several attempts I could never get him which was probably as well because he had a thorough dislike of me. Years later, when I came across him Walker Wilkinson’s butcher’s shop on Melbourne Street, Stalybridge, he refused to speak to me and turned his back.

In a way I was in the middle, powerless, while the fuss swirled around me and then, suddenly, my bosses changed their minds. After an angry letter from Pete Barnes, the managing director came to me and said: “Will you please tell the Stalybridge chairman that this is my effing paper and I decide what goes in it.” Even the editor, a horrible man, became vaguely supportive.

But none of it had ever needed to happen. What got into the bigwigs that week I have absolutely no idea. Then again, when I first became sports editor I can remember being approached on a Friday and angrily asked why I hadn’t got any pages away. “Because there’s been no sport yet,” I replied. Seemed obvious to me. I got a contemptuous snort in response.

Stalybridge also caused me to do one of my more memorable post-match interviews. I never got to broadcast it, but it ranks up there with Simon Haworth’s description of the atmosphere at Bower Fold as toxic and Eamonn  O’Keefe telling me the real reason he fled the Al-Hilal club in Saudi Arabia. In all three cases I was left with my eyes wide open with amazement thinking “wow”.

I don’t remember the exact date, but it was after a game at the Butchers Arms in the days when Bloods manager Dave Pace loved to inject a bit of gunpowder into the air by making some barmy statement such as Celtic would be relegated by Christmas. He’s quietened down a lot in recent times but he used to relish playing the pantomime villain.

The match proved an ill-tempered affair. Celtic went two-up, then the Bloods came back to draw. In the meantime, the referee gave Dave a red card.

At the final whistle, more than a few people asked me if I was mad as I prepared to approach Dave with my Zoom recorder. I must admit, I prefer to speak to a manager when they’ve calmed down, not right after a game, but you have a job to do.

After a few opening comments, and congratulations on a great fightback, I meekly ventured the question: “Do you think it might be wiser not to wind up the opposition before big games like this?”

I didn’t realise I’d lit the blue touchpaper, and that meant I had no chance to retire. I was right then when Dave exploded. Guy Fawkes would have been proud.

“Big game? Big game? This wasn’t a big game. A big game to me is when we play a Football League club like Chesterfield, Darlington or Leyton Orient. Playing Stalybridge Celtic isn’t a big game.”

On and on he went. Reminiscent of Inspector Blake in “On the Buses” he hated Stalybridge Celtic. He hated Stalybridge. I’m not entirely certain he didn’t want the entire town wiped off the map.

When he’d finished, I stood there blinking for a few moments, then turned unsteadily and started to look for the Bridge boss. But I’d only gone a footstep or two when I felt a hand on my arm. It was Dave. Rant over, he’d calmed down and looked apologetic. “Do you mind if we do that again?” he asked. I was happy to comply. Behind the mask he’s a really decent bloke.

Generally, I’ve got on well with the Stalybridge managers. Jim Harvey never wanted to talk but I think that applied to anyone from the media. All the others were fine.

And when you think of Celtic bosses, with all due respect to the many I’ve known including Pete O’Brien, Phil Wilson, Kev Keelan and indeed the present incumbent, Simon Haworth, my mind always goes to Peter Wragg.

One sunny summer’s day he summoned me to Bower Fold — managers used to do that sort of thing — and I walked up there through Cheetham’s Park. Wraggy wanted me to write something to cool the supporters’ expectations. After an unbelievable comeback the previous season, when they won game after game after looking certain to be relegated from the Conference, he was worried the fans were becoming unrealistic in their expectations. He wanted them to be made to realise the new season would be another fight for survival not promotion.

When I got to Bower Fold I was met by Martyn Torr and given a tour of the new facilities. We then walked out to look at the pitch where Wraggy was either mowing or rolling.

“What do you think?” he shouted to me. “Very impressive,” I called back. “Yeh, great out there,” he replied. “Just crap on here.”

Wraggy at his best.

[gotham-ruaidh]

That new Shifted update gave me all the Da Jamie feels. I would love to see how Jamie acts during wee William's birth since Bree's was so hard. :)

anonymous asked: Hello Gotham! I’m not sure if you’re still taking prompts for Shifted but here is mine just in case!!! I would love to read anything to do with Fergus, I think he’s such a vital part of Jamie and Claire family in s2 and I wonder what’s his “role” in your amazing story. Thank you!

For the next few weeks I’ll be writing one-shots in the Shifted universe, filling in the blanks that we don’t see in the main story, before we resume the main action with Part 7 - The Visitor.

If there is a particular scene you’d like to see, send me an ask and I’ll see what I can do!

In Shifted, the premise is simple - what if Claire had gotten pregnant with Brianna a month or two earlier in the story, and she and Jamie had re-evaluated  their priorities and decided that the cause was lost, and they were able to slip away from the army and quietly return to Lallybroch?

Previous installments…

Interlude - The Surprise

Lallybroch, Spring 1753

Jamie wiped his sweaty brow on his damp shirtsleeve,frowning at the furrows neatly dug along about half of the field.

 “Hold up!” he yelled to Murtagh, who was industriouslyhacking at the earth with his spade. His godfather paused, squinting in therare spring sunshine, chest heaving with exertion.

 “Ian!” Jamie called to his brother-in-law, who couldn’tparticipate in the digging but supervised from the edge of the field. “Ye’resure we can space the potatos so closely together? We didna do that the lasttime – ”

 “Yes, we can.” Ian shifted a bit as the peg of his woodenleg caught in a patch of softer soil. “I was reading Sir Walter’s book againlast night, and it didna say anything about whether three inches instead offour wouldna be good for the plants.”

 “One of the MacNabs was telling me the other day thatthey’d tried the three inches up at their croft,” Murtagh interjected, nudgingJamie with the handle of his spade. “And it didna seem to have an ill effect onthe harvest.”

 Ian hobbled closer to Jamie and Murtagh.

 “Aye, but the soil is a bit boggier over at those crofts,”Jamie reasoned. “It can hold more moisture than ours can. I just want to makesure if we’re going through all the effort, we’ll still get as much as we can.”

 “But if we dig three inches apart, we can add an extrarow for the whole field. That’s worth the effort, no?”

 Jamie pursed his lips, remembering how he and Ian hadstayed up late the night before drawing out a map of the field and calculatingexactly how to dig the furrows. The winter barley crop had been poor – so theyneeded to grow more food. And potatos were the easiest solution.

 He’d finally slipped into bed close to midnight – Claire hadgone upstairs long before, the weight of the bairn in her belly making her muchmore tired these days. She knew her time was coming, but had assured him justthis morning that it would be a few weeks yet.

 And that was why Jamie was being so conservative aboutthe potatos. Claire had to eat. Brianna had to eat. Jenny and her army ofbairns had to eat. And Murtagh, and Fergus, and the tenants.

 So much responsibility – and times were still lean, sevenyears after Culloden. Things had been worse, to be sure – but they were a longway from being better.

 He’d risen early – Claire had slept restlessly, it was sodifficult for her to find a position that would remain comfortable. She dozedoff right after dawn, so he had quietly untangled her from his arms, kissed thereassuring roundness of her belly, whispered “I love you,” and prepared for theday.

 Ian pursed his lips. “How about we try it half wi’ thethree inches and half wi’ the four? That way we can still have the extra row – ”

 “Papa!!”

 Jamie whirled to see seventeen-year-old Fergus crestingthe hill.

 “Papa! Quick! You must come!”

 “Soldiers?” Murtagh raised his spade, ready.

 Fergus stopped in his tracks – right at the edge of thefield – and bent over, panting.

 “No – no. Not that. It’s – Maman. La petite bairn – it iscoming.”

 Jamie dropped his rake and shot off, racing back to thehouse.

 “Truly?” Ian hobbled across an untilled section of thefield. “Is the bairn on its way?”

 Fergus straightened up, still winded. “Yes – yes. Themidwife just arrived. It is very, very quick this time. Tante Jenny thought she’dhave to deliver it on her own. I told her I could help – but no, she sent me tofetch you.”

 Murtagh clapped a solid hand on Fergus’ shoulder – the ladhad grown to be taller than him, but he was still very slight of build. “That’sverra brave of ye, lad. Now let’s get back – the tatties can wait, aye?”

 ---

Fergus had left the front door open – and Jamie almostcrashed into Mrs. Crook in the entryway.

 “Upstairs,” was all she said.

 Jamie bolted through the sitting room, taking the stairstwo at a time.

 Six-year-old Brianna Fraser – banished from the upstairs toa quiet corner of the sitting room – turned to her cousin Maggie.

 “Why do ye think he’s so worrit? Everything will be fine.”

 “Ye ken that Grannie Ellen died having a bairn?” Maggie focusedon changing her rag doll’s dress. “He’s probably worrit because of that.”

 “I didna ken that,” Brianna replied softly. Then – “Do yethink my Mam is going to die? I dinna think Da would let that happen.”

 Maggie shrugged.

 Brianna frowned, lay her doll down, and folded herfingers in her lap. Trying not to think about what was happening upstairs.

 ---

Ten stairs – then the turn. Then another ten – then thelanding. Then six strides to their bedroom –

 Claire screamed.

 And Jamie almost ripped the door off its hinges.

 His heart tore in two at the sight on the bed. Claire –naked, legs bent at the knees, stomach heaving along with her shallow breaths, facecontorted in pain. Jenny and the midwife – the same sour-faced woman who haddelivered Brianna and all the Murray bairns – standing on either side of thebed, alternately soothing and encouraging Claire.

 Jenny looked over her shoulder – and he immediately sawher relax.

 “Jamie’s here, Claire.” Her voice was a bit loud, almostas if she were speaking to a child.

 But Jamie was already at Claire’s side, enfolding her asbest as he could into his arms.

 “Jamie?” Claire’s voice was weak – far away. Lost.

 “Aye, Claire. I’m here.” He kicked off his boots andsettled against the headboard, cradling her back to his front. Just as he hadwhen she was delivering Brianna.

 “When did it start?”

 “Just about an hour ago.” Jenny gently kneaded the archof Claire’s foot. “Claire wasn’t feeling too well after breakfast – ”

 “Those – bloody – fucking – onions did it,” Clairepanted. “Never should – have them with – breakfast…”

 Then she curled against Jamie, body going rigid asanother pain rippled through her middle –

 “Oh, God. I have to push,” she groaned.

 The midwife pulled back Claire’s leg and reached down. “Aye– ye’re open and ready, Claire. Push.”

 She did.

 It was awful – and there was a lot of blood – and Claire’sblunt nails drew stinging pain where she clutched Jamie’s arms. But he didn’tfeel a thing – encouraging her, whispering to her, holding her as she drew fromsomewhere deep inside herself to push and push and push.

 All was forgotten when Claire’s body released the finaltension – and the midwife held up their blood-smeared, screaming, absolutelygorgeous son.

 ---

“Born in the middle of the day – he’ll always have lunchon his mind, poor lad.”

 Claire held the baby’s head tighter in the crook of herelbow. Jamie darted one hand to wrap the blanket tighter around the baby’simpossibly tiny shoulders, gently touching the bitty chin and nose with the padof one finger.

 “Born early, too – means he’ll always be waiting on otherpeople. Puir lad.”

 “I can’t believe how easy that was, compared to the lasttime.” Claire settled back a bit against Jamie, oblivious to Jenny and themidwife sorting the soiled linens and tossing bloody water out the window.

 “It didna look easy from *my* perspective,” he smiled, absolutelyhypnotized by his son’s sleeping face.

 “And I was so worried, too. But Jamie, when my waterbroke and you weren’t there – ”

 “Hush. It doesna matter. Though Fergus told me hevolunteered to stay behind and help ye?”

 “He told me he’d helped with a birth before – at thebrothel. I don’t even want to begin to imagine what that must have been like.”

 “He’s a braw lad.” Jamie bent to kiss Claire’s shoulder. “We’relucky that our wee boy will have such a good brother to look up to.”

 The baby stirred, but then settled.

 “Is he our William, then?” Claire asked softly. They haddecided on the name as a tribute to Jamie’s beloved elder brother – but nowthat the baby was actually here…

 “Aye. No’ Willie – that was my brother. No’ Will – that’stoo English. William. A good, strong name.”

 “Yes. Yes it is.”

 Claire turned over her shoulder to face Jamie. “I do loveyou, Jamie. Thank you.”

 He smiled – heart full to bursting with love and joy andpride.

 “For what? I didna do any of the work.”

 “For giving him to me. For being here with me. For – for thislife.”

 He bridged the gap between them in a long, long kiss.

 “I love you.”

 He butted his nose with hers.

 “Can you get Brianna?”

 He smiled even wider, kissed her forehead, and sprang offthe bed and down the hall.

 Not even a minute later, Brianna shyly poked her redcurls around the doorframe.

 “Come here, love,” Claire gently encouraged. “Come meetyour brother.”

 Then Jamie was there, guiding her around Jenny and themidwife and toward the bed.

 Brianna gingerly stepped to Claire’s side and peered downat the swaddled bundle. The baby dreamed, quiet.

 She furrowed her red brows and didn’t say anything for along time.

 Jamie opened his mouth to speak, but at a firm look fromClaire thought twice about it.

 So they waited. And waited –

 “Hallo, wee William,” Brianna finally said, voiceimpossibly soft. “I’m your big sister. I’ll take care of ye.”

 Then she bent to kiss his brow.

 Jamie gripped Claire’s shoulder a little tighter.

 So thankful for this life.

[shadowofthelamp]

Behold, some context for this, specifically Bella’s part. I’ll add more when I actually write more about Kit’s bit.

Wordcount: 2075

The second she saw the airship soaring through the red-tinted sky, shooting anything that looked at it funny, Bella knew she had to get inside of it. Let Kit flirt with their host (or, if she was honest, fail to flirt with, man, she didn’t even like flirting and even she knew that he turned into a pile of goopy mush when he was around a guy he thought was cute) and let Vee attempt to kidnap yet another animal to try and smuggle home, she wanted to find out who the heck made a steam-powered airship in the twentieth century.

Or maybe Hell was actually stuck in the year 1900, who knew? Time probably passed funny in the afterlife, but the fact that nobody had shot them out of the sky yet said that there was something else afoot- the pilot had to have some way of warding off attacks considering rivals probably had, like, grenade launchers, and she wanted to find out how. Style merged with substance, ruling the air with confidence- and she wanted in.

“Hey! Hey you!” She flagged down somebody with four arms and purple fur who looked short enough to be less likely to punt her into orbit- Mom had warned that most people down here were mean as, well, Hell- and pointed up at the ship. “What’s the deal with those?”

“You a newly dead?” The demon raised one of their four eyes, and Bella nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, newly dead. Anyway. Story?”

“They’re made by Sir Pentious, one of the Overlords. He’s some kinda inventor, I’unno. Never blew up anything that mattered to me, so I never cared that much.”

“Sir Pentious…” She rolled the name around in her mouth, plucking the ‘T’ in the middle thoughtfully along with the rubber bands wrapped around her braces. “Got it. Thanks!”

“Er- you’re welcome.” They darted off, but that was fine. Now it was just a matter of actually getting onboard.

____________

She couldn’t find a rocket pack anywhere- lousy Hell lagging behind Earth technologically- but ended up stumbling across the next best thing in a warehouse that had an extra ship that had clearly been in some sort of accident. This one was only partially-reassembled, and there was a lot of burn damage sustained to the aluminum and copper outside, but that just meant that she could see the skeleton without having to slice through a lot of layers, so it was almost better- and a lot easier to crawl in one of the big holes in the front window via a pile of parts in front of it.

The interior was decorated like a mansion, with vivid yellows, reds, and blacks- she could respect the commitment to the aesthetic, especially with torn-open snakesheds and red eyeballs plastered everywhere. It looked like something out of Mom’s old comic book collection, toxic and yet intoxicating, every detail chosen for maximum dramatic potential. It must look even better with all the lights on and more than her phone’s flashlight illuminating bits at a time.

It was the best playground that she could imagine- nothing but her and a massive ship the size of an apartment building. Oddly enough, there wasn’t much dust- maybe it had crashed recently and was being held here for repairs? It was certainly of a similar design to the one that she’d seen from the ground, so she couldn’t imagine that it wasn’t just an iteration or two away.

Her fingers ran over the sleek machinery like it was sacred- some of it looked like it belonged in a museum, but the rest was cutting edge, and the seamless way they blended was like something out of a dream. A genius indeed- if she’d been born a hundred years ago and was suddenly thrust into the modern day, she could only hope that her tech would look this good. There was room for improvement of course, there always was, but it was loads better than most of what she saw digging through the junkyard, and a lot closer to the stuff she made with Grandpa Zim using his irken tech. Impressive for someone who’d clearly been dead for some time, considering he’d made enough of a name for himself that some rando off the street knew it.

“Genius inventor, huh…?” Bella pulled out her screwdriver, starting to work on freeing the control panel. It had a touchscreen and levers, what was that about? She had to know what it looked like underneath- did Hell even use cables and wires or was she going to need to drag Kit in to do his magic business here?

It took some doing- whatever had taken this particular ship down had welded the panel into place and it took a crowbar to pry off, ha, take that Venus for saying she ‘didn’t need to bring it’- but eventually she got into the guts of the thing. Sure enough, it was wiring, spiraled all into itself in a knot- it must have gotten all messed up at some point, maybe that was what caused the crash on top of whatever burnt the outside?

She was about to start taking it apart when she heard a pitter-patter behind her.

“I’ve got a gun and I know how to use it, ya know,” she said, rummaging around in her pocket before pulling it out. “Mom insisted I bring the one that can vaporize people since apparently half of you can’t even die the normal way anyway? Bunch of freaks.” Her finger twitched towards the trigger as the pitter-patter became a shadow as the thing scrambled up towards the same hole she’d come in. “I’m warning you, I’m a great shot. Won’t take two to blow your brains out.”

“Whoever you are, bossman says you gotta go!”

It was an egg. Not like some kind of insult, it was literally an egg, and probably a third of her size. It was also wearing a little hand-tailored suit and top hat. She stared down at it, and it stared up at her.

“Who’s bossman?” Bella asked after a few very long seconds of silence.

“You know… bossman!” It blinked. “He doesn’t like people pokin’ around his cool, cool stuff and you tripped the motion sensor. Hey, is that a ray gun?”

Bella’s finger eased off the trigger. “Yeah, it is. It can probably scramble you.”

“Oooh! Fun! Not as good as boss’s, I’m sure, but-”

“Hey, what say you take me to this boss?” Bella crouched down, knowing this was incredibly stupid but also already entirely committed to it. “Then he can decide what to do with me in person.”

“Hmm… alright, but no funny business!” The egg looked her up and down before turning heel, starting to clamor down the pile of parts. She had to hold back a snort when she saw that it had ‘#69’ written on its back.

Some things never changed no matter where you went.

____________

The egg blabbered on all the way back to the ship, mostly about jazz music oddly enough, but soon enough they were nearing a different ship that had settled behind a building. It was either the one she’d seen before or a duplicate, and she felt a shiver run up her spine as she got close- it looked a lot cooler in one piece and lit up bright yellow. Her phone buzzed, and she discreetly pulled it out as the egg launched into a diatribe on the importance of the saxophone. It was a text from her sister.

dolittle 🐭: bells where ARE you

dolittle 🐭: kits distracting clove so I could grab one of those bugdog things but moms gonna be asking how were doing soon, what should I say

Bella thought for a moment before sending back a reply. ‘im checking out that airship we saw earlier. have weapons. ill be fine. meet you back at the cafe later’

dolittle 🐭: be careful ok? know you can handle it but still

Bella smiled a little at that, sending a thumbs up before tucking her phone back into her pocket as they ascended the bridge.

“And then, then he saysss to me, he sayssss- Ah, there you are! Good, good.” She heard him before she saw him, voice booming as he welcomed his hench-egg back. “And what was poking around the warehouse?”

“This, boss!” The egg tugged at her jeans by the knee around the corner before pushing her forward with surprising force. “They said they wanted to see you!”

“Well well well!”

Bella’s antennae twitched as her eyes widened. The man in front of her was a jet black snake, with fangs, a top hat, a bowtie, and eyes on his face as well as nestled on the open space on his chest and hood. Best she could pin from Venus’s nature lectures he was a cobra of some sort, and there was a smug fang-y grin on his face as he slithered up to her, taking advantage of the height that his tail gave him- he’d probably be seven feet easy to Bella’s mere five foot one.

It took her only a moment to shake off her awe. “So you’re the famous Sir Pentious!”

His grin widened. “Ah! You’ve heard of me, little tresssspassser?”

“Obviously, considering I knew your name, right?”

“Er- yes!” He faltered for just a moment, and she went in for the kill.

“Your work’s fantastic, but you really need a way to keep the gutty stuff in order in case of a hit- that’s probably part of why that other ship went down, y’know? But your sense of design and how you mold your century-old designs with the new stuff- it’s fantastic, I just want to cut it all open and see how it works.”

“What did you do?” His hood flared, and she twirled the gun in her hands.

“I only touched the control panel, and your little egg boy got at me before I messed with anything, but I’d give anything for a couple of days working on the interior of this place- I bet I could make it run faster and with less fuel.”

The eye on his hat rolled itself as he narrowed the eyes on his face. “Who are you to come in and think you know better than I about my own shipssss? I should end you right here for your insolence and your trespassing!”

Bella folded her arms, glancing around. “Hmm… far left column, the one with a yellow eye instead of a red one.”

“What about it?” He folded his arms as well, waggling his head. “Are you-”

“It’s welded weird. Something went wrong with the metal when it was being forged, so you put it in the back so you wouldn’t have to look at it. You didn’t want to waste a perfectly good column because somebody screwed up one little part. And that’s just what I see looking around in, like, five seconds- gah!” The end of his tail had wrapped around behind her while she’d been talking, and struck before she finished her sentence, lifting her up to his eye-level with her arms pinned to her sides.

“Little wrench! How dare you?”

“I’m…” Her legs kicked a little, ribs feeling uncomfortably bendy at the moment as his scales pressed against her chest and back. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

His tongue darted out as he hissed, just barely brushing her nose before sliding back into his mouth.

“What do you really want, missy? I don’t like competition, you know.”

“You to let me breathe, for one,” she wheezed, fingers turning to try tickling what she could reach, and his cheek twitched funny before she dropped bodily to the floor, only managing to roll in time thanks to muscle memory from combat training. Thanks, Grandpas. “I really do just wanna see how all your stuff works. The ways I could improve my own inventions if I just could figure out how to blend different functionalities the way that you do…”

“I am quite impresssssive, aren’t I?” He puffed up his chest a bit. “And you have no intention to-”

Bella drew an X over her chest. “Cross my heart. You’re the bossman.”

He looked her up and down. “Hmm. Get back to me when you have a proper uniform and not those ragssss, and I suppose I could show you around a bit, if- if!- you show me something of yourssss.  ”

Bella’s grin slipped into a smirk as she gave a bow. “Bella Donna at your service, then, Sir Penny.”