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ninma · 3 years

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A look at Dream's punishment through irl rules and taking into account UN's rules regarding prisons. Because it is just interesting and it proves how there is NO justification for it. But mostly because it's interesting to look at and you may learn a thing or two.

I have seen too many times people trying to justify Dream's punishment. I did research and read through multiple articles and documents (over 73 pages of two different documents) about the more legal sides of his punishment. While Quackity's physical torture is obvious, I am here to address that even before that it was still very illegal. I know it is fictional! This is just a look into the real life facts and rules regarding prisons because it is interesting to look at Dream's punishment and Pandora's Vault under the light of these. So keep that in mind while reading this!

Welcome to my ted talk with actual facts and be prepared for quite the ride!

While yes, he has done bad things...however he has not done something so bad that he deserves a punishment so cruel that it's considered too inhumane for even mass murderers. Like actually! Stay tooned and you'll see what I mean.

His sentence is indefinite solidary confinement. Which is defined by the united nations as:

"the confinement of prisoners for 22 hours or more a day without meaningful human contact."

This means his punishment fits the definition for all his time (including visits) except when Tommy was locked inn and now with Quackity (although I'd consider the last one a turn for the worse). Now that we have that cleared up- lets get into the rule breaking. But first, let me introduce you to The Mandela Rules!

"The Mandela Rules reinforce human rights principles, including

the recognition of the absolute prohibition of torture and other cruel, inhuman

or degrading treatment or punishment and effective guidance

to national prison administrations for persons deprived of their liberty"

Now that we have established that, lets get into this concerning fact train!

Rule 43

1. In no circumstances may restrictions or disciplinary sanctions amount to torture or other cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.

The following practices, in particular, shall be prohibited:

(a) Indefinite solitary confinement;

(b) Prolonged solitary confinement;

(d) Corporal punishment or the reduction of a prisoner’s diet or drinking water;

(e) Collective punishment.

Yeah...pretty clear breaking of 4/5 there. They can't even break e! Not to mention the pretty explicit breaking of d that was probably a surprise. You can count it as them breaking 4/4 if you count the fact that they can’t even break e. Rest assured my friend, this is just the beginning.

Rule 44

For the purpose of these rules, solitary confinement shall refer to the confinement of prisoners for 22

hours or more a day without meaningful human contact. Prolonged solitary confinement shall refer to

solitary confinement for a time period in excess of 15 consecutive days.

Already broken this one too huh. Even visiting days counts because I don't think anyone has been there for hours and I also don't think Sam's interactions would be long enough or count as meaningful human contact. The time with Tommy and Quackity is the only time it dosen't count as solidary. So this is getting...very much concerinng. But this is still only the start.

Rule 45

1. Solitary confinement shall be used only in exceptional cases as a last

resort*, for as* short a time as possible and subject to independent

review, and only pursuant to the authorization by a competent authority. It

shall not be imposed by virtue of a prisoner’s sentence.

2. The imposition of solitary confinement should be prohibited in the case

of prisoners with mental or physical disabilities when their conditions

would be exacerbated by such measures

Woops...so not only is it illegal as a punishment...but also the "he is a psychopath" argument (which is already a bad stereotype, but I won't get into psychology here. It's a common misconception and c!Tommy not knowing is almost to be expected. However please do not say that someone, character or real person, have a mental disorder or illness without proper knowledge about psychology and in the case of characters we shouldn’t put labels unless the writer has said that they have taken mental disorders or illnesses into account when making the character) just got yeeted out the window. Actually that argument just took a loop and now is an argument for the other side. It makes sense because as it says: it exacerbates their preexisting mental illnesses. Which is why it's prohibited.

"In no case may a detainee’s contact with the outside world be

dependent on his or her cooperativeness, be used as a disciplinary

sanction or form part of the sentence."

- Special Rapporteur on Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment, Civil and Political Rights, Including the Questions of Torture and Detention, ¶ 43, Comm’n on Human Rights,

“…The medical officer should visit prisoners held in solitary confinement

every day, on the understanding that such visits should be in the interests

of the prisoners ’ health. Furthermore, prisoners held in solitary

confinement for more than 12 hours should have access to fresh air for at

least 1 hour each day” - Subcomm. on Prevention of Torture [SPT]

Wow Sam...it is almost impressive in a dark way just how explicitly these are broken. The Warden's very punishments for disobedience just straight up counts as torture. And for the obvious record I highly doubt Quackity's daily visits to the green bloob counts as anything but 'the interests of the prisoners' health'. You can disagree here...but I am being very sarcastic.

Rule 22

1. Every prisoner shall be provided by the prison administration at the

usual hours with food of nutritional value adequate for health and

strength, of wholesome quality and well prepared and served.

Raw potatoes every day for the rest of your life..eehhh no thanks. If Dream ever gets out he will probably join me in the 'eating potatoes trauma' box. As funny as that sounds, it isn't a joke. I was force fed potatoes as a child and I hated it to the point where it gave me a mental block that stops me from eating them as my body just does not want to swallow it. It's a problem. But I can joke about it. Maybe Tommy will join us too, although it wasn't really the eating potatoes that caused that trauma...rip. Rest in anything but potatoes.

Rule 42

General living conditions addressed in these rules, including those related

to light, ventilation, temperature, sanitation, nutrition, drinking water,

access to open air and physical exercise, personal hygiene, health care

and adequate personal space, shall apply to all prisoners without

exception.

I think it's pointless to say more on that topic as it's pretty much already summed up. Let us now move over to what are probably some of the qoutes so specific that it's scary.

“Furthermore, [the Committee] is concerned about the use of solitary

confinement for indefinite periods of time.... Full isolation of 22 to 23

hours a day in supermaximum security prisons is unacceptable

(art. 16).” - Committee. against Torture [CAT]

Oh wow.. talk about on the nose. I should've just started with this one as it pretty much says pretty clearly how it is unacceptable. Like yikes...can you get more specific? It is just downright ridiculous at this point. (-_-;)

“Solitary confinement, when used for the purpose of punishment,

cannot be justified for any reason, precisely because it imposes severe

mental pain and suffering beyond any reasonable retribution for

criminal behaviour and thus constitutes an act defined in article 1 or article

16 of the Convention against Torture, and a breach of article 7 of the

International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights."

Ahaha...ha....yeah for those who justify it...the convention against torture is very much against it being justified...Imagine if the characters could read these rules, that'd be interesting. Although I am pretty sure they don't follow realism for the imprisonment. As I have already said; this is just an interesting look at the irl rules and how Dream's punishment and Pandora's Vault stand under light of them.

“No prisoner, including those serving life sentence [sic] and prisoners on

death row, shall be held in solitary confinement merely because of the

gravity of the crime.”

- Special Rapporteur on Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment

Like...there are no loopholes here. It is so extremely clear that it truly is darkly impressive how the characters don't seem to have a second thought about this. How do you accidentally sentence someone to a lifetime of torture without realizing? If they do know...It'd be very dark.

Btw Tommy's exile and his time in prison doesn't count as solidary confinement. Just to clear that up.

It amazes me how badly they break these rules...I know they probably didn't take the realism into consideration. However it is still kind of darkly impressive. Especially considering how scary specific they break them too. Even though this is just a interesting (I was about to write fun, however I wouldn't count realizing how inhuman the prison is is 'fun'. But it is interesting) look at Dream's punishment and Pandora's Vault under the light of real life rules for prisons. (lol my paranoid self have said this so much)

These facts also proves how saying it's justified...is kind of morally bad. Not attacking anyone! I just want to also say how while it is pure fiction and the characters in the story can have whatever opinion they want as they are characters. However when it comes to fans approving and justifying it without taking time to consider how it really isn't something that can be justified (real or no). You can have whatever opinion you want, however just maybe take some of what you have learned today and reflect over it? To think twice after having received new information dosen't hurt. I am not here to tell you what to think, so rest easy. Only to share some facts^^ (*so obviously scared of offending anyone*)

I recommend taking some time to look it up yourself if you want to look further into it. The psychological aspects of it is also interesting to look at!

I hope you have learned something here today and found this post and my research interesting! I spent hours on this so I hope you have enjoyed this! I originally posted this on reddit and I was very surprised at how many stopped by to read it and therefore I choose to post it here as well because you learn something and hopefully also gained a new perspective.

Ninma over and out!

#dream smp #pandora's vault

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rainybirdsweets · 3 years

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Xylitol Research and Evidence

Xylitol is a non-sugar sweetener extracted from the birch tree. It is a five-carbon polyol that has effectively demonstrated itself to be cariogenic, by its action of neutralizing plaque acidity on teeth and repairing tooth enamel. Hence, it is also called the “magic bullet.”

The major production of xylitol goes to the pharmaceutical and oral hygiene industries and to confectionary manufacturers. It has 30% less calories compared to table sugar (calorific value of xylitol is 2.4 kcal/g, while that of sugar is 4 kcal/g) and is used in different food products for children like chewing gum, candies, gelatin, and in lozenges, toothpaste, and mouth rinses.

Xylitol and Dental Caries

Clinical trials on xylitol show that it plays a major role in prevention of dental caries in babies and teenaged children and in the fetus through the mother. Use of xylitol chewing gum is directly related to reduction of dental caries. Moreover, xylitol also reduces the s. mutans transmission from mother to infant.

Another research on children has found that xylitol candy, pops, ice, gums, puddings, and cookie help in arresting dental caries. Follow-up studies five years later showed that xylitol gum resulted in reduction of caries by 59% against no gum use.

Trials conducted in Finland, a major producer of xylitol, proved that children of xylitol-treated mothers’ had lower levels of s. mutans than those treated with fluoride varnish or chlorhexidine.

Other Impacts of Xylitol

Accumulation of excessive xylitol in the intestine leads to retention of water, which results in diarrhea. Consumption of excessive volumes of xylitol can lead to side effects such as gas and bloating. Xylitol which remains unabsorbed is eliminated after being broken into carbon dioxide. A report published by the European Union’s Scientific Committee on Food in 1985 stated that consuming 50 g of xylitol per day can lead to diarrhea. The Committee also affirmed that tabletop sweeteners that contain xylitol must be highlighted with a warning saying: “Too much of consumption may lead to laxative effects.”

The impact of xylitol is much less on the blood sugar levels compared with natural sugar, because of the gradual absorption rate of xylitol. This fact was approved in a xylitol review by the European Food Safety Authority (EFSA). This indicates that xylitol could help people with disrupted tolerance of glucose, a leading risk factor for cardiovascular disease and diabetes.

Health benefits and risks of chocolate

Chocolate is made from tropical Theobroma cacao tree seeds. Its earliest use dates back to the Olmec civilization in Mesoamerica.

After the European discovery of the Americas, chocolate became very popular in the wider world, and its demand exploded.

Chocolate has since become a popular food product that millions enjoy every day, thanks to its unique, rich, and sweet taste.

Fast facts on chocolate

Chocolate consumption has long been associated with conditions such as diabetes, coronary heart disease, and hypertension.

Chocolate is believed to contain high levels of antioxidants.

Some studies have suggested chocolate could lower cholesterol levels and prevent memory decline.

Chocolate contains a large number of calories.

People who are seeking to lose or maintain weight should eat chocolate only in moderation.

History of Candy

Candy is made by dissolving sugar in water or milk to form syrup. The final texture of candy depends on the different levels of temperatures and sugar concentrations. Hot temperatures make hard candy, medium heat make soft candy and cool temperatures make chewy candy. The English word ''candy'' is in use since the late 13th century and it derives from Arabic qandi, meaning ''made of sugar''.

Honey has been a favorite sweet treat throughout recorded history and is even mentioned in the Bible. The ancient Egyptians, Arabs and Chinese candied fruits and nuts in honey which was an early form of candy. One of the oldest hard candies is barley sugar which was made with barley grains. The Mayans and the Aztecs both prized the cocoa bean, and they were the first to drink chocolate. In 1519, Spanish explorers in Mexico discovered the cacao tree, and brought it to Europe. People in England and in America ate boiled sugar candy in the 17th century.

Sour candy trends

Sour candy has captured the attention and taste buds of consumers who look for confectionery experiences outside of the standard of sweet, says Steve Schuster, president of Wisconsin-based Schuster Products, which makes a line of sour products called Face Twisters.

“It is extreme, and people like to push their sensation of taste,” he said. “They are now accustomed to this taste sensation and seek it because it moves beyond the norm.”

Jenny Doan, director of marketing for Warheads maker Impact Confections, agreed. She pointed to consumers’ palates becoming increasingly daring, especially as consumers experience more global cuisine.

“Globalization has exposed consumers to more sour foods across many categories — examples include Greek yogurt, fermented Korean kimchi, Chinese sour plums, etc.” she said. “Also food preparation techniques such as fermentation and pickling are gaining in popularity and spurring development for more sour foods and beverages.”

And the products in development come from several confectionery categories, including chewing gum, hard candy and chewy candy. Chewy candy also has experienced steady growth over the last few years. IRI, a Chicago-based research firm, reported the $3.73 billion non-chocolate chewy category grew by 3 percent in the year ending Feb. 24, 2019.

Of the Top 20 non-chocolate chewy candy brands IRI tracks, a quarter of them are positioned as sour candy, and at least another quarter have sour line extensions. Mondelez International’s Sour Patch Kids pulled in just over $197 million in the reporting period, while Trolli Sour Brite Crawlers generated $133.6 million.

The Untold Truth Of Gummy Bears

There are the people who love to munch on chocolate bars, from Butterfingers to Snickers, indulging in the perfect combination of sweet and salty. And then there are the candy lovers who are obsessed with anything chewy, gooey, and gummy. Gummy candies only seem to be rising in popularity, and really, there's a gummy candy in pretty much every shape out there at this point.

But despite the introduction of gummy candies like frogs, butterflies, and even mini soda bottles, gummy bears will forever be one of the most iconic gummy candies we turn to.

But what's the story behind these little gummy bears? How did they get their start, and what's in them that makes them so perfectly chewy? They're a ridiculously satisfying sweet when you're trying to curb a craving, but as it turns out, there's a lot more to their story than meets the eye. We decided to grab a handful and dig a little deeper. This is the untold truth of gummy bears.

The History of Lollipop Candy

The first incarnation of the lollipop candy was probably created by cave people thousands of years ago who collected honey from beehives with a stick. Not wanting to waste the sweet nectar, they most likely licked the stick, thus inventing the world’s first lollipop. Good for them (good for us). Archaeologists believe that ancient Chinese, Arabs, and Egyptians all produced fruit and nut confections that they "candied" in honey, which serves as a preservative, and inserted sticks into to make easier to eat.If the 17th Century English version doesn’t count as the first modern lollipop, you could look to the Civil War era for another early forerunner, when hard candy was put on the tips of pencils for children. The early 20th Century was the era of automation, which is when the birth of the lollipop as we now know it begins in earnest, but there are still discrepancies as to who is the true creator.

What Is Chewing Gum?

Chewing gum is a soft, rubbery substance that’s designed to be chewed but not swallowed.

Recipes can vary between brands, but all chewing gums have the following basic ingredients:

Gum: The non-digestible, rubbery base used to give gum its chewy quality.

Resin: Usually added to strengthen gum and hold it together.

Fillers: Fillers, such as calcium carbonate or talc, are used to give gum texture.

Preservatives: These are added to extend shelf life. The most popular choice is an organic compound called butylated hydroxytoluene (BHT).

Softeners: These are used to retain moisture and prevent the gum from hardening. They can include waxes like paraffin or vegetable oils.

Sweeteners: Popular ones include cane sugar, beet sugar and corn syrup. Sugar-free gums use sugar alcohols like xylitol or artificial sweeteners like aspartame.

Flavorings: Added to give a desired flavor. They can be natural or synthetic.

Candy

candy, also called confectionery, sweet food product, the main constituent of which generally is sugar. The application of the terms candy and confectionery varies among English-speaking countries. In the United States candy refers to both chocolate products and sugar-based confections; elsewhere “chocolate confectionery” refers to chocolates, “sugar confectionery” to the various sugar-based products, and “flour confectionery” to products such as cakes and pastries. This article is primarily concerned with sugar confectionery. Other types of confections are discussed in the articles baking and cocoa.

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afrolesbikita · 3 years

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Stories and interesting info on POS and POS System Hardware.

As Texas braces for its notoriously scorching summer temperatures, the state House agreed to install air conditioning in dozens of uncooled prisons within seven years — but only if lawmakers set aside money for it.

On Thursday night, the Texas House initially passed a bill that would require all Texas lockups to be cooled over a seven-year span, capping costs at $300 million. But the state prison agency would only have to abide by the measure if lawmakers also agree to provide state or federal funds toward cooling costs. The bill finally cleared the House Friday on a 123-18 vote and was sent to the Senate.

“The reality is, in Texas, we are cooking people in prisons,” state Rep. Terry Canales, D-Edinburg, said on the floor when presenting his bill. “This is the right thing to do, it is the humane thing to do, and it’s something we should have done a long time ago.”

Currently, 70% of the state’s nearly 100 prison facilities do not have air conditioning in living areas. Some areas, like administrative offices and infirmaries, are air conditioned at all units.

In the last decade, at least 13 men have died of heat stroke while incarcerated in Texas prisons, according to court records and autopsy reports. Many more prisoners and guards are sickened each year in temperatures that often soar past 100 degrees, requiring intravenous fluids after reporting dizziness, nausea, heat rashes and muscle cramps.

For years, Texas Democrats have proposed measures to require state prisons to have cooling systems, as is the case in county jails. But legislators have balked at the cost, which the prison agency estimates would be more than $1 billion — though it has grossly overestimated air conditioning costs in the past.

In 2017, after a federal judge slammed the Texas Department of Criminal Justice for being “deliberately indifferent” to the potentially fatal risk of stifling temperatures inside a geriatric prison, Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton argued that “taxpayers shouldn’t be on the hook for tens of millions of dollars to pay for expensive prison air conditioning systems.”

The state has, however, spent millions of dollars in ongoing legal battles while resisting installing the cooling units. The yearslong lawsuit at the geriatric Pack Unit cost the state more than $7.3 million in legal fees. TDCJ ultimately settled the suit in 2018 and agreed to cool the prison near College Station, which cost less than $4 million — a fraction of the prison agency’s original estimate of more than $20 million.

Dozens of other lawsuits against TDCJ over heat-related deaths and illnesses have cost the state millions more since the summer of 2011, when a heat wave in Texas killed at least 10 imprisoned men.

“The reality is what we’re doing is disgusting. It’s truly disheartening,” Canales told the House Corrections Committee last month. “I don’t think we have a money problem. I think we have a give-a-damn problem.”

This year, Canales filed House Bill 1971 to incrementally install air conditioning in Texas’ uncooled prisons at a maximum cost of $100 million per biennium. The bill would permit three two-year phases of installation, ending with all state prisons cooled below 85 degrees before 2029. TDCJ said the cost would be much higher, but Canales and other lawmakers have called the agency’s billion-dollar price tag “ridiculous.”

But even if Canales’ bill becomes law, state lawmakers would still need to separately set aside state dollars or seek federal funding for it. The funds couldn’t come from TDCJ’s existing budget. The bill instead relies on lawmakers in the future giving TDCJ state funds specifically for cooling or directing federal dollars toward the project.

Still, the bill’s passage on the House floor this session is the furthest a prison air conditioning bill has gone in the Texas Legislature. Eye-popping cost estimates often kept air conditioning proposals from progressing beyond the first legislative step of a committee hearing in previous years.

But this year, Canales’ bill was unanimously voted out of the House Corrections Committee and was approved on a voice vote without opposition by the full chamber Thursday night. Other bills similar to previous proposals that did not include a staggered implementation failed to move forward. State Rep. Andrew Murr, the committee chair, said Thursday that Canales’ phased approach with specific budgeting allowed for success in his committee.

“This legislation takes steps to solve an infrastructure issue that has faced our correctional institutions for decades,” the Junction Republican said in an email.

At the bill’s committee hearing last month, Murr also questioned TDCJ about the high costs of litigation the state continues to face by continuing to avoid cooling its prisons, but prison officials did not provide specific numbers.

Texas has spent about $6.4 million legally representing TDCJ alone in prison heat litigation since 2011, according to billing records from the Texas Attorney General’s Office. And the state shelled out about $10 million more in settlement expenses in the last few years, including prisoners’ attorney fees and payouts to families in wrongful death lawsuits for prisoners who died of heat stroke.

In settling the high-profile heat lawsuit at the Pack Unit, TDCJ agreed in 2018 to pay $4.5 million to the plaintiffs’ attorneys. In 2019, the Texas legislature signed off on $1.8 million in payments to settle wrongful death lawsuits in the heat-related deaths of three prisoners in 2011 and 2012.

And the state agreed to pay another $3 million in settlement payouts connected to five other heat-related deaths that occurred in those years, according to records obtained by Texas Prisons Air-Conditioning Advocates and shared with The Texas Tribune. Plus, a man who sued over heat-related illness in prison after he was released received a $90,000 settlement.

Despite the continued legal costs, the advertised billion-dollar investment to cool prisons is not an easy sell, even with bipartisan skepticism of TDCJ’s estimate. In 2019, a Republican on the House Corrections Committee suggested an independent cost study since TDCJ had a history of inflated costs, but the prison agency still was the sole source of the cost estimate officially attached to bills this year.

In lieu of installing air conditioning, the costly lawsuits moved TDCJ to implement new heat safety protocols in 2018 — like more personal fans and a steady supply of ice water — in all of its units. Prison officials have argued such heat mitigation efforts work to keep prisoners safe, even if they may still be uncomfortable. Officials claimed that there were no heat-related deaths or major illnesses since the change of protocols.

But prisoners often say heat policies are followed inconsistently, and they have previously broken windows for air flow or flooded their cells to lie in water. Months after the Pack lawsuit was settled, a medical examiner ruled that a 54-year-old man at the Michael Unit died from environmental hyperthermia — often referred to as fatal heat stroke.

In 2019, TDCJ officials contested the cause of death, stating that the autopsy report was preliminary and the prisoner had been housed in an air conditioned cell. The state death report still lists hyperthermia as the cause of death, however. A TDCJ spokesperson said Thursday the agency still refuted the finding.

Carlee Purdum, an assistant research professor for the Hazard Reduction and Recovery Center at Texas A&M University, said without systemwide cooling, the prison agency won’t solve safety and medical problems associated with heat. Prison populations, her area of expertise, tend to be more vulnerable than people in the free world, since prisoners are often older and have more medical ailments that can be exacerbated by heat, she said.

“Investing in hazard mitigation saves so much money in the long term,” she said. “We’re expecting to see about a tripling of days in Texas that are over 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and this issue is only going to get worse … and more costly.”

For Amite Dominick, with Texas Prisons Air-Conditioning Advocates, the cost of air conditioning should be considered a preventive medical cost. But more important than the money, she said, are the people who get sick and die from the conditions the state holds them in.

“These people are being tortured,” she said. “We don’t treat animals like this, why on earth would we treat human beings like this?”

Disclosure: Texas A&M University has been a financial supporter of The Texas Tribune, a nonprofit, nonpartisan news organization that is funded in part by donations from members, foundations and corporate sponsors. Financial supporters play no role in the Tribune’s journalism. Find a complete list of them here.

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blueyesandleatherjacket · 4 years

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The Fallen, 9/17

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 9/17.

Pairings: Nine x Rose.

A/N: Tagging @thebookster on her demand.

“We've all fallen, but at the same time we're not broken. There is the hint that we are going to get up again.” - Amy Lee.

CHAPTER 9:

The Doctor woke up a few hours later. He was feeling groggy and nauseous. He tried to get up but his limbs weren’t responsive. He slumped back on the floor. Waited a couple minutes. Or hours. Tried to sit up. His mind was clouded, he couldn’t think straight. Whatever they had drugged him with this time, it was a strong one and it wasn’t wearing off easily. He groaned and rolled on his side so he wouldn’t choke on his vomit if he was sick. His head bumped against the foot of the busted bed. Pain exploded; black dots filled his sight. He stayed still. That was for the best. Stay still and wait until he felt better. He had expected Jeremy to attack again on the next day. He didn’t see him, nor any of his pets. Nash didn’t even come. Jeremy was certainly keeping her away. Isolating the patient when he was gonna need help was a strategy to have him getting desperate. Deprived from food, water and from a person checking on him while he was recovering from torture and a strong dose of drugs was dangerous but it could be worse. The Wolf didn’t show up. The drugs had weakened the Time Entity. Worse than when they had weakened his human host. But the worst was yet to come. Indeed, his biggest problem wasn’t to see no one. It was quite a relief actually. He could be in peace in that tiny cell that stunk like Hell. No, his biggest problem was the drugs. Lately, they had taken him out of his cell regularly. Scared of what he could do, they were drugging him to make him as innocent and soft as a kitty. His body had developed an addiction to those substances and now he was gonna get detoxified the hard way. For days, he was as sick as a dog. He was vomiting and trembling and sweating. Whenever he was getting a bit of sleep, he was dreaming of Jeremy getting what he wanted; of him torturing Rose to get him; dreaming of all the bad adventures when he was traveling through time and space. He was dehydrated and in a rough shape. However, he never begged for water and food. Not even meds. He handled it all by himself. When someone finally opened the door days later, he was lying on his side on the cold dirty ground. He was barely awake. He didn’t move at all – couldn’t really – when he was kicked in the ribs. Not even a sound. There was a laugh that would have given the chills to anyone able to react and he was chained up again. No drugs. What did they have in store for him this time? Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t gonna please him. Someone pulled him up. He was so weak that he couldn’t stand on his own. He collapsed on the person beside him, closed his eyes. The walls of the room he was in were pale lilac. He smiled. It reminded him of the flashy pink of Rose’s walls in Jackie’s tiny flat. The woman would never know how many nights he really spent in that room with Rose, how many nights he had spent, sat in the dark, watching Rose sleeping. Humans needed a ridiculous amount of sleep. It was annoying. He was always so bored when she was sleeping. He could have gone on an adventure alone but it was better with two. He couldn’t stand solitude anymore. Having Rose by his side was all he desired. “You look rough, Doctor.” This time, he was the one lying in a miserable condition with a glassy look and block up ears and she was the one sitting on the edge of his bed with a mocking smile. She was getting her revenge for all the times he had mocked her for her weak condition. “Time Lords don’t get sick.” “You’re gonna tel me you’re burning up because of your superior biology?” “My body adjusts its temperature.” “You just forgot that you’re human now.” The Doctor blinked. It was true. Even with a part of the Time Vortex in his mind, he remained an ordinary human who was vulnerable to every germ. Rose had a strong immune system. She wasn’t falling sick that much. But she was always in a rough shape whenever her period hit. Something he would never understand. “You have to wake up, Doctor.” Her voice was an echo. Yet, she was just beside him. Her hands were touching his naked body respectfully. Caring gestures: a hand on his forehead to check for fever, a hand holding his. She cleaned his face with a cold wet rag. Everything he would have done for her. “You wouldn’t miss the birth of this new star! Come on, Doctor. It won’t happen for another trillion years.” “What do you know about stars, little human?” he croaked. “More than you if you sleep for another full day.” “I do not sleep. I meditate.” “It’s time to wake up now.” He opened his eyes reluctantly. The walls were grey and the bed was more comfortable than usual. He scanned the surroundings. There was no one around. The place was unfamiliar. It wasn’t Rose’s room, not even his. There wasn’t the usual hum of the TARDIS. He wasn’t in his ship. He slowly sat up. His body was still but it didn’t hurt. Not anymore. Strangely, he felt quite good. Exhausted as if he had gone through Hell and back, but good. He laced around the room. The only way out was locked. The other door was the door of a bathroom. A very tiny bathroom. He was wearing a white cotton outfit. “You have gone through a terrible week. I understand that you might be confused.” He turned around. There was a woman in the room. He hadn’t even heard the door. He was disappointed to find out it wasn’t Rose. The woman was older. She was relieved to see him awake. He was supposed to recognise her. His mind was making attempts to send him signals. He rubbed his face, tapped his forehead with his thumb but nothing came. Nothing until she put a hand on his shoulder. Her aura hit him. She was not a human being. She was a shapeshifter, and one of the most dangerous. “I don’t know what you’ve done to Jeremy but he has left after your last meeting and hasn’t come back yet.” Jeremy. The flash of a man looking just like him. But in his eyes… nothing but the darkness. A dark void. The devil in person. Or almost. He was there to hunt the Time Lords and steal their secrets, their technology, their longevity. Other species had just been a funny exercise but now was the time to beat the final boss. If you could find the secrets of the universe’s keepers, you would be unstoppable. But the Wolf had preferred ruining his brain than giving in. “Where’s Rose? What has he done to her?” He moved away from her touch. He was uneasy around her. His mind was trying to retrieve his missing memories. Rose was there. She had been taking care of him. She had been talking to him. Or had they made him believe she was there? Had they brought her here and taken her away from him? “She’s not here,” answered the woman. “She has never been here. Your friend… you’re keeping her safe. You refuse to tell Jeremy where she is.” The Doctor remained silent. His brain was overwhelmed with thoughts. It was too much. The woman gently led him to the bed and forced him to sit down before he felt bad. The last few weeks had been hard on him. He should go slow. She didn’t want him to dive back. He was still recovering. “They initiated your detoxification. They were planning on giving you drugs again when you’d be the most vulnerable. But you ruined their plans and I stepped in. Brought you up here, helped you through. You’ve been hallucinating.” “I do not hallucinate.” “With the fever you had, you definitely were.” “Why am I here?” “You won’t be here for much longer.” The Doctor raised an eyebrow. Her tone was determined. She was gonna get him out of here. Today. He just needed to trust and follow her. Jeremy was away and she had distributed laced coffees to his pets. The path was free from obstacles but they had little time. She took him all the way down to the basement, to the deepest core of this asylum. His mind was flashing memories he had tried to forget. The yellow room, the purple room, the red room. All rooms of torture. That was why he hesitated to enter the green room. It was pretty naked compared to the others. Just a table with a computer and headsets to monitor a brain’s activity. He had come here before. Once or twice. This was all a blur. “We will make them believe that we did a monitoring session.” She was already working on launching the computer and headsets. She wanted a telepathic conversation with him but couldn’t do it freely. This room was the only way to do it without suspicion. The wolf inside him trusted this woman, this Nash, so the Doctor stepped in, placed the headset on his head and let Nash connect him to the system. There was a whole recording room behind the green room. Nash was fake-recording. She had gone through this process before. Not here, but it had happened. The Doctor let her in his mind and she was surprised by the nakedness and austerity of the place. She had expected it to be livelier, more colourful, but it was just a dark room with locked doors. There were two men. They were identical. A perfect copy of each other. One of the them was the Doctor, the other was Maxence. One was asleep in a corner, the other was standing straight, his arms folded on his chest, next to a silver Wolf. From the look in his eyes, he was the human host and not the Time Lord. Another surprise. ‘The Doctor has been off for a long time,’ he explained. ‘It has been me all along.’ ‘You were convincing. No one noticed anything.’ ‘We share the same memories. I know everything about him and he knows everything about me.’ ‘You all played your cards wonderfully but we don’t have much time. We need to talk.’ Her gaze was on the Wolf. It was the one in charge there. None of them blinked when Maxence collapsed to the ground. The Wolf had temporarily neutralised him to have a proper conversation with Nash. She was right. Maxence had done a fantastic job at taking the Doctor’s place. The two of them were the two sides of the same coin. That was why Maxence had been chosen to be the incarnation of this Doctor who survived the Time War. He was a strong man who had survived the worst in human terms, who had handled the burden of the Doctor like no other would have been able to. It was time to reward him for all the sacrifices he had made for the sake of the universe…

To be continued...

×××

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#doctor who #ninth doctor #rose tyler #doctor x rose #dwfic #the fallen

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gumnut-logic · 5 years

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Virgil and The Last Straw

Title: Virgil and The Last Straw

Author: Gumnut

27 - 28 Jul 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: It all came to a climax on that day, but, really, it began many weeks before that.

Word count: 3889

Spoilers & warnings: Angst, family

Timeline: Standalone

Author’s note: Nutty’s Fandomversary Fic Seven – Virgil and the last straw

Okay, I admit this one was written outside the prompt request order. I apologise, but it was a special day for @i-am-chidorixblossom and I wanted to write this fic as close as possible to that day. Best wishes, Chiddi! And I hope everyone else enjoys it as well :D

Many thanks to @scribbles97 and @vegetacide for the read throughs :D

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

It all came to a climax on that day, but, really, it began many weeks before that.

It started with his vacation. Or more the lack of his vacation.

He had been hanging out for his week of leave. Ever so looking forward to it. A few days in Paris before another few in Florence. A chance to walk idle, not rush, not be anywhere in particular, just explore.

Ever so looking forward to it.

Until an earthquake in Japan took so, so many lives. International Rescue did everything they could, but as always, they couldn’t save everyone. Virgil had a child die in his arms, followed by her mother. And to top it all off, a chunk of concrete caught him unawares, bruising his shoulder and causing him to wrench his ankle in an attempt to get out of the way. Gordon had to pull him out from under the remains of the shopping centre.

So shitty rescue and no vacation.

But it didn’t stop there.

Four days later, he woke from a fitful sleep to a raw throat and a high temperature. By the end of the day it was a full-blown flu. Hobbled and aching all over, Virgil Tracy curled up in bed and hid. Worse, he had to kick out his entire family, worried that any of them might catch the bug and cripple IR further.

Alone and miserable, he suffered through a nasty week of shivering, aching and a god-awful hacking cough. He shed weight through lack of appetite and not a little nausea. By the time he crawled out of his room he was a shadow of himself.

Two days later, while Virgil was still confined to the island, a cargo plane collided with Thunderbird Two midair. Her cahelium hull took the impact well, but the opposing craft tangled in her port wing, destabilised her flight and yanked her out of the sky.

Fortunately, they were over water and flying low enough that when they hit the ocean surface, both ships survived. Unfortunately, the cargo pilot did not and Gordon, who was flying TB2 suffered a nasty concussion.

A mad scramble with Alan in Thunderbird Four held precariously aloft by Thunderbird One and they fished Gordon off the ocean floor. Their aquanaut brother spent a few days with nausea, a throbbing headache and a deep-seated fear of his second eldest brother.

He needn’t have bothered. Virgil was only thankful Gordon had survived.

It could so easily have been worse.

It was with this determined thought that Virgil faced hauling his ‘bird off the ocean floor. Scott tried to ground him - Virgil was still sporting a nasty cough and was far from fit - but the engineer put up such a verbal fight, Scott was riled up and they ended up shouting at each other.

Not quite the effect the commander had been looking for.

So Virgil got his way and led four specialised pods out into the middle of the Pacific.

Halfway home, his ‘bird hanging below them, one of the support cables snapped. Thunderbird Two swung unbalanced, dragging his pod toward the waves. It was only thanks to a hurried grapple shot from Thunderbird One, flying escort, that he didn’t end up back in the drink.

It was a sad and slow limp home.

Another argument sparked up almost the moment the two brothers set foot on Tracy Island. Scott arguing that Virgil should go to bed, Virgil denying the broken cable was his fault. The younger brother was such a mess he didn’t realise Scott wasn’t blaming him for the cable, he was just concerned for Virgil’s health.

It turned into a screaming match for the record books.

It took John, hot from re-entry, to stop the yelling.

“What the hell is going on here?!” His normally calm voice, raised in volume was enough to shock both brothers out of what had become a pitiful excuse for an argument.

John didn’t give them the chance to answer. “I can hear both of you idiots from space. Virgil, you are still sick. Go to bed.” Virgil opened his mouth to protest, but turquoise eyes narrowed in on him. “Virgil, now.”

There was something in John’s expression, something somewhat alarming. To Virgil’s consternation he realised he was trembling. Not from anger, but exhaustion. John’s frown deepened and Virgil took a step back. It was his ‘bird. His beautiful ‘bird.

“Go to bed, Virgil. She will still be there in the morning.” More reassurance than admonishment.

How could he explain that leaving her on her runway like that just hurt? That she would haunt his dreams? That he wouldn’t sleep?

“Go, Virgil.” Soft, but firm.

He frowned at John, but found himself turning towards the elevator and his rooms. His hands were shaking. Damn it, this was ridiculous.

As he entered the elevator, he heard John turn on Scott. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

The doors cut off Scott’s reply.

He made it to his rooms and didn’t even bother to undress, just throwing himself onto the bed. His boots hit the floor with a double thunk and he closed his eyes.

Thunderbird Two fell from his grip over and over and over.

-o-o-o-

The next morning he woke feeling even worse.

He ignored it and headed down to his ‘bird.

Brains had moved TB2 into her hangar and had engaged the automatic cleaning system. A vacuum pump was sucking the moisture out of her systems and drones buzzed around her, picking seaweed and sealife off her hull.

She stunk.

How many times would he have to wash ocean out of his girl? She wasn’t a submarine, but she was determined to try to be again and again, either voluntarily or involuntarily.

Brains hurried up to him. “W-we are going to n-need to replace part of h-her thruster assembly. Sand h-has corroded her intakes beyond r-repair.”

Damn.

That was a week’s worth of work in itself.

“What else?” No doubt Brains had done a thorough assessment already. The man slept less than Scott.

“Forward c-cannon flooded, e-electrics blown, port wing warped, port s-structure suspect...” Brains continued down his mental list and Virgil’s heart sank further and further into the tarmac below.

Planes weren’t meant to survive falling out of the sky.

He was lucky she was a Thunderbird or she would be little more than scrap metal.

Didn’t stop him from dropping his face into his hand.

“A-are you okay, V-Virgil?”

He looked up to find the kindly engineer staring at him worriedly.

Virgil sighed. “I will be. Once she’s flying again.”

To his surprise, Brains reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “W-we will fix her, Virgil.”

A slight smile and Virgil placed his hand on the one on his shoulder. “Yes, we will.”

They both turned to stare up at the green behemoth.

Another sigh.

“Guess we better get started.”

-o-o-o-

By mid-morning Virgil was considering changing careers. Perhaps he could move to London and hang out with Cass McCready. He could still do good, but he would never have to scrub sand out of anything ever again.

Brains was called away an hour into their schedule, John having some difficulty with Thunderbird Five. So Virgil was left to himself and a handful of bots.

An hour was spent programming the fabricators to create the parts he needed.

Three out of the five parts he initially built proved faulty and had to be recycled. He started from scratch twice.

Worse, the electrics issue proved more complicated than expected. TB2’s hull was watertight under normal circumstances, but the warping of her wing had created stress fractures on her port side. Just enough for some water to get into the electrics. Wicking action had drawn that water into most of her electronics, including her computer core.

The heart and soul of his baby had drowned at the bottom of the ocean.

The discovery had him on his knees in her cockpit silent for a whole minute. It was hidden as she was completely powered down, but he had found the water trail.

His head landed in his hands.

“Virgil?” It was quiet.

“Not now, Gordon. Just not now.”

“You okay?” He heard his brother’s footsteps on his girl’s decking. A hand landed on his shoulder.

He shook it off. “Not now.”

“V-“

“Gordon, please, just...leave.”

“Vir-“

“Get out! Leave me alone! Just go!” It came out in a rush and it was loud.

His brother left in a hurry.

His throat hurt in more ways than one.

Alone, he coughed so hard he saw stars. Leaning back against the main console, he closed his eyes and just sat.

-o-o-o-

It hurt, it was a challenge, but Virgil was a Tracy. Ten minutes of despair was enough and he pushed himself off the deck and straightened his shoulders.

She would fly again even if he had to program and rewire her himself by hand.

Back to the fabricators. Another programming run only to discover they were low on cahelium and optical fibre. Supply orders on the IR network and an argument with an idiot clerk halfway around the world who didn’t know the difference between copper and optical.

Cahelium was unique to IR and required base level processing. They were low because he had missed his own job list due to illness. That and he didn’t usually need to replace half a Thunderbird.

The thought just hurt.

Automation was the key to Tracy Island’s manufacturing processes.

When he discovered one of the cahelium smelters was offline due to a faulty part, his head almost exploded.

Okay, take a break. Another coughing session had him leaning against the smelter console gasping for breath.

For goodness sake.

Coffee.

His go-to for comfort and reassurance and energy.

He would grab a coffee and attack this from another angle calmly.

He made it to the kitchen without losing another lung and settled in front of his second favourite machine.

Poking buttons for his comfort concoction, he stared at the gadget as it sparked under his fingers and died.

He was speechless for an entire minute.

“You have got to be kidding me.” It came out in a hoarse rush.

His fingers hit the buttons again, but the machine was dead.

No coffee.

He lost it.

The world whited out in fury and the coffee machine was suddenly airborne. It flew across the kitchen to land with a godawful crash on the other side of the room.

Someone yelped and he looked up to find Alan hovering near the stairs, his eyes wide with a combination of terror and worry.

The sight of his little brother running away from him up the stairs, sobered Virgil immediately.

Shit.

SHIT!

His hands climbed into his hair and he let himself slide down the kitchen cabinets until his butt hit the floor.

Damn.

His head fell into his hands.

And his throat closed up, barely allowing him to breathe.

-o-o-o-

He sat there for he didn’t know how long. His butt was sore and another cough was building when he was joined by a brother dressed in his familiar blue. Scott sighed as he folded himself down beside Virgil. He didn’t say anything, just sat beside him.

Virgil didn’t even acknowledge his existence.

“I’ve sent Alan to the mainland to get us a new coffee machine. Told him to get one with all the perks.”

He didn’t answer. Took too much energy to answer.

An arm wrapped around him and his head was drawn to his brother’s shoulder. “Talk to me, Virg.” Quiet, a little rough and worried.

Scott, always so worried.

Virgil didn’t want to talk.

He just wanted it all to stop.

He closed his eyes and leant into his brother. The arm around his shoulder tightened and was joined by Scott’s other arm wrapping around him and holding him close.

It wasn’t worth crying over, but god he felt like it.

Spilt coffee and all.

His sigh was more like a sob, despite his eyes being dry.

So tired.

That cough built again and he was once again hacking up a lung. His brother held him as he spasmed.

Great. Now he would never get back to the hangars to fix his ‘bird.

“You know, you don’t have to do this alone?”

Huh? He looked up into worried blue. Who else was going to do it? She was his ‘bird. He had to put her back together.

“Don’t look so shocked. I don’t recall you leaving any ‘bird unattended in such a condition, why would any of us neglect yours?”

“I-“

“Virgil, you’re sick and exhausted. We’ve got this. Give yourself a break.”

“But what if we’re called out-“

“We can only do our best, and what’s best for you right at this moment is rest.”

“Scott-“

“No, Virgil.” He drew in a breath. “Don’t you trust us?”

“I-“ His breath hitched and he was coughing up yet another lung. Scott was rubbing his back. His head was pounding.

“Go to bed, Virg. I’ll send Grandma up to make sure you’re comfortable.” Virgil shot him a frightened look, but Scott held up his hand. “No food, no home remedies, I promise. Just Grandma.”

With that Scott stood up and offered Virgil his hand.

The engineer stared up at his brother, half-heartedly defiant, but took it anyway. As if to drive the point home, the world wobbled for a moment and he stumbled.

Scott caught him and started leading him up the stairs. “Bed, Virgil. Leave Thunderbird Two to us.”

His suspicions were immediately aroused when Grandma met them at the top of the stairs. To top it all off, a glance into the comms room and he found three other brothers, one engineer and a sister peering at him worriedly.

What the hell was John doing down here?’

“C’mon, Virgil, dear, let’s get you comfortable.” Grandma was no nonsense and despite his physical strength being many times hers, he gave no resistance as she led him into the elevator, into the residential section and eventually into his rooms.

At least she didn’t offer to undress him.

But she did tuck him in. “Now, rest, Virgil. Everything is going to be okay.” Her hand found his hair and her fingers combed gently through.

Mom used to do that.

Mom.

He sagged into the bed. Perhaps he could let go.

Let go.

-o-o-o-

“You know, kid, I’ve been doing some research on you.”

Virgil froze in the door to his bathroom. He knew that voice. Oh god.

A glance over towards his sofa and yes, it was confirmed.

Kip Harris was in his living room.

He blinked.

What was Kip Harris doing in his living room?

Virgil became suddenly very aware that moments before he had wandered zombie-like out of his bedroom wearing little but a pair of pyjama pants and attended to his morning necessaries in the bathroom with his idol sitting on his couch in full view.

Thank god, he had shut the bathroom door this morning.

“Mr Harris? Uh, what are you doing here?”

“Gordon let me in. Said you’d be happy to see me.” Yes, that was a smirk on the older man’s face.

Gordon was so dead.

Kip snorted. “Don’t kill him, son. I was fully aware of what I was doing. Sally said you were having a bit of a low run. I thought we could take this opportunity for a little one-on-one.” He held up his left leg. It was wrapped in a cast. “Had a bit of a low one of my own. Thought we could share the boredom.”

“Really?” Okay, so it was higher pitched than normal.

“Why, sure. As I said, I’ve been doing a bit of research and I find myself admiring your work. Wouldn’t mind swapping a few stories with you, myself.”

Virgil was staring.

“Of course, that’s if we can talk.” The man was grinning at him.

Virgil flushed scarlet.

More so than normal since he wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Um, I’ll just go get some clothes on first.”

“No, hurry. Though Sally’s laid on a breakfast down there. Something about O’Malley’s speciality?”

Virgil was staring again.

A blink and he was moving.

Red flannel was thrown on in a hurry. O’Malleys was not something to be toyed with. The family owned business was to steak what the Tracys were to rescues. Their breakfast menu was to die for.

Scott must have hauled it in on TB1 to get it here fast enough.

He offered Kip a hand up and the man deployed a pair of crutches. “I’d be very interested if you’d fill me in on how you and your brothers managed to get a panda off a plane midair.”

Virgil held the door. “How do you know about that?”

Kip grinned at him. “Oh, a little brother may have mentioned it. Something about you slicing off the entire rear end of a plane?”

“Really?”

“Well, it might be presumptive of me, but I believe your brothers are quite proud of you.”

Virgil froze halfway down the corridor. “Exactly how long have you been on Tracy Island?”

“Oh, long enough to be told several heroic stories starring you.”

Virgil didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or alarmed. He blushed either way while holding the elevator doors.

“Don’t you be worrying about it, son. It never hurts to have a proud family.” Something flickered across the man’s face for just a moment before the grin returned. “Though I have to say, young Gordon, was particularly enthusiastic. Did you really do that with a barbecue?”

Shit.

And Kip burst out laughing. “Oh, I can see why he does it. With a face like that, son, you’re just asking for it.”

Somebody was asking for it.

“Heh. I had one of those, rapscallion little brat. Drive you to the edge, but then risk his life to save yours.” He smiled down at Virgil. “Cherish him while you can.”

A frown and he relented. “Yes, sir. I do, sir.”

“And drop the ‘sir’. The name’s Kip.”

“Yes, sir.”

A flat stare.

“Yes, Kip.”

A small smile. “Much better.”

The elevator doors opened and they were suddenly surrounded by the most delicious aromas. Steak, eggs, and, oh god, bacon.

And coffee.

Coffee!

“Virgil, honey, help Kip over to the table.” Grandma.

“What? Oh, sorry, sir.” Virgil moved furniture out of the way, giving Kip easy access to the well-laden table and helping him with his chair.

Scott shot Virgil an assessing glance, one he must have passed because his big brother didn’t say anything, only dropping a plate down in front of first Kip then Virgil. A soft smile before he turned back to grab some cutlery.

“Hey, Virg, how you feeling?” Gordon’s grin on the other side of the table was a little hesitant though determined.

“Better, thank you.” A pause. “Sorry, for yesterday.” He caught his brother’s eyes trying to convey his sincerity.

Gordon waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it, bro. We’ve all been there. She’s your ‘bird. Totally get it.” As always, Gordon’s tone was flippant, but the emotion in his eyes said everything. Their russet brown sparkled with fondness.

Virgil’s attention was sideswiped by Alan barrelling into him. “Virg, tell me you’re okay.”

Totally stunned, he froze for a moment. Alan hadn’t hugged him like this in years. He struggled to find words as his hands wrapped around him. In the end he settled on doing exactly what his little brother asked. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” Alan let him go, briefly squeezing his arm before ducking around an absorbed Brains towards the food on the table.

“Sit down, young man. Where are your manners?” Grandma, ever on guard, glared at the youngest.

John slid into the seat beside him. “Good to see you finally awake.”

“What?”

“You were out for a good fourteen hours. Scott was on the verge of breaking into your room with a medical scanner.”

“I was not.” Scott slipped into a seat opposite John. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I am quite capable of reporting the facts, Scotty. It’s my job after all.”

“Scotty?”

The smile that curved John’s lips was pure smart ass.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t called him Scotty in years.”

“There’s a reason for that.” Scott’s glare was so flat it affected the curvature of the planet.

John’s smile just got wider. “I think I’ll start using it again. It communicates so much.”

“Sure, Johnny.” Scott had his own weaponised smile.

“I can live with that.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. That was a first. He darted a glance at Gordon, but the aquanaut’s expression reflected his own, eyes wide.

“I’m beginning to think I might need that medical scanner.”

The moment he said it, he regretted it. Four pairs of eyes latched onto him, worry foremost.

“Virg?” Gordon spoke before any of them.

He flung up his hands. “I’m okay, honest. It’s you I’m beginning to wonder about. Are you guys okay?”

“We are now you are.” Gordon’s voice was quiet. A sigh. “Eat, Virg, you’re half the man you used to be.” His brother dumped a huge slab of meat on Virgil’s plate and followed it with a couple of eggs and a pile of bacon.

“You might as well, son. Family won’t be happy until you do.” Despite himself, Virgil jumped. He had forgotten Kip was there.

“Yes, sir.”

There was a scoff from Gordon across the table and a slither of toast slapped Virgil on the forehead.

“Gordon Cooper Tracy! Where are your manners?! We have a guest.” Grandma was sitting on the other side of Kip, her hand on his arm.

Oh, yes, that.

Ignoring that thought, Virgil turned to Gordon. “What the hell was that for?”

“Virgil! Language!”

“Sorry, Grandma.”

“You boys settle down and eat your breakfast. This is a rare treat. Thank you to Scott for the early morning flight to collect this meal. And Kip.” She patted the man’s arm and they smiled at each other.

Yes, that.

A large mug of steaming coffee appeared at Virgil’s elbow and he jumped. His sister smiled down at him, knowing the exact effect she had on him. “Good morning, Virgil. Here’s your coffee.” Kayo’s smile was laughing at him.

“You love doing that, don’t you.”

“Oh, you know I do.” Her hand landed on his shoulder. “Good to see you are feeling better. You had us all worried.”

He blinked as she brushed past him and took a seat on the other side of Grandma.

Her words sunk in. He was feeling better. There had been sleep and now there was family. Kip Harris was willing to talk shop and there was enough food to feed a hoard.

His ‘bird was still grounded. There was still work by the bucketload. His body still wasn’t running at one hundred percent. But this was a moment. This was his family.

“Thanks, guys.”

Gordon grinned at him and Scott caught his eyes, his blue smiling.

The coffee was warm as it hit the back of his throat, but it wasn’t the source of the warmth in his heart.

A small cough to clear his throat and Virgil smiled.

He was a very, very lucky man.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #alan tracy #nuttys fandomversary

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aestheticvoyage2018 · 5 years

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Day 310: Tuesday November 6, 2018 - “Vote Aqui”

Took my time out at the end of the day to walk over to the Methodist Church down around the corner to place my ballot in the ballot box. This years midterms were highlighted by an amazing amount of early voting and mail in ballots - but theres something special about going and doing it in person. I put on a blue shirt, and my american flag hat, and went and got my sticker. Then I came home and settled in to watch the returns. The Republicans kept the Senate with a great hand dealt, Dems took over the House with politics at the local level riding a progressive Blue wave, that fed Governors races too, including Michigan that flipped back to Blue at the State level. A record number of women and minorities were elected; Colorado successfully elected an openly gay-governor and saw its first first-man. A record number of voters turned out for mid-terms, nearing 50% of eligible voters, a 10% increase from the last mid-term. I was one of 2,140,600 Arizonans to cast a ballot was watching closely the results of our stand-out race, for the Senate seat. As the mostly red state kept with tradition down ballot, and overnight comeback pushed our dem candidate to DC, winning by about 30K votes. Squeaked it out and I wondered how McSally felt about all those really ridiculous ads that were paid for.... why would you spend so much money to be mean? Im glad this red state rejected more of that. I look forward to calling Sinema as much as Ive called Flake lately. Our county delivered her with 56% of the vote.

Despite moving around as much as I have, it seems I find the bluer spots to align with. In this purple state, Tucson is the more progressive place to be. Denver, Bellingham, St Louis. Over the last ten years Ive participated in every election and was very prideful of showing up to do my part today here in the Old Pueblo. I was also thrilled that all those infuriating campaign ads would finally stop. Hope that the new congress can help change the temperature of the nation. And I cant wait to be here again in 2 years.

Song: Kenny Chesney - Better Boat

Quote: “The most dangerous people in the world are not the tiny minority instigating evil acts, but those who do the acts for them. For example, when the British invaded India, many Indians accepted to work for the British to kill off Indians who resisted their occupation. So in other words, many Indians were hired to kill other Indians on behalf of the enemy for a paycheck. Today, we have mercenaries in Africa, corporate armies from the western world, and unemployed men throughout the Middle East killing their own people - and people of other nations - for a paycheck. To act without a conscience, but for a paycheck, makes anyone a dangerous animal. The devil would be powerless if he couldn't entice people to do his work. So as long as money continues to seduce the hungry, the hopeless, the broken, the greedy, and the needy, there will always be war between brothers.” ― Suzy Kassem

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sending-the-message · 6 years

Text

Aggression by TheForgottenPear

I was born with complete hearing loss; something that once saved my life.

It was 1958; I was twelve years old living with my family in an upper class neighborhood outside of a borough in New Jersey. My father was a successful entrepreneur who seemed to perpetually be on extended business trips, and my mother was a doctor at the local clinic always working long hours. When their schedules were open long enough to spend time with their kids, they preferred to find upscale parties to flaunt their earnings with all of their other wealthy friends.

As much as they would try and deny it, my sister was the one who raised me.

Carla was sixteen at the time but had the equivalent workload of a stay-at-home mom. She was in the popular crowd at her high school, but because of my parent’s schedules, she was forced to spend more time taking care of me. Most kids her age would loathe that, but she never complained. My hearing loss never felt like an inconvenience around her and from the moment my family found out about it, she started spending countless hours learning sign language. Despite all she did for me, I realize now how much I treated her like shit.

On one particular day, Carla was making breakfast when she got a phone call from her boyfriend. I walked into the kitchen half asleep and sat down at our kitchen table quickly burying my head in my arms. Carla tapped my shoulder while holding the phone at its full extension from the receiver.

I pretended not to notice as I clung to the hope she would give up and let me fall back asleep. She tapped my shoulder once more.

“Jesus, Carla. What?”

“Would you want to go to Bendix with Paul and I tonight?”

She had tucked the phone under her cheek and was signing while she spoke; I paid little attention to her hand movements as I was trying to get more proficient at reading lips.

“I'm in. It beats your cooking.”

My comment didn’t upset her as much as I expected and she instead played it off as if I were joking.

“Paul, Joe said he’s reluctant to have anything other than one of my gourmet meals, but that he would join.”

I tucked my head back in my arms and fell asleep.

Bendix was our favorite place in town, bar none. It checked all of the boxes of what a great diner should have: great food, great service, and a jukebox. Granted, the music itself meant little to me, it was clear how much of a difference on everyone’s mood having a jukebox made.

The place was always electric and that night was no exception. Carla, Paul, and I pulled into the final parking spot in the lot and took a second before getting out of the car. Our parents had bought her a brand new red 58’ Impala for her birthday a couple weeks back and she liked it when people walked up admiring it.

A guy from her high school wasted little time to do exactly that.

“Paul, I didn’t realize you had enough money sitting around to buy her a car like this.”

“I don’t. Joe back there won it for her in a game of poker.”

“No shit? This kid?”

I had managed to interpret their interaction but also was quickly reminded via everyone’s stares and smiles just how shy of a person I was. Paul looked happily surprised the guy was buying into his bullshit. The temperature in my cheeks rose dramatically.

“Yeah… I, uh… got a royal house.”

Paul immediately turned around and careened his neck toward the sky. He had one of those laughs that forced his body to accommodate its intensity. It was on my list of things I wish I could have heard even just one time, but his body heaves provided a quality amount of humor nevertheless.

Carla was trying not to laugh at his ridiculous movements as she turned back towards the guy outside the car.

“It was a gift from my dad.”

“Well he’s got good taste. You might want to check yours though and dump the shuck in your passenger seat.”

He jokingly flipped Paul off and walked back toward his group of people outside the diner. Paul was still in hysterics.

“He believed me… a goddamn royal house…”

Carla shook her head and laughed as we all got out of the car.

Whatever the maximum occupancy of the diner was, I’m sure the place wasn’t far off from meeting it. The large crowd of mostly energetic teenagers filled nearly every table and seat at the bar. Carla took point for our group and quickly pointed out a lone empty table in the far right corner of the diner. We rushed back there as if our lives were at stake and sat down with a level of relief that suggested we escaped a war zone.

Paul scooted closer to Carla and put his arm around her.

“I can’t think of the last time we’ve gotten to an open table that quickly.”

Carla motioned for a waitress and then turned back resting her elbows on the table.

“It’s a good thing too. I’m starving guys.”

The music playing over the jukebox must’ve changed to a more interesting track because Carla’s face immediately lit up. It didn’t take long for her to start dancing in her seat. Paul, who had vastly different tastes in music, also seemed to be enjoying the tune. In a matter of seconds, I was the only one at the table not dancing and Carla quickly noticed.

“Trust me, Joe, I’m sure you’d love this song!”

My unwarranted cranky mood had carried over from the morning, so I just rolled my eyes and diverted my attention elsewhere.

The waitress, having noticed Carla and Paul’s energy, walked over smiling with some glasses of water.

“Can I get you all started on some coffee?”

Carla was still rhythmically bobbing her head.

“Yes, please! By the way, what song is this?”

“It’s a new one! We swapped out some songs in the jukebox yesterday. You’ll have to go check them out.”

The waitress walked away and Carla turned towards Paul.

“Go see if they have Peggy Sue?”

She was fiercely tugging the sleeve of his shirt as he tried to stand up to accommodate her request. I rolled my eyes once more.

“Why do you care that much to hear it again? You’ve heard the song a million times.”

Carla smiled as she turned back towards me.

“It’s so good though! If you could hear it …”

“But I can’t! It doesn’t matter if I would love it. Maybe ask your boyfriend what he wants to listen to. It’s not always about what you want.”

I wasn’t that frustrated, but I could tell I had crossed a line and hurt Carla’s feelings. Paul made a face at me that indicated he also knew I had said too much. She was trying to hold back her emotions as she sat still in her seat. Realizing what I had done, I sighed and got up to go find the song for her.

The jukebox was on the opposite end of the diner, but it stuck out like a bright blue sore thumb. The neon tubes that ran down both of its sides casted a glow on everything within a five feet radius; it was always a dream of mine to have one in my room.

Approaching the machine, every part of my figure was suddenly enveloped in blue. Within the machine, various records lay stacked on top of one another with their corresponding names laid out right in front of me. In a time before iPods and the internet, having even just fifteen songs to choose from was overwhelming.

Peggy Sue wasn’t one of the choices, though many of her other favorite songs from artists like Elvis and Little Richard were represented. There were fifteen buttons to signify fifteen choices, but I noticed only fourteen of them were labeled. I counted the stack of records inside the dome-shaped window and sure enough, it looked like they had just forgot to add the last label.

I was intrigued at the uncertainty; maybe Peggy Sue was in the machine after all. I had nothing to go on other than my curiosity, but I decided to take a shot in the dark. I put a couple nickels in the coin slot and selected mystery number fifteen. The jukebox began preparing the song as I started walking back to our table.

Paul had temporarily moved over to a stool at the bar. One of the employees was a good friend of his and they liked to talk baseball every time they met up.

I must’ve sat back down at our table moments after the jukebox started playing my selection.

Carla was sitting perfectly still where she was when I got up. I picked up on the upset expression she was sporting immediately.

“This isn’t Peggy Sue is it?”

She didn’t answer. Her body was motionless.

“…Hello? Carla?”

I was snapping my fingers in front of her face. Nothing.

“Carla, I’m sorry about what I said. You’re one of the most selfless people I…”

The severity of the situation became clear the second I took my eyes off my sister. Everyone else in the diner had halted their conversations as well. Most looked confused, but not a single person was moving. Actual silence was something I was used to, but the visual silence in the room unsettled me deeply.

Not ten seconds had passed before everyone started talking and moving again. I hadn’t realized until then, but my heart was pounding.

Carla was now looking down at her lap. I could tell she was still upset.

“… Are you okay?”

She slowly raised her head looking straight at me. Her frustration with either my question or something else seemed worse than I was expecting.

“Is that what you think, Joe?”

It was my turn to freeze in place. Her stare wasn’t just intense, it was menacing.

“I… I’m confused…”

A couple tables down from us, two teenage guys suddenly stood up yelling at each other. Whatever was said between them quickly devolved into an aggressive fist fight.

The guy closest to us took a vicious hit and immediately crumpled to the floor. He was clearly unconscious, but that didn’t stop the attacker from continuing to throw punch after punch into his already broken face. I looked at Carla in horror, but she hadn’t taken her fierce gaze off of me.

“Joe. Answer me.”

I had never felt this way before, but I was scared of my sister. Her cold stare, her disregard for the brutality behind her, everything about her current state of mind was terrifying.

“Why do you seem mad…”

Out of the corner of my eye, Paul was now arguing with his employee friend. I couldn’t tell what they were saying from that distance, but it only appeared to be getting worse with each passing second.

Suddenly, Paul smashed his drink on the counter. Soda spilled out all over the floor as he pointed what remained of the jagged bottle at his friend. Then, almost as quickly as Paul reacted, the friend pulled out a shotgun from behind the counter. Paul attempted to connect his newly created weapon with the side of his opponent’s neck, but instead took a shotgun blast to the chest. His now lifeless body flew back a good two feet before connecting with the ground; his blood was suddenly all over our table.

I jumped back as far in our booth as I could go. In a matter of thirty seconds, two extreme acts of violence had taken place right in front of me. I started crying heavily as I looked over at Carla. The side of her face was coated in her boyfriend’s blood, but she was still staring at me as intense as ever.

“You better answer me, Joe.”

Behind her, the once picturesque, friendly diner had devolved into an all out brawl. Whatever anyone could get their hands on was thrown or used to bash someone over the head.

Paul’s employee friend must’ve realized he fired off his only shotgun shell, so he instead hopped the counter and started ceaselessly beating a stranger with the butt of his gun.

Whatever was going on, I knew Carla and I could end up severely injured or dead if we didn’t leave to get the police. I put my hand on the table and slid out of the booth as fast as I—

A sharp, debilitating pain shot up my arm. I screamed at a decibel level I swear I could almost hear and fell backward onto the bench clutching my hand. A fork was sticking out of the top of it. Carla got up from her seat and was now looming over me.

“Fucking answer me!”

I continued screaming, both in pain and in absolute fear of my sister. She jumped on top of me and wrapped her hands around my throat.

“Do you have any idea how much I hate taking care of you? Do you even have a fucking clue?”

Nothing I did loosened her grip on me. She was determined to see her aggression through to my end.

“You think your broken ears give you the right to be an asshole all the time? All I ever do is take care of you because mom and dad are too shitty to do it themselves!”

Carla continued to drill me with all of her anger but at that point I had shifted most of my focus from reading her lips to finding my next breath. My vision began to blur as I used every last drop of adrenaline I had left in me fighting her off, but before the battle was lost, I found her weakness.

Without realizing, I had clasped both of my hands around her ears. Her strength slowly began to fade as her eyes rolled back in her skull. I was able to start gasping for air around the same time she collapsed to the floor. Without warning, blood began to pool from her ears in a steady stream.

I lay there for a moment trying to process what just happened and how severe her bleeding was becoming. Most of the chaos in the diner was still focused in other areas and hadn’t migrated towards our booth. I needed to get to a phone to call for an ambulance. Carla was clearly ill and whatever had caused her ears to start—

My mind suddenly made a connection.

With tears still streaming down my face, I got up and rushed for the other side of the diner. Most of those still standing weren’t interested in my sprint as much as the person they were midway through killing.

The small light on the front of the jukebox indicated track number fifteen was still playing. Despite all that had just happened, I realized then that only about three minutes had passed since the start of the massacre.

Whatever was playing through the jukebox speaker started playing the same time the violence began.

I was too petrified of my surroundings to think to pull the cable from the wall, so I instead grabbed the nearest bar stool. The fork was still sticking out of the back of my hand and the pain that came from squeezing the stool was immense; nevertheless, I pushed through.

I ran at the jukebox with all of my remaining strength and speared the stool through the front glass of the machine. The metal leg smashed into the stack of records and broke the mechanism that controlled playback. Everything including the exterior neon lights shut off.

Those still standing immediately froze what they were doing. Weapons and bodies alike dropped to the floor in unison. Much like Carla’s situation, blood spilled out of everyone’s ears adding to the already drenched tile that was the diner floor.

After leaving the diner to frantically call 911, I had no idea what the death toll was. I knew almost everyone that had a chance at being alive was in severe condition, but I was hoping at least Carla would be able to pull through.

I ended up being the only survivor.

The police and EMS workers pronounced everyone dead at the scene. Those who weren’t beaten or shot in the chest lost too much blood hemorrhaging from the ear canal. The medical examiners were understandably baffled for a number of reasons, but something stuck out from the rest.

Their eardrums had not only ruptured, they burst like mini grenades; vital veins near the ear canal broke open as a result causing severe internal bleeding.

I’m the closest thing the police had to a suspect, though that never amounted to much. I was brought in a few times to try and explain what I had seen, but I could never explain why it all happened. Even if I tried to provide my theory, all that would have done is put me in the mental asylum.

I miss Carla dearly; I never forgot the things she said to me. I’d like to think she didn’t actually harbor all of those frustrations, but I have reason to believe the unfortunate alternative.

I returned to the scene of the crime a week later. The owner of the diner answered a lot of questions regarding the deaths, but was understandably puzzled when I showed up asking about the jukebox. He was even more confused when I asked what was assigned to number fifteen.

“Well, it shouldn’t be anything. I changed out the tracks myself.”

He went into the back room of the diner where I assume he had put the remains of the jukebox. He came back a couple of minutes later holding a single record.

“I’ve never seen this one before… I know I didn't put it in the machine.”

I took it from him to inspect it closer. It wasn’t labeled on the top side of it, but flipping it over revealed a piece of masking tape with a few words written on it:

GROUP TEST 023: Aggression – Bendix Diner

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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ultratesterthings · 4 years

Text

Social media fury follows video of dazed woman put out in cold by Baltimore hospital

The man hurried up the Baltimore sidewalk with a camera in his hand as four black-clad hospital security guards walked toward him, then past him. One of them was pushing an empty wheelchair.

“So wait, y’all just going to leave this lady out here with no clothes on?” said Imamu Baraka, referring to a dazed woman wearing only a thin hospital gown whom they had left alone at a bus stop Tuesday night in mid-30s temperatures. Her face appeared bloody, her eyes empty.

It was the latest incident of “patient dumping,” which has sparked outrage around the country — and one that, according to an expert, probably violated a 1986 federal law that mandates hospitals release those in their care into a safe environment.

“This kind of behavior is, I think, both illegal and I’m sure immoral,” said Arthur L. Caplan, founding head of the division of medical ethics at the New York University School of Medicine. “You don’t just throw someone out into the street who is impaired and may have injuries. You try to get them to the best place possible, and that’s not the bench in front of the hospital.”

The phenomenon was pervasive two decades ago, when the law was largely unenforced, Caplan said, but it remains a problem from California to Virginia.

On Tuesday, the woman left outside the University of Maryland Medical Center Midtown Campus could barely walk and seemed unable to speak.

Still filming, Baraka turned and followed the guards back to an entrance.

“That is not okay,” he shouted.

A video posted online Jan. 9, appears to show staff at a Baltimore hospital leaving a woman wearing just a hospital gown at a bus stop. (WUSA9)

“Due to the circumstances of what it was,” one of them said.

“Then you all need to call the police,” replied Baraka, a licensed counselor.

At the doorway, Baraka asked for a supervisor, demanding to know why hospital staffers were leaving her outside.

“She was . . . medically discharged,” one of the guards said, before the camera captured them walking into the hospital, their backs turned.

What Baraka filmed next — the woman, staggering and screaming into a night so cold that the sidewalk remained speckled with salt and bits of unmelted snow — has been viewed more than 1.4 million times on Facebook, triggering a cascade of online fury and an apology from the hospital.

At a news conference Thursday afternoon, the hospital’s chief pledged to investigate what he described as “a failure of basic compassion and empathy.” He said it represented a wrenching departure for a widely respected medical institution — one that has embarked on a major expansion in Prince George’s County and Southern Maryland.

“We firmly believe what occurred Tuesday night does not reflect who we are,” said Mohan Suntha, the hospital’s president and chief executive. “We are trying to understand the points of failure that led to what we witnessed on that video.”

Suntha would not provide details on the personnel involved, saying the review of the woman’s experience from arrival to discharge had just begun. Nor would he speak to her condition or treatment because of patient confidentiality, but he asserted that her care before being led into the cold was adequate and complete.

Suntha, who cited the hospital’s 136-year history of providing indigent care in Baltimore, said the woman’s insurance status or ability to pay played no role in the decision to discharge her.

“I share the community’s shock and anger at what occurred,” he said, although shock and anger haven’t ended patient dumping in the past.

Last year, court records show, a man sued Inova Fairfax Hospital in Virginia for $100 million after alleging that he had been prematurely discharged on a cold winter night — and was subsequently hit by a car.

A Baltimore hospital has opened an investigation into why an incapacitated patient was discharged on a cold night wearing nothing but a hospital gown. A video of the incident was posted on Facebook. (Reuters)

The suit, filed in Fairfax County Circuit Court, alleged that Donald Paul Ryberg came to Inova just after noon on Jan. 29, 2015, a day when temperatures barely edged above freezing.

Ryberg, then a 46-year-old diabetic, had a history of alcohol abuse that had led him to the emergency room before.

The complaint alleges that Ryberg was so weak that he couldn’t stand or walk. When hospital staff discharged him around 7 p.m. — without a diagnosis and over his daughter’s objections — Ryberg was alone and confused, the complaint said, but had been given bus tokens and directions home. He then stumbled into the street, where a car smashed into him.

An Inova spokesman declined to comment.

His daughter, Tabatha Ryberg, said she spent the final years of her high school career caring for her father, who suffered a skull fracture and remained in a coma for weeks after the accident. He continues to have mobility and memory problems, she said, and he lost his job as a laborer at an engineering firm.

“My dad has just lost everything,” she said. “I want to bring some attention to this because this is ridiculous. . . . They didn’t contact us. If they had, we would have had a ride for him. This has ruined so many people’s lives.”

In Washington, Howard University officials launched an investigation in May after someone filmed campus police officers dumping a female patient from the school’s hospital out of a wheelchair and onto the ground near a bus stop.

Last month, in California, a 78-year-old man, disoriented and suffering from arthritis, was discharged from a Sacramento hospital and sent in a taxi to a homeless shelter that had no room for him, the Sacramento Bee reported. A year ago, according to the Las Vegas Review-Journal, former patients at a state-run hospital in Nevada filed a federal lawsuit after they and others were allegedly placed on Greyhound buses and sent out of state.

In the Baltimore case that went viral this week, much remains unknown: Who the woman is, why she was hospitalized, what led staff to discharge her when she appeared to be incoherent, and where she is now.

Baraka has not responded to multiple requests for comment or posted an update on his Facebook page, but he gave a short interview to CBS Baltimore, saying he had just left his office across the street when he came upon the scene and began filming.

The video’s release was just the latest in a string of painful moments for Baltimore, still reeling from the 2015 death of Freddie Gray and the riots that followed. The city endured 343 homicides last year, making it the bloodiest, per capita, in its history.

Last week, amid a stretch of frigid weather, images spread of Baltimore students bundled in coats in unheated schools. One teacher described students shivering and able to see their own breath.

“Things are so broken here, so broken,” said Bronwyn Mayden, a Baltimore native and executive director of Promise Heights, an initiative established by the University of Maryland School of Social Work. “It’s like dominoes — one just knocks down the other. Can it get any worse, y’all?”

The city’s struggles have reached a point where there’s no outrage, she said. Instead, there’s simply acceptance.

“I think,” Mayden concluded, “people are numb in Baltimore.”

Steve Hendrix and Jennifer Jenkins contributed to this report.

This content was originally published here.

0 notes

newstfionline · 6 years

Text

Social media fury follows video of dazed woman put out in cold by Baltimore hospital

By John Woodrow Cox, Theresa Vargas and Justin Wm. Moyer, Washington Post, January 11, 2018

The man hurried up the Baltimore sidewalk with a camera in his hand as four black-clad hospital security guards walked toward him, then past him. One of them was pushing an empty wheelchair.

It was the latest incident of “patient dumping,” which has sparked outrage around the country--and one that, according to an expert, probably violated a 1986 federal law that mandates hospitals release those in their care into a safe environment.

The phenomenon was pervasive two decades ago, when the law was largely unenforced, Caplan said, but it remains a problem from California to Virginia.

On Tuesday, the woman left outside the University of Maryland Medical Center Midtown Campus could barely walk and seemed unable to speak.

Still filming, Baraka turned and followed the guards back to an entrance.

“That is not okay,” he shouted.

“Due to the circumstances of what it was,” one of them said.

“Then you all need to call the police,” replied Baraka, a licensed counselor.

At the doorway, Baraka asked for a supervisor, demanding to know why hospital staffers were leaving her outside.

“She was ... medically discharged,” one of the guards said, before the camera captured them walking into the hospital, their backs turned.

What Baraka filmed next--the woman, staggering and screaming into a night so cold that the sidewalk remained speckled with salt and bits of unmelted snow--has been viewed more than 1.4 million times on Facebook, triggering a cascade of online fury and an apology from the hospital.

At a news conference Thursday afternoon, the hospital’s chief pledged to investigate what he described as “a failure of basic compassion and empathy.” He said it represented a wrenching departure for a widely respected medical institution--one that has embarked on a major expansion in Prince George’s County and Southern Maryland.

“I share the community’s shock and anger at what occurred,” he said, although shock and anger haven’t ended patient dumping in the past.

Last year, court records show, a man sued Inova Fairfax Hospital in Virginia for $100 million after alleging that he had been prematurely discharged on a cold winter night--and was subsequently hit by a car.

The suit, filed in Fairfax County Circuit Court, alleged that Donald Paul Ryberg came to Inova just after noon on Jan. 29, 2015, a day when temperatures barely edged above freezing.

Ryberg, then a 46-year-old diabetic, had a history of alcohol abuse that had led him to the emergency room before.

The complaint alleges that Ryberg was so weak that he couldn’t stand or walk. When hospital staff discharged him around 7 p.m.--without a diagnosis and over his daughter’s objections--Ryberg was alone and confused, the complaint said, but had been given bus tokens and directions home. He then stumbled into the street, where a car smashed into him.

“My dad has just lost everything,” she said. “I want to bring some attention to this because this is ridiculous. ... They didn’t contact us. If they had, we would have had a ride for him. This has ruined so many people’s lives.”

Last week, amid a stretch of frigid weather, images spread of Baltimore students bundled in coats in unheated schools. One teacher described students shivering and able to see their own breath.

“Things are so broken here, so broken,” said Bronwyn Mayden, a Baltimore native and executive director of Promise Heights, an initiative established by the University of Maryland School of Social Work. “It’s like dominoes--one just knocks down the other. Can it get any worse, y’all?”

The city’s struggles have reached a point where there’s no outrage, she said. Instead, there’s simply acceptance.

“I think,” Mayden concluded, “people are numb in Baltimore.”

#Baltimore #Baltimore hospital #patient dumping #Imamu Baraka

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scottadamsblog · 7 years

Text

Are the Hurricanes and Temperature Records Confirmation of Catastrophic Climate Change?

It wasn’t that long ago that climate scientists and their supporters mocked the critics who looked out their window, saw snow in the winter, and declared “global warming” to be a ridiculous hoax.

The climate scientists were right about that. You can’t predict the future by looking at today’s weather, even when the weather is setting records.

Likewise, my latest understanding of climate science (which is always sketchy at best, and certainly in need of updating now) is that we haven’t yet seen the “signal” of climate change in the hurricane data or the weather extremes. But that view is perhaps a year old. Has science updated its opinion to say the two super-hurricanes and our heat extremes are indeed a credible signal of the beginning of a climate catastrophe?

I watch a lot of news, continuously sampling both sides. I haven’t yet seen a climate scientist weigh in on our recent weather extremes. (Perhaps I missed a few?) So I have no idea whether we are seeing something statistically meaningful right now or not.

Let me put this in more stark terms.

If the recent hurricanes and weather extremes are meaningful in terms of climate change, we really, really, really need to know that. THAT is NEWS. In fact, no news is bigger than that news. Even the risk from North Korea is smaller than the risk of total climate catastrophe. So if the current weather extremes are statistically meaningful, and science confirms, why-the-hell isn’t that the lead story everywhere?

On the flip side, if climate scientists do NOT believe our current weather extremes are meaningful in terms of climate predictions, I’d say THAT should be the lead story too, simply because so many people believe they are seeing the beginning of the end times, climate-wise.

So why is the biggest story in the world conspicuously missing from the news? Keep in mind that climate change is still the biggest story even if the hurricanes are NOT telling us something new. The public wants to know how big the threat is. We’re scared!!!

Instead of that news, we get mostly crickets.

But why?

My working hypothesis is that science doesn’t know one way or another whether the current weather extremes are predictive of things to come. And if they are not yet sure, they would say as much. And that would be a problem for news organizations dedicated to reporting climate science risks as real and dire. If you think the world is best served by convincing the public that climate risks are real, your most socially responsible play in this case is to ignore climate scientists at the moment and let the public believe (without the benefit of scientific support, at least right now) that current temperature extremes are a clear sign of climate collapse.

Take this guy, for example. He’s typical of the what I am seeing on Twitter and even from my friends.

[If Tumblr were not broken right now, you would be seeing an image of a tweet that mocks climate critics for thinking the hurricanes are not proof of climate change. But instead you see this boring text because Tumblr won’t accept an image this morning.]

This fine gentleman believes our current hurricanes are indeed a clear signal of climate change. To be perfectly clear, he could be right. But if he is right, it is not because he is well-informed or smart. It would be a coincidence in this case. As far as I know, climate scientists are not onboard with Roger. They might confirm his gut feeling at some point soon, but for now, Roger is doing his own climate science by watching CNN.

So we have an odd situation in which news organizations can report the most “truthful” version of the reality -- according to them -- by NOT reporting the best thinking on the topic. Here I’m assuming the best thinking is that it is too soon to know how important recent weather extremes are to our predictions of climate change. But if that story is reported, viewers will get the wrong idea and conclude that climate change is not such a big deal even though these weather extremes are clearly a big deal.

Conversely, by not putting climate scientists on TV, and avoiding the trap of having them say, “We can’t tell yet,” which would be over-interpreted by skeptics, news organizations might be doing the most ethically defensible thing they could do. If they believe climate change is a big problem, and they want the public to agree, these hurricanes are doing a great job of persuasion without the benefit of science. It’s hard for the public to see what is happening right now as coincidence, or a normal variation in weather. It just doesn’t feel like normal. It feels like the first big signal of climate change to many observers because they have been primed for confirmation bias on that topic.

If you are a producer for CNN, and you believe climate change is an enormous problem that the public needs to understand, you would hesitate to allow any segment on the air that conflicts with that objective. For example, you would not give equal time to climate skeptics. And while all attention is on the hurricanes, you might not want a climate scientist to come on the air and say some version of “We have no idea whether these specific weather extremes mean something. We’ll need more data to know if this is a real trend or a blip.” That message would sound to skeptics like confirmation of their skepticism, even though it isn’t. Not even close. But it would be received that way by skeptics because of confirmation bias. Everyone hears what they want to hear.

So the biggest story in the world is largely ignored by news organizations because -- and here I speculate -- reporting any uncertainty about climate change is not as persuasive as allowing the public to look out the window and generate their own illusions of certainty while also frightened to death.

What would Sam Harris say about the ethics in this situation? Should news organizations lie by omission when they sincerely believe doing so is good for the planet? Or should they put scientists on the air to say “We don’t know yet” and give fuel to the climate skeptics whom they believe are jeopardizing the future of humanity?

I say give us the truth in this case, even if the truth is “We don’t know yet.”

---

You might like my books because hurricanes.

Follow me on Twitter at @ScottAdamsSays. Otherwise you’ll miss all the good stuff.

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misskittydenoire · 7 years

Text

Challenging The Brave

Title: Challenging The Brave Character(s) Featured: Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Pietro Maximoff, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff Words: 1,570 Pairing: Bruce Banner x Reader Genre: Humor Rating: G (General) Author’s Note: Hello my kitties and gentle-cats! I’m back, hooray! Did you guys miss me? So my semester is finally done and now I’m free to work on my stories. Another hooray! I actually got a request after sometime. Technically speaking, requests are close, but I will on occasionally answer some because I’m random that way. So here is the request of 2017! I think. I don’t really remember if I’ve done one for this year. Anonymous asked: Can I Ask for A Bruce Banner x Reader where the reader is extremely calm, like nothing can startle, scare, or make her mad. And because of this Tony and everyone else on the team try to get a reaction, aside from Steve and Bruce, of course. And something goes wrong when Tony tried to scare her and Bruce hulk's out and Hulk gets protective of the reader who has a secretive smile on her face cause they learn she and Bruce have been secretly dating for a while now??? Plz and thank you!! Summary: You’ve always been a calm person. Since a young age, you've been taught that things lose their power if you don't let them take over your emotions. You don't get scared, or get mad so quickly. The team, however, don't believe that someone could be that reserved. They take it upon themselves to see if they can find a weakness. They just didn't expect someone big and green to protect you from their idiocy.

A loud yawn escaped your lips as you awoke from your slumber. You softly groaned, your petite ears picked up the small pops from your bones as you stretched your arms upward. Training always took a toll on you, but what do you expect when you have the bones of an 80 year old? Figuratively speaking, of course. You chuckled inwardly as the thought went through your mind. Suddenly, you felt something brush against your leg. Normally, many would get scared or at least become anxious, but you were different. You had a very high tolerance for things. It would take something of catastrophic proportions in order to get a reaction out of you. You tilted your head in curiosity when you noticed the foreign object move underneath your covers beside you. Your left hand flipped the covers open to reveal one of Tony’s spider contraptions he's been fiddling with lately. You chuckled, and rolled your eyes as you grabbed it and headed towards the kitchen. It wiggled in protest as you attempted to turn it off, succeeding after a few seconds. You spotted the gang setting up for breakfast, and cleared your throat loudly to grab their attention. Banner and Stark were the firsts to notice your presence, your right brow raised at the genius billionaire. He grinned, feigning surprise, “Oh, you found my prototype for Peter. I wondered where it went. It didn't—scare you, did it?” “No, it didn't. I was just waking up when I noticed something weird in my bed. Thought I'd bring it back to you. I may have broken it though,” You smirked in reply, throwing it to him. He caught effortlessly, frowning upon noticing the condition it was in. Its limbs were dangling from their sockets, and its wiring was spilling over an opening on its body. Bruce couldn't help but chuckle at the pout Tony displayed. You sat beside Wanda, a small hint of a smile curled at the edge of her lips as you nudged her shoulder in salutations. You two became close since you both joined the initiative around the same time. She passed you a plate of scrambled eggs to serve yourself a helping when you felt strong, broad arms wrapped around your shoulders, “Good morning, beaut—Ow!” Pietro yelped the moment your fork poked his skin. “What did we say about personal space, Speedy?” “Keep at least 12 inches of space,” The oldest Maximoff stated monotonous as he sat on your right side. You bit into a strip of bacon before you turned to reply, “Good boy.” Steve sat at the head of the table, his cerulean eyes fell upon one of your bruises that peeked through your colored fitted tee. “How are you feeling this morning, Y/N? I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard yesterday.” You smiled, and shook your head in disagreement, “Don’t worry about it, Steve. I can take it.” “It did not anger you, fru—Y/N?” The male Sokovian asked as he narrowed his eyes to capture any hint of a change in mood. You tilted your head in thought, taking a short moment to recall the other day. It wasn't at all frustrating, you reflected. Another forkful of eggs sandwiched between two pieces of pancake went into your mouth before you answered. “Not really. I was more focused on keeping up with Cap that I didn't really feel the need to become upset.” Pietro groaned in annoyance while a few of the male team members sighed in slight frustration. The fact that everyone simultaneously made the same gesture, you wondered what was going on that you've become the main attraction of the day. “Okay, spill it. Why the sudden interest in me and my reactions, guys?” “They have a pool to see how long it takes you to crack,” Natasha responded. “You shouldn't say anything, Romanoff. You're in on it too.” Clint smirked. You gave a half smile and let out a chuckle as you shook your head at their ridiculousness. “Forgive us, lady Y/N but it is rather odd that you do not get angry, frightened, or even startled. I, myself, have never met anyone as tranquil as you,” Thor explained, trying to justify their intrigue. Your e/c shifted from person to person, landing on Steve. “I’m not part of it. I actually find it a great trait, it means that you're the perfect person to count on when the pressure is on.” You then turned, staring intently at Bruce as you waited for an answer. He took off his glasses, and wiped his briefly not paying attention to your gaze. Once Banner felt your e/c eyes on him, he raised his brows, “What? I’m not part of it either if that’s what you’re wondering. I objected to the whole thing.” He placed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose, shrugging at their stupidity. “Everyone has a breaking point, sunshine. Even you,” Stark stated as he crossed his arms and leaned against his chair. You sighed, glancing at Bruce with a soft smile. He rolled his eyes with a crooked frown. You knew that this wasn’t going to be the end of it. And it definitely wasn’t. For two weeks, from Clint to Sam, they have tried to get any reaction from you. Sam tried to scare you with killer clowns, spiders, and even teamed up with Pietro to pretend to be a vampire and tried to bite you. Thor sparred with you and insulted your pride to see if it would anger you, but it was to no avail. However, Clint was the one who took it too far. Clint thought it was a fun idea to take you hiking to show an exclusive spot to see the stars without the interruption of the city lights. “I’m telling you, it’s here somewhere.” Hawkeye grumbled frustratingly. You took a moment to rest your hands on your knees to catch your breath. You probably should’ve not eaten that extra slice of chocolate cake Vision made. You thought it tasted kinda funny. A loud burp crept out of your mouth, followed by a groan. “Ugh, I think that cake is about to rear its ugly head, Barton. How far is this place so I can free this chocolate demon from my stomach.” “Wait right here. I’m gonna go ahead and see anything familiar.” He jogged further ahead, leaving you behind in the setting sun. Nightfall quickly came and the temperature dropped rapidly, bringing a chill to your form and cause tiny goose bumps to form on your arms. “Clint! Come on, man! It’s getting late and I’m freezing. Where are you?” You yelled, your voice echoed to the four winds as minutes turned to an hour. You sneezed and rubbed your s/c arms and chest to keep you warm and prevent a cold from developing. Loud whispers surrounded you, followed by footsteps running behind the dozens of trees around. The whispers grew as did the rapid footsteps and ground crinkling. “Okay, it’s time to quit it, guys. This is getting ridiculous and I’m about to catch pneumonia from your jovial games,” Your voice still calm but the temperature is causing your throat to become sore. A booming, deafening roar shook the branches of the large pine trees before Bruce’s hulk landed next to you. “Uh oh…” You declared softly as the Hulk yelled again and exposed your team behind their hiding spots. Clint rose his hands in surrender, flashing an apologetic smile. Bruce wrapped a protective arm around your body not only to warm you but to signal that this game is done. Tony, who appeared from a hole in a tall red oak tree, furrowed his brows in confusion. “Why is green giant holding you like that, Y/N?” You rubbed the muscular arm soothingly, smiling widely, “That’s because Bruce and I are together. We have been for awhile now.” “What?” The group now materialized, exclaiming altogether. You giggled while the Hulk held you tighter, growling in annoyance. You patted his hand softly as you assured you that everything is alright. His body began to crack and shrink in size. He fell to his knees, and you kneeled down to hold him properly. Bruce wrapped his arms around your waist, his breathing slowing down as he looked up at you with a weary gaze. “Oh, sweetie. You didn’t have to transform into the big guy for me.” “This whole thing was going too far and I wasn’t going to let Clint’s birdbrain idea get you in danger.” He glared at Barton, Wilson, Stark, and the male Maximoff who all bowed their heads in shame. You planted your lips gently on Banner’s. His right hand rested on the back of your neck as he deepened it, pulling back in a flash when he remembered where you two were. “We’re sorry, Y/N. We didn’t mean—” “If you say scare, I’m going to turn back and hurl you to the tower.” Banner threatened Hawkeye who widened his eyes in surprise. “For the record, I wasn’t scared. I was more curious who the other guy was gonna kill first,” You smiled jokingly. After that, everyone gave up on the bet and went back to accepting your strange state of being. That being said, they have still to realize that you do have a dark side. They just haven’t seen it yet.

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