Topher Lydon

The silence of the Zodiac was not a peaceful silence. It was the heavy, suffocating silence of a space designed for a hundred people currently being occupied by ten. It was the silence of a haunted house drifting at warp speed through a completely uncharted, utterly uncaring void. Lieutenant Hollis woke to that silence every single "morning," a strictly conceptual time frame dictated by the ship’s erratic chronometers. He lay in his bunk, staring at the ceiling. The ceiling was beige. Not a

Ninety crew dead. Ten left. All men. The ship's held together with duct tape, the AI keeps suggesting they turn it off and on again, and the captain is a meteorologist who fought a can of ravioli with an axe and lost. They're lost in deep space, eating rat, and absolutely not qualified for this. But they're alive. For now.

WE ALL know what race Peter plays

Bombs, even cyber ones, need to be disarmed before they go off. And this one isn't as simple as cutting the red or green wire.

The Play Station supercomputer was an actual thing, clever budget idea which gave the CIA the ability to assemble Supercomputers based on need. (A couple of years after this point but entirely plausible in 2008) And yes, Yani is numbers and machines. He can't see the people behind the traps. Andrew knows people, their flaws, their cracks, and the shape of their tricks. Now it's Tanaka's turn.

Peter's new Gaming PC. Morning

The interior of the leased campaign bus smelled of stale coffee, diesel exhaust, and the damp, freezing wool of coats piled haphazardly onto the narrow overhead luggage racks. The vehicle was a massive, rolling aluminum tube vibrating relentlessly as it tore down Queensway, leaving the political bubble of Halifax behind and pushing aggressively toward the Quebec border. Outside the tinted, reinforced windows, the October sky was a bruised, slate-grey expanse, spitting a mixture of freezing rain

The sacred Friday Night pact, I think Will looks forward to them. It's his family time and it gives Peter a well earned night off. Besides, Moomins are awesome!

I am sure no one will mind if Will designates some of the rooms in the East Wing for his Nephews... I mean technically the Whole Wing is for Andrew to use. And Will Swears there wasn't a single bulldozer in sight. He also put the Solar Panels back on the roof

It was dangerously close

Deadly combination of Peter's temper, West's intelligence, and a smattering of Harding family resilience. Old Theodore's proud. Especially of the reading one, that's his decedent for sure.

Oh and we all know Peter won the naming the Triplets thing.

I needed to write something fluffy!

The White House, East Wing Residence Friday, 7:42 PM September 2026 --- The President of the United States was on his hands and knees, hunting for a plastic dinosaur. "Mr. President, I really must insist—" "Debbie." Will Carter didn't look up from where he was peering under the Chippendale sofa. "If I don't find Barnaby before Louie realizes he's missing, we're going to have a diplomatic incident of unprecedented proportions. The last time that dinosaur went m

The new Three Musketeers take on the most powerful Uncle in the World... It's a battle of iron wills, desperate stakes, and Moomintrolls. President Carter has his hands full

Well done, I knew it was only a matter of time. Great work, and inspiring. Thank you for what you do.

The boys are safe, they are not free, the can never go home. But it is an exile in paradise for them. They are alive, they are together, and they can live a life that is their own. It was the best that could be achieved in the time. It gave me a good look at Will's Grandfather, and a good idea of where Will got a lot of who he was from. And gave me a way to tie the name Jacob closer into the family.

Lady Miller had that coming to her. Plus Artie and his husband Tommy will make better use out of the pool.

She was a butcher. She wielded police like Gestapo, and the damage that she caused to the United Kingdom is the direct cause of our current woes. Selling off our national services such as Water, Power, rail... at discounted prices to her friends and donors... she looted the nation. And there are those in this country that tout her as a messiah ... I am not a person to wish ill on anyone, but Thatcher... there is blood on her hands and Wales and the Welsh were hit the hardest.

LXXXII. The boardroom of the National Corrections Oversight Committee smelled of beeswax, stale pipe tobacco, and the stagnant, unyielding certainty of men who had never been told they were wrong. It was a cavernous space lined with dark mahogany panelling and the oil portraits of dead Victorian moralists whose painted eyes stared down with perpetual, institutional judgment. At the far end of a polished oak table that looked long enough to land a small aircraft on, sat the Board of Governor

Rebellion inside the Liberal Party, the civil war begins.

Trudeau was the Prime Minister in Carter's Order. Will's surrounded by them.

The freezing, salt-heavy wind howling off the North West Arm of Halifax Harbour possessed a bitter, abrasive quality that felt entirely different from the dry, bureaucratic cold of Ottawa. It was a maritime chill, wet and unyielding, carrying the scent of churning dark water, wet stone, and decaying autumn leaves. For the Honourable William Carter, leaning heavily against the ancient, iron-wrought gates of the University of King’s College, the freezing temperature was not a deterrent. It was an

What sickens me is that there are people out there that know the truth, don't care, and push the lie

I was taken to the Killing Fields in Cambodia... Standing on a mass grave changes a person. I don't care who you are, what you do, or what your beliefs are. Standing looking at human skulls standing several meters off of the ground and realizing that every one of them was a life, a person... some of them their only crime was wearing reading glasses. A third of the entire population of the country. The horrors of places like Dachau, the Killing fields... and other desecrated sites in this world... haunting. I am going to name and SHAME three such places/facilities in the United Kingdom: Aston Hall Hospital: Located in Derbyshire, this psychiatric facility serves as a terrifying real-world equivalent to Cameron's chemical warfare. Under the authority of Dr. Kenneth Milner in the mid-century, children labeled as "behavioral problems" were subjected to "narcoanalysis." They were heavily drugged with sodium amytal and subjected to profound psychological and physical abuse under the guise of therapy. Systemic Abuse: Decades later, extensive investigations revealed horrific physical, emotional, and sexual abuse at many of facilities, such as St. William’s in Yorkshire. The culture of absolute silence and the blind eye turned by government inspectors allowed these atrocities to persist unchecked. Facilities like the Portland Borstal in Dorset were notoriously unforgiving. The environment fostered a brutal, survival-of-the-fittest hierarchy among inmates and staff, closely mirroring the culture encouraged by headmasters like Vane. These are real places, and they put the Fictional Blackwater to shame.