Topher Lydon
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Madam Woo/Sinjin is Tetsujin, and as such she probably understands Hugo very well. And of all the places to wash up, there is probably the luckiest place for him to be. The Master of an Aggregate in Buddhist teachings, must not become a slave to it. ( I am not a Buddhist by any means, merely spent a lot of time at their temples, I met a 100 year old Monk in one who had some very interesting thoughts on the ideas behind the book and was very much the template for Sinjin. His concepts on gender being an illusion, on love being a universal truth, and knowledge being a tool to understanding and not the end goal of life... well you can see his influence) Time to learn.
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Washington D.C. – November 25th 1993 The air in the sterile room was a stark contrast to the chaotic vibrancy of the Tides of Time lounge. It was cool, institutional gray, smelling faintly of disinfectant. The only furniture was a simple metal table bolted to the floor and two chairs. Stoker sat in one of the chairs, his hands cuffed in front of him, the cold steel a constant, jarring presence against his bruised knuckles. He was a picture of defiance, his
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I believe that Henry's response to that was "Yeah not happening kid."
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Thank you, the more I tried to hide from it... the more dishonest it became. So tackling it head on was the only way to get through it. This whole project is more for my head than anything else... Wil calls it my Mid-life Crisis project, but then he can be a loveable ass sometimes.
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This is my second time writing this, dear reader. I am taking it back to a blank page and starting over. Story of Jimmy’s life, as you are all aware: blank pages and starting over. My first time writing this chapter I lost my authentic voice, I wandered, and things became a caricature. It became dishonest. And I couldn’t sleep. Older, much older Jimmy was on a train yesterday. Some of you know that I was in a train accident some years ago that turned my life over and left me in a whe
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"I ain't fuckin' bait," Stoker, 1953.
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This is Paradox Lost, every chapter, every word, beautifully summed up. Doc you have a singular way of seeing right to the heart of a story.
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Dottie makes one crucial mistake. One week is not enough time.
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It takes time to get past trauma. I didn't know how badly I was suffering back then, but some people took a broken boy and used a little glue on his soul. I am not saying I haven't broken since, but I've tried my best.
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Henry is a good egg. A damn good, salt of the earth soul. He isn't about to let Hugo drown.
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Washington D.C. – November 25th 1993 The air was a still, humid blanket of late November chill, thick with the scent of damp earth and the crisp rustle of fallen leaves. The only silence was a suburban quietude, punctuated by the rhythmic clang of a distant trash truck and the faint, tinny music from a neighbor’s radio. The house stood nestled back from the road, a nice little Craftsman-style home shaded by the broad, spreading canopies of tall oak trees.
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Nope not telling on that one, nope can’t make me
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You sir are my spirit animal
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Actually we know Stoker claimed his own. The spare Hugo was carrying. So we know that someone can carry more than one. And that… under certain circumstances they can be claimed
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My lore is it depends on how it is obtained. There is a couple of ways to give up a watch. And Madam Woo might know
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Man Dottie has no idea what’s about to hit her.
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Rikard is one of those characters that just snarks across a page. He makes bitch an art form lol
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We’re shaped by who we meet, and we shape others in turn. Kind words and gestures make us who we are.
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Jimmy quite enjoyed being kissed by someone who actually felt something in the kiss. Kisses without anything behind them were pointless, they did nothing for him. But a kiss with genuine and earnest feeling behind them was almost better than sex. His toes curled, and his world went pop. It was his favourite thing to do, and Hugo bloody knew it. It didn’t hurt that Hugo wasn’t bloody shy about it either. Finding quiet corners around Ottawa to slip into dragging the lamely protesting Jimmy to
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Thomas is a favourite of mine, so be prepared. I love a good Monster.
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Thomas is where this whole story began, many years ago. Even before Hugo, he was the first character of this story, and the idea that started things into some kind of motion. I enjoy writing him, he's got some of that Rikard energy about him that (excuse the self confidence) I write so well. Here is a peek:
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lol, Hugo on the left, Stoker is on the right. I think they're both a bit Twinkish. But Stoker is more muscular of the two, so probably into the edge of Twunk ish ness... if that's a thing
