Topher Lydon
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Elena does call Blanchard, but there's still as court order. I think lawyers would agree to comply with the order while it is fought. :: shrugs:: that was my logic at any rate.
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Blanchard gets moving almost immediately. But going to the hospital is a good thing, it removes Caleb from Duclose's care and into a safe space where another professional can examine things. Argueably, it might be the best thing for Caleb at this point.
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As ever, thank you for reading, commenting and liking these. The feedback makes it all worth while. Don't forget to recommend your favourites, look for this button at the end of chapters: https://i.ibb.co/39J54KSn/recommend.png
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Fortunately, and this is a teaser, the head of Psychology isn't incompetent, and she is Riley's Mother. We finally get to Riley very soon. He's hovered in the background, but he gets his turn.
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Too much to lose. If he gets his memory back, breaks her narrative, he will expose her abuse. Narcissists need control to maintain their narrative. Caleb is out and in the world, that threatens her lies, and that threatens her daughter.
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hmmm I didn't notice, but every single suspect has a cracked phone screen. I was trying for symbolism, each one having a secret side.
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Having gone through it, Muchausen via proxy, and a determined mother can and does control the narrative. I was never permitted to be alone with the doctors, ever. I was scripted on what I was to say, and she would frame things before I was asked any questions. Any complaint was shut down, embarrassment and gaslighting. It... was difficult for an over worked doctor who had a narrative fed to them. I think House said it best, "if you're a virologist, it's a virus. If your an oncologist, it's cancer. Your own biases affect the diagnosis."
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Mother knows best
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SUNDAY MORNING Billy woke up on the couch. His back hurt. His neck hurt. His shoulder was pressed against the armrest at an angle that would probably require physical therapy if he ever had health insurance. But he'd slept worse. He'd slept on the floor of the locker room after games, on the bench at the bus station when he missed the last ride home, in his car during the worst fights with his dad. The couch was fine. The house was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that meant
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We all know Ashot was about sneaking out of the infirmary and making bets and fleecing everyone in the stands... Stephen chasing after him with a saucepan, threatening him until he got back to bed! Rico enjoying every moment of World War Baba
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I really enjoy their friendship. It's those kind of boys that are always pouncing on each other and trying to wrestle, while hurling insults, and then getting up afterwards wrapping arms around each other and heading off to find more trouble to get into.
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I'm having one of those mornings where I feel like I've been hit by a truck. But enjoyed writing this chapter... Atty putting all that work to good use. Besides, he and Richard needed to settle which of them is on top :: chuckles ::
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teribbloe night's sleep last night, I am still waking up... coffgee is in hand... sooon
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Good morning
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The herald's trumpet was not a single, clean note. It was a raw, ripping blast of sound that tore through the morning air like a blade through silk, a sound that had been used for centuries to announce the beginning of something bloody and glorious. The silver instrument gleamed in the pale Vexin sun, and the man holding it had lungs like a blacksmith's bellows. "Hear ye! Hear ye!" the herald bellowed, his voice carrying over the roaring, seething mass of ten thousand spectators packed int
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I was also rather proud of the Princess Cecily commentary about who was winning and how. If there were any justice in France's laws of succession, She'd be the future queen, and Cas would be free to be himself. She is eminently suited for it, clever, just and politically savvy. Cas is sweet, and charming, but the crown and throne will eat him alive. Wylan was right about crowns: they never help, they never did
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Paper existed, but it was an import, and not really used for books or manuscripts yet. From my research it was a bit of a Middle Eastern luxury used for this kind of purpose, gift wrappings and containers and the like. All of it imported. It was stated that Julian was splashing silver around, I thought it a good touch to show the exotic nature of the luxury. Also it's established that honeyed almonds were Atreus's favourite, and that Cas knew this and would get some for him brought up from Paris in an earlier chapter
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Chapter Eight: The Kitchen Table
Topher Lydon commented on Topher Lydon's story chapter in Chapter Eight: The Kitchen Table
Grey Harbour's reality -
SATURDAY The kitchen smelled like coffee and cigarettes and the ghost of last night's meatloaf. Caleb sat at the table with his hands wrapped around a chipped mug. The coffee was black and bitter and too hot, but he drank it anyway because Elena had put it in front of him and he didn't know how to say no to her. She was in the living room now, talking to someone on the phone—her voice low and sharp, the cigarette smoke curling through the doorway like a living thing. He couldn't hear
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Wearing the Vanguard colours as well. Lothar is seething.
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Darien's a big old softie
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Good Morning
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The Vexin had never seen anything like it. For centuries, the borderlands had been a place of blood, mud, and quiet, desperate survival. But on the first morning of the Royal Tourney, the meadow stretching out beyond the lower palisades of The Boar's Rest had been entirely, violently transformed into a staggering, deafening masterpiece of high feudal pageantry. Julian, Comte de l'Avant-garde, had treated the logistics of the festival with the exact same ruthless, calculating precision he ap
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when I edit the chapter in here, there's a drop down button, and it has two options. Publish and Edit. I was tired, stopped thinking and hit the wrong one, then just flowed through the confirm option... definately my fault, I was a dumbass and not caffinated this late at night... I am up way past my bed time... this chapter was tough on me.
