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Scotland sets renewable energy record as wind power provides equivalent of 118% of nation's electricity
In the first six months of 2017 enough power was generated to supply more than all of Scotland's national demand for six days.

Wind power output in Scotland has helped set a new record for the first half of the year, according to an independent conservation group.

Analysis by WWF Scotland of data provided by WeatherEnergy found wind turbines provided around 1,039,001MWh of electricity to the National Grid during June.

Renewable energy figures show the power generated last month was enough to supply the electrical needs equivalent to 118 per cent of Scottish households or nearly three million homes.

In the first six months of 2017 enough power was generated to supply more than all of Scotland’s national demand for six days.

Turbines provided 6,634,585MWh of electricity to the National Grid, which analysts say could on average supply the electrical needs of 124 per cent of Scottish households, or more than three million homes.

Dr Sam Gardner, acting director of WWF Scotland, said: “The first six months of 2017 have certainly been incredible for renewables, with wind turbines alone helping to ensure millions of tonnes of climate-damaging carbon emissions were avoided.

“Scotland is continuing to break records on renewable electricity, attracting investment, creating jobs and tackling climate change.

“If we want to reap the same rewards in the transport and heating sectors, we need the Scottish government to put in place strong policies on energy efficiency and transport in the forthcoming Climate Change Bill.

“That’s why we’re calling on people to act for our future and tell the First Minister they want a strong climate bill that will deliver a fairer and healthier low carbon Scotland.”

The figures for January to June this year showed an increase of 24 per cent compared to 2015, when wind energy provided 5,359,995MWh.

Scotland’s total electricity consumption including homes, business and industry for first six months was 11,689,385MWh.

Renewables experts say this means wind generated the equivalent of 57 per cent of Scotland’s entire electricity needs.

Karen Robinson, of WeatherEnergy, said: “It’s great to see this data confirm that Scotland is knocking it out of the park on wind power with total output for June in particular up on the same period compared to the past two years.

“There’s no doubt renewables are helping households increasingly avoid fossil fuels for their electricity needs.”

Scotland’s energy minister Paul Wheelhouse said: “It’s great to hear renewable electricity generation in Scotland has reached a new record high. In the first quarter of this year, generation was up by 13 per cent compared to the same period last year, there was also a 16 per cent increase in capacity, and more than half of all gross electricity consumption in Scotland continues to come from renewables.”

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anonymous asked:

There were scientists and doctors throughout the years who were tasked with working the Winter Soldier: their poking, slicing, and stabbing would be accompanied by no anesthesia, just droning lies from mouthless faces: "This won't hurt". Nowadays whenever he hears those words, Bucky flies off the handle.

“This is ridiculous,” Bucky griped, staring resolutely at the ceiling.  Wilson made a noncommittal hum.  He’d stopped giving real responses after the fifth time Bucky had voiced his grievances with his…situation.

“I’m injured.  Not incompetent.”  Sure, his right arm was pretty mangled, but his other arm was still in decent shape.  Just a bit on the glitchy side.

“Uh huh.”  The asshole didn’t even look up from his TIME magazine.

He sat up a bit, then slammed his metal fist onto the tray.  It was a bit sturdier than typical hospital equipment, only denting slightly; not as satisfying as he’d hoped.  

Wilson finally looked up and leveled a cool, even stare at him.  “You’ve been unconscious for four days, your fleshy arm looks like it’s been through a sausage grinder, and you’ve somehow still managed to almost kill at least two doctors and scared the living shit out of three nurses.  Do you know how hard it is to scare nurses?”  Bucky looked away at that.  He only vaguely remembered the incident itself but he’d seen the security footage.  It was a wonder Steve managed to talk SHIELD out of a more…efficient solution.

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Penny Michaels

(Author unknown)

My name is Penny Michaels and I live with my aunt outside of Chicago. My life seemed to be pretty normal for a person who lost her parents at a very young age. I don’t really remember them very well and no one has really explained to me what happened to them. I’ve been dating a guy named Jim for the last several months and it seemed our relationship was starting to get serious. I was hoping he would pop the question soon and turn me into a bride.
This all changed rather suddenly when he asked me to fool around in rubber. Although I thought this a bit strange I agreed after all what could possibly happen. One night after my aunt had gone to bingo Jim came over carrying a small black bag. We sat on the couch and he removed a pair of brown surgeon’s gloves from the bag. I immediately felt tremendous anxiety at the sight of the gloves. As he put them on I moved down the couch to the other end, and asked him not to touch me with them. He said it was no big deal they were only rubber gloves and they made him feel real sexy. Reluctantly I let him come closer. I could smell the rubber as he caressed my face with the gloved hands. He reached into the bag and quickly came out with a black rubber anesthesia mask and put it over my nose and mouth. I don’t know what happened, I just started screaming and couldn’t stop. Jim removed the mask and gloves and tried to sooth me, but I was having none of it. I told him I never wanted to see him again and asked him to leave. He got up and walked out of my life and I never saw him again. After that night the dreams started, the same one over and over.

I was always young and some man tells me I have to have an operation. They then place cloth over my hair and tell me they are going to put me to sl**p. They then place a rubber mask that smells sweet over my face and ask me to take deep breaths.

I wake up at that point screaming. I have no idea what the dream means, but it started when Jim put that anesthesia mask on my face. I try to keep this to myself but eventually my aunt becomes concerned and makes an appointment with a psychiatrist. I tell the psychiatrist about my dream and how it’s upsetting my life. He requests that I submit to an experiment so that he can better understand my problem. I tell him I will submit to anything in order to get my life back.
With that he calls in his nurse and tells me he’s going to give me an injection and I need to lie down. The nurse places some vials on the night stand. The doctor prepares the injection. The needle is placed in my arm and the doctor depresses the plunger. A warm sensation spreads through my body as I lose consciousness. The doctor and the nurse then pick me up and place me on a stretcher. They place a white cloth cap over my hair and allow me to wake up. When I gain consciousness I immediately become hysterical. The doctor encouraged me to tell him what I was feeling. I then relate my past with the horrible Dr. Scholfield.

I remember being wheeled down a hall and having these nurses dressed in white looking at me. They kept reassuring me that everything was going to be all right. I was brought into the operating room and placed on the table. I always remember how bright the overhead light was that shined on me. They started to lower a brown rubber mask towards my face telling me that they needed to strap it over my nose and mouth. I could hear the hissing of the oxygen and nitrous oxide as the mask came closer to my face. I struggled against the mask, but they held it in place and used black rubber straps to keep it firmly secured to my face. They then told me to relax and breath normally. I tried to hold my breath but eventually I had to take gasping breaths. I felt my self starting to drift and my breathing became slowly more regular. I could hear the rubber bellows that contained the sl**ping mixture cycling with each breath. I could see Dr. Scholfield with his brown rubber surgeons gloves making a fuss about the mask fitting right and making sure it was secured tightly. Eventually the anesthetic gases take effect and I feel myself going under. I wake up hours later and for day after day the process is repeated. I’m given anesthesia so often that I look forward to it. Before long I’m actually helping them to ensure that the mask is placed on my face correctly as they strap the rubber mask to my face and ask them to put me out slowly.

The psychiatrist allows me to wake up and tells me that I had really very little to say and he recommends a private session at his house in an attempt to further try and obtain more information. I ask him the purpose of going to his house and he just asks if I want to get better or go on like I am. I agree and he states he will have his nurse call me to make further arrangements. I gather my belongings and leave the building. The psychiatrist turns to his nurse and tells her to call his uncle Dr. Scolfield and inform him he has found Penny and he is going to bring her by for a little anesthesia party.

Over the next several weeks Penny’s nightmares increased. It was always the same dream of having a black rubber mask f***ed onto her face and losing consciousness. She had reached her breaking point when the psychiatrist called to find out how she was doing. She told him she was afraid to sl**p and felt exhausted and just didn’t know what to do. He told her there was a clinic in upstate New York where if she was willing to spend the next several weeks could probably put an end to her nightmares. The only condition to stay at the clinic was that she could tell no one her destination. Penny feeilng uncomfortable asked why. The psychiatrist told her that it was a private clinic that was frequented by celebrities and they wanted no publicity. Penny thought it was odd but agreed in order to get some peace back into her life.

The following week Penny boarded a plane which took her to Albany airport and from there was e****ted to a hanger and was directed to a lounge to wait for a private plane to take her to her final destination. While she waited a man came in and introduced himself as Dr. Gardner and told her he was returning to the clinic after a vacation. Penny asked lots of questions about the clinic and Dr. Gardner did his best to answer them. Pennt told him she was nervous about flying in a small plane and the good doctor asked if she wanted a drink before they left to calm her nerves. Dr. Gardner went over to a small bar in the lounge and began to prepare the drinks. What Penny failed to see was the slipping of the chloral hydrate into her drink. Penny accepted the drink and drank it oer the next ten minutes as she continued to converse with Dr. Gardner, Penny began to show the signs of the sedation she was given.Her speech began to slur and she said she felt warm all over. Her eyes began to get heavy and she beagn to struggle to stay awake. She suddenly realised what was happening to her and she tried to stand up, but she had no legs under her and she slumped to the floor. The doctor checked her pulse and carried her into the waiting plane to be transported to Dr. Scholfield’s private clinic.

Penny regained consciousness as the wheels of the plane thumped down onto the private air strip. She demanded to know that the pilot gave an explanation, he told her that he was just the pilot and knew nothing other than he was to transport her here. As the plane came to a halt Penny noticed a car waiting and two men standing beside it. The men had to literally drag Penny off the plane as she screamed and fought a losing battle. After being bundled into the car one of the men sat in the back to keep an eye on Penny who was still struggling and the other man got into the front behind the wheel and started the car engine, it pulled away and drove away from the air strip. After a short drive the car was driven through some gates and entered a large compound. As the car pulled up the main house, a man dressed in white brought a wheelchair to the car. Penny was dragged from the car and placed into the wheelchair and her arms and legs restrained. Feeling completely hysterical at this point Penny stopped struggling and begged to be taken home. The men ignored her. She was pushed up a ramp to the main doors of the mansion. To the right of the doors was a plaque which said
“Scholfield Anesthesia Research Institute”. When Penny saw the sign she felt as if she had stepped into a dreamworld of horror. In her mind she tried to rationlise that this could not be happening, but her senses told that it in fact it was.

Penny was wheeled through the large doors to a reception desk behind which a nurse was stationed. One of the men announced that Penny Michaels was here to see Dr. Scholfield. The nurse picked up a telephone and informed the party at the other end that Penny had arrived. After a short conversation the nurse hung up the phone and told Penny that the doctor had ordered a mild sedative for her. Penny once again Penny began to struggle against the restraints and begged the nurse to let her go. The nurse paid no attention and retrieved a syringe and vial from a cabinet. She withdrew some clear fluid from the vial and instructed on of the men to hold Penny’s arm still. The nurse cleaned off the injection site with an alcohol wipe and then plunged the needle into Penny’s deltoid muscle. She slowly injected the contents and after removing the needle from the muscle, once again cleaned the area with another alcohol wipe. Within minutes Penny felt the anxiety beginning to leave her body. She knew she should be frightened but just felt relaxed and warm all over.

Penny heard a door open down the hall. The sound of footsteps on ceramic tile echoed throughout the reception area. Suddenly her nightmares became reality as Dr. Scholfield stood in front of her. He was dressed in green surgical scrubs and was still wearing tight fitting brown rubber surgical gloves. He smiled at Penny and stroked her hair with his gloved hands. Penny felt repulsed, but by now the sedative she had been given had kicked into high gear. Dr. Scholfield explained to her that because of her contribution to the development of Penthrane she had enabled him to open this institute for anesthesia research. The doctor felt it was only right that Penny be given a tour before being anesthetised in a new experiment he was conducting.

Dr. Scholfield pushed Penny’s wheelchair down the hall. He stopped at the first door on the right and opened it. Inside were all kinds of large gas cylinders, some were green, other were blue, orange and red. The doctor explained that this was one of the gas storage areas for the institute. Further down the hall the doctor opened a door and there was a nurse holding a black rubber mask over the face of a teenage girl who had been restrained and wrapped into a rubber blanket. Dr. Scholfield explained that the nurse was administering nitrous oxide and oxygen prior to the patient being moved into an operating room for deep anesthesia. In another bed was a woman with a green rubber anesthesia mask strapped tightly to her face. She was obviously deeply sedated. The doctor explained that the woman was a long time resident who was given herself the sedation by squeezing the rubber ball attached to the anesthesia machine. The doctor then pointed to an empty bed and told Penny the bed was reserved for her. Penny though sedated tried to get up from the wheelchair. The doctor told her to stop or he would need to sedate her further, she stopped struggling. Dr. Scholfield continued to push Penny down the hall.

The next set of doors was labeled the post anesthesia unit. The doctor opened the door and pushed Penny to the bedside of a woman who was wearing a tightly strapped rubber oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. He explained that the woman was recovering from being under deep gas anesthesia for 72 hours. In the next bed was a woman who was struggling with an attendant. The doctor told Penny that she had been under deep gas anesthesia also but with a different sort of anesthetic, and the side effects often caused halucinations, even though she remained u*********s. Penny asked the doctor where these people came from and why would they allow this to be done to them. The doctor told her that they were people who were down on their luck or homeless, just like her f****y. No one would ever miss them. With that he wheeled her to the bedside of a little girl. She had a catheter going into her nose which was hooked up to a large cylinder of oxygen. The doctor pointed to a glass container which had a clear liquid inside and said that it was a new anesthetic mixture and they were about to put her out. In the next bed was a girl of a similar age who was just coming out of the experimental anesthesia. Penny feeling repulsed tried to spit at the doctor but her mouth was so dry and she was still feeling the effects of the sedation that nothing came out. The doctor laughed at her feeble efforts and continued to push the wheelchair down the hall.

The next set of doors they came to announced on a sign that they were entering the dental anesthesia section. As the doctor pushed her through the doors there was a heavy odor of rubber. The first stop was a woman who was sitting in a dental chair with a man holding a silver and black rubber anesthesia mask tightly over her face. She laid helpless while the attendant adjusted the gas mixture from the anesthesia machine. In the next chair was a person struggling with a nurse who was trying to spray a liquid onto a gauze covered mask that was being clamped firmly over his nose and mouth. Penny was then wheeled over close to a dental chair where a couple of attendants were struggling with a male patient who was objecting to black rubber anesthesia mask being held tightly over his face. One of the attendants had succeeded in grabbing the patients arms and legs whilst the other kept the rubber mask held tightly over the struggling patients face. Eventually the strong gas mixture being administered through the rubber mask slowly began to render the patient u*********s and as soon as he was asl**p they would change the gas mixture to just oxygen and allow him to become fully awake, as soon as he was they would start again. Penny was then wheeled over to a woman who was apparantly sedated as Penny was and restrained in the dental chair. She looked up at Penny and told her to run from the black mask and never stop. Dr. Scholfield laughed an insane laugh and ordered her to be put under. A nurse and attendant rushed over a gas anesthetic machine to the side of the chair. The nurse picked up the black rubber mask with it’s twin set of hosing from the machine and set a high gas flow, she nurse then clamped the rubber mask over the face of the woman whilst the attendant tried to stop the woman struggling so much, after a few minutes the woman’s struggling slowed and the nurse then strapped the rubber mask tightly in place. The black rubber breathing bag was now opening and closing in a regular pattern as the anesthesia began to take hold and the doctor told the attendant that it was mo longer necessary for the restraints to be used and they were removed. Penny was then wheeled over to a dental chair where a man had just been put under using a rubber nasal mask. After several minutes a doctor began to inject through an intravenous line a clear fluid. Dr. Scholfield explained that though they usually experimented with the gas anesthetics they had recently begun to trial intravenous d**gs as well. The last dental chair was occupied by a young lady who was about to be intubated and tested with a new inhalation anesthetic, the same anesthetic Dr. Scholfield told Penny that she would very soon be breathing herself.

Penny seemed to find the strength to fight like a tiger. She struggled against the restraining straps that confined her to the wheelchair.Although she put up a valiant effort she soon wore herself out and the doctor ordered a nurse that Penny was to be put under. The nurse pushed over to the side of the wheelchair an anesthetic gas machine. Penny could clearly see the gas cylinders, the black rubber breathing bag and the two lenghs of thick rubber hosing with the black rubber mask at the other end. The nurse quickly turned on the gas and picked up the rubber mask and brought it up closer to Penny’s face. Penny could hear the hissing of the gas coming from the mask and at the same time could smell the over-powering odor of rubber and the anesthetic gas. The rubber mask was quickly clamped over Penny’s face and strapped tightly in place. Penny tried to struggle free but quickly realised that it was pointless and accepted her fate. The last thing Penny remembered was the odor of the rubber and anesthetic gas being obscured by something very strong and pungent.

My (Illustrated) Misophonia Story

I was in the fifth grade when I started to develop misophonia, and it quite quickly became the most difficult thing I’d ever experienced. I remember by first trigger very well. There was a boy who sat next to me in class named Chris and I despised him, he was always saying perverted things and swearing openly and he was just downright annoying. He was eating a bagel with strawberry cream cheese and he was smacking it really loudly, and it just bothered me in a way that it hadn’t bothered me before. I remember another occasion when he was eating marshmallow popcorn, and that bothered me even more.

After that, lots of other noises started disturbing me at a much greater frequency. I remember clearly having to move my cereal into the dining room when everyone was eating at the kitchen table and bringing the Sunday comics with me while I could hear my parents laughing at the fact I had to relocate myself. There was another time at my eleventh birthday party when my friends and I were eating chips and watching a movie, and I asked an overweight friend to stop eating so loudly (which my mother recalled as very embarrassing, because I probably really hurt the girl’s feelings, but didn’t even think about it).

I once had to get up in class and ask a boy to stop blowing air through the cap of a ballpoint pen because the noise was bothering me, which I recall as humiliating, since I was the weird kid in class.

I didn’t find misophonia to be that crippling throughout middle school, except for when popcorn was handed out to everybody, and when people had gum, and when people had chips around me. And then there a couple times when I had to take a test at school and people’s sniffling and coughing would bother me.

High school was when misophonia really became a problem, because kids were allowed to chew gum and eat during class; whereas during middle school, they weren’t. It became exceedingly difficult for me to sit through classes where people were chewing and popping gum, and eating openly.

I perfected the art of glaring.

I didn’t know what was wrong with me, and it was really hard because I didn’t know why people’s noises bothered me so much and why I was so different. There was a girl in my freshman English class who always popped her gum, and I’ve never forgotten her name because she made me so angry. 

One night at dinner when my mom had baked some french fries and my family was crunching on them, I had to ask to be excused because I couldn’t stand the noise. As I went up to my room, I heard my dad ask why I was leaving the table, and my mom answered frustratedly, “She can’t stand the sounds.”

I Googled “I can’t stand the sound of people eating”, and oh my gosh, what I had was a thing. Like, a legitimate thing. What came up was a page on “selective sound sensitivity syndrome” or “4S”, of which the symptoms 100% matched what I experienced on a daily basis. 

I told my parents, who were skeptical at first, but after they read what I had read, they gradually accepted the information set before them because it was the only thing that explained my strange behaviors. 

Before I even had an official diagnosis, I emailed my teachers and asked them if it would be okay for me to listen to music in class. 

A few of them said it was fine, and the others were understanding in different ways. All allowed me to take tests in the hallways, and it was great. But even with these accommodations, school was still a nightmare to endure. As the year progressed, my depression grew, and I eventually became suicidal.

I was able to finish the year, and I told my mom I didn’t think I’d make it all the way through public high school without me killing myself. She agreed to send me to a homeschool high school that met two days a week and didn’t allow kids to chew gum or eat food in class. 

This worked well until I became more sensitive to softer noises. Then we found an audiologist during my sophomore year named Dr. Gardner at the Hearing Rehab Center who gave me some hearing aids that were supposed to calm my brain down by making wind chime noises. 

When those stopped working after a year, he sent me away, saying there was nothing else he could do for me. It was very discouraging. 

I was severely depressed again for a long period of time during my junior year of high school, and life was really hard with misophonia. But my mother wouldn’t give up. With her help, I was able to get on anti-anxiety medication that also worked for about a year, and then stopped working. 

My senior year of high school, we found a new audiologist named Dr. Patty Kalmbach, who is located in Denver with Colorado Tinnitus and Hearing. With her help, I was given a pair of hearing aids that covered up about half the noises with white noise. To this day, they work well, and I can eat dinner with my family and sometimes go to public events.

Sadly, also that year, I had an abusive boyfriend who helped me into a severely depressed state that left me suicidal in mental hospital at the end, and even though it had nothing to do with my misophonia, it significantly altered my mental state.

After my release from the hospital, I started college at CU Denver, where I found it difficult to concentrate in classes because of misophonia. I got a note from Dr. Patty, and with it, was able to use section 504 from the Colorado Department of Education to attain special accommodations. The disabilities office is a magical place, they even know me by name. 

My school allowed me to take tests in a room by myself, have a note-taker in class, leave or skip class without being marked as absent, and have preferential seating in the back row. 

Upon returning to school my sophomore year, my visual triggers had started getting worse. Just seeing someone with gum in front of me was enough to make me crazy. 

I was also becoming all the more sensitive to noises that did not bother me before, and noises that I could barely hear became my biggest problems. Because of this, my hearing aids weren’t able to cover the noises that I’d needed them to before. It was becoming so difficult the first few weeks that I even started thinking of dropping out. 

But then someone magical in the disabilities office thought of this idea of using an FM system. It’s basically comprised of a microphone that the teacher wears, and a reciever that I plug earbuds into.

Since the first day, they dramatically changed the way I can now do school. I don’t have to sit in the back row anymore, so by sitting in the front row, I can eliminate my potential visual triggers by about 95%. I can literally sit in class like a normal person and listen to the teacher like normal people do. How long had it been since I’d been able to do that? I’m no longer thinking of dropping out, but I have optimistic goals to become a child and misophonia therapist. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get a PhD. 

I’m only a junior, so we’ll see how that pans out. 

I wanted to share my story because I think our personal stories of how we came to be who we are in our disability are important. I certainly feel like a large part of my identity is tied into being disabled, and I’m learning to be okay with that. It’s who I am. I’m Steph, and I have misophonia, but I’m going to conquer the world anyway. I have no doubt that you can too!

Stay brave out there and never give up hope. 


BLM Celebrates Its “Heritage Heroes”

Earlier this year, the BLM celebrated the winners of the “Heritage Heroes Awards”. Individuals and groups comprised of BLM employees, BLM volunteers, or project partners were nominated for their significant support of the cultural heritage, history, paleontological resources, tribal consultation, or museum collections programs.  Below we share the work of these remarkable individuals as a teaser for the announcement of the newest winners of the Awards, which we will be featuring each month.  Congratulations to all the Heritage Heroes Award winners!

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Mirror’s Gaze Part 13

 Previously on Mirror’s Gaze


Arthur was right, none of them were listening. Resigned, he followed behind them, Scooby by his side. They made their way to the stage, the direction everyone was fleeing from. There was still small bits of debris falling from the ceiling, where the Professor had disappeared with the Robot

“Professor Mansfield!” Dr. Gardner ran on the stage, getting there slightly before the gang. “No no no! This can’t be happening.” She stared at the hole in the ceiling in dismay.

“Jeepers, I hope Professor Mansfield is okay,” Daphne fretted as she looked through the hole torn through the roof - including steel beams.

“Hmm,” Velma seemed very interested in something she found on the floor. She reached down and quickly took a sample. It was just in time, too.

“Okay, all of you, clear out.” Mr. Jorkin stomped onto the stage. “This is a crime scene, now. Authorized Personnel only!”

“Authorized by who?” Dr Gardener snapped. “You’re campus security. You don’t have any authority in a criminal case.”

“And you don’t have any authority at all.” Jorkin smirked. “You’re just Mansfield’s pet, and with him gone, you’re nothing.”

As Dr. Gardener looked like she was ready to explode, Mystery Inc. beat a hasty retreat off the stage.


“We need to learn more about Professor Mansfield and who might want to hurt him.” Fred declared once they were out of the way of the argument. “Let’s split up.”

Only Scooby noticed how Arthur twitched.

“I found some residue, I think it was from the Robot’s jet pack,” Velma announced. “I want to run a chemical analysis on it to see what it’s made from.”

“Sounds good. Shaggy, you and-”


Fred stopped short.

“I’m Arthur, remember?” the mechanic reminded him.

“Oh, right…” Freddy looked uncomfortable as his train of thought completely derailed.

“I got a pretty good look at the Robot. I can check with some contacts of mine, see if the design is copyrighted. If you don’t mind, I’d like Scooby to go with me.”

“No, I was going to suggest Scooby go with you.” He always did. But this wasn’t Shaggy. This was a complete unknown.

“Okay, then.” Arthur looked confused by that, but let it go. He took off to do his research.

“Freddy?” Daphne asked, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Oh! That leaves you and me. I think we should look into Mansfield’s past. See if we can find anything that might provide a clue.”

Daphne sighed. “It’s okay for you to miss Shaggy.” she reassured.

“I’m that obvious, huh?’ he wilted, “We’ve just done this so long, we have a rhythm. And now it’s all messed up. Don’t get me wrong, Arthur’s a great guy, but he’s not…Shaggy.”

“I know,” Velma agreed. “I love having someone I can talk to about science, but it feels like something’s been missing ever since Shaggy and Arthur switched.”

“Just remember, this isn’t permanent.” Daphne reminded them. “We’ll see Shaggy in another week at the latest. Then everything will go back to normal.” She hoped. She really really hoped.

“Will it?” Fred asked. “We still don’t know how to switch them back.”

“We’ll think of something. And even if we don’t…I think we all know it’s not the body that matters. Shaggy’s going home with us, no matter what body he’s in.” Daphne stated firmly.

“That’s fine for you to say Daph, but neither of bodies in question are yours.” Velma pointed out. “I can’t imagine Shaggy or Arthur being okay with leaving their bodies behind. Not to mention how would we explain it to Shaggy’s parents?” At least the Skulls didn’t have to worry too much on their end. Apparently this was somewhat par for the course for Arthur.

“I’m not leaving Shaggy behind.” The redhead was stubborn,

“No one’s leaving anyone behind.” Fred insisted. “None of us, and I imagine none of the Skulls either. If all nine of us are stuck together for a while, so be it. We’ll figure out this mirror thing one way or another.”

“Magic,” the word left a bad taste in Velma’s mouth. She couldn’t deny that was what was happening, but she hated to admit it. “We need to figure out the magic.” She sighed. “And we all need to look into it.” Vivi had confirmed that the more rational a person was, the harder a time they had understanding spellcraft. Which meant Fred, Daphne, even Shaggy was more likely to figure out a solution than she was. And it grated.

Fred sighed. “Let’s focus on the case for now. We’ll find Professor Mansfield and go from there.” He honestly didn’t like magic being real anymore than Velma did. At least not when it kept him separated from his friends.


Scooby watched as Arthur’s fingers flew over the keyboard, inputting every detail of the Robot he could remember. Sometimes he understood the terminology Arthur was using, but most of the time it went right over the dog’s head. Arthur had far more than a passing interest in robotics, it seemed. And he was way smarter than any mechanic Scooby had met. He was more like Velma in intelligence.

The conversation Arthur and Velma had about colleges worried him. If Arthur was so smart, he probably could have been much more than a mechanic, but he’d opted not to go to college because it would separate him from his friends. Would Velma do the same? The thought of the gang splitting up, even temporarily, was painful. But the thought of Velma never living up to her potential, ending up in a menial job, was worse.

And it’s not like they would lose contact. The past week showed that without a doubt. Not a day went by without at least one, often more, calls to check in with Shaggy. Even if his absence was like a physical pain in Scooby’s heart, Shaggy was still connected to them.

“Done.” Arthur hit send, the email going to multiple recipients. “Most of the guys should get back to me by later tonight, tomorrow at the latest.” His phone rang, and he checked the number. “And one right now.” he gulped and answered. “Hey, Uncle Lance.”

“Arthur, why did you send out an email asking about robots?” his Uncle asked with fake calm.

Maybe he shouldn’t have included his Uncle in the contacts. But he heard a lot through the grapevine. “Well, we stopped at this robotics festival-”

“Arthur, are you working a case?”

He flinched. “Yes, Uncle Lance.”

“Without Lewis or Vivi there as back up? Not to mention whatever that ‘dog’ is?”

“It’s fine. There are no evil cults, no supernatural monsters. Just a robot that someone programmed to make trouble. We find the creator and case solved.”

“Or you get shoved in a robot’s endoskeleton.”

“Endo….Have you been playing Five Nights at Freddy’s?”

“That’s besides the point,” Lance sighed. “I love you Arthur. But you always seem to run into the worst possible things. Can you blame me for being worried?”

“No, Uncle Lance.” It was true, after all. “But this isn’t like one of our cases. We’re not putting ourselves at risk, we’re just gathering information we can turn over to the police. And since we’re not officially involved, we have the option to just leave if things get too dangerous.”

Lance was silent. “I’ll contact some people I know that weren’t on your mailing list. Take care of this quickly and please be careful.” He pleaded.

“I will, Uncle Lance. You stay safe too.”

“Hmph,” But he could hear the smile in his uncle’s tone. “Anything tries to mess with me is gonna regret it.”

“Don’t I know it.” Arthur couldn’t wait till this was over and they were visiting home.

“Ro riss rim,”

“Yeah, I do. Uncle Lance has always been there for me, even when…” he clutched his arm. “Even when things were at their absolute worst.”

“Rood.” Scooby nodded. He was glad Arthur had someone to watch over him. “Rarthur? Rhy rid roo rick re?” Scooby had made it a point to stay by Arthur’s side, but at the same time, Arthur hadn’t seemed anymore attached to him than any other member of Mystery Inc. Perhaps even less so if you took into account his distrust of ‘talking dogs’.

One day he’d convince him he was a real dog.

Arthur was silent for a moment. “Part of it is the fact that your remind me a bit of Mystery.Which is silly, because you’re nothing like him, really.”

“Rystery rade rou reel rafe?” Scooby asked.

“Not really, at least not most of the time. But there was one thing I knew I could count on him for.” He bit his lip. “Scooby, you believe in ghost and stuff, right?”

“Ruh-huh.” Scooby agree. “Rhey’re rary.”

“They can be,” Arthur agreed. “What about possession?”

“Roression?” Scooby’s ears and tail lowered. “Really rary.”

“No argument there.” Arthur’s tone was calm, but his grip on his arm was white knuckled. “So if something was controlling me and tried to make me hurt the others, would you stop me?”

Scooby nodded. 

“No matter what? Even if it meant hurting or crippling me? Or worse”

“Rorse?” What had happened to Arthur?

“Please, Scooby. I need to be sure. I need to know I’m never going to hurt anyone ever again.” Arthur looked at the dog desperately.

Scooby nodded again, not trusting his voice. He might hear the lie. He needed Arthur to feel safe, but there was no way he could cripple Shaggy, or anyone for that matter. Much less ‘worse’.

Arthur seemed to have bought it, at least he relaxed significantly. “Thanks. I needed to know.”

At that point the computer dinged and Arthur turned his attention to it and though the whole disturbing conversation hadn’t just happened. Or worse, as though it were normal.

Scooby shook his head. Something bad had happened to Arthur, he’d known that for a while. Now he knew it involved possession and Arthur hurting someone unwillingly. He leaned against Arthur, making sure his mood didn’t take a dangerous dip again.

But the mechanic was fine, now. He simply tapped away on the computer, getting responses and cross referencing them. There couldn’t be too many places capable of not only building, but programming a construct like that.


“Whatcha working on?” Velma asked, looking over Arthur’s shoulder. They had decided to meet at a local diner to compare notes. Arthur had flipped his paper place mat over and had begun a series of drawing that looked like a robotic joint. “Is it for the case?”

Arthur started, “No, this is a project I’m working on. These are for the case.” He handed her a few sheets of paper, on which he had sketched the Robot in various stages of motion, complete with notes on how certain joints might work. “This is definitely not a guy in a mask unless he’s quadriplegic. The joints are too slim to fit a limb through.”

“An actual robot then, one remote controlled to kidnap the professor.” Velma sat down next to him and looked at the sketches.

“That’s what I’m thinking.” Arthur agreed. “Building a robot is one thing, though. Programming it is another. We’re looking for a team, or someone capable of doing both.”

“Are you two starting without us?” Daphne mock-chided.

“Sorry couldn’t help it.” Arthur gestured to his order of mozzarella sticks. “I’ve heard of having a black hole for a stomach, but this is patently ridiculous.”

“She meant the case,” Velma explained, sounding exasperated, though her grin gave her away. “What did you guys find?”

“Turns out Professor Mansfield doesn’t completely own the patents for most of his inventions and developments. They’re co-owned through a group called CLA Limited.” Fred explained. “Also, Mansfield isn’t just a teacher, the whole school was his idea. He spent every cent he had financing it and runs almost the whole thing.”

“So the target might be the school itself,” Velma surmised. “Removing Mansfield might see it collapse. On the other hand, causing the school to fail would put Mansfield in some desperate straights, which someone could take advantage of.”

“So what was the residue?” Arthur asked.

“It was from the ‘jetpack’ taking off, alright. But this compound hasn’t been used in years. In fact, I don’t think it could have gotten the robot off the ground, much less through the roof. It was for show. The robot must have had another way to fly. What about you, Arthur?”

“Well, like I said before, not a guy in a mask. Also, not a single design matches, but several seem to have partial similarities. And all of them originate from one company Fezness Animatronics. They did stuff for kids parties and even some Hollywood, but they went out of business a while back. We might be looking for an ex-employee with ties to Mansfield.” He finished his fourth appetizer. “So when are we turning this information over to the police?” 

“When we solve the case, of course.” Fred answered, as though it were obvious.

Arthur shrugged. He supposed he could understand their arguments being more persuasive if they handed in an idea for a suspect as well. He ordered his meal, content in that at least this time they wouldn’t be chasing after the bad guy themselves.


Sorry this took so long. Even after getting a new compy it took a while to get back in the swing of writing full chapters.

And special thanks to Idigihearts1x3 who helped me when I wrote myself into a corner.

Next time on Mirror’s Gaze