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littobin · 4 years

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[1:37AM] "thank you so much for saving me. honestly i can't think of what would be of me without you in my life." still a bit immersed in tries of steadying your breath from the previous runaway, you giggle happily in response and hit your best friend's shoulder playfully the moment you heard him talk sweetly, out of this endearing trail of beauty that was his smile you've always thought as better than the sight of the red roses at your house's garden.

without doubts it only took him the simple action of curving his extra thin lips up like he did now, so you'd always feel comfy, no matter the kind of times or hardships you'd be into. even so despite days like this, where you two just ran like crazy down a bunch of streets until you'd get both rescued at your house, to mislead the uptown gang's members whose once again tried to cage moonbin in his magical transformations.

honestly you couldn't believe at all how was it possible to actually exist such few silly people organized like that only to chase after any unusual beings for experiments, in the middle of a modern city. but if you really were to think neither would it be normal for you to have a man who could turn into a whole giant beast right by your side as well, meeting and staying from nights to nights under the moon living the greatest, most hilarious adventures together as long as both of your uni's allowed you two to.

you've known moonbin before as he's been one of your neighbors for years, specifically that kind and friendly type who always talked to everyone in the neighborhood, until he started changing to be more reclusive out of sudden. but since you've got to occasionally find out about his secret, at one night you saw him when you were going to do your laundry and he vehemently asked you to keep it forever or both his safety and search to end his enchantment would be risked, and you promised him to, both of your lives no longer could be the same.

it was just about naturally how you two ended up getting to be good friends and he grew to be one of the biggest source of joy you'd happen to get gifted with by the skies, as of you got to know more the beautiful human he also was. and where ever couldn't you gladly go with him when he'd text you to come in his sneakings to skip out the routine, although sometimes they could bring way too much adrenaline at once. for sure if it came to him, again it'd be worthy for you to do so, over and over. "ahh stop it's nothing, you know you can always count on my guts. and it's just so much fun to."

you state out as your hand goes to ruffle moonbin's dark hair softly, which felt so silky in your fingers, causing both of you to laugh loud in sync by remembering the early scenes. of how you two fooled around the stupid gangers like it was nothing after you've untied him, scared them and made everyone at the late hour on the streets confused to watch both of you running for dear life, all while holding each other's hand between thrilled loud laughs.

just so you kept watching the boy in front of you move a bit closer, you two still sitting on the floor as he started playing with some keychains and laces you had stuck on your long black coat, one habit of his you'd recognize of whenever he felt enthusiasm, his teeth showing off cutely through the way he kept chuckling with his eyes inclined into crescents. "yes it truly was- did you see their faces when i growled though? that was amazing!"

"oh my god bin don't even tell me, it was the best part. next time we really have to bring a camera to record and rewatch it all seriously-"

once again you and moonbin break down in pure amused laughter with your extra remarks, you not being able to help but hold his hand tightly in the process.

moments like these were all you needed to feel that nothing could change or ruin this fulfilling within your chest. out of your repetitive routine there was moonbin beside you, enlightening everything with his presence and standing as your number one supporter. even though all the things that came with his curse, such as his always hungry state specially for rice bowls, hyperactivity and very little sense of his own powerful strength, things as such that nevertheless the trouble they could give, you still liked a lot.

"next time i'll be more careful.. just know you don't have to go through situations you can't handle, i'm the one who's always here to protect you instead, ok?" he said out with clear worry poured over his expression, causing you to let out another tender smile and rub his almost ocean wide shoulders in a comforting way. "i know. but i do this because you're too important to me, that's why i wouldn't hesitate to do it all over again if so."

this time it was the taller one's turn to feel kind of affected by your words, through he strangely felt a beat skip out his heart's pace and a bit of flustering over his stomach, fondness being the only thing to fulfill his pupils with the more he stared at you.

moonbin actually didn't know what hit him to come to act up so weird because of you, nor to make up such a bunch of sensations and warmth all at once. if was it either because of your extremely affectionate eyes, the sweet smell off your hair or just the beyond wonderful feeling of you by whole, but you were immensely important to him too, since when he got the opportunity to be close to you after the night you saw him transforming, but you didn't treat him like the monster he himself knew he was. thanks to you with time he got back to be his normal self before the curse, always bright and talkative, and in some way, somehow he wanted to show you all of this.

"you really should get a reward one day y/n, for real.." he chuckled softly again, as you raised up one eyebrow, wondering what new goofy stuff your best friend would be planning.

"what kind of reward, sir bin?"

with this for some reason moonbin couldn't get his head together at all. lots of thoughts rushed to his mind about what he should better give to you as response, but no one seemed just as right besides what his heart kept incessantly moving him to. so slowly by the proximity you were into, without taking his sparkling eyes off yours he just let his body lean in along to his arms both at your sides through he crawled a bit to you closer and closer to end the gap, stopping when he could touch your nose on his as your lips were just millimeters apart, his hot and a little heavier breathing against yours.

you just stayed still unable to move out of shock, no choices left but to sense your eyes widening the closer he got and the material between your lungs racing like neither of your runaways would be capable to make you feel so. moonbin in the other hand chose to stay this way for a second, sighing while looking at you in such utter adoration, and you swore to dear lord you've never seen something so preciously gorgeous as every inch of his face at that moment, and the fair light blushing tone on it. not even the three am blue moon, compared to all the comets in his chocolatey irises.

"moon, bin.." nervousness took over you in a matter of second through your lids went shut, tugging on the hem of his white t-shirt you gave him last month, which he still liked to wear often. in the same way moonbin closed his eyes too and tightened a bit his strong arms that supported himself at your sides, starting to lovingly rub his gelid nose on yours.

"i want, to do that so bad.."

just when you gulped, flustered by how his soft boyish voice ringed so much more intimate in your ears like he never did near you, before a word could be said moonbin just pressed his lips against your own, the unbearable warmth radiating from him and his typical smell of cocoa shampoo surrounding everything around as well as causing your ears to go off like set on fire, for the first time in a while.

you felt kind of really wrong to do this, since he was one of your most special treasures, one of your most present and sincerest friends ever. yet there he was kissing you slowly, gently nibbling and moving his flushed thin lips that felt too warm, too soft on yours, in a way you'd never express, amidst quiet melting sounds and more attempts to get even closer to you although his much taller muscular figure and large back made you hardly to be seen.

nowhere into your mind you'd be able to imagine any of this happening. but after all it was still him, it still was moonbin, so in the less matter of minute you'd see it there you were already hugging his cuddly waist the way a few times you'd do, and simply letting him go the further he wished to. as through the first opening of his mouth asking for entrance, when you corresponded him it didn't take long so he'd be on top of you, with the heat of his tongue showing up within the kiss to deepen it still ever so gently, and now your hearts to rush loud in sync at the smallest touches, either by your left hand raising unconsciously to touch his chest but soon going back to hold on his waist, or him picking it for a moment to guide your fingers to the warm skin of his neck so he could feel you there.

still it all kind of felt like a dream, even more when after some more softer kisses moonbin pulled away and you were brought back to reality, but everything kept just so clouded of only him. the way he didn't stop staring at you with tenderness overflowing his manly features, the way reddish hues bloomed up his face as he tried to catch his breath, the way the hold of his hand was the same albeit the silence formed among you two. every single thing made the space marked for him grow more and more in your heart, no doubts you've never been so sure.

"you.. are a little sore, right there-" out of sudden you whisper quietly, leaving his hand to brush your thumb besides a little scratch on his cheek, the softest you could. moonbin only closes his eyes for a bit like the creature inside him would when being petted by you and lets out a small blissful smile, what kept your hand in place so you'd just take in the endearing sight.

"i hope you're not mad.."

he spoke a bit more serious although worry came back to his expression one more time, and you could say with your all it was just loving. how would you be ever mad at him, when absolutely nothing about your love for him could change, but increase.

moonbin always made the stars above the city of your world shine bright. and you just hoped more than ever you'd soon enough find how to give back his freedom and get to break his curse. however not having any clue you already did so.

- insp. beauty & beast!au.

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stone-man-warrior · 3 years

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February 25, 2021: 12:52 pm:

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The old “Stalking Order Trick”.

It never works.

It’s getting old though. This is the fourth time.

They do this when I report terrorism.

Instead of stopping the terrorism, instead of granting an interview to talk more about the terrorism, they send these two actors from Hollywood dressed in sheriff outfit, to hassle me, scare me, make me go into the controlled environment at the courthouse. Last time I was at the courthouse for this same terror scenario, Joe Satraini was portraying a Bailiff, attacked be with a sword in the courtroom, and was killed or injured in defense, then, I went home afterwords.

The reports of terrorism is answered with more terrorism, what you see there happened moments ago, the paper is still on the front porch, I did not open the door or invite the SAG terrorists into my home.

The one on the right looks remarkably similar to one of three men who claimed to be Secret Service, US Army, and FBI representatives who came to my home about this same time last year, I wrote about that, it’s on this account somewhere from the day it happened. I referred to them as “The Three Bozos” because they each had ID indicating that they indeed were from the agency’s mentioned, but were wearing casual street clothes. That one on the right looks like the “FBI” representative from that day, who was wearing a black leather or fake leather jacket that day. That one was dressed more “down town“ in the leather and slacks, while the other two Bozos were dressed for cutting some fire wood, in flannel and blue jeans.

That day one year ago, the NAMM Winter Music Industry Trade Show had just ended, or was under way, my assessment was that the three were musicians, disguised, came to kill me for my Medicare status to perpetuate my prescriptions with help from Paine Specialists of Southern Oregon in Medford.

So, that looks like the same guy there on the right, is dressed as Josephine County Sheriff Deputy today.

That other one on the left did all of the talking, said my neighbors went to the courthouse to file a “stalking order”.

Co-incidentally, my swollen leg with internal burning sensation is so bad today and yesterday that I can barely walk, I cannot feel my right foot, it’s as if it’s not there, except that my right foot feels frozen, is very painful, but like a club on the end of my leg ... hurts bad, is frozen cold, and when I try to walk it’s as if I have no foot to stand on sort of feeling from the poison gasses that the people who filed the stalking order have been poisoning me with by blowing the gasses into my home through the weep holes in the windows and cracks around the doors, forced through the weatherstripping they ruined years ago, and the gas is also blown through the laundry dryer vent, and condensation vent for the heating unit. and down the chimney with a long extension tube made of fiberglass folding tent supports.

The coincidence is that I am having trouble wearing socks to warm my foot, the sock is hindering the circulation, makes it feel colder, so, I tried a different sock. I put on one black sock, and one white sock on the other foot while trying to find one that will help warm up my frozen painful foot, but nothing is working.

I put the black sock on, and just a short time after having one black & white sock on my feet, the black & white shows up, within about an hour or two. There must be a camera inside my house for that to have happened, or, someone saw through the window that much about what I am wearing on my feet.

That is how terror is done, they will say my foot hurts because it was cold out when I was stalking the terror army in the neighborhood.

==========================================

3:53 pm:

This asshole right here:

https://twitter.com/POTUS/status/1364984502133657602

This fucking guy here:

https://twitter.com/POTUS/status/1365019986104836109

That one, on the left of the screen there:

https://twitter.com/POTUS/status/1365032380705087488

It’s a symbolic snuff movie.

You need to watch the signer, there are two signer’s, one is the guy the signed the contract to kill me, and the other is the one who is using church gang signs to say there is a snuff movie online somewhere.

Savvy sleuths could find the web address where a series of live murders took place today, that’s my call on that Joe Biden terror snuff pay-per-view infomercial from the @POTUS Twitter account today.

Most likely at a “Voyeur” website where cameras are arranged in a house, and everyone thinks that the people who live there do that for free intentionally just for you to watch. Reality is that an advertisement from @POTUS can say when and where the web site for a live steaming snuff murder is to take place online. It all happens within a short time, the camera feed is changed from the actual location via blue tooth temporarily, and the snuff video feed is inserted into the Voyeur website, where no one is ever there anyway, is just a cat and dog running around in a recorded loop. Club members are invited to watch.

Hint: If the Twitter account says: “He/Him”; “She/Her”; “They/Them”; “We/Us” or one of a few other “Pronoun‘s” that are described better at Whitehouse.gov “Contact Us” web site, are all “Club Members” and know where and how the find access to the “Voyeur” URL’s. Don’t report terrorism to the White House, that is one of the most dangerous things a person could ever try to do.

Try 376 Jackpine Dr., 97526 for the source of today’s Presidential murder fetish and baby raping entertainment study.

The thing that makes all of that worse is that Joe Bides in only a place holder for Ann Wilson and Roger Waters, who are the people who are really running the activities of the White House and Congress, and it’s all done from a place called Kauai Ranch in the state of Hawaii.

There is no Joe Biden any more. The videos are all from his Vice Presidency time, edited by Hollywood movie professionals to fool you.

Below are some of the parts to the hit order commanded on Twitter yesterday to have those fake deputies come to do a snuff set-up. Maybe they were supposed to cart me over to Chartrand’s at 376, or to the usual torture center next to my house at 520 Jackpine. I may have fouled up that attempt when I showed that I had a camera.

There are still many other scenarios in place as mentioned in other entries on this account.

Yesterday, the Monroe terror cell saw that I was unable to walk to the mailbox because my leg is hurting so bad, that I was limping and the pain got worse as I walked towards the road, so I turned around and walked back home because of the affects of the constant poisoning the Monroe’s and others are subjecting me to. So, they saw I was injured, and am an easy to capture prey, and Twitter arranged the hit order as a result, having had Monroe’s confirmation that I am hurt bad, can‘t get to the mailbox, and am limping in pain.

This is the first parts of the hit order from yesterday.

Here, Paski’s shirt has a hole in the side. That is representative of me, the victim marked for take out. They have not decided how to do the hit yet, just the order to to a “Tiger Woods Hole in One w/Leg Injury on the back of a Grand Jury notice in the mailbox”

https://twitter.com/ABCPolitics/status/1364637337045590017

This is not well known in circles outside of Hollywood DC terrorism, but I know what that spiral staircase is, that is a “Mitt Romney & The Mormons at Red Rocks”, is the same as “Allah & The Virgins at the Hollywood Bowl” terror comm. That puts Mitt Romney’s signature on the hit at my house.

There is a lot talk about “The Saudi King” in today’s 2-25-2021 WH Press Briefing, and all of that is about Mitt Romney. There is way too much more to add here, I should not have to solve my own murder, I need an interview from US national security and some medical attention.

https://twitter.com/NatGeoTravel/status/1364590974400421891

This below means: “Old Knowledge came out of the China Hutch” means old Christian secrets are exposed, is specific to Heroin use and Heroin driven terror soldiers. Ultimately the “China needs to be hidden away, deleted” is what that is presented on Twitter for.

https://twitter.com/CNN/status/1364762178079842306

This one is simple: “Stone Take Out”

https://twitter.com/CNN/status/1364621187238793218

There is more I need to find, I am having trouble finding Psaki’s Wardrobe change yesterday where she took off the dress with the hole in it, and put on a black & white dress with a Chevron Print Design feature on the bust of the dress. That is when the means to do the hit at my house was decided to me a “Black & White Sheriff ‘Shove Ron’ Build Back Heart Attack, Better American Rescue Plan” (Ron Howard’s Master Class Signature went on the hit order at that time.)

There is much more, dozens of ingredients to the hit order with those two deputies as the set-up and potential carry out order operatives are available to find on Twitter over the past 24 hours, and, are also contained in Music Industry Promotional Email today from Kramer, Robert Keeley, Eastwood Guitars, Premier Guitar Magazine, Vintage King Audio, D’Angelico new York, AMS, and Zzounds Music, all of them have put a signature onto the Twitter Presidential command to kill me and take down this account, is all still active and ongoing.

I need to find the Psaki Wardrobe Change from yesterday to the black & white “Shovron Dress”, and add it here.

What are the odds that it’s still on Twitter? There were multiple tweets from a variety of major news networks, I think they have all been deleted because it’s too easy to see that it’s a “Shovron“, and Ron Howard does want to go to the gas chamber for Treason for having directed the World Trade Center Collapse in 2001, and, the others he was working with who directed and took part in the attack at the Pentagon that day, also don‘t want to face a firing squad in Texas for their participation in the treason, and Ron is going to sing like a little Twitter Bird, live, at 376 Jackpine on a voyeur channel, when the real police find him.

Ron‘s friends will do it for free, coming soon, to a war theater near you.

There is no where to go Ron.

Either the real police find you, and you get the gas chamber, or, your friends at the Pentagon find you, and they make it hurt at the One Hour Martinizer at 520 Jackpine.

That was a bad idea Opie.

=====================

Twitter, says, that FOX news says, that Mitt Romney says, that all of the GOP is signing the contract on the hit to kill me at my house:

https://twitter.com/FoxNews/status/1364533033806663684

This is all because I asked the White House to send some help. I informed of the mass murders, again, to the White House ... I think I have made about ten or twelve official reports to the White House over the course of time since Gearge W. Bush was president, and have made at least two tries to reach each of the US Presidents since Bush, they sent confirmation of receipt. Obama sent a little bug that deleted the email receipt, and Joe Biden sent the exact same one, but I still have the receipt the White House sent, last time I looked. They all want to play stupid, as though they did not recieve any important news about US Takeover by a Canadian terror army the uses poison gasses to kill the US Citizens so the Canadians can replace the US citizens.

The reason for that, the reason that the WH won‘t send help is that everyone of the elected officials in DC and all of the State Governors were all “elected” by Canadians who are using the names of millions of murdered US Voters.

All of the US Government was elected by murderers, who are also impostors.

That is why there has been no help sent to stop the terrorism.

911 Emergency Phone Service is manned with Canadian terror soldiers and SAG actors who are waiting there to dispatch assassins to anyone who reports terrorism, murder, poison gas, etc.

Same at FBI.Tips.Gov. It’s manned with terror soldiers. When I make a report there, assassins come to my house to kill me.

I have made a dozen or so attempts to get help from FBI. I called a few times, and was attacked by state police who filled me with tasers. The taser guns have two darts, they used the two darts, then went back to the squad car to get another taser gun, and shot those two darts at me when I telephoned FBI.

I went to FBI in Medford in Person twenty years ago, that did not work for getting any help when the terror army was murdering the Fourth Graders at Manzanita Elementary School by taking the students on one-way feild trips, the buses returned without any kids on them. I think I remember Celine Dion was on one of those buses to animal park in Eugene or Salem Oregon area.

no one will help.

The celebrity women are too pretty, and they serve the terrorism by distracting any real police that might do an investigation. no one is going to arrest Celine Dion, even if she is on the bus where no students returned from the field trip.

That is the kind of services that SAG can provide to the murders. As long as Antonio Bandaras and Vanna White are around, there will be no investigation, just a hotel room by the hour is all that will happen for entertaining federal investigators.

==========

5:38 pm:

This part here takes the Psaki involvment to Angela Merkles doorstep, then, it takes another step to D’Angelico Guitars of new york.

Today’s WH Press Brief included Psaki saying “There is a Range on the Table”. This Tweet says the range is between -24 and 18, is German, is nation wide, if think about what the tweet really is suggesting, nation wide is the message, German is the nation. The Range is on the table, that cannot be good. Go listen to Press Secretary Jen Psaki for yourself from today, that press brief was live as the sheriffs came to my house, they had a live view of what I was doing on my computer as I was arranging the photos, getting them from the hijacked Yahoo mail, and saving them after putting the Stone Man stamp on them. The people at the news brief commented about the label I used as I was doing that in Microsoft Paint and commented live in code of that, as it was not expected that I would put a water mark on my photos so Monroe can’t easily steal them to change the story.

https://twitter.com/bbcweather/status/1364595973717123077

Jen Psaki’s Wardrobe change videos that were available yesterday at the same time when she was also wearing that blue/purple dress with the hole in it are all purged in classic Google fashion.

The hole in the side of Paski’s dress means “Pay-Per-View”. The “ShoveRon” Black & White dress she changed into videos are all gone, not available to see on Twitter today.

The terror nieghbors are coninueing to release airborne poison gasses right now and all day. My symptoms are worsening.’

My vision was nearly perfect this morning, but now I can barely see, Monroe’s are still blowing the poison gasses into the ambient air and around my house.

Do your own math.

It’s no wonder why there are no reports of real terrorism anywhere other than on this Tumblr account, no one can survive unless they have the kind of knowledge that I do, that the nitrous gas is flammable, but this other gas that causes the circulation problems and rash, and leg swelling, I don’t think is flammable.

I suspect A-1 Exterminators on 7th Street in Grants Pass to be a source of the so called “Boutique Gasses” the terror army has developed, and also “Blue-Star Gas” on Pleasant Valley Road across from the Moose Lodge in Merlin Oregon located on the rail road track that comes by on Russell road.

That train has been running at odd hours, is way off the usual schedual, and has been nearly silent when it has been going by since the time I made the terror report to the White House and is likely the source of the poison gas I am experiencing the poor vision and leg circulation symptoms from. The train tracks are less than 1600 feet away from my house. They use gas tanker cars to release gas along the track, and they have special vehicles that can ride on train tracks, then ride on paved roads to disappear into freeway traffic, refill, and start over again in Merlin at the rail crossing at Pleasant Valley Road next to “Blue-Star Gas” which is labelled as a propane dealer, has a lot of pressure tanks for carrying airborne gasses.

This looks like orders to use the rail road to release gas in the neighborhood.

https://twitter.com/ABC/status/1365105999896408067

The poison gas symptoms on my leg have increased from swelling at the right foot and shin area with a substantial very itchy rash on my shin and calf, to both feet are swollen now, I can’t feel my foot on the right when I try to walk, it feels icy cold on my foot, is burning intensity all inside my whole right leg, and the rash on my shin is making tiny blisters that pop and ooze a clear liquid. There is no where I can go for medical services.

US Citizens cannot get medical treatment in COVID USA. It’s a slaughter, not a virus.

US Population is being snuffed out like bugs in a jar, by the government that was hijacked by terrorists long ago. They have been taking over hospitals for decades in preparation to roll out Corona Virus, where “boutique” poisons make the symptoms as Twitter promotes the fear and concern that makes the people go to the hospitals where Ron Howard kills them on camera, and Nancy Sinatra casts a look-a-like replacement from Canada.

Betty White and Tom Hanks do the hosting at the awards celebrations, while Metallica and MegaDeath play as the musical guests at the events.

==================

When someone reports terrorism and points out who the murderers are, all the murderer needs to do is claim that the person is stalking them, and in the courtroom the Judge always sides with the plaintiff on that, and the defendant who needs to reach help to stop the murders is ordered by the courts that they are no longer able to use the name of the murderer publicly.

That is one of the ways the courts serve the terrorism, they can make sure that the murders name is not spoken, revealed, written, or otherwise mentioned. Meanwhile the terror murders continue while the eye-witness is persecuted, held captive in their home, forced into silence and ultimately killed and replaced by a SAG or Canadian terror operative.

The courts will effectively force me to delete this whole account with that stalking order if I am told not to say the names of the people who are killing me with poisons, shooting at me daily, holding be captive for decades.

=========

7:51 pm:

As it stands right now, these listed items below are some of the pre-arranged scenarios that are already in place for a “Ivanka Trump Opportunity Zone attack on a Jesus Gauntlet”

This Gauntlet is planned with events all in place for an attempt to kill me, all include set-up for a frame of some crime they will say I did, and all include the author of this account is not harmed. Instead, it will be said the someone else was killed, and a stand-in replacement will take control of this account. The way it sits right now, the account is set-up in advance for a court ordered deletion, where my replacement look-a-like will delete the account because the Judge ordered it due to so many mentions of so many terror soldiers and terror leaders all over the world.

The “new me” will just access the account controls after I am killed by a rock star bailiff in disguise, and no further mention of it will be made after that.

USA will lose.

Terrorism and murder, slavery and captivity will prevail.

Court day for stalking order.

Groceries at the Walmart.

Drivers License renewal at Beacon Ave DMV. They will say I need a vision exam for corrective lenses.

The Eye-Doctor Visit is one I need to survive.

Then, back to the DMV again if I survive the Eye-Doctor.

Dr, Visit at the terror SAGClubMed fake doctor at Pain Specialists of Southern Oregon,

Walgreen’s if I survive, if not, the Rock Star Bailiff picks up my prescriptions increased to “MAX: Maximum Allowable per Medicare Part-D Rules” so that SAG Musicians can get high on a disabled guys medicine.

There is a day I need to go to JP Morgan Chase Bank every year, the bastards know that I need to do record keeping, and created a situation where I must go to the Chase Bank rather than do any other way of doing the record keeping I am required to do, Carpenters Union participates in that one every year, and they want their share of the loot when I am killed also. Los Angeles Carpenters Pension Trust specifically.

Centurylink has those trenching markers out front, so I have to survive that when the start digging.

There is Grand Jury they say I am forced to participate in. That is really just for the successful assassin to go check in with the sheriff office and Courts when they kill me, but also they do take out work at both places.

The Pacific Power Corporation Asplundhe Tree Service Power Line Easement Inspection and “Standing Dead & Proximity Trimming” event at my house is in place if I survive some of those other “Jesus Gauntlet” scenario’s.

that makes nine or ten major events that I need to survive and a few small ones.

So, that, plus survive the usual daily attacks and poisonings.

And worst of all ... I need to get my mail out of the mailbox, walk down my driveway past the Monroe’s terror cell, and make it back to my house alive during that time frame, and beyond that if I am able to survive the Jesus Gauntlet this next two months or so.

So, fair warning, I am not likely to make it through these pre-arranged Ivanka Triump Opportunity Zone murder scenario’s. Each one of those listed events has at least one written screenplay to use as a basis for the attack plan. The screenplays have all been done thousands of time by the terror cells who run the murder scenario’s. They have it down to a science for killing most unsuspecting US Citizens who simply are trying to run some errands, do some shopping, deal with some banking, go to a doctor appointment, or were roped into having to appear in a court hearing. Most don‘t make it back from the mailbox at the end of the driveway.

==========

8:41 pm:

Trending on Twitter now:

It’s a command order from Google high command (Vatican Choir; Amp Guru; Kauai Ranch Members of “The Green‘s of Olde Three Ply” terror cell; and the Pope) to do a “Ben Hur” or a version of that one movie about Jesus I forget what it’s called, or, “Faces of Death” (That one has been in discussion all day coded into the Twitter news stories from most of the Verified Accounts I read. Go look for the photos in news today featuring famous people making funny faces, means “Jesus Face Toast”, translates to “Christian Cinema” “Krysten Sinema” today)

The “Christian Cinema” command order is to produce a wicked snuff movie, one that is equivalent of the one they made at north Valley High School in around 2003 - 2004 or so, when the students were forced to do a Olympic Style Competition, were killed at the various events, each event was transformed into some kind of medieval contraption at the Decathlon ... it was forever known as the “Decapathon” by the surviving students at the school. The movie is called “The Making of Ben Hur” I am pretty sure, is composed of about 200 high school students being horribly murdered with machinery all disguised as part of the Decathlon track & field events. The people that made the movie had very expensive professional movie making equipment including the kind of “Rabbit Cam” that are used at a Dog Race Race Track, the thing the dogs chase after around the track, is on a rail. That was used at the “Hurtles” event, where the “Hurtles” were regular hurdles fitted with blades that spring out as the running high school student tried to clear the obstacles on the track at the Junior Varsity Football Field at the school. The students were laying in the track with severed limbs as that rabbit went around from victim to victim to get the best angle for the movie that was produced that day.

I am talking about dead high school students here, and the movie that was made of their murders.

no one cares about US High School Students, or disabled people, or elderly people in the care homes who cannot possibly defend against James Hetfeild when he is killing them to get high on pain meds.

Christian Cinema (Krysten Sinema) is a unpleasant thing to see this evening on Twitter.

Do you remember the final scenes of Braveheart? On that stage where he was disemboweled? That is a real thing that is done in Oregon when people are tortured at 520 Jackpine next door to my house.

So, Twitter is still Tweeting, that means no help is ever to come to Oregon, or anywhere, they are going to keep doing the slaughter, and keep making movies of the murders.

Trending on Twitter: “Christian Cinema”

https://twitter.com/search?q=Sinema&src=trend_click&vertical=trends

=============

9:23 pm:

In other news:

This thing here reminds me of my visit to the Dole Pineapple Plantation in Hawaii. I think it’s close to the Maui Isthmus. There is a maze/labirynth there sort of like that snow maze there.

At Dole, there are assassins that shoot at people in the maze from tower sort of structures that are in there. The shooting does not start until the marked victims are deep in the maze, it takes about an hour to make it out of there.

Also, that trap door I sometimes mention that is in the floor of the sheriffs office in Josephine County, where there is a chair that tips over, and dumps the unsuspecting sheriff visitor down into the tunnels that are below the sheriffs office and go all under the whole city of Grants Pass Oregon.

That trap door works with the same kind of mechanisms as does the table on the marble maze game called “Labyrinth”. The trap door tips over one direction, then another direction, and the victim who is seated at the sheriff’s desk is dumped into a hole under his office on F Street behind the Walmart.

The man who built that door is the same man who’s wife made the exploding statue that blew up a big bus, and a number of people who were on it, a deputy Strohmeyer, Frank Skraw sheriff of Klamath Falls was on that bus for awhile, maybe he exploded on it, some deputies from Grants Pass were on it, and some from Jackson county were also on the bus that exploded in Medford at the Sears a few years ago, February 7 2017 I think is was.

Any way, the man that built the sheriff office trap door in the floor, was Dan Fauley, former address 344 Tunnel Creek Road in Hugo area. Dan’s wife Lynn made the exploding C-4 Statue, I was supposed to have been put on that bus.

I wrote about all that stuff before, it’s all been documented for many years, no one cares.

Dan Fauley also built the remodel work that was done at the Washington Ave Post Office Facility on the corner of Hillcrest Ave. at the front entrance after the place exploded once long ago. There are no reports of any explosion happening there, but the entrance and other parts of that building did blow up. Dan Fauley did the remodel work. I think he transformed what used to be the lobby rest room into some other kind of holding pen for keeping captive victims inside of where that rest room used to be in the Post Office Lobby on Washington Ave. That place is called the “Postal Annex” by most of the older local terror soldiers and is “The Stork” terror cell HQ for this area. The name “Postal Annex” is a decoy, detour, road block, distraction service put in place by the terror army. When someone asks about the “Postal Annex” while trying to report terrorism to the Postal Inspector General in Portland Oregon, the Inspector General denies that such a place exists at all, they claim that there is no postal office facility there on Washington Ave, and that the person making the report about what they saw should contact the Oregon Better Business Bureau in Salem Oregon instead. Inspector General claims that the place is a private company and is not a USPS facility.

The Inspector General insists that the only 97526 Post Office is on the corner of 6th & G Streets in Grants Pass.

Oregon is a breeding ground of terrorism, it’s a training center, the whole state is a place where “Terror Policy” and “Models of Terror Systems of Murder” are perfected, and then duplicated, rolled out the same in other cities around the world.

https://twitter.com/CNN/status/1365158181098442752

For some perspective about how long Oregon has been hijacked, by whom, when and where killing systems were installed, and how to find the responsible people, you need only study the boat ramps on the Rogue River from Shady Cove to Galice Oregon.

Almost all of the boat ramps are installed backwards.

Most of the boat ramps are secluded, that also is part of the planning of the backwards boat ramps. That seclusion assists the terror army to take victims at the backwards boat ramps on the Rogue River. The boat ramps are all installed such that as you back the boat into the water, the ass end of the boat is directed into oncoming river flow. The boat, trailer, truck, dog, wife in the passenger seat, ice chest and fishing gear all go down river as a result of backwards boat ramps on the Rogue River. There is always a two foot tall cliff under the water where the trailer wheels are at as the boat should begin to start to float. When the trailer wheels fall off that little cliff, the boat is still attached to the trailer, and the trailer to the truck that pulls it. The current is very strong, and inexperienced boaters go down river every time with all of their stuff.

Three Boys Towing is just around the bend, in the tow truck, waiting to get word from the “Friendly Canadian Fly Fisherman who is at every boat ramp tying flies” at the side of each boat ramp, he is there with his wife waiting for tourists to launch a boat, and calls Three Boys Towing as soon as the trailer and truck are under water while using the nitrous oxide to capture the boat owner as he is trying rescue his wife, kids, boat, motor and trailer.

Three Boys gets all of that stuff out of the water, they do it every day, no problems. Then, DMV makes the necessary VIN changes after some Lithia Dodge mechanics do a cleaning, get the water out of the carburetor, and, title switch, and licensing is transferred to some other person if needed. If not, then an attack team takes all of that stuff back to the victims home to prey on their family and friends, and the terror army grows exponentially that way, in fifty states where the tourist boaters come from.

The boat ramps are state wide like that. The boat is not supposed to go ass end into the oncoming current, the ramp is supposed to go with the current as the boat is launched into the water, which also allows that the boat goes into the current to put it back on the trailer, as it should be.

It’s not the way should be though, it’s all backwards.

All of the boat ramps have some metal brackets, rebar, chunks of iron just below the surface of the water, and at the sides of the ramp, all of them have an accident waiting to happen built in to them, and the hospital never has been close by, even before they were all hijacked, so, it’s all for terror advance of Global Domination, has been there a long time at the boat ramp, installed by Kitzhaber government.

=================

11:20 pm:

Please send help to Oregon.

I haven‘t opened my door yet today, presumably that paper those fake sheriff’s brought is still on the front porch.

I don‘t know the details the fake stalking order says.

There were two time today after that when terror soldiers where hiding under my kitchen window, they are waiting for me to open the door, but that is not unusual, waiting under the window is unusual, they usually don‘t make so much noise like today, so, they wanted me to open the door. That was when the blurry vision gas was thickest this afternoon.

I am not going to get the mail until my leg feels good enough to walk on it without as bad as does now, so, no local conditions will be happening tonight.

There are no signs of helpful people, around here you get a visit from a sheriff only to make trouble, make life more difficult, to bring the victim into the bottleneck kill zone at the courthouse where the fingernail clipper is taken away so the rock star in disguise bailiff can use the sword on a unarmed disabled citizen in the fake hearing.

They don‘t do law enforcement, public safety, or national security work in Oregon.

Please send help. Please send US Military. Bring your own hospital. Stay away from local authorities.

2 notes · View notes

emptymasks · 4 years

Text

And I’ll be coming for you too

Pairing: Tom Cody/Raven Shaddock

Words: 3319

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Read on Ao3

Notes: So this whole fic was just written as a practice for the actual fic I want to write, but I wasn't sure if I was getting Raven's dialogue in character so I thought as a practice I could just write scenes from the film. So all the dialogue is actual dialogue from the film (apart from one line), and Raven's internal voice is all my writing. I wasn't sure whether to post it as this was just to help me practice getting into character for them, but once I finished typing I realised it was 3k words long so I may as well post it.

Also, yes, hi, hello, it's been over 2 months since I posted. I was being so good at writing frequently again and then I just dropped off. I don't know why I became convinced I didn't have the time to write, and when I did I just couldn't get myself to do it. But now the UK is on lockdown and I've had to shut my shop, my only source of income, guess I don't have the excuse of not having time anymore huh.

Also it's late and my eyes were hurting as I proof-read so there may be mistakes there wouldn't usually be, sorry.

He’d almost forgotten how pretty she was.

They’d tied her up as soon as they’d gotten back to the bar and Raven had stayed with his men, sorting things out and going through how he was going to handle her, and how none of them were going to tell anyone where she was.

Ellen was still on the bed where they’d left her, of course she was, it’s not like she’d be able to untie herself. She was moving her arms, trying to tug them free and failing. She was glaring at him with such cold hate that only sharpened her features. Her chest was heaving.

Raven was across the room in an instant. He sat on the bed, putting his hands either side of her waist. Not touching her, not yet. He smirked down at her and her expression didn’t change. He felt a twinge of anger. Couldn’t she feel something, even if it was burning rage? Without thinking he swept down in an attempt to kiss her but she turned her head away.

“You know, you’re making things real hard on yourself. You act nice, me and you fall in love for a week or two, and then I let you go. Nobody gets hurt,” He reached out to hold her cheek. “You see, I ain’t such a bad guy. I just… get excited around pretty girls.”

He tried to kiss her again but she continued to turn away and push her legs up to try and create distance between them. Raven frowned.

There were women in this area that would love a chance with him (some men too), though granted it was more because they figured sleeping with the leader of the Bombers would give them some protection, but here he’d had to go after someone who didn’t want him.

She was so beautiful though, even more so without those brightly coloured lights from the stage beaming down on her. She seemed so much smaller like this…

Raven watched as Ellen continued kept herself pressed away from him. He got to his feet and paced the length of the room and back. This should be easy, she was tied down, just… you know… do it… But he’d been hoping she could be into it, a stupid fantasy. Is that what he’d done all this for, some fantasy crush?

Goddamn, if it was that this would all be so much easier.

He’d sensed the Bombers getting restless. What with other gangs rising up, and trouble with the Road Masters, he’d sensed that somewhere getting pretty displeased about how he was running things. They felt like they hadn’t done anything big in ages, that Raven wasn’t bad enough, wasn’t tough enough. That he was starting to go soft. So what could be a bigger move to show he was not to be messed with than to successfully kidnap the single most famous and heavily-guarded person in Richmond. That would be big enough to shut them all up.

He cast a glance back at Ellen before storming out of the room. He let out a slow breath to make himself appear calm before crossing the hallway and into the room where a group of Bombers were playing cards, and he sat in his usual seat next to Greer. Greer wasn’t the best fighter among them, but he’d quickly become Raven’s right-hand man as he had an uncommon sense of loyalty towards Raven. He’d rather have an okay fighter who’d actually give a shit if he was shot, rather than the best fighter who’d leave him to bleed out in the streets.

Raven put Ellen from his mind. Either she’d come around and they’d have a fling, or she wouldn’t and Raven would move her to somewhere where the others Bombers couldn’t get to her. He didn’t want all his men putting his hands on her, and while he had gone to all this trouble, he wasn’t the type to force himself on someone. Abducting, sure that’s easy and hey you don’t have to hurt them, but he wasn’t comfortable doing that. Not that he could let the other Bombers know that.

He was trying to focus on the game and lit a cigarette, when some blond girl burst into the room.

“Knock, knock,” She said, smugly, as she pointed her gun at them.

Raven calmly took the cigarette out of his mouth. He’d had guns pointed at him too many times for it to bother him anymore. Maybe that would worry some people. Maybe it should worry him.

There was a commotion outside the bar, and then he heard footsteps closer to them, before retreating. Shit, someone figured out where Ellen was.

“Guys, it’s been a slice,” The blonde girl backed out of the room, shutting the door behind her as she ran off.

Raven shot to his feet. “Well don’t all just sit there!” He yelled as the Bombers finally started moving and following her out of the door.

When Raven finally got outside, away from all the bodies crashing into each other in a panic, there was fire in the street. Whoever came for Ellen sure was having some fun. Raven could respect that.

Navigating his way through the fire, he saw a man starting up a bike, a Bomber bike.

“Well,” Raven called over to the man as he approached. “Looks like I finally ran into someone that likes to play as rough as I do.”

The man on the bike turned around. Raven had never seen him before. Strange that it wasn’t a local, only locals knew how to get into the Battery. Maybe he was some hired hero or hitman paid off to get Ellen back.

He was pretty though.

It wasn’t like Raven to not notice that. He’d realised when he was fairly young he had a penchant for pretty things, whether they were girls or guys. His mother used to say it was a good thing he was named after a bird, since he always seemed to chase anything pretty and shiny.

“Yeah, this must be your lucky night.” Oh so the man was sure of himself. Quick too. And what those words could mean in another context. Raven could almost think the man was flirting.

“I’m lucky? I guess maybe I am,” Raven smirked, then dropped into a scowl. “And you’re dumb. Real dumb if you think you can pull this off.”

“I think you’re forgetting something,” The man pulled at the front of his coat. “I’ve got the gun.”

“I can get guns, smart guy, lots of them. Now why don’t you tell me your name?” It was a perfectly normal question. If he was going to find this mystery pretty boy (mystery man, his brain fought among itself) and track him down, he’d need his name. It wasn’t because he was interested… Alright, it wasn’t just because he was interested.

“Tom Cody. Pleased to meet ya,” The man’s lip twitched into the hint of a smile. It annoyed Raven.

“I’ll be coming for her. And I’ll be coming for you too.”

“Sure you will. And I’ll be waiting.”

Raven let his face break out into a smirk that seemed to get under the man’s skin as he turned his head away. Raven watched him set off on the bike, then turned to walk back through the fire.

Raven sent Greer to go and arrange the meeting with the cops. Greer could take care of himself, but also Cody wouldn’t care to go after him. Hell, Raven couldn’t show up alone anywhere right now, Tom Cody present or not. Ellen Aim was well loved and being her abductor was not making him any more well liked than he was. People still feared him, sure, but now people from out of town knew his face. He wasn’t sure if he liked that. A guy always needs to be able to disappear. You never know when you might have too.

“I want Tom Cody. I want to nail that son-of-a-bitches’ head to the side walk under that marquee that says ‘Ellen Aim’ on it,” Raven couldn’t help but grin at the thought.

Cody was infuriating him more every second. First he shows up and takes back the girl, then he proceeds to shoot his men, blow up his street, and steal a bike (maybe the bike should bother him less). He wanted to punch him in the face real bad. The idea of Cody losing to him, submitting to him, was a pleasing thought. And he needed it. Not because he was obsessing over Cody, no, not at all, but the Bombers had just suffered a lot of damage while he led them and that was causing a lot of rumblings. If Raven didn’t make Cody pay, the Bombers were going to him pay.

The cops hated him, he knew that. Fuck them.

“And to prove to you that I’m gonna be a nice guy,” Raven continued. “I’m coming in with just two of my men. After I take care of Cody, they’ll be no more trouble,” He was smirking again as soon as he said Cody’s name, he could feel it.

And they were lies of course. For a week or so he’d act like he was keeping his word, but then start to scale things back up again.

“Do your job man, keep the peace.”

That fucking bastard cop. Fucking liar. Cody hadn’t shown up. Knowing Officer Price, he’d probably warned Cody to get out of town.

Whatever. It wasn’t like he was dumb enough to trust cops.

He rode down, with Greer and Mikey riding just behind him, and came to a stop in front of the barricade of cop cars. He stopped his bike and watched as the cops approached, clenching his jaw.

“Well?” Raven lounged back on his bike. Cody was possibly still here, or at least could still show up.

“It’s real simple, Raven,” Officer Price spoke up. “There’s no showdown. Tom Cody ain’t here and neither is the girl.”

Oh fuck, yeah the girl. He’d sort of forgotten about taking Ellen back since he’d been so focused on Cody.

Cody who wasn’t fucking here.

“I don’t get it,” Raven felt his jaw starting to shake.

“Get off your bike, Raven.”

Alright, tough fucking cop.

Raven stood, swinging his leg over his bike. “I ain’t too crazy about jails, chief. I got a better idea for ya.”

As Raven raised reached into the pocket of his black, leather coat, he watched the cops tense as they expected a gun.

Idiots.

Raven pulled up the air horn so they could clearly see what it was, and he pressed it.

He watched the cops faces as they realised what was about to happen. It was so fucking satisfying. Watching their faces crumble as he head the rumble of bike engines approach and approach and the cops’ eyes widen as they realised just how many where coming.

“I told your friend Cody I could get a lot of guns.”

It felt like such a brilliant moment.

Some short little runt had to ruin it, pushing his way through the gathering crowd to start yelling in Raven’s face.

“What is this?! You can’t get away with this! You think you can ride into any town and kidnap anyone you want?”

Yeah, pretty much.

“Now, get the hell out of town and leave these people alone,” The man spoke as if he was somehow intimidating. As if that was going to make Raven leave. Pathetic.

He didn’t even need to tell Greer to get the guy out of his face, Greer just stepped forward and punched the man. The officer behind Price scurried over to help the fallen man.

They could easily take the cops. It would be something. Not as satisfying as if Cody was here. It wasn’t fair.

Then there was a screech. Tires on concrete.

Raven saw the red blur before he even recognised it as a car. Cody pulled up behind the cops, perfectly placed so Raven could see him, like he wanted all of Raven’s attention on him. As soon as Cody stepped out, he took one look at Raven and shrugged off his coat. He threw it back into his car with a sharp turn and stalked towards Raven. Raven couldn’t help but inspect the other man’s physique more. Perhaps Cody was more muscular than he’d thought. He could still take him though… especially with what he’d brought with him.

“Sorry I’m late,” Cody didn’t look fucking sorry at all. His face was this blank expression. Raven couldn’t tell if he was angry, or just bored.

He won’t be bored for long.

“I’ve got something special in mind. I brought them along, just for you,” Raven removed his own coat, revealing even more black leather underneath. He turned around to throw his coat onto his bike.

He motioned to Greer to get the weapons he’d brought with him.

“Well my plan went to shit,” Officer Price turned to Cody. “Let’s see how you do.” He stepped closer to Cody as if he didn’t want Raven to know what he was saying, but Raven could still hear. “Kick his ass.”

He watched Cody give a slight nod and a smile to Price. He looked more infuriating when he was smug.

There was shouting people started to run out form their houses, as they got closer Raven realised most of them had guns. Well, he really better fucking win this.

The hammers made a clanging sound as Greer spun them around in his hand, before throwing one to Cody and the other to Raven.

Fuck guns. These were things that could do some real damage. It also got them up close and personal, made strength come into it. Anyone could stand and fire a gun.

“Nice, huh?” Raven twirled the hammer in his hand, looking casual, before pouncing and striking towards Cody.

Cody’s reflexes were good. He dodged every blow and Raven fully realised the weight of the weapon. If you weren’t careful swinging it, it would bring you down with it.

“Get him!” Greer cheered as Raven struck Tom just below the shoulder.

He’d got a hit in. Okay, he could do this.

Their hammers locked and Raven twisted so it fell out of Cody’s grip, but he was quick to pick it back up. Fuck that. When their hammers locked again, Raven let go with one hand to punch Cody in the face.

That did feel good.

He backed Cody up against a car as he kept dodging more blows. He dodged Cody’s swing that continued on through the car window, covering them both in tiny shards of glass.

They continued to fight and while Cody managed to hit Raven, they quickly went to locking hammers against each other’s. This wasn’t going to work. Fuck! Cody was physically stronger than he’d anticipated. He couldn’t tell from that trench coat that underneath was a fucking jock. If he couldn’t beat him with strength, he’d have to be agile. He twisted and kicked his leg out, his boot landing in Cody’s gut.

Cody was caught off guard and Raven punched him again, sending Cody sprawling onto the floor. He was faintly aware of Greer screaming past the adrenaline pumping through him, blocking out everything other than Cody.

He went to strike down on Cody, but the bastard kept moving. He wasn’t paying attention, purely running on emotions, and before he knew it Cody had grabbed his hammer back and swung it around to hit Raven in the back.

Well turns out he’d been right about them fucking hurting.

Cody then managed to get up and bring his knee into Raven’s stomach, before hitting him across the back with the handle of the hammer.

They locked their hammers a final time as they both pushed with all the strength they had. Their gazes flickered between each other and the hammers which were slowly moving down. Raven could feel himself slipping, he wasn’t strong enough, god fucking dammit.

Raven’s hammer clattered to the ground.

He’d fucked up.

He watched Cody swing back and couldn’t help but feel all kinds of fucking scared as he realised if that hammer hit his head he was very much not going to be okay.

But Cody threw the hammer to the ground.

What the fuck?

What the fuck?! He didn’t want Cody’s fucking pity!

Raven heard himself screaming before his brain processed that that noise was coming from him. He charged at Cody, running him up against some of the Bombers, knocking them and their bikes over. He didn’t care. He didn’t fucking care, he just needed Cody to stop being so fucking infuriating.

He kept punching and kicking and Cody fell and tumbled some more, knocking over even more bikes in his path. When Cody tried to stand up, Raven kicked him in his stomach. When he didn’t try to stand up, Raven grabbed him and pulled him to his feet just to punch him in his face and sent him falling back down again.

He approached Cody again, but Cody’s leg flew up (how was he that fucking flexible?) and kicked Raven in the face. It was Raven’s turn to go sprawling over the floor, landing on one of the Bombers.

He looked up and saw Greer’s face was cold. Jesus, fuck, it’s always the loyal ones isn’t it. Or the ones that think you are. How dare he act like Raven was disappointing him?! He’d only been punched once and already the Bombers were giving up on him.

There he was, not paying attention again, and Cody hauled him to his feet, punching him again and again. They were both getting tired. Raven could feel himself slipping. Tom punched him in the face once, twice, three, four times in a row. Raven stumbled back, barely staying on his feet. He wasn’t sure if he was swaying or the whole world was. His vision was getting blurry.

A shape that looked like Cody walked closer to him and all it took was a push on his shoulder and Raven was falling onto the ground.

He was faintly clinging onto consciousness as he heard cheers and then the sound of too many guns cocking.

“Let’s get out of here!” Greer’s voice called out.

He heard the bikes drive off, more and more or them and he wasn’t sure what he hoped for. If they left him here he’d be sent to jail. If they took him with them… fuck. He’d fucked up. They were not going to keep him around as leader. If they took him with them, he was probably going to get more of a beating and either killed or left out in the street to die like some fucking roadkill.

He felt hands on his shoulders.

“I’ve got you, boss,” It was Greer. Greer was picking him up and placing him on the back of one of the bikes.

Fuck. He was fucked.

His bike was left behind because of course no one fucking thought he might need it. They knew he wouldn’t. He was so tempted to just let his body slide off onto the road before they reached the Battery, just slide off and lay there until someone found him, or he died. He didn’t really care which, right now. He tried to move, but Mikey’s hand was tight around his waist.

“Just making sure you don’t fall off, boss. Don’t want you getting any more hurt than you already are.”

Yeah, sure. That was fucking why. Because they were concerned. Not because they were going to take him back and use his limp body like a trophy to whoever knocked his teeth out first.

This was all his fault.

If Raven lived through the night he was going to hunt that man down.

Tom fucking Cody.

#streets of fire #raven shaddock #tom cody #yep a fandom with 3 fics to its name #mywriting #mine

2 notes · View notes

trek-tracks · 5 years

Note

A stage light fell on your head????

So…

Fourteen years ago, I was a teenager working as an intern for an abusive theatre company putting up a production of Midsummer Night’s Dream on a playground in a state park in NYC. It was abusive in many ways - the director would do things like a) cut your whopping $75/week stipend in half randomly when she felt like it, meaning that you might not even make your transit costs back if you lived a significant distance away, b) scream obscenities at you if you didn’t come back with enough donated loot for the gala silent auction after walking the streets for hours, or for such transgressions as not bringing an umbrella to work because the sky was blue when you left, and showing up slightly damp as a result, c) stand behind you as you brought up and down the sound for the 20 different body mics the actors were wearing; you had to turn up each mic a split second before the actor spoke and down as soon as the actor finished speaking to avoid picking up ambient noise. If you were a split second later than that, she would hit you on the back of the head.

The production was a really cool idea. It was Caribbean-inspired, and mixed professional actors with aspiring actors from the Harlem area. I loved a lot of the actors I worked with, the other interns, and even the company manager, though he wouldn’t stand up to the director at all. It was actually a good show, but the director treated the concept like something she had to do to fulfill a grant proposal item, rather than actually being interested in outreach and diversity.

Our lighting consisted of several Source Fours, lighting instruments that weigh around 15-20 pounds and are two feet long, which were attached to 15 or 20-foot-high shaky metal structures, which in turn were secured to nothing; the park would not let us touch any of the trees, so the lighting rigs were essentially held down with sandbags.

During the final week of rehearsal, my shift was about to end, when the skies darkened to an ominous red, and winds whipped up. The radar basically showed a wall of doom. It was clear that there was about to be one hell of a surprise summer storm, and we were right next to the river, which made it worse. Dust and debris were blowing around violently, but instead of allowing me to take cover, the director backed away to safety and shouted at me to protect the sound equipment. As I was trying to wrap up the sound board that was clearly more valuable than me, a human being, I heard a metallic clanging from behind me, and the next thing I knew, a giant stage light was smashing into the back of my head, with the metal rigging ripping down through my shirt, gouging into my back and pinning me to the earth. My glasses were nowhere to be found. I felt my jaw click out of place as I tried to shout for help. I was too stunned to form words.

There was an ambulance stationed at the park. I, along with our oldest actor who had been sliced in the forehead by a gel, was rushed to the hospital; I was trying desperately to maintain a stoic facade, but started crying in the ambulance, and was furious with myself. We showed up to the hospital at around the same time as what appeared to be the aftermath of a gang shootout. Once I got to a room, they shot staples into my head without anaesthetic and warned me about concussion.

The company manager, thank goodness, offered to drive me back to my campus where I was staying, because it was in another state, my shirt was ripped to hell, there was gauze down my back, and I couldn’t see straight. When I got back to campus, my boyfriend (now husband) was at least still there over the summer, so he could watch me for the night. I stopped in the campus convenience store to get something to eat after who knows how many hours with nothing (as a type 1 diabetic). We ran into a friend of ours who looked at me, ripped shirt, bandaged back, no glasses, staples in my head, blood in my hair and all, managed to MISS all of that, and said, “Hey, you look different. Did you dye your hair?” I had to laugh.

The theatre gave me one day off for my trouble. The director COMPLAINED about giving me the day off. The next day, when I returned, she had me walk around for hours in 95F+/35C degree heat with a head wound. They didn’t pay for the hospital bill. Luckily, my college financial aid office basically gasped in horror when I told them what had happened and how much money I had lost, and vastly increased my scholarship to make up for it. Five years later, I received a bill for the ambulance.

A little while after the incident, when it seemed like a fever dream, I was telling the story in detail at a fancy party; at least, I felt, I could trade on the story for entertainment value, considering how much it had cost me. I was laughing through the story like I normally did, when one of the people I was telling it to, a doctor I had just met, frowned, because he didn’t find it funny. He asked me if I realized that, if the light had hit me a couple of inches lower, I would very likely have been killed or paralyzed for life. It’s one of those “multiverse moments” - I know that, if multiple universes exist, there’s at least one without me in it; my life ended that day because I was less important than sound equipment.

As an adult, I now know the importance of workplace rights, and the organizations that give people the ability to stand up for themselves. I know what I didn’t then, which is that paying your dues should not equal potentially paying with your life, and just because a company is small, doesn’t mean they don’t have human responsibilities. Mostly, I know that every day since then has been a wonderful gift, and looking back so many years later, I am grateful for every one of them.

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theonyxpath · 5 years

Link

That illo, by Andrew Trabbold for Shunned By the Moon, the Werewolf: The Forsaken Night Horrors book, btw, is how my brain is right now.

It’s high pollen time right now here in the Spring on Macungie Mountain, and every thought I need seems to require being pulled out of a cotton candy wadding around my brain.

I am a zombie, koo koo kachew!

So, bear with me on this MMN blog. I’m going to keep it a tad shorter than usual – hey, stop cheering – and there might be more mis-typing. Don’t worry, I’ll leave corrections on Pg XX.

V5 Chicago By Night art by Michael Gaydos

That’s the Fuzzy in our blog Title today, now here’s some of the Social part: the last couple three weeks, you may have noticed that we were doing some damage control on the missing errata for our Scion books.

I wrote updates here on where things had progressed each week so there’d be a source of info and a curated space for that info to be processed. A fair number of backers wanted more info, or wanted what they wanted right away, and we really we not in a position to answer anyone’s questions until the team could try and figure out what happened.

I asked for patience, and explained why with what info we had upfront, and there were a lot of people who stood up and let everyone know that how we were handling things made sense to them.

Giant thanks to all of you!

Now, what I wanted to explain is really for the benefit of the people who tried to post their thoughts/questions in the blog comments section during this time but didn’t see them come up. There were a few nasty comments, and a few inquiring comments, and I had reasons for blocking both.

For those of you who were asking questions, who just wanted more answers than I had to give, I’m sorry you were shut down. I posted the comment in the first blog’s comment section and reiterated that I wasn’t going to engage on further questions in order to spend our time finding out what happened, so I hope you understand what predicated that decision, but still, I hope you’ll try and comment further in the future.

For those who wanted to post angry, nasty, comments…that’s not going to fly here. It’s not about your emotions, it’s about how they are expressed and whether it’s fair to allow one person’s feelings to upset and drive off other posters. Nasty posts might feel good to the poster, but they are awful to read, particularly if the reader isn’t here for Scion, but for the Contagion Chronicle, for example.

And I know that nastiness has this effect because after almost every time we ban someone from the forums because of a nasty series of posts, I get private messages from forumites whose forum names I’ve never read before to thank me, and usually explaining that they were afraid to post to that forum because of the virulence of that banned poster.

So there’s that. We want our community to feel good interacting with us and the rest of the community, and will curate our social media spaces to try and enable that.

Shunned By The Moon art by Leo Albiero

From the serious to the ridiculous: this week I’ll be sitting down for an interview with Dixie and Eddy, I think, as Matthew is visiting the Queen for their monthly pow-wow. It’s in celebration of the One Year Anniversary of the Onyx Pathcast!

Why, it’s hard to believe that just a year ago, three bright-eyed and eager young podcasters came to me with a crazy idea – why couldn’t they do an Onyx Path focused one?

Why not indeed? In fact, they could! And it’s really, really good!

We’re so glad that folks have kept listening and supporting it, so I’m sure we’ll talk about that. If any of you have questions you’d like them to ask me – or you’d like me to ask them! – please pop the questions into the comments section below.

With that, I’m talking my pollen-addled brain and shuffling away. Somewhere in there, I’ll be musing all about our:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

KICKSTARTER:

Our next Kickstarter starting in a couple of weeks will be for Pirates of Pugmire!

ONYX PATH MEDIA

Illustration by Charles Bates

On this Friday’s Onyx Pathcast the gang interviews John Burke, a man with a huge accent and writing talent to match: https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

And Here’s More Media About Our Worlds:

The Onyx Path News last week was broadcast live (which seemed to go down well with the viewers!) and can be found here: https://youtu.be/Qny9awhqVzc

Here’s episode six of our Contagion Chronicle actual play, as the protagonists stumble upon a Beshilu nest: https://youtu.be/ozp5TO3h5Lw

In case you missed it, the Story Told Podcast reached episode four of their Dragon-Blooded actual play: https://thestorytold.libsyn.com/

The ever-wonderful Devil’s Luck Gaming have moved on to a Chronicles of Darkness story! Please do check them out: https://www.twitch.tv/DevilsLuckGaming

Red Moon Roleplaying continue their Scarred Lands campaign, the Great Vilhaim Heist, run by Matthew Dawkins: https://www.redmoonroleplaying.com/podcast

Occultists Anonymous’ Mage: The Awakening chronicle continues apace and can be found right here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLh4mWsf86RuXzrrY_oHyjU4DdtE4MNsv2

And here’s the Dramatic Failure Podcast‘s Geist: The Sin-Eaters chronicle for your dark enjoyment: https://dramaticfailure.podbean.com/

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

ELECTRONIC GAMING:

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is now live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is both rolling and rocking!

Here’s an update from the App devs:

We’ve been having trouble fixing the android bug that messes up the resolution for newer phones. I think we have a fix for that. It was also brought up that the store display is wrong on most tablet devices, so that is getting fixed too. That should all be soon!

ON AMAZON AND BARNES & NOBLE:

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue you bought it from. Reviews really, really help us with getting folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

OUR SALES PARTNERS:

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the Screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio 2: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can now order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/manufacturers.php?manufacturerid=296

DRIVETHRURPG.COM:

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, we’ll be dealing out the Scarred Lands 5e Spell Cards!

CONVENTIONS

UK Games Expo: May 31st – June 2nd From the US comes Eddy Webb, Matt McElroy, and Rich Thomas to join with Matthew Dawkins, Steffie de Vann, John Burke, Chris Allen, and Klara Herbol! Gen Con: August 1st – August 4th Save Against Fear: Oct 12-14 GameHoleCon: October 31st – November 3rd We’ll also be back at PAX Unplugged later this year.

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM FAST EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Geist2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Wraith20 Fiction Anthology (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Redlines

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

DR:E Threat Guide (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

TC: Aeon Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

DR:E Jumpstart (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

Second Draft

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Let The Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Chicago Folio/Dossier (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Blood Sea: Crimson Abyss for 5e (Scarred Lands)

TC: Aeon Ready Made Characters (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

Heroic Land Dwellers (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Development

Hunter: the Vigil 2e core (Hunter: the Vigil 2nd Edition)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Oak, Ash, and Thorn: Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Memento Mori: the GtSE 2e Companion (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Creatures of the World Bestiary (Scion 2nd Edition)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Manuscript Approval:

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Pirates of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Editing:

Spilled Blood (Vampire: The Requiem 2nd Edition)

CofD Dark Eras 2 (Chronicles of Darkness)

Distant Worlds (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Scion Ready Made Characters (Scion 2nd Edition)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Post-Editing Development:

M20 Book of the Fallen (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

V5 Chicago By Night (Vampire: The Masquerade)

V5 Chicago By Night Screen (Vampire: The Masquerade)

CofD Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Witch-Queen of the Shadowed Citadel (Cavaliers of Mars)

Indexing:

Trinity Core

Trinity Aeon

ART DIRECTION FROM MIRTHFUL MIKE:

In Art Direction

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

Chicago By Night

They Came From Beneath the Sea!

EX3 Lunars

Hunter: The Vigil 2

Contagion Chronicle

VtR Spilled Blood – Contracted.

M20 Book of the Fallen

Dark Eras 2 – All sorted, I think.

CoM – Witch Queen of the Shadowed Citadel – Mr Pride working on these right now.

Pirates of Pugmire – KS art contracted, sketches and finals coming in.

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant – KS art started contracting.

Scion Ready Made Characters – getting artist on these.

Marketing Stuff

In Layout

Dystopia Rising: Evolution – With Josh.

Shunned By the Moon

Scion Jumpstart

Trinity Continuum Core – Index is in.

Proofing

The Realm

Book of Oblivion – Inputting last corrections.

Signs of Sorcery – Dev comments back to layout.

Aeon Aexpansion

C20 Cup of Dreams Novel

At Press

Scion Hero – Shipping to backers, PoD proof ordered.

Scion Origin – Shipping to backers, PoD proof ordered.

Scion Dice – Shipping to backers.

Scion Screen – Shipping to backers.

Fetch Quest – Waiting for PoD proofs.

In Media Res – PDF out to backers, gathering errata with new sheet.

Geist 2e – PDF out to backers, gathering errata with new sheet.

Scarred Lands Spell Cards – On Sale this Wednesday.

Adventures for Curious Cats – PoD files uploaded.

Tales of Excellent Cats – PoD files uploaded.

Dragon-Blooded – Deluxe at printer. Signed off of Press Proofs.

Dragon-Blooded Screen – At printer.

Trinity Core and Aeon Screens – Files at printer.

TODAY’S REASON TO CELEBRATE:

Yesterday was Cinco De Mayo. And the day before was May the Fourth be With You Day, and May 1st was May Day… so today, maybe we celebrate not celebrating.

#Onyx Path Publishing

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armytae18 · 6 years

Text

The Past and The Present

Possible love triangle series: rating- mature

Word count: 2314

Chapter7

------

Jungkook's POV:

I woke up next to Taehyung who was still sleeping, I ruffled my messy red locks. I smiled looking down as his sleepy face, he reminded me of a cute like puppy but sadly I didn't always love him. When I was younger I didn't think I'd ever find my mate at all and that scared me. I ended up falling in love with Jimin. I didn't know if it was because he was the future leader of the group or if it was because he was just hella sexy.

~ Flashback~

I watched from the gardens as Jimin walked by his father's side as he showed him around the castle and the multiple responsibilities he would have later once he grew up. Jimin glanced over to where I was standing with his piercing hazel eyes. I felt so nervous that my stomach was filling with butterflies. Not knowing what to do I waved at him but he didn't wave back he just smirked and continued walking with his dad.

'Did he just smirk at me?' I thought blushing so I walked back to my room with that question on my mind. I laid in bed checking my phone to see if anything interesting was happening. 'I doubt Jimin would like me. He doesn't seem to be gay, I found out when I was 14, I went on a date with a girl and she tried kissing my cheek and I felt grossed out. I just left her there, now I regret doing that too her. I turned my phone off and went to bed.

~A 6 months later~

My dad told me I had to go to this thing for young vampires like me. It was a coming of age type party. "Do I have to go dad?" I asked, I didn't want to go because I knew I didn't get along with any of the other vampires. "Yes son you have too. You're my only son and you're at the age where you find your mate. This is the best event to kickstart the search." He informed me as he fixed my tie. I signed upset and looked at myself in the mirror. I was in a black tux with a red tie, my black hair was slicked up.

-skip to the event-

It's been 2 hours at this party and I was getting bored of it all. I had so many girls try to flirt with me and get in my pants. I rolled my eyes going to the bar to get something to drink. "Do you have anything other than alcohol?" I asked the bartender and he shook his head. "I guess I'll just take a jack and Coke but not a lot of Jack please." I said as he whips up my drink. I hear shoes clicked behind me and I turn around to see Jimin. "Hey Jeon." He said with a straight face. "O-Oh hey Jimin." I said stuttering so I cleared my throat. Hey smirked then ordered a drink as well, a stronger drink than what I was having.

After a few drink I noticed I'm a light weight compare to Jimin, crap. On my 4th drink I started smelling the sweetest of bloods and I knew then that meant my mate was close by. Was it Jimin? Was he actually gay? I looked towards him but I noticed it couldn't be his blood.

"H-hey is anyone sitting here?" A small and nervous voice asked I turned around and that's when it hit me. He was my mate. A small petite man with light brown hair and big doe like eyes and very pink, big lips. I knew I was too long because his figure starting shifting in place. "Y-Yes, sorry you can sit." He sheepishly smiles and sits down by this time I realized Jimin was gone. "I didn't introduce myself, I'm Kim Taehyung." He said cheerfully. "My name is Jeon Jungkook." I responded taking a sip of my drink. "So I guess you can feel the pull?" He asked, I noticed his hands rolled into fists resting on his thighs and he nervously moved them back and forth.

"Yeah I do. I never thought I'd find my mate." I chuckled and he looked towards me nodding in agreement. "Me too." He confesses his blush reaching the tips of his ears. "Why don't we blow this boring party." I suggested. "But where would we go?" He asked shocked. "I have a place in mind." I smiled holding my hand out, he smiled back at me and grabbed my hand. I led him to my car and drove towards a waterfall. "This is where I go when I need space or clear my mind." "It's beautiful." He smiles going towards the edge to look how far it goes. I reach out and grab his hand pulling him into my chest. "Please be careful I don't want you to die." I state and he looked up at me blushing. He's beautiful brown eyes shimmering under the stars, I couldn't resist but lean over and kiss him. He responded and kissed me back wrapping his arms around my neck.

~End of flashback~

And that's how it all went down, I think about 2 months into our relationship I still had a think for Jimin but it slowly faded the more I started being with Taehyung, my beautiful doe eyed mate.

Nala's POV

After Hoseok and (y/n) graduated I started getting bullied a lot. This was the harsh reality I had to live but I meet Brittany who transfered all the way from England. She saved me from the bullies then they tried to bully her as well but they quickly realized Britt is not a bitch to be fucking with, she knew every kind of self defense moves out there and she was also a black belt.

I sat on the toliet seat hiding from my bullies. Today Britt was out sick and of course it's a Monday and the bitches that tortured me found out and they ganged up on me. Currently I had blood all over my face, a bruise was started to show on my check and arms. Silent tears rolled down my face mixing with the blood. "Brittany." I quietly cried but I shouldn't call her she's sick.

I decided to go home and skip the rest of school today, I couldn't deal with the pain and I didn't want anyone else to see me like this. I walked home on the long strip of road that lead to my neighborhood not too far from this hell hole called school. "Hey, do you need a ride?" I ignored the voice thinking it was one of those weird men wanting to have sex with young girls. "Nala, are you okay?" I recognized the voice immediately this time. "Mrs. Tran." I turned around seeing her in the passenger seat and her husband in the driver's seat. "What happened to your face?" She asked in shock getting out of the car. I felt tears pricking my eyes again as I hug her tightly and she began petting my head softly. "Come let's get her home and treated." Mr. Tran said opening the back door and letting me in as they both got into the car and drove to their house which was right across the street from my house. My mom wasn't home so they had to treat my wounds at their place.

"Would you like to explain to me what happened to your face?" Mrs. Tran asked as she gently cleaned my cut on my cheered. "Promise not to tell my mom?" She nods and I explained everything to her. "Awe sweetie I'm sorry you have to go through that." She said hugging me. "Well are you hungry I can make you something to eat." Mrs. Tran offered getting up. "That would be nice but I don't want to bother you anymore than I am not." I nervously rubbed my arm. "It's no trouble." She smiled warmly going into the kitchen to whip something up.

I waited patiently for my food and it was not long before she came back with a try filled with a croissant looking pastry. "It's a mini Apple pie. It may look like just a dessert but it fills you up surprisingly." She said reassuringly. "Thanks Mrs. Tran." I picked one up and took a bite, the crunchy but delicious taste of the Apple and the sweetness of the cinnamon. "Woah these are delicious." I ate two more. "Thank you. Im glad you like them." She grabbed one and ate it too.

We sat in comfortable silence when we heard a knock on the door. "I'll get it." Mr. Tran said as he opened the door grabbing the round handle. The door revealed my mother with a worried look. "Mom? How did you know I was here?" I asked standing up. "Ms. Foster said she saw you walking on the road with blood on your face." She explained hugging me. "Thank you Mr. And Mrs. Tran for taking care of her." My mother bowed in respect and we head out the door. I waved goodbye as my mom got into the car with me in the passenger seat.

A few days later I went back to school and went to my first period class and sat down at my desk when the rest of the class trickled in then the bell rang. "Hello class we have a new student to our school, please welcome Lee Taemin." The teacher introduced as a tall guy walks in. I've never seen someone so handsome, all the girls were drooling over him. He was a few inches short of 6 feet, with beautiful brown eyes and red streaks in his black hair. He was wearing his uniform tie loosely and looking like one of those bad boys mom and dad tells you to stay away from. I was so zoned out thinking about his looks that I realized what the teacher said. "There's an open seat next to (y/n)." He bows to the class and then walks towards me with long strides. "Hey sexy." Taemin smirks at me causing me to blush and cover my face with my bangs.

Around lunch time I sat alone at a small table eating my food quietly. Then I felt a sudden splash of water, my hair was drenched and water dripped from my face. I looked up and see the evil bitch who's been torturing me. "Really Ashley?!" I yelled. "What? I slipped, plus what are you going to do about it?" She asked smirking at me, I turned around and went back to eating. "I thought so." She snickered high fiving the other two girls with her. "Hey I suggest you leave her alone." A familiar voice said causing me to look towards the source. Lee Taemin. "Heyyy Taemin~" Ashley purred getting closer to him. "Get away from me skank." He almost growled at her causing her to get scared and step back. "Why are you standing up for her?!" She yelled pointing at my wet figure. "Because I don't find bullies attractive." He rolled his eyes as he said. "How dare you accuse me of that!" She was getting frustrated. "Get out of my sight." He demanded causing her and her posey to leave. "Hey you okay." He asked handing me a small hand towel. I nod my head. "Thank you, Lee Taemin." "Drop the formalities just call me Taemin." He said sitting next to me. "Arent you going to eat?" I noticed he did have food. "I already ate." He said staring at me.

From that day fort I had two protectors, Brittany and Lee Taemin.

------

Blackpink's story

"BLACKPINK!

Ah yeah, ay yeah!

BLACKPINK!

Ah yeah, ay yeah!"

On stage the girls perform their new single Ddu-du Ddu-du for their fans but things weren't always this great, they went through a big struggle to become idols.

-flashback-

"Hey Jennie we need to practice now." Rosé said the other two girls stretching and getting ready. "But I'm so tired just 10 minutes?" She asked. "No get up." Then Jisoo walks over. "Come on please Jennie, if we don't we'll never get the chance to debut." Jisoo whines trying aegyo on her. "But haven't we already debuted Unni? We have a buyable CD on iTunes." Jennie grumbles folding her arms together. "Jenny if you don't want to put in the work then you should leave." Lisa said angry. "Fine." Jennie got up and started stretching and they practice their dance for their upcoming new album square up.

-end flashback-

Every day they had our ups and downs, they shared tears, laughter, happiness and sadness but they made it together as a family.

At the end of the concert they all hugged in a circle as a silent tears rolled down their cheeks. They turned to the crowd and bowed, waving at the fans. "Thank you everyone so much for your support without you guys none of this would be possible." The crowd erupted into a loud scream as Lisa spoke. Finally they quiet down when suddenly they heard. "I LOVE YOU!" From a particularly loud fan causing them to smile and send finger hearts to everyone. "We love you too." Jennie smiled realizing how important it is for her to work in this group.

It was around this time that everything was aligned with each other. Jungkook's secret crush on Jimin, Nala being bullied then rescued by Taemin who she doesn't yet is a vampire, Jungkook finding the love of his life and finally Blackpink's struggle and success.

(This chapter again has nothing to do with the 3 main characters but it's a little back story on the supporting cast)

Chapter1 Chapter2 Chapter3 Chapter4 Chapter5 Chapter6 Chapter8 Chapter9

#h4bnetwork #jhope #jimin #jin #jungkook #rm #suga #vampire #bts #fantasy #werewolf #kim taehyung #jeon jungguk #park jimin #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #jeon hoseok #min yoongi

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glitchinthesystemspiderbyte · 6 years

Text

[41] Glitch in the System - Running Forward

By E.

A discussion of coping happens.

The blaring sound of an alarm pulled Sombra out of a deep, dreamless sleep into a very confusing and loud reality.

“Widow,” she said, rolling over and blearily smacking at the other woman’s face. “Widow.”

The spider looked at her through her sharp golden eyes. “I am awake, Sombra.”

“Alarm’s going off.”

“Yes,” she replied. “That is what woke me up.”

“Oh,” Sombra said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Widow woke up with such clarity, in stark contrast to Sombra who emphatically did not, and it always took her an embarrassing few moments to catch up.

“Gabe?” she yawned, speaking through her internal connection to the Talon network. “Why is everything terrible?”

“Gas leak,” came the response from a voice that was decidedly not Gabriel’s. The soft brogue in Moira’s voice sounded strained, like a wire stretched too tight. “Please exit the building.”

“What did you do, Moira?” Sombra asked, fatigue fleeing her body at the potential of there being an actual threat at hand.

“There was a mishap,” she replied, voice flat. “In the lab.”

“A mishap?”

“Please exit the building, Sombra,” was Moira’s deadpan response, and the connection was broken.

“Explain?” Widowmaker said, already out of bed and getting dressed.

“Get the cat and meet me on the roof,” she said. “Moira broke something.”

It was chilly outside, and Sombra made liberal use of the thermal heating upgrades Widow had installed in her jacket for the holidays. Toulouse seemed fine swaddled in blankets in his carrier, and Widowmaker was the same sentient icicle as always.

“Not cold?” Sombra asked, just to make sure.

“I don’t even feel it,” was Widowmaker’s casual reply. Sombra rolled her eyes, setting Toulouse down in an alcove out of the light breeze before placing herself beside him, cross-legged on the cold stone.

“I wonder what happened?” Widow mused, sniffing at the air. She peered over the edge of the roof to see Akande frantically waving at someone on the inside, and they heard the sounds of windows being opened one by one.

“Probably some horrific experiment. Here’s hoping the building doesn’t blow up,” Sombra groaned.

“Coming to the roof was your idea,” Widowmaker said, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, well, I’ll risk considerable physical injury to avoid having to deal with Moira while she’s flustered.” She patted the space beside her. “C’mere. Check this out,” she said, pulling her hands apart such that long, string-like slivers of light stretched out between her fingertips, flashing purple in the dwindling light. Twisting her fingers, she flipped her hands around, manipulating them like physical objects until she turned the strands of light into what looked like a small, much less detailed replica of the Eiffel Tower.

“Are you playing string games with hard light?” Widowmaker asked, amusement edging her voice.

“Come here,” she said again, gesturing with her head. Widowmaker obliged, sitting down beside her and looking in her direction quizzically.

“Take ‘em,” she said, holding it out.

“Where?” Widow asked, confounded at the request.

Sombra rolled her eyes. The sniper’s occasional befuddlement at the simplest of things was a constant source of amusement for her. “Here. Right in the center,” she said, and four of the strings flashed brightly. “Pinch them.”

Widowmaker, reached out daintily, stopping just short of committing. “These?”

“Didn’t you play string games as a kid?” Sombra asked, laughing.

“I did not play games,” she said, frowning. Leaning forward slowly, she closed her fingers against the light.

“Of course you didn’t,” Sombra sighed. “Now - pull.”

Widowmaker did as she was told, and when she opened her hands, the light created a latticework ladder between her hands. She frowned, holding it above her head, peering beneath the glowing strands as if to locate some trap or mystery she couldn’t see from the top.

“What did you do?” she asked, flexing her hands. The light danced whimsically.

“Nothing, araña. It’s just clever manipulation of patterns.” Leaning forward, she pressed a finger against the center of the lattice. “Boop,” she said, and the light vanished into a shower of painless sparks. “I used to do this for the street kids, before I disappeared. They loved it. Thought I was some sort of magician.”

“It would not be too far from the truth,” Widowmaker replied, watching the remnants of the shattered light waft in the air until it flickered out.

“No magic, only tech,” Sombra replied, shrugging. “Frankly I felt more magical before all the upgrades. Back then was like pulling digital rabbits out of other people's’ hats. Now I’m the hat, and people just kind of give me their rabbits without realizing it.” She didn’t think back on her early years very often, although the memories were still sharp as knives.

“It is strange to think of you entertaining children,” Widow said, leaning back on her elbows and looking at the hacker.

Sombra laughed. “I love kids. Blank slates.”

“You’ve mentioned.”

“Also capable of accepting more than most adults. Kids are malleable, less judgemental, and bounce back faster. Especially kids who’ve seen some shit.” She shrugged. “I guess I empathize with that flexibility. I had to embrace it a lot myself.”

Widowmaker looked away, those golden eyes intense as always as she stared into space at some unknown point on the horizon. “You do not speak much about your childhood.”

“There’s not much to know”

“I find that unlikely.” Widowmaker paused, and Sombra could tell there was a knot of words sticking in her throat that she was doing her best to untangle before speaking them. “It is just that there is this large blank spot that I do not know about you.” She turned her head, her expression neutral, positing a request Sombra hadn’t prepared herself for. “I would like to, perhaps.”

“Oh,” Sombra replied, the lighthearted nature of their rooftop getaway fizzling like dust in a breeze before her. “It’s a common enough story: young girl watches parents be murdered by rogue omnics, survives with a wild band of other orphans until city gang notes her talents and takes her in.” She held her hands up as though displaying a billboard. “You know - the usual stuff.”

Widowmaker chuckled lightly. “There is nothing normal about you, cherie,” she said, kissing the top of her head.

“You’re so sweet,” Sombra said, grinning back.

“Do you, ah,” Widow continued, stretching her legs out restlessly before her, “remember your parents?”

Sombra tilted her head slightly. “Of course. In vivid detail. My mother used to sing me lullabies to help me sleep. I always had trouble, you know - too many thoughts, not enough time to get them out during the day.” Laughing, she pressed herself closer to Widowmaker, nuzzling her cheek into her shoulder. “Sometimes I wonder if she’d be proud of who I’ve become.”

Widowmaker looked at her expectantly, not offering an opinion in the matter.

“Probably not,” Sombra eventually followed up on her own. “She was terrified of technology. Ironic, really, considering how she and dad died.” She felt her voice falter a bit as she spoke, a wave of unexpected emotion pressing against her throat unbidden.

“You sound as though you miss them,” the sniper said, sounding a trifle awkward as she picked her words.

Sombra shrugged. “Of course I miss them. I - their death stayed with me for so long. Weighed on me like a lead blanket; kept me warm on cold nights spent huddled on the streets with the other orphans. We’d all lost so much, you know?” She looked up at the sky, the sun shining out from behind a cloud, basking them in its warmth even as the air around them was chilled. “Some of us let it destroy us,” she said, running a hand idly through her hair. “A lot of my friends just sort of dried up slowly.”

“Not you, though,” Widow said, brushing her fingertips lightly against the back of Sombra’s arm.

Sombra shrugged a shoulder. “I guess I just figured, if my life was going to be destroyed, then I wanted to rebuild it how I wanted. I needed something to control, and the only thing I really could reliably was myself. I let the loss drive me; push me forward until I was running.”

Reaching over, she undid the lock from Toulouse’s carrier. Widow made a halfhearted attempt at stopping her, but the big tom pushed his way out of the crate and directly into Sombra’s lap with little resistance. Sombra ran her hand along his fur, feeling the comforting rumble of his chest against her palm. “At first it felt a lot like I was running away from the past, but at some point I realized I’d started running towards the future.” It was a thing she’d not given much thought to over the years, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized how true it was.. “I guess I haven’t really stopped running yet.”

“I am...sorry,” Widow said, reaching a tentative hand out to comfort her. Sombra felt her palm settle between her shoulder blades and smiled.

“It’s not a big deal. I like being in motion.”

Widowmaker stared at her, struggling with something. “You do not seem to be a creature of struggle,” she said, then blanched slightly. “I did not mean that as...I do not mean to dismiss your experiences.” She pursed her lips, eyes narrowed as she sought out the proper words for what she was trying to say. Sombra waited, patient as ever, for her to settle on them. “I just mean that you do not wear your trauma. Not the way Gabriel and...I do.”

Sombra looked curiously up at Widow, seeing her in a new sort of light. She’d always struggled to understand how Widowmaker couldn’t use her experiences as fuel to push herself forward, to forge a way for herself in the world despite her pain. Now she considered that, while she’d started running to cope, Widowmaker had simply stood still.

“I wear it everyday, Widow. My trauma shaped me, sure - they’re experiences that made me who I am today. But I’m not my trauma, you know?” she said. “I was just there for it; I grew from it. It will always be a part of who I am, but,” she considered her words carefully for a long time. “But it informs who I am, not the other way around.”

“How do you reconcile your loss?” Widow asked, pointedly, and through the veil of some muted agony. “To press onward despite all that was done to you?”

Sombra frowned, thoughtfully, letting her mind wander back to some of the memories she had held onto over the years. “I had a cat, once, when I was very young. My father got him for me as a birthday present.” She reached down and scratched behind Toulouse’s ears, smiling as he pressed his head against her palm. “I loved that cat more than anything else in my life. More than my computer, more than my friends, hell,” she looked up, “more than my parents sometimes, it felt like.”

“The start to this story makes me very nervous,” Widowmaker said, using one finger to scritch Toulouse under his chin. He purred louder and lifted his chin up, eyes closed.

Sombra smirked. “A year after I got him, he escaped the house and got hit by a car, right in front of my eyes. I was a wreck - inconsolable for days after. I wouldn’t let anyone in my room and I barely ate.”

Widowmaker squeezed her hand underneath Toulouse’s rumbling belly. “What happened?” she asked gently.

“Well, eventually I’d cried myself into silence, and stopped treating my parents like the bad guys. My dad came in with my favorite meal -”

“- sugary cereal?” Widowmaker interjected.

“Tamales, jerk,” Sombra laughed, bumping against her with her shoulder. “He brought me fresh tamales, set them down next to me, and said ‘Olivia, you will miss Manzanita for the rest of your life,’ and I looked at him like he was crazy until he continued. ‘But love is what gives loss its sting, which means that you will always have that love for him, too.’” Chuckling to herself, she shook her head. “I think that’s what really got me through it all, you know? The knowledge that, while I have lost more than most, it also means that I have loved more than most.”

Widowmaker watched her, mired in a deep silence that lasted well over a minute. Sombra couldn’t imagine what it was she was thinking - when it came to emotions, Widowmaker was either a fountain of confusion or a tight-lipped vault. Right now, though, she mostly seemed thoughtful, contemplative and, perhaps, a little sad.

“I am happy you had that solace,” she said, finally, raising a hand to brush her knuckles against Sombra’s cheek. “And I am pleased at the woman you have become.”

“Thanks spider,” she replied, grinning like an idiot.

“I do have to ask you something, though.”

“Shoot.”

Taking a deep breath, Widowmaker closed her eyes for one long, exasperated moment. “You named your cat Little Apple?”

Sombra laughed, shoving her playfully, interrupting Toulouse’s snooze. “Jerk,” she said. “Now hug me, I made myself sad.”

“I am here, cherie,” the sniper murmured against her ear, wrapping her arms around her and the black and white ball of fur in her lap. Listening to the occasional loud outburst from the yard below, they settled for a quiet afternoon of watching the clouds pass by until the mansion was ready for them to return.

*Read from the beginning or check out our intro post! All stories tagged under #glitchfic. Table of contents located here.

#spiderbyte #sombramaker #widowsombra #sombra x widowmaker #widowmaker x sombra #sombra #olivia colomar #widowmaker #amélie lacroix #amelie lacroix #overwatch #overwatch fanfic #overwatch fandom #overwatch fic #glitch in the system #glitchfic

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vicandsade · 4 years

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1941-12-12 - Mr. Buller’s Christmas Gifts: (alternate titles: 34 Christmas Gifts for $20, Christmas Shopping for Mr. Buller)

[See additional commentary at The Crazy World of Vic and Sade]

[hear the episode here or here]

We have three familiar Vic & Sade tropes here: 1) an episode whose structure seems to be an excuse for Paul Rhymer to make up a list of hilarious names and addresses; 2) one of Vic’s bosses making an egregious violation of boundaries; and 3) Christmas as a source of social strain. We also have a theme that is less commented, but is something I remember talking about with my grandma when I interviewed her about Vic & Sade: it’s a show from the 1940s, a time when women were relegated to a few traditional roles, but were slowly beginning to challenge them. It’s a show written primarily for an audience of women, who were the ones at home during the day listening. And, while it was written by a man, he seemed to understand so much about what women were experiencing.

If your news feed is even a little feministy, like mine, you may have heard that “Society is finally beginning to notice the issue of mental load, and the very gendered nature of it”. Well, here, all the way back in 1941, we have an episode that is all about the unacknowledged mental load -- or "women’s work,” as it might’ve been called back then. Also known as “lady stuff.”

SADE: Nuisance? It’s a lot more than just a nuisance. It’s a big mean job of work.

VIC: Well, I didn’t know, kiddo.

SADE: No, you never know. That’s the “man” of it.

VIC: Most trivial thing in the world. Handed me a wad of bills and said, “Gook, here’s twenty dollars. Next time the missus goes shoppin’, ask her to pick me up a few Christmas presents and mail them.”

SADE: Oh!

VIC: Well, that’s not much of a chore, is it?

SADE: I hafta pick out a buncha presents, wrap ‘em, address ‘em, mail ‘em, huh?

VIC: Well, I never thought anything about it, Sade. I imagined it was something you could maybe do in five minutes.

Mr. Buller is being really gross, Vic is being dense, and Sade is right to be wrathful. He shows a complete lack of awareness of a) what kinds of things his close relatives might like, b) how much stuff costs, c) how much time and effort and thought and personal knowledge Christmas shopping for this many people takes, d) and WRAPPING, e) and MAILING, f) and how much postage costs... This stuff isn’t trivial. And because Buller is unaware of what the work actually involves, he has not given Sade anywhere near enough information to complete the task well. Sade is supposed to know what to buy everyone based purely on their names and addresses, using her magical female brain, and be able to stretch $20 between 34 people (okay, so that’s about $350 in 2020 dollars, which sounds like a lot, but subtract a chunk for postage and you’re left with about ten bucks a person -- not nothing, but not much).

But Vic is a good guy. As soon as he sees how mad Sade is, he admits he’s wrong (“Okay. I’m a fathead.”), even though he still doesn’t quite understand why. As Sade asks him pointed questions and he realizes how little he’s thought this through, he begins to see what he’s gotten her into. At the end, they are a perfect team again: Vic volunteers to do the mailing and wrapping, and Sade, her mood improved by the pure ridiculousness of some of the names on Buller’s list, accepts Vic’s suggestion to just buy everyone handkerchiefs. Problem solved.

Also of note: this is apparently the first use of the name Ishigan (Hishigan?) Fishigan from Sishigan Michigan, who will come up frequently later on as a personal friend of Uncle Fletcher’s.

Transcript

ANNOUNCER: Well sir, it’s early evening as we enter the small house halfway up in the next block now, and here in the living room we find Mr. and Mrs. Victor Gook. Vic has apparently said something to upset his wife, because she’s regarding him wrathfully. Listen.

SADE: Nuisance? It’s a lot more than just a nuisance. It’s a big mean job of work.

VIC: Well, I didn’t know, kiddo.

SADE: No, you never know. That’s the “man” of it.

SADE: Oh!

VIC: Well, that’s not much of a chore, is it?

SADE: I hafta pick out a buncha presents, wrap ‘em, address ‘em, mail ‘em, huh?

VIC: Well, I never thought anything about it, Sade. I imagined it was something you could maybe do in five minutes.

SADE: Uh, that’s the “man” of it. I bet if somebody give you a bucket of paint and a brush and said “Next time the missus is down on Center Street, ask her to put a coupla coats of green paint on the People’s Bank Buildin’,” you’d take it.

VIC: Oh, hey! A ray of sunshine! Buller wants you to buy yourself a Christmas present. He’ll pay ya for your trouble.

SADE: What kind of a Christmas present?

VIC: Any kind you want, I guess. Take it out of the twenty dollars.

SADE: [disgusted] Oh, Vic.

VIC: Okay. I’m a fathead.

SADE: How many Christmas presents am I supposed to pick out?

VIC: I got a list here in my pocket.

SADE: Well, let’s see it.

VIC: Buller says, “I’m a bachelor, Gook. I don’t know what to buy for people. Think your missus’d help me out?”

SADE: Is that the list?

VIC: Yeah. Uh, “Mr. and Mis’ R.K. Lieferts, 1109 West Kilgore Avenue, Pittsburgh, Ohio.”

SADE: Well, who are Mr. and Mis’ R.K. Lieferts 1109 West Kilgore Avenue Pittsburgh Ohio?

VIC: I dunno.

SADE: Are they Mr. Buller’s cousins or uncles or in-laws or something?

VIC: [sheepish chuckle] I dunno.

SADE: What shall I buy for them?

VIC: Oh, heck.

SADE: How much shall I spend on them?

VIC: Well, have a heart, kiddo.

SADE: Read the next name.

VIC: If I’m to be tortured and made miserable over this, I’m almost tempted to take the job on myself.

SADE: [laughs] You go right ahead.

VIC: It don’t strike me as such a task, walkin’ in a department store and pickin’ up a few odds and ends.

SADE: Don’t it?

VIC: No.

SADE: Read the next name on the list.

VIC: Uh, “Cyril, May, Eugene, Agnes, Harry, and Edna Gooding, Rural Route 8, Minneapolis, Minnesota.”

SADE: Is that all one family?

VIC: I s’pose. All got the same last name, Gooding.

SADE: Are they children?

VIC: I dunno.

SADE: Does Mr. Buller want 'em each to have a separate present, or does he want just a single present for the whole outfit?

VIC: I expect you can use your own judgment on that. ‘Cause he says, “Tell the missus she’s a free agent, Gook. Won’t make the slightest difference to me what she picks out.”

SADE: Read off them names again.

VIC: “Cyril, May, Eugene, Agnes, Harry, and Edna Gooding.”

SADE: Six cigars, or shall I buy baby rattles?

VIC: Well, I imagine they’re children.

SADE: Do ya? What makes you imagine that?

VIC: They sound like children.

SADE: “Sound like”?

VIC: Oh, seven, maybe?

SADE: Brothers and sisters, you s’pose?

VIC: Yeah.

SADE: Six brothers and sisters, all age seven. Boy, there’s an outfit that’s got that Canadian family with their quintuplets backed off the map.

VIC: Send ‘em handkerchiefs. You can’t go wrong on handkerchiefs no matter what their age is.

SADE: Any others on your list?

VIC: Uh, quite a few more.

SADE: Uh.

VIC: “Mr. and Mis’ Margaret Gack, 218 South Union Boulevard, [Humphrey Sidin’], Michigan.”

SADE: Mr. and Mrs. Margaret Gack?

VIC: That’s what Buller’s got jotted down here.

SADE: Is the man’s name Margaret?

VIC: I presume.

SADE: What kind of a Christmas present would you pick out for a Mr. Margaret Gack?

VIC: Handkerchief.

SADE: Handkerchief for Mrs. Margaret Gack too?

VIC: Sure.

SADE: Oh.

VIC: “Miss Olive Soppers, 213,529 North Oak Street, Seattle, Iowa.” [quietly] That can’t be right...

SADE: Miss Olive Soppers lives at 213,529 North Oak Street.

VIC: [chuckles] That can’t be right.

SADE: Her home must be right near the edge of town.

VIC: Buller musta made a mistake.

SADE: When are you gonna see Buller again?

VIC: Sometime in January.

SADE: Oh.

VIC: “Cora, Mildred, Arnold, Alan, and Bertie Feech. Anderson, Wyoming.”

SADE: Brothers and sisters?

VIC: I imagine.

SADE: What age do they sound like?

VIC: Oh, heck, kiddo...

SADE: Twenty-two?

VIC: My handkerchief idea is a solution to this whole business. Everybody uses handkerchiefs.

SADE: Read me some more nice names.

VIC: Uhh, “Reverend Griswold J. Fix...Fix...” Holy smoke.

SADE: What’s the matter?

VIC: This name. I can’t pronounce it. F, I, X, O, L, M, H, T, H, R, Y. “Fixolmhthry,” I guess. “Reverend Griswold J. Fixolmhthry.”

SADE: Where does he live? Nineteen million six hundred and eight thousand four hundred and two West Grove Street?

VIC: Lives at 716 Creeper Boulevard, Yatchman, Texas.

SADE: Suppose he’d like a nice handkerchief?

VIC: Probably be charmed with a nice handkerchief.

SADE: Is that all the people?

VIC: No, uh... “Emmett Chindle, Jr. and Moses.”

SADE: Moses?

VIC: Yeah.

SADE: Who’s Moses?

VIC: Maybe his little boy.

SADE: Or his horse, or his dog, or his butler, or his uncle.

VIC: Well, it was awful sloppy, the way he jotted down these names.

SADE: Uh.

VIC: “Emmett Chindle, Jr. and Moses, Room 619, Indianapolis, Wisconsin.”

SADE: Room...619, Indianapolis, Wisconsin?

VIC: Yeah.

SADE: That’s some dandy address.

VIC: Emmett Chindle, Jr. and Moses probably live in some hotel and Buller carelessly forgot to put it down.

SADE: Uh-huh.

VIC: “Cyril, May, Eugene, Agnes, Harry, and Edna Jackson, Rural Route Ten, Funnel Orchard, Montana.”

SADE: Well, that’s the same outfit you read before.

VIC: Uh-uh.

SADE: Well, sure it is! Look up at the top of your list there.

VIC: Oh, uh...

SADE: Well, I remember those names.

VIC: Oh, no, by George!

SADE: Sure. Cyril, May, Eugene, Agnes, Harry...

VIC: Whoa, wait a minute. The people up at the top of the list are named Gooding. And they live in Minnesota. This other gang’s name is Jackson, and they live in Montana.

SADE: Both outfits got the same bunch of first names?

VIC: Yeah. “Cyril, May, Eugene, Agnes, Harry, and Edna Gooding. Rural Route 8, Minneapolis, Minnesota.” And down here, “Cyril, May, Eugene, Agnes, Harry, and Edna Jackson. Rural Route 10, Funnel Orchard, Montana.”

SADE: Quite a coincidence.

VIC: Yeah.

SADE: Any more nice people?

VIC: Uh, “Culvert C. Culvert, Culvert Culvert Company, Culvert Buildin’, 2126 Culvert Street, Culvert, Kentucky.”

SADE: Oh, come now!

VIC: No, that’s down here!

SADE: Let’s see once.

VIC: Hm. “Culvert C. Culvert, Culvert Culvert Company, Culvert Buildin’, 2126 Culvert Street, Culvert, Kentucky.”

SADE: [gasp] Hey, look at all those names!

VIC: Is quite a few.

SADE: How much money did Mr. Buller give ya?

VIC: Twenty dollars.

SADE: And outta that twenty dollars’ll hafta come postage and everything.

VIC: Well, twenty dollars oughta stretch out okay if you buy handkerchiefs. I should think twenty dollars would last--

[telephone rings]

SADE: Telephone’s ringin’, telephone’s ringin’. I’ll get it.

VIC: Fred and Ruthie.

SADE: Wouldn’t be surprised. Feel like five hundred?

VIC: Sure. “Mr. and Mrs. Joel Eggwalk, Wilkers, South Dakota.”

SADE: Suppose those people are all Mr. Buller’s relations?

VIC: I imagine a good many are.

SADE: [answers phone] Yes? Oh, yes, Fred! Just had an idea it was you. [pause] No, not a thing in the world. [pause] Why, I bet we’d jump at the chance. [pause] Sure. [pause] All right, Fred, we’ll be lookin’ for ya. [pause] You bet, Fred. You bet. [pause] Goodbye, Fred. [hangs up] He has to pump up a tire. They’ll be here in half an hour or so.

VIC: Uh-huh. Here’s some relations.

SADE: Uh?

VIC: “Glenn, Stover, Helen, Willis, and Farstaw Buller, 560 West Wilk Street, Mexico City, Connecticut.”

SADE: Hm.

VIC: Here’s the last name on the list.

SADE: Hm.

VIC: “Ishigan Fishigan, Sishigan, Michigan.”

SADE: [bursts out laughing] What?

VIC: [laughing] The fella’s name is Fishigan. First name is Ishigan. Lives in a town called Sishigan. It’s in Michigan.

SADE: [laughing] Oh, no!

VIC: [laughing] Yeah! Ishigan Fishigan, Sishigan, Michigan!

SADE: [laughing] Oh, my stars!

VIC: I’m glad to see your good humor’s restored, Sadie.

SADE: [laughing] Uh-huh. How many names on that list?

VIC: Uh, thirty-four. Can ya...get thirty-four good handkerchiefs for twenty bucks?

SADE: [still laughing] Oh, sure.

VIC: How much you estimate the postage’ll cost?

SADE: Oh, say five dollars.

VIC: Leaves fifteen dollars for handkerchiefs.

SADE: Uh-huh.

VIC: Well, that’s in the neighborhood of, uh...forty-five cents per handkerchief. Can ya get a pretty good grade handkerchief for forty-five cents?

SADE: Oh, get wonderful handkerchiefs for forty-five cents.

VIC: I’ll...handle the mailin’ and stuff.

SADE: All right.

VIC: I’ll help ya wrap the packages, too, if you’ll handle the addressin’.

SADE: [chuckles] All right.

VIC: I like to do favors for Buller, because after all, he’s a big shot in the company, and he can--

[telephone rings]

SADE: Telephone’s ringin’, telephone’s ringin’.

VIC: Eh. Good old “Kindly Keep Off The Grass,” “Never Look a Gift Horse In the Mouth,” trustworthy Bluetooth Johnson.

SADE: Bluetooth is with Rush down at the YMCA.

VIC: Hm.

SADE: [answers phone] Yes? [pause] Oh, yes, Fred. [pause] Oh, now, hey! [pause] No, but you’re always treating! [pause] Well, all right. [chuckles] If you wanna throw your lovely spondulix to the four winds. [to VIC] What flavor ice cream ya want?

VIC: Maple.

SADE: Why do you constantly say maple? You appreciate Fred despises maple.

VIC: Tutti frutti.

SADE: He despises tutti frutti also.

VIC: What don’t he despise?

SADE: Chocolate.

VIC: Okay. Chocolate.

SADE: [on phone] Fred? [pause] Vic is shoutin’ and screamin’ his head off clamorin’ for chocolate flavor. [pause] Yes. [pause] Yes. [pause] Fine. [pause] All righty, Fred. [pause] Goodbye. [hangs up] “Maple!”

VIC: Well, heck!

SADE: [giggles] How’s that young lady’s address there on Mr. Buller’s list that lives so far out?

VIC: Uh, “Miss Olive Soppers, 213,529 North Oak Street, Seattle, Iowa.”

SADE: [chuckles] And who are the people who live in the room?

VIC: “Emmett Chindle, Jr. and Moses, Room 619, Indianapolis, Wisconsin.”

SADE: [laughing] And the culvert fella?

VIC: “Culvert C. Culvert, Culvert Culvert Company, Culvert Building, 2126 Culvert Street, Culvert, Kentucky.”

SADE: [laughing] And the man that’s name and address and everything all rhyme?

VIC: “Mr. Ishigan Fishigan of Sishigan, Michigan.”

ANNOUNCER: Which concludes another brief interlude at that small house halfway up in the next block. But be sure to come along when we visit Vic and Sade the next time.

#vic and sade #vic & sade #victor gook #sade gook #rush gook #mr. buller #christmas presents #ishigan fishigan from sishigan michigan #bluetooth johnson #ymca

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christophervanhorn · 5 years

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Anti-theft hacks while traveling abroad

People always ask me, “But is it safe traveling abroad.”

Of course, it’s a valid question, whether you’re traveling to Mexico for a resort vacation, to Costa Rica with the family, or undertaking your first adventure all the way across the world in Thailand.

And, no matter where you are in the world – your hometown or far off in a foreign destination – you need to exercise common sense and basic awareness of your surroundings and situation.

So, how do I answer these nonstop inquiries about personal safety abroad?

First off, I flip that sh*t by asking them if it’s safe in THEIR country. Often, that means the U.S.A., which is met with a. curious response where they go to answer, pause, start thinking about school shootings, random muggings, and skyrocketing theft and violent crime, and they stutter as their whole worldview crumble right in front of my eyes.

I then comfort them by offering my humble opinion – that there’s generally two types of crime or harm that could come upon someone: random street crime or political/religious crime or terrorism.

Looking at the latter first, we always want to avoid countries, regions, and situations where you’re a target because of someone’s political, religious, or military ideology. This includes religious extremists, kidnappers, narco-traffickers etc. For instance, driving through Mexico as a couple of U.S. dudes is NOT smart – and certainly not adventurous. It’s just asking for trouble. Or, in the Philippines where I live, I know that in the far south, they love kidnapping white Americans and holding them hostage for ransom and then cutting their heads off anyways. So, I simply avoid those areas. I also wouldn’t go to North Korea on a vacation and start passing out bibles or stealing mementos. Get it?

However, no matter where you go in the world, you’ll face the possibility of being a target of street crime. Pickpocketing, car break-ins, mugging, scams, bag thefts, druggings, gang problems, shakedowns, and just about every other kind of grift known to man can and will go down at any time.

While there are areas of the world and certain countries that are more dangerous than others, it usually holds true that the bigger the city and the more impoverished the area, the more crime you’ll encounter. Also (unfortunately), the more tourists that are in an area, the higher the crime rate usually spikes because there are people who come specifically to target those foreigners and visitors.

For instance, when I first moved to San Juan del Sur, Nicagarua in 2012, it was still a sleepy, close-knit local community where just about everyone knew each other, and therefore people were more or less held accountable. Of course, Nicaragua is dirt poor and has a violent past, but, once I got the lay of the land and met the locals and showed love and respect, it was all good. The same can be said of Cambodia, an insanely poor Southeast Asian nation that went through one of the worst genocides in history in the 1970s. Living there from 2013-2016 or so, I found that although people are desperately poor, it’s still a relatively safe place IF you exercise common sense and caution.

Of course, this is all just a generalization, and you never know when a random mugger or dude on drugs or hungry hotel thief or angry ex-boyfriend or any other calamity will cross your path.

So, I’ve come to follow these basic tips or hacks as I travel and live abroad, no matter where I am in the world. I genuinely believe they have helped keep me safe – and, I hope, will continue to do so! (Knock on wood.)

View this post on Instagram

The Manjuyod Sandbar, also called the Maldives of the Philippines, is only an hour away from – and one if its best-kept secrets!

A post shared by AllWorld.com (@allworldonline) on Nov 12, 2018 at 9:02am PST

1. The first safety tip may catch you unaware, and that’s because I’m urging you to batten down the hatches back home before you go travel. Whether you’re in a house or an apartment, being away on vacation or traveling for extended periods is the perfect time for opportunistic thieves (who are usually watching and casing you ahead of time) to rob your abode. We’ll cover more on this in another review, but make sure to go through all the necessary safety precautions, so you don’t come back to a house that’s been ransacked and emptied of valuables. 2. The vast majority of crimes perpetrated against you while traveling abroad are meant to part you from your possessions, not against your person, and usually entailing subterfuge and speed, not physical violence. Therefore, once you properly secure your things and shift your mindset to ALWAYS paying attention, you’ll be as safe as can be.

3. Start with luggage locks. Get the combination kind so you don’t have to worry about keys, and make sure they are TSA approved. Put these luggage locks on your big checked bag(s) of course, but also on your backpack compartment that holds anything valuable like a computer, passports, etc.

Pickpocketing and purse/backpack snatching are no joke when you’re abroad, and they operate with lightning speed and precision. But, if there’s a lock on it, you’ll deter nine out of every 10 would-be thieves.

4. I also put the things that are REALLY valuable like my wallet, passport etc. in a smaller, tucked away, or hidden pocket within my backpack, that has a zipper or Velcro hopefully. That way, if someone gets a quick reach into your bag or even slits it with a razor so they can reach inside, it will be way harder to get the stuff that really matters. You can even purchase a little zippered pouch and sew it to the inside of your backpack.

5. That being said, I also tie a brightly colored handkerchief, string, or whatever around my bags and my backpack to easily designate it as mine. Not only will you be able to see it easily on the luggage conveyor belt, but it will be more noticeable and draw a little more attention, which is also a psychological deterrent to thieves.

6. That being said, the moment you get to your hotel, put your wallet, credit cards, passport, computer if possible, and whatever else in the hotel safe. Why wouldn’t you?

7. But if you don’t have a safe, where should you hide stuff? You have to see it through the eyes of a hotel room thief who is probably sneaking in and scanning the room quickly for valuables before bolting before they get discovered. Therefore, I’ll put my laptop or valuables inside a pillowcase, high up on the top of the dresser or wardrobe above eye level, or the like. In a pinch, I’ll put my things inside the trash can, with the trash bag covering them. What thief would check the trash AND take the bag out?

8. You can wear one of those money belts if you want, but there’s an easier and more comfortable place to stash money or cards. I throw them in a Ziploc (in case I step in a puddle) and put them under the sole of my shoe.

9. Don’t tempt fate by wearing expensive jewelry, watches, while you’re abroad or carry designer purses, etc. You’re just asking for something to be snatched.

10. But, usually, I don’t feel I need that, although I do like having shorts or pants with zippered or button pockets, which really deters pickpockets.

11. If you rent a car, park someplace where there’s an attendant and tip them when you arrive – not when you leave. Make sure NOTHING is inside the car when you leave it, including the trunk to be safe.

12. Make copies of your passports, credit cards, passwords, travel documents, etc. and email them to yourself as a backup. Or, you can have a flash drive that you keep in the safe but make sure it’s password protected because those are so easy to lose.

13. Even better, have an encrypted storage app like KeepSafe, which allows you to house documents, passwords, photos, etc. on your phone but only accessible with a password login.

14. That being said, you should also turn on your FindMyPhone or Hidden or other device location apps when abroad.

15. Don’t go to the bank machine at night. Use ATMs inside hotel lobbies or malls, not out on the street.

16. If you’re ever in a taxi and find yourself in a position where you have to trust them, like if you’re running into a place to use the bathroom etc. while he waits, simply snap a photo of his (or her) taxi ID, and then the license plate outside. But take your backpack or handbag with your laptop, passports, cash, and cars, etc. with you at all times.

17. Speaking of that, get a good backpack with double zippers and attach those small TSA-approved luggage locks. Don’t put valuables in the front pocket where someone could access if they razor-bladed your bag.

18. Women need to be especially careful. Never accept drinks from men at bars. Don’t ever go alone or split up, and don’t go out on the beach at night in most places – that’s where a lot of bad things happen. Ask locals and staff if it’s safe. Actually, this applies to men, too.

19. Don’t charge things. Pay cash. While using a debit card or credit card is the norm in the U.S. or Canada, it’s not in many countries abroad, and it’s way too easy for someone to copy your signature, run a double receipt, or just get your card info. Seriously – it happens a lot.

20. Know local emergency numbers and your hotel’s number and program them into your phone. Make sure all family members have phones they can use. Get a cheap local prepaid phone if you don’t want to carry around expensive iPhones. Know where the hospital is located and carry medical information like any allergies, blood type, and insurance info.

You want to have fun while vacationing and traveling, and staying safe is essential for that mission! Keep your head up, stay aware, follow your instinct, and ask trusted locals to help you!

The post Anti-theft hacks while traveling abroad appeared first on AllWorld.com.

source https://www.allworld.com/anti-theft-hacks-while-traveling-abroad/ source https://allworldus.tumblr.com/post/181704241517

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shelleyrobbinsus · 5 years

Text

Anti-theft hacks while traveling abroad

People always ask me, âBut is it safe traveling abroad.â

Of course, itâs a valid question, whether youâre traveling to Mexico for a resort vacation, to Costa Rica with the family, or undertaking your first adventure all the way across the world in Thailand.

And, no matter where you are in the world â your hometown or far off in a foreign destination â you need to exercise common sense and basic awareness of your surroundings and situation.

So, how do I answer these nonstop inquiries about personal safety abroad?

First off, I flip that sh*t by asking them if itâs safe in THEIR country. Often, that means the U.S.A., which is met with a. curious response where they go to answer, pause, start thinking about school shootings, random muggings, and skyrocketing theft and violent crime, and they stutter as their whole worldview crumble right in front of my eyes.

I then comfort them by offering my humble opinion â that thereâs generally two types of crime or harm that could come upon someone: random street crime or political/religious crime or terrorism.

Looking at the latter first, we always want to avoid countries, regions, and situations where youâre a target because of someoneâs political, religious, or military ideology. This includes religious extremists, kidnappers, narco-traffickers etc. For instance, driving through Mexico as a couple of U.S. dudes is NOT smart â and certainly not adventurous. Itâs just asking for trouble. Or, in the Philippines where I live, I know that in the far south, they love kidnapping white Americans and holding them hostage for ransom and then cutting their heads off anyways. So, I simply avoid those areas. I also wouldnât go to North Korea on a vacation and start passing out bibles or stealing mementos. Get it?

However, no matter where you go in the world, youâll face the possibility of being a target of street crime. Pickpocketing, car break-ins, mugging, scams, bag thefts, druggings, gang problems, shakedowns, and just about every other kind of grift known to man can and will go down at any time.

While there are areas of the world and certain countries that are more dangerous than others, it usually holds true that the bigger the city and the more impoverished the area, the more crime youâll encounter. Also (unfortunately), the more tourists that are in an area, the higher the crime rate usually spikes because there are people who come specifically to target those foreigners and visitors.

For instance, when I first moved to San Juan del Sur, Nicagarua in 2012, it was still a sleepy, close-knit local community where just about everyone knew each other, and therefore people were more or less held accountable. Of course, Nicaragua is dirt poor and has a violent past, but, once I got the lay of the land and met the locals and showed love and respect, it was all good. The same can be said of Cambodia, an insanely poor Southeast Asian nation that went through one of the worst genocides in history in the 1970s. Living there from 2013-2016 or so, I found that although people are desperately poor, itâs still a relatively safe place IF you exercise common sense and caution.

Of course, this is all just a generalization, and you never know when a random mugger or dude on drugs or hungry hotel thief or angry ex-boyfriend or any other calamity will cross your path.

So, Iâve come to follow these basic tips or hacks as I travel and live abroad, no matter where I am in the world. I genuinely believe they have helped keep me safe â and, I hope, will continue to do so! (Knock on wood.)

View this post on Instagram

The Manjuyod Sandbar, also called the Maldives of the Philippines, is only an hour away from â and one if its best-kept secrets!

A post shared by AllWorld.com (@allworldonline) on Nov 12, 2018 at 9:02am PST

1. The first safety tip may catch you unaware, and thatâs because Iâm urging you to batten down the hatches back home before you go travel. Whether youâre in a house or an apartment, being away on vacation or traveling for extended periods is the perfect time for opportunistic thieves (who are usually watching and casing you ahead of time) to rob your abode. Weâll cover more on this in another review, but make sure to go through all the necessary safety precautions, so you donât come back to a house thatâs been ransacked and emptied of valuables. 2. The vast majority of crimes perpetrated against you while traveling abroad are meant to part you from your possessions, not against your person, and usually entailing subterfuge and speed, not physical violence. Therefore, once you properly secure your things and shift your mindset to ALWAYS paying attention, youâll be as safe as can be.

3. Start with luggage locks. Get the combination kind so you donât have to worry about keys, and make sure they are TSA approved. Put these luggage locks on your big checked bag(s) of course, but also on your backpack compartment that holds anything valuable like a computer, passports, etc.

Pickpocketing and purse/backpack snatching are no joke when youâre abroad, and they operate with lightning speed and precision. But, if thereâs a lock on it, youâll deter nine out of every 10 would-be thieves.

6. That being said, the moment you get to your hotel, put your wallet, credit cards, passport, computer if possible, and whatever else in the hotel safe. Why wouldnât you?

7. But if you donât have a safe, where should you hide stuff? You have to see it through the eyes of a hotel room thief who is probably sneaking in and scanning the room quickly for valuables before bolting before they get discovered. Therefore, Iâll put my laptop or valuables inside a pillowcase, high up on the top of the dresser or wardrobe above eye level, or the like. In a pinch, Iâll put my things inside the trash can, with the trash bag covering them. What thief would check the trash AND take the bag out?

8. You can wear one of those money belts if you want, but thereâs an easier and more comfortable place to stash money or cards. I throw them in a Ziploc (in case I step in a puddle) and put them under the sole of my shoe.

9. Donât tempt fate by wearing expensive jewelry, watches, while youâre abroad or carry designer purses, etc. Youâre just asking for something to be snatched.

10. But, usually, I donât feel I need that, although I do like having shorts or pants with zippered or button pockets, which really deters pickpockets.

11. If you rent a car, park someplace where thereâs an attendant and tip them when you arrive â not when you leave. Make sure NOTHING is inside the car when you leave it, including the trunk to be safe.

12. Make copies of your passports, credit cards, passwords, travel documents, etc. and email them to yourself as a backup. Or, you can have a flash drive that you keep in the safe but make sure itâs password protected because those are so easy to lose.

13. Even better, have an encrypted storage app like KeepSafe, which allows you to house documents, passwords, photos, etc. on your phone but only accessible with a password login.

14. That being said, you should also turn on your FindMyPhone or Hidden or other device location apps when abroad.

15. Donât go to the bank machine at night. Use ATMs inside hotel lobbies or malls, not out on the street.

16. If youâre ever in a taxi and find yourself in a position where you have to trust them, like if youâre running into a place to use the bathroom etc. while he waits, simply snap a photo of his (or her) taxi ID, and then the license plate outside. But take your backpack or handbag with your laptop, passports, cash, and cars, etc. with you at all times.

17. Speaking of that, get a good backpack with double zippers and attach those small TSA-approved luggage locks. Donât put valuables in the front pocket where someone could access if they razor-bladed your bag.

18. Women need to be especially careful. Never accept drinks from men at bars. Donât ever go alone or split up, and donât go out on the beach at night in most places â thatâs where a lot of bad things happen. Ask locals and staff if itâs safe. Actually, this applies to men, too.

19. Donât charge things. Pay cash. While using a debit card or credit card is the norm in the U.S. or Canada, itâs not in many countries abroad, and itâs way too easy for someone to copy your signature, run a double receipt, or just get your card info. Seriously â it happens a lot.

20. Know local emergency numbers and your hotelâs number and program them into your phone. Make sure all family members have phones they can use. Get a cheap local prepaid phone if you donât want to carry around expensive iPhones. Know where the hospital is located and carry medical information like any allergies, blood type, and insurance info.

You want to have fun while vacationing and traveling, and staying safe is essential for that mission! Keep your head up, stay aware, follow your instinct, and ask trusted locals to help you!

The post Anti-theft hacks while traveling abroad appeared first on AllWorld.com.

Via https://www.allworld.com/anti-theft-hacks-while-traveling-abroad/

source http://allworldus.weebly.com/blog/anti-theft-hacks-while-traveling-abroad

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allworldus · 5 years