#employs her as an international smuggler

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Four Are Held Here In High-Grade Gold Smuggling Case," Windsor Star. February 22, 1943. Page 3 & 6. ---- Canadian and U.S. Police Co-Operate ---- SPRING TRAP AFTER TWO MONTHS OF WORK THOUSANDS IN PRECIOUS METAL IS RECOVERED --- By ANGUS MUNRO Bail of $5,000 cash or $10,000 property was fixed here this morning for each of four men charged with being members of a powerful gang of alleged high-grade gold smugglers.

The gang was rounded up and taken into custody after weeks of skilfully planned. perfectly executed police work on the part of federal authorities in Windsor, Toronto, Hamilton and Detroit.

Hunt Fifth Man Another member of the gang Windsor woman, wife of one of the men, is not being held now her identity rinsed by police. A fifth man is being sought in Detroit. Those held are:

Marke Lakich, 35, 1111 Albert

Michael Bich, 41, 775 81. Lake

George Birash. 47. 1366 Hickory

Sam Matijevich. 47, allas Sam Matheson, Hamilton.

All were arraigned before Magistrate J. Arthur Hanrahan in city police court this morning charged with at- tempting to export, or aiding and abetting the export of property from Canada to the United States without A licence from the Foreign Exchange

Bail Is Fixed

Only Malijevich was represented by counsel. Major J. Ernest Zeron, his lawyer, asked the court if bail could be allowed and after consultation with police, it was fixed at $5,000 cash or $10,000 property. The four were remanded a week. Purpose of the remand is to complete further investigations that are being made by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and Foreign Exchange and A. W. Anderson, RCMP whe appeared in court this morning along with Inspector W. Morphet of the Windsor office of the Foreign Exchange Ctrl Board, intimated that more serious charges are likey to be laid involving alleged conspiracy.

The four were locked up pending bail arrangements.

Industrial Workers The three Windsor men are on the payroll of industrial plants here while Matijevich has no known occupation. Matijevich was arrested by Hamilton authorities and brought to Windsor while the remaining three were taken into custody a week ago in an Ouelette avenue rooming-house where the police trap was sprung without a hitch. All are being detained in a downtown hotel under guard.

Not since the old rum-running days on the border have international enforcement officers worked more lovely nor more dramatically. For two months, night and day. movements of the gang have been carefully watched and records made of their every move and word. This was possible through one of the oldest yet most audacious forms of sleuthing known in police.

In constant touch with the gang and successfully passing himself off as one of them wan an unidentified special agent of the United States Treasury Department. Customs Division, who was known to the rest of the gang as Bill Brown. He it was who flashed thick rolls of bills in the faces of the gang and who met with them in hotel rooms and other points of rendezvous without once arousing their suspicions.

Perfect Come-on He was a perfect come-on. He cultivated the friendship of the gold handlers. He won their trust and led them, sheep-like, into the trap which ended their activities and may send them to prison.

Authorities here believe Windsor was about to become one of the main new channels for the export of high-grade,, about $3,000.800 worth of which is estimated to be taken illegally from the country annually after being stolen by miners of Ontario's gold mining north country. All the men taken here are known to have formerly lived in the north or have been employed by mining companies. The dramatic story of the grand round-up in Windsor was given to The Star by Inspector W. M. Morphet of the Windsor inspectorate of the Foreign Exchange Control board. It was confirmed by Staff-Sergeant A. W Anderson of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. The entire staff of both these offices have been devoted to the single purpose of gathering evidence, shadowing, trailing and checking movements of the men, watching trains hotel rooms, prate residences rooming houses, tunnel buses to Detroit, private cars and SW and A. buses. The gang and the Mounties in plain clothes moved in and with the city shopping crowds unnoticed.

Separate Rooms So careful were the authorities in avoiding publicity that separate rooms were engaged at the hotel where the men were kept under observation. No telephone calls were permitted to get through and only enforcement officers were permitted to visit the rooms.

The grand finale in the combined activities of United States and Canadian authorities came last Monday, February 13 when the actual gold was to be turned over in the Ouellette avenue rooming house in the men who were to smuggle it across to Detroit.

Gold sells for $38.50 an ounce in Canadian money in Detroit. On that basis the haul made last Monday amounted to nearly $3.000. A previous captured of gold was made in Detroit after it had left Canada. Ia value was $1.36732

While other gold seizures have been made in Canada's wartime history, they have been made only after the gold was out of the country and authorities had to work backwards from the U.S. side after the evidence had been seized by authorities there. Last Monday's climactic seizure was made before the gold left Canada. Here's how it happened.

Story of Seizure While the owners of the rooming-house and members of the family locked themselves in in upstairs room lest there be any shooting or roughhouse tactics, authorities engaged adjacent rooms on the ground floor of the house . In one of these the deal was to take place and the money passed over. In the other room were to be Inspector Morphet, Corporal R. L. Woodhouse and Constable J. M. Gallinger of the R.C.M.P. Allowing sufficient time for the money to produced and handed ever, the offices were at a given signal to enter and make the arrest. The plan worked perfectly.

The gang moved with caution. One of their number came on ahead to the house to scout the layout, Bill Brown, who was to buy the gold, posing as a member of the gang, said everything was okay.

Shortly after, the officers say, along came Lekich, Billich and Birush, one of them carrying the gold. (Matijevich was not in on this deal, but had been picked up in Hamilton on evidence arising from an earlier transaction.)

The gang talked for a while and finnally a deal was agreed on. Lekich and Birush were to take the gold w and Brown was to await a telephone call from Detroit stating that the gold had arrived before he would pay over the money. In "Button" Form The gold was in the form of a "button" or thick heavy slab the shape of the bottom of a small crucible. There were two of the one large one weighing 76 ounces and one small weighing eight ounces. They fitted tote a suit pocket without difficulty. Assays since given the seized gold proclaim it to be the equal of the finest produced in this country.

It was planned that the smuggling should be done in a car but the car wouldn't start and Birush returned to the rooming house while Lekich and the look-out man who had scouted the rooming-house made the trip in the tunnel en route to Detroit.

At the tunnel, both Leklch and the unidentified man were search ed. The gold was dienvered in Lekich's pin but as nothing was found on the other man, he was permitted to continue on through

Constable John T. Townsend and, Constable Walton Routledge. who picked Lekich up at the tunnel explained that they waited until he had passed the customs inspection and had declared himself not to have in his possession any property which should be declared. He was arrested just as he about to step in the Detroit bound bus.

Awaited Call Back at the rooming house, Brown and the others were awaiting the call from Detroit. This name but not from Detroit. This came but not from Detroit. Constable Townsend telephoned Brown from the F.E.C.B. office, stating that Lekich was in custody. This was according to plan. When Brown heard Townsend's voice he knew everything had gone as sched- suled, so he turned to the others and said that the gold had arrived in Detroit and that he was now about to pay them. He began to count out the bills. This was the signal for the others in the adjacent room. A minute or two elapsed until Bijlich and Birush had picked up handfuls of the bills. Then Inspector Morphet and the two officers stepped in through a communicating door and swiftly and efficiently Corporal Woodhouse snapped on the cuffs.

The gang had demanded to see the color of Brown's money before they would deal, so it was necessary to get $3,000 in Canadian funds to be used as come-on money. Authority was given to borrow it from a Windsor bank for this purpose, but it was an anxious time for Inspector Morphet and Staff-Sergeant Anderson while the money was in the hands of the gang. They were considerably relieved when it was taken back from Bijlich and Birush.

Throughout the entire period the assistance rendered by Brown was invaluable to authorities here. It was Brown who figured in an earlier deal 6 in which $1,000 of U. S. money was used to purchase gold in Windsor. The bills were marked and their numbers watched for in Windsor banks.

Wanted Bigger Game It was this deal which Lekich first figured in also. Because it involved a small amount, it was permitted to pass without interference, although under supervision because the authorities wanted bigger game.

Brown at that time flashed a roll of bills and said that he was not interested in "peanuts," he wanted "big stuff." At the sight of the money, he was promised a shipment of 300 ounces. The haul last week was far from that, but it was the largest so far attempted by the gang. It is belleved now that their scheme is nipped in the bud, although investigations are continuing and others may be shortly involved.

R. C. M. P. offices and Foreign Exchange authorities in half a dozen Ontario centres must be given a share of the credit for rounding up the gang. These offices are still hot on the trail. Two men are at present being held in Northern Ontario and others under suspicion. Their parts in the widespread, newly-organized ring, may be revealed within days if present investigations are successful.

More Important Even more important than these developments is the possibility that arising out of the present investigations may come evidence which will be strong enough to show conspiracy to commit an indictable offence. Under the charge now pending there are penalties provided rising to as much as $5,000 fine or five years in prison or both, upon conviction.

Breaking the gang and scattering its members before they even got going has been possible only through the most tenacious type of police work. The Windsor detachment, R.C.M.P., the largest in Canada, by the way, has employed all its members. A small army of officialdom and staff members of other federal agencies from top men down to stenographers have played their parts.

Particularly active have been Inspector Morphet, whose days and nights for the past eight weeks have been full of the details of the investigation, often incurring the duty of remaining up an entire night or working far into the small hours of the morning. Supervising the widely spread police net, Staff-Sergeant Anderson has had his finger on all the multiple duties of his men besides carefully watching the procedure of the case investigations in other centres. A tremendous share of the R. C. M. P. work has devolved upon Constable John T. Townsend and his chief paid tribute to him and his fellow officers in announcing the part the force has played in the case.

Praises Constable "They have devoted themselves unstintingly to their jobs," he said. "I cannot commend them too highly. I believe that Constable Townsend has done an especially good job."

Both department heads-Inspector Morphet and Staff Sergeant Anderson -were lavish in their tribute to the United States authorities.

"It was the most encouraging example we have ever had of international co-operation," Mr. Morphet sald in speaking of the parts played by U. S. officers. He mentioned United States customs supervising agent Charles Wyatt, U. S. Secret Service chief George Boos, Captain Joseph O'Rourke of the U. S. customs border patrol and their staffs. In the work on the Canadian side he spoke of the co-operation given by collector of customs Thomas Clark in Windsor and Inspector William McKee, special investigator of the F.EC.B. in Toronto.

Names Officers To the entire staff of R.C.M.P. officers here, he paid sincere tribute,naming: Constables C. A. Lazelle, Walton Routledge, J. M. Gallinger, D. C. McCannell, Corporal R. L. Woodhouse, his own enforcement inspector George McGonigal and Corporal W. E. L. McElhone, attached to the F. E. C. B. in Toronto, He also had a word for the girls who have worked nights and Sundays preparing the necessary documents in connection with the case. Two of those he especially mentioned are Mrs. Margaret Campbell and Miss Winifred Hubbard.

The men rounded up, with two exceptions, have no known criminal records, but all have formerly been connected in some way with mining and are familiar with the process of high-grading. Matijevich faced a charge of unlawfully wounding another man in February 1940, but the case was dismissed for lack of evidence. Bijlich, according to police, has served two years for high-grading.

The crime is as old as mining itself.Ever since man has dug in the ground for precious minerals, the temptation to get some of the easy wealth for himself has been present. The episode on the Windsor border is the end of a long trail that leads back to the mines of the north country.

Big Profit in Racket The immense profit in the racket is what causes an ever-increasing number of men who labor in the mines to take the chance of sneaking out a spare piece of ore. It must be an especially rare bit or it isn't worth the risk, but many such pieces are found in Ontario's rich gold country.

While following his ordinary job, a miner will suddenly come upon a chunk of ore that has the unmistakable signs of gold in large quantities. Despite all the precautions taken for years by mining companies, high grade ore continues to get out. This is difficult to understand when it is explain-ed that men working in shafts where the vein is believed to be rich, must undress before entering the mine and put on other clothes from the skin out. When they come off duty, these are removed and the street clothes donned again. Yet the $3,000,000 annually lost is a conservative estimate, according to mining men.

Once smuggled out of the mine, the gold is passed to a crude smelter. This agent pays probably $5 to $8 an ounce for what he believes there is of pure gold in the ore. He then takes it to a secret crucible somewhere - an ordinary Quebec heater has been known to serve - and with a few crude bits of equipment, renders it down to a molten state. Tossing in a handful of flux he is able to separate the gold from the unwanted ore and the whole is allowed to cool off. Then it is chipped from the crucible.

After this, it must be further refined in another crucible and chipped out. This is what is known as a button, one of which was found here weighing 76 ounces. This is sold to a runner who takes the responsibility of getting it to a buyer in the United States where the price is $35 an ounce, U.S. funds or $38.50 in Canadian funds. It is generally handled in lots up to 300 ounces. It is difficult to dispose of it in Canada because of the stricter supervision exercised over refiners. --- Image Caption

Officers Responsible for Arrests and Those Accused in Gold Case An international police trap, that clicked as smoothly as a well-rehearsed movie, has broken up what is believed to have been the beginning of a powerful gang of high-grade gold smugglers. More than $4.000 worth of the precious metal has been recovered and is being held as evidence. Four members of the gang are shown in the pictures on the upper right and in the group below. On the upper left, Foreign Exchange Control Board and RCMP officers are shown with the seized gold, part of one of the shipments. Left to right in the group on the upper left are: Inspector W. M. Morphet, of the Windsor office of the FEC.B: Constable J. T. Townsend, of the Windsor Detachment of the RCMP: Inspector George McGonigal, of the FECB; and Constable W. W. Routledge, of the RCMP. On the upper right is Marko Lekich of Windsor. who was arrested at the Windsor side of the tunnel with $3,000 worth of the gold in his possession. Below, left to right. are: George Birush of Windsor. Sam Matijevich of Hamilton, and Michael "Big Mike" Bijlich of Windsor, all members of the gang and former residents of Northern Ontario, from where the gold is believed to have come.

#windsor #detroit #gold smuggling #high grading #high graders #stolen ore #stealing from the company #robbing hoods #resource capitalism #resource extraction #northern ontario #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada #police raid #undercover cops #customs officials #royal canadian mounted police #canada during world war 2

[havedawson03]

US Questions Iraq's Commitment To Preventing Islamic State

For tax years starting after 2019, there is no such thing as a age limit to contribute to a conventional IRA. If employed, the contributions could be made instantly by your employer. For that purpose, retirees consider the account as protection of their portfolio from these market forces. These kinds of accounts give the opportunity of diversifying your portfolio, lower the volatility of asset prices and protect in opposition to the results of inflation. Funding with a brokerage or a custodian implies that the bought foreign money is stored in your IRAs’ digital wallet, and that requires multiple verifications. Bloomberg Intelligence senior macro strategist, Mike McGlone, sees gold crossing the $2,000 mark and will never look back. Insiders describe a battle of wits between the IRA and British intelligence. Officials from the Directorate of Revenue Intelligence say smugglers are recurrently utilizing the air route, making the most of airways that club international routes with domestic ones utilizing the same flight. One of the famous examples is Delta Air Strains buying a ConocoPhillips oil refinery in 2012 to offset the risk of upper costs for jet fuel. The Fed produced the credit score literally out of skinny air.

The most effective technique to make it possible for you’re not getting duped is to keep on with well-recognized sovereign gold coins like Gold American Eagles or Gold Canadian Maple Leafs or gold bars produced by authorities mints or LBMA-approved mints and refiners. An old man we handed instructed us to not stray from the trail as a result of landmines had been in every single place, but as we bought higher, snow obscured the edges of the tracks so we couldn't tell where we were strolling. The worth of gold bars and coins tracks carefully with the spot value. However, these bars have to have an authentication trademark from one in all the 2 authorities: the new York Mercantile Alternate (NYMEX) or the Commodity Change Incorporation (COMEX). In this way, you will certainly be discovering yourself paying slightly bit extra for the assorted coins you purchase than you'll pay have been you to acquire them on your own, however the additional convenience provided by such services and the fact that they qualify as a legally established IRA makes them nicely price the additional price.

RNC Minerals chief govt Mark Selby mentioned the largest rocks would go to public sale as collector items. The biggest specimen, weighing 95kg (210lb), was found to contain more than 2,400 ounces of gold, Canadian miner RNC Minerals stated. RNC Minerals mentioned it had extracted 2,200g per tonne. Amongst incentives for manufacturers to build EVs and batteries in the U.S., the IRA provides consumers tax credit if these automobiles and batteries are assembled in North America, along with upcoming necessities that essential minerals from these batteries come from home sources. We then ship electrical current by it so the bottom and the surfaces of metallic minerals get charged. They'd initially despatched her to native doctors for IVF and then abroad for assessments.

The final time the US faced such considerably excessive systemic inflation was during the stagflation of the 1970s, when inflation peaked at 11%. Throughout that decade, gold’s common annualized growth charge was over 30%. That’s phenomenal performance in any yr, but to maintain that up over the course of a decade is unheard of. When you have been to attempt to purchase coins that were not eligible for funding with a gold IRA, that can be considered a distribution of account belongings and would be subject to any applicable taxes and penalties. gold-ira.info can take a look at metal-res gold custodian for more on this topic. A Silver IRA Rollover is an incredibly worthwhile device for individuals trying to invest in their monetary future. Evidence to the inquiry additionally includes a statement from Chief Superintendent Breen's employees officer Alan Mains, wherein he mentioned Mr Breen expressed concern that a member of the Irish police was within the pay of Murphy. Venezuela first approached the Financial institution of England at the tip of 2018. Finance Minister Simón Zerpa and Central Bank President Calixto Ortega travelled to London to demand that Venezuela be allowed to take the gold back to Venezuela.

#precious metals ira

[wyslyyzr]

a vague timeline for things because marvel is fucked all across the board and i need some sense of continuity + solidifiying my past headcanons--this is close to what i had ran with in the past, just typed up again. 

1930: max eisenhardt is born in dusseldorf, germany. the eisenhardt family moves shortly thereafter to nuremburg; max has no memories of dusseldorf. this is the place his parents were born as well. reasonably, max considers nuremburg his home town. 

1933: ruth eisenhardt is born in nuremberg, germany, max’s younger and final sibling. 

1935-1938: max meets magda, the daughter of one of the lady janitors at the school he attended. 

1939: the eisenhardts, following an antisemitic outburst that shamed and injured max’s uncle erich, and a violent interaction with jakob’s former general from the first world war where he was beaten and thrown out of his office, and, finally, kristallnacht, move to warsaw in an attempt to escape the anti-jewish tensions. 

1940: the warsaw ghetto is built around them. 

1940-1942: the very young max turns into a food smuggler in the warsaw ghetto, acquiescing meals for both his family members and other jewish families with other boys. he has his bar mitsvah sometime in this period, despite not being 13, given the direness of the situation. 

1942: deportation to the treblinka camps begins. the eisenhardts flee yet again. on their way back to their hideout, they are captured by nazi regiment. the eisenhardts are executed, but jakob saves his son’s life by butting him out of the line of the bullets. regardless, max is knocked unconscious, and brought to a mass grave where he is dumped alongside his family.

1942-1944: max is found alive in the camp, and put to work for his impressively sturdy frame despite the harrow of starvation. in order to avoid being selected for death, max becomes a sonderkommando. 

1942-1944: this bit is a bit of influence from the xmcu, but something i’ve always incorporated into my canon regardless; max’s mutant abilities laid nearly dormant due to physical illness contracted from exertion and malnourishment, however, in moments of grief and anger, they were still strong enough to rear up. more than once, he’d injured officers, and killed one on accident out of fear. instead of being executed, josef mengele and doctor sinister took interest in him and conducted various physical experiments. when they could not produce the same effects, he was sent back to the work force. 

late 1944: max participates in the sonderkommando rebellion, escaping not only alongside other sonderkommandos, but magda, who had happened to also be interned in the camps. 14 and 15 respectively, they spend the rest of their teens together, and most of their 20s. 

1950: anya eisenhardt is born. max marries magda two months into her pregnancy. 

1957: the identity of “erik magnus lehnsherr” is created by georg odekirk, however i do not implement the idea that erik posed as rroma to “fit in” with the rroma community since i think its kinda.. bad. he’s accepted as his wife’s husband and a jewish man. max becomes erik to protect himself and his family.

1959: the eisenhardts--now lehnsherrs--move to vinnitsa, a then-soviet region, in order to pursue stable work, as erik became dissatisfied with only scraping by to provide for their daughter. he acquires a construction job in the summer, where he worked for another few months before the next incident. 

fall of 1959: erik consciously uses his abilities for the first time, hurling a crowbar at his boss over a pay dispute. when he returns to the inn where he and his family had been staying, he finds it aflame, and anya trapped inside. when he makes an attempt to free her, he is held down by the security his boss had employed, evoked over their dispute, and is forced to watch anya burn to death. finally, in an explosion of 29 years of grief and anger, catalyzed by the loss of his child, erik’s abilities fully emerge. not only does he kill everyone in the immediate vicinity he deems responsible for the event, including anyone who happened to become caught in the detritus and obstructions, he levels more than half of the city. in the ruins and ash, he finds anya’s scorched body and digs a grave with his hands to bury his daughter, where magda in the wake of his destruction approaches him horrified by his actions. he asks her to help him bury their daughter, and in her fear, she proclaims him a monster before fleeing, unknown to either of them, pregnant with the twins. erik is approached by another regiment of soldiers who attempt to shoot him in the head. he turns their guns on them instead, finishes burying and honoring his daughter, and spends some time searching for magda, whom he never finds. after a few days of unsuccessfully looking for his wife, erik packs what little he has left and travels from the leveled vinnitsa to haifa, israel. 

1960: erik volunteers at a hospital in haifa that predominantly focused on helping other survivors of the shoah, where he seeks some modicum of treatment himself, and meets none other than charles xavier. 

1961: after helping charles rescue gabi, erik realizes he and charles’ views are incompatible, and departs from haifa. he is eventually scouted by both the israeli secret service and a western outfit (likely the CIA) whilst hunting nazi war criminals. 

1962: erik hunts nazi war criminals and turns them over to israel for trial. i don’t really feel like going into detail about this one because its a little convoluted but basically erik is “allowed” to turn over certain nazis that are deemed acceptable to turn over to israel by his western control, but when he turns over a nazi that the west does not want him to turn over, agents show up to put an end to his “betrayals”, where he learns the truth of what they were doing and freaks out in a rage and kills them all, where he finally adopts the identity of “magneto”. he moves to brooklyn, new york, in the same year. 

1964: erik meets cassandra michaels, who designs his outfit. this is where this timeline gets fucked to hell because i have to work with 60 years of super old dumbass comics that characterize erik as a super hammy archetypical villain when thats not the character he develops into. 

this post is going to be SUPER LONG so this is a placeholder for me to edit and continue it later in detail. take these points as general points for the future before i write them out fully. 

late 60s is the first instance of asteroid m shit

the 1970s and 80s are the brotherhood heyday before the x-men really exist and they’re the only public figures saving and protecting mutants while also executing violent resistance to mutant oppression. 

early o5 era is around 1990-1999

dark phoenix saga around 2000 

genosha massacre mid 2000s. the “magneto was right” movement begins around this date as well, and che guevara-type merchandise starts sprouting up.

m day and civil war in 2008-ish, a few years following the genoshan massacre. 

utopia around 2011. 

avx around 2014. 

#and i will do more LATER. #-- JUST LOOK AT ALL THAT WE HAVE MADE. | HEADCANONS. #long post #shoah tw #child death tw

[graceverse]

An Unexpected Invitation: Epilogue / Prologue

Please note that this is post "The Final" movie. This happened around 2 months after Kenshin and Enishi's fight.

He hated paper works with a force of a thousand burning suns. That he had to deal with so much seemed like an unreasonable punishment for allowing himself to work for these Meiji scums. Not everyone in the government were tyrannical usurpers, true but a good number of them were despicably dishonest, using their position to amass wealth. Everyone was trying to line their pocket with money, from the smallest official to the highest-ranking member of the Cabinet. It was despicable. The bureaucracy had allowed them to steal in new and complicated ways.

There were two ways to go about punishing the corrupt. Swift death is the easiest and one that he wished he was able to employ. Reliable as this maybe, it wasn’t always the most effective. Killing is, alas temporary. Someone new will take the vacated position and it with Japan’s luck, it will either be some young idiot appointed by virtue of his father knowing someone in the Ministry or the usual unscrupulous, greedy politician.

Politicians are the absolute worst. Disgusting thieves, all of them. Espousing modernization, liberal-democratic rule, under which they could control things, with – the fucking irony – more paper works.

What was it that he had heard just the other day? It isn’t the severity of the punishment but the certainty of it. Justice under the Rule of Law and not by the sword. And yes, this was the second way to punish the corrupt. Mountains of documents and evidence, investigative work that requires time and resources that of course, were never given to them.

Fujita Gorō, follow this Minister, suspicious activities, provide paper trail, eyewitnesses, a crime scene.

But the moment he’d ask for budget, backing and support, he’d be brushed aside, told to wait for the approval of the officials: write off a request, fill up a form. It was endless, the things he had to when he could so easily just wait in the darkness and kill evil instantly.

Saitou could feel the mild pressure of a headache starting just at the base of his skull as he narrowed his eyes at the towering stack of paper that had accumulated on top of his table.

It’s a fire hazard, he thinks, uncaringly lighting another cigarette, shaking the match to extinguish the flame. He flicked it right on the of the pile that he was supposed to be working on. He watched as part of the cover page turned dark, about to catch fire – but the flame sputtered and died before it could spread and engulf his entire desk.

Saitou briefly wondered how well that excuse will fly with his superiors when they ask him, yet again, for the report on whatever it was that they fancied. He grimaced. It was getting late. He should probably head home or swing by at an izakaya, grab something to eat. He wasn’t much of a drinker but perhaps a cup of cool sake would help with this abominable weather.

He slowly rotated his neck, fingers deftly getting rid of the knots in his muscles. Already making up his mind, he abruptly stood up, surveying the almost empty office for the investigators of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. The Ministry of Interior had been kind enough to give them a little corner where desks were shared by three, sometimes even four, investigators.

Technically, they weren’t directly reporting to him. After all he was part of the Department of Internal Affairs, but they were currently (always) short staffed and so he had been allowed to engage the police force. Saitou wouldn’t be allowed to take any one of them to China, of course – not that he meant to anyway, they didn’t have the experience or the skill required for such a delicate and dangerous assignment. He would, as always, do everything himself as soon as he steps foot in that godforsaken country.

And this only reminded him of the numerous forms he has to accomplish for that foreign trip under the guise of some diplomatic exchange of goodwill – he hasn’t read the official excuse they will be using to entrap those damnable Chinese criminals and the Japanese (shame on those bastards!) smugglers.

He had taken a great risk getting that demented Yukishiro out of prison. He was their only link with the Chinese Mafia (alive and coherent, at least) and in the brief moment that he’d spent trying to get any information from him, Saitou had already figured out the perfect way to manipulate the boy into giving him everything he needed.

Like a petulant child out for revenge, Saitou hadn’t been at all surprised when Battousa’s brother-in-law had taken the bait, crazed eyes glinting with no doubt, his own plans of sticking it to the clueless Himura. Trying to kill his giri no ani hadn’t worked (not yet, anyway) but here was an opportunity to make his life miserable. At least for a few weeks, until he could come up with a more permanent way to ruin him.

This was all so easily read from the way Yukishiro had readily agreed to the plan, no further questions asked.

I will annoy my murdering brother-in-law? What do I need to do?!

How boringly predictable. Of course, Saitou would have to expect the unexpected from Yukishiro. He would have to be very cautious and keep an eye on him. The boy didn’t crawl up to the top of the criminal underworld and gained the trust of the Chinese mafia if he hadn’t been wily. Yukishiro can be cunning, yes. Saitou was aware of that but he was also still young; ruled, just like his abhorred brother-in-law, by emotions and twisted ideals of revenge and redemption.

Proof of Yukishiro’s volatility: on the very day of his release, the idiot had burned the warehouse the government had confiscated. And for such obvious reasons, too. Saitou had wanted to strangle him for wasting the time and effort of Tokyo’s police force and the fire department something so unnecessary. He had managed to calm himself down when he saw Himura and the kid watching the fire, wide-eyed and suspicious of everyone.

Remember, this could also be fun. He had reminded himself as he left the minor chaos that Yukishiro had unleashed. Kami knows he hadn’t been able to have any sort enjoyment ever since he had started working for the government. And if it was at the expense of an old enemy, then he might as well grab the opportunity. He would have to talk to Yukishiro about subtlety. But then maybe that wasn’t something he was capable of, evident of the hot air balloon and the bombing of Tokyo for a personal grudge. Saitou could overlook that too. Since Yukishiro had gotten rid of Chou and for that, he was actually thankful.

Saitou picked up the jacket he had carefully draped over his chair. He should have kept Yukishiro locked up for another day as he called for the Kamiya girl to his office. There would be much protest from her, the kid, the Rooster, The Fox – why Battousai’s woman would want to turn her dojo into a proverbial zoo was beyond him – but they wouldn’t have any choice. He had, truth be told, wanted to look at the Kamiya girl in the eye as he proposed (ha!) the pretend marriage between her and Yukishiro.

It would probably end with a broken table and damn if that will be taken out of his already meagre salary. Speaking of which, he will be asking for a raise after this undertaking and more importantly, he will be getting it.

Saitou had started buttoning up his immaculately pressed jacket when it hit him. He clenched his teeth, hissing as he felt it slam into him. There was no holding back when that ki was released. It was a message specifically for him but it was uncontrolled enough to make some of the remaining lower ranking police officers squirm in their seats, nervously glancing around at what had caused that feeling of having their insides pinched with some inexplicable energy.

He smirked, pulling at his cuff before taking a long drag on his cigarette, narrowing his eyes as over the hazy smoke, he watched Battousai wordlessly step inside his office, stopping only when he had reached the edge of the worn-out, second-hand table (more budget constraints) that was now separating them. Saito exhaled slowly, noting the way Battousai’s eyes glittered dangerously amber. Ah, well this was at least a familiar sight. Kishikan. He couldn’t help the satisfied smile that stretched his lips.

“Saitou.” No formal, polite greeting. Even the voice was different, lowered into an almost growl.

Good. Saitou had no patience in dealing with the pretentious affectations of the ruruoni. It was always tedious dealing with all that de gozarus and senseless oro­-ing. It was a shameful, cowardly act that no former hitokiri should ever indulge in and yet, here we are.

It did, however galled him that the rurouni had the audacity to march into his office so late at night, like he had some power over him. Like he had expected Saitou to just be here, waiting for him. This was also exactly why he had greatly opposed letting Himura and his merry-band of delinquents become part of official police work. Officers and investigators have inevitably become all too familiar and friendly towards, what they now fondly refer to as, The Kenshin-gumi. Kami help him.

“Yoshino!” He barked, his voice loud enough to make everyone else inside the office start grabbing random papers off of their desks, suddenly pretending to be busy. Yoshino Kentaro was the youngest officer at the headquarter and had the unfortunate appearance of having a permanently frightened wide-eyed look of a boy. His name did not help him. Neither did his chubby, child-like face. As was often the case, he was bullied by the sophomore and junior officers precisely because he looked like that. Saitou had little sympathy, but that boy was rather good in organizing files which was why he had made him his unofficial secretary.

Yoshino shuffled into the doorway, bowing and then straightening up, huge rounded eyes looking almost tearful. “Sir?”

“What did I tell you about letting people come into my office?”

The boy gulped. “To always ask if they have an appointment with you,” his eyes flitted towards Himura, who would normally be making excuses for such a slip up, but clearly Battousai was not in a very charitable mood. He remained silent as a stone, fist clenched hanging useless at this sides. “It’s already late, captain --- I had assumed that --- at this time, you wouldn’t have any appointments….” He stammered until at the very end of the sentence, Yoshino’s voice had entirely disappeared, and it was just his mouth opening and closing but no sound was coming out of it.

Saitou rolled his eyes. “Ahou! Get out, now.”

With what sounded like a faint squeak, Yoshino scampered out of sight. Hopefully now the boy will remember his rule about unexpected visitors. Especially one who looked as dangerous as Battousai. The baffled look on Yoshino’s face was exactly what Saitou had felt when he had first chanced upon the rurouni almost a year ago. That he had been dealing with Himura for so long without having any possibility of finally ending their unfinished fight, grated on his nerves.

Although Saitou had to concede that lately, he had been seeing glimpses of the hitokiri. Perhaps an opportunity will finally arrive. But to be sure, the peace-loving rurouni was still very much present and in control, given the fact that Himura hadn’t thought to ambush him on the darkened empty streets of Tokyo or to wait like a dark shadow inside his home. That he had chosen to confront him at the relatively safer police station wasn’t lost on him. Even though it really didn’t matter where they were. It wasn’t as though the combined forces of the junsa and junsa-chō could stop Battousai if he wanted to draw blood. And with the glare Himura was giving him, Saitou wouldn’t be surprised if swords would be drawn. His eyes glanced over to where his katana was resting against the wall at the other side of the room. He saw Battousai’s eyes following his gaze.

Saitou would have to flip and kick his table to distract Battousai and grab his sword, but it could be done. He’d have the satisfaction of watching all of his paper works explode into disorder. The distance wasn’t so great. Battousai seemed to be thinking of the same thing, but he didn’t make any movement to indicate that he was bothered by it. “What is so important that you couldn’t wait until tomorrow, Himura?” He asked with a drawl, refusing to sit down, forcing the hitokiri to remain standing as well.

“Kaoru-dono.” Was the curt answer, an indication that there would no waste of words and phrases tonight, which he actually appreciated.

Saitou let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “If you’re here to ask for love advice you slow--” he began, but was immediately cut off when Himura leaned forward, hands placed flat on the table, eyes burning.

“This stops now.” Himura barely even moved his mouth with the way he was clenching his teeth.

Saitou was completely unimpressed. The simmering anger was there, probably barely held in check but it wasn’t even for him. He wondered if Himura even realize that. Probably not. The idiot. The reason for this particular rage was also so disappointingly predictable. He was even more sure now that the only reason Himura survived being a hitokiri was based solely on his speed. And yes, fighting skills. But he would not have lasted a day if he had to rely on his mental agility. Which would explain how, at such a young age, he had ended up with the Ishin Shishi. So easily manipulated by his own emotions. Then and still, now.

He flicked his wrist, the ashes from his lighted cigarette scattering and settling on top of the papers on his desk, the perfect addition to that burn mark he had inflicted earlier. “Had a visit from your brother-in-law, then?” There was an even more significant spike of ki. He twisted his lips, smirking. “One thing I’ve got to say about that crazy son of a bitch, he doesn’t waste time.”

Himura audibly growled. “You want someone to make sure Enishi will do as he’s told, use me. I will go with him to Shanghai. But leave Kaoru-dono out of this.”

The vehemence in Himura’s voice wasn’t at all surprising. There was hardly anything complicated about Himura. He was easily read and therefore, easily controlled. Battousai’s weakness wasn’t the people around him that he was desperate to protect, it was his inability to take a hold of his emotions. Constantly letting his feelings interfere with what needed to be done. What does guilt have to do with trying to catch a criminal? What does compassion have to do with punishing those found guilty of their crimes? What dose love have to do with trying to build a country that the gods would favor and be proud of? Duty first, always.

“Do you see these?” He asked, indicating the pile of paper on his table. He tapped the smallest pile with his finger, “These are all of Yukishiro’s official files. Signed witnesses accounts, all the meager documents the best investigators of this country was able to gather. This is enough to throw him in jail and he will never see the light of day ever again but everyone else he had worked with, goes away free.”

Himura’s eyes squinted disinterestedly. Saito then moved his hand to sweep across the tallest pile of paperwork that hardly spruced up his deck. “Unofficial. We can’t release them. We can’t use them. Half of them mentions you, Hitokiri Battousai. His sister and the bloody mess that you created in Kyoto ten years ago.”

The eyes that slid over to him glowed golden and threatening. And Saitou had to roll his eyes. “I have no plans of babysitting the two of you on a ship to Shanghai. I have better things to do. You understand the importance of getting those documents. You of all people should know what another war would do to this country.”

Himura was shaking his head. “You don’t get to use that excuse, Saitou. We both know what the government will do with those weapons. If a war is coming, it will come, nothing we do will stop it. You and I both know that.”

Saitou narrowed his eyes at him. Not so naïve, after all. But was Battousai even aware of the dissonance of his own beliefs? Or perhaps that was just human nature? After all, didn’t he fought against the founding of this very government and now here he was, working for it? “And Shishio Makoto? Was that just your pride?”

Himura’s face contorted in anger. “Pride?! No. That was my mistake. I had a hand in creating Shishio.”

“The size of your ego is astounding, especially for your size.” He snorted, looking down at Himura who visibly bristled.

“I have nothing to do with this war.” He insisted, hands clenched against his side. “Two countries fighting each other is different from two people born to the same motherland, who speaks the same language killing each other for peace and freedom.”

Saitou nodded, finally understanding. “I see. You’ve become selfish.” Himura made sputtering noises, but he ignored him, waving his hands to silence any forthcoming protest. “The government will get those documents one way or another.”

Himura straightened his back and even though he was indeed a small man, this completely changed his stature. He could hide as an unsuspicious, clueless wanderer but if he wished it, Himura can be intimidating with just the smallest gesture. If you knew where and how to look. “Is that a threat, Saitou?”

“It is what it is, Himura. You are only angry because, you’re right: this has nothing to do with you.” Saitou crossed his arms, tapping his lit cigarette in the process. Ashes silently floated down the floor and without looking down, he moved his shoes, deflt avoiding it.

Battousai’s face hardened. “And yet you would drag Kaoru-dono into this. I am getting tired of reminding people that she is neither bait nor pawn. If I have to repeat that one more time, it will be the last.”

"Is that a threat?”

“As I have told Enishi, I will not allow it.”

Tired of this conversation, Saitou walked towards the other end of the room to pick up his sword, turning his back against Himura. He slowly pivoted to find Kenshin still standing in his place, hands by his side. “Ahou!” Saitou roared, grabbing his katana and pointing it to his arch nemesis. “It isn’t up to you. That is why you’re angry. Because it isn’t your choice to make. You do not have a say in this at all. Only Kamiya-san can decide if she’ll go with to Shanghai or not.” He let that sink in even though he already knew that Himura had grasped the truth of this. “And you are wrong, it isn’t about being pawn or bait, it’s about insurance. That is what Kamiya-san is.”

There were no more snarling or glaring. Only the cold voice of a former hitokiri, announcing imminent death. “You can say it however way you want to, Saitou. We both know that you are lying. But you’re also right. It isn’t up to me. I understand that now. Thank you.”

That was completely unexpected, Saitou had to admit and he had to take a second to compose himself. He took a deep breath, bringing his sword to his side and securing it within his belt. “That’s it?” He asked just as coldly.

Himura nodded, deeply bowing. “Yes, that is it. Try not lose sleep over it, Fujita-san.” And with that he exited the room which had gotten darker and colder.

Kami-sama, Saitou thought, tossing the now useless cigarette that Battousai’s ki had extinguished. Bastard. He’s going to need that jug of sake, because he was already certain that things are about to become much, much more complicated.

----------------------------------------------------------

And that is the end of this story. Well, part of this story. If I will continue it, I'll be posting it separately. Give me your suggestions! I will love to know what you guys think.

Also, do they feel OOC? I think they do. I think I want a more assertive Kenshin and that’s why he’s like that? I don’t know. The dialogues wrote themselves. HAHAHA. But yes, no more parts for An Unexpected Invitation . Sorry and thank you in advance for reading and leaving a review. I appreciate it like you wouldn’t believe how much.

Notes and Terms:

Izakaya - a type of informal Japanese bar that serves alcoholic drinks and snacks Izakaya are casual places for after-work drinking

Giri no ani – older brother-in-law

Kishikan – déjà vu

Kentaro - "sharp; big boy"

Junsa – police officers

Junsa-chō - Senior Police Officer

Also, Saitou is supposed to be a special agent for the Meiji Government's Department of Internal Affairs, but I don’t think he’d make that official title known, so I went with captain. If that is incorrect, please let me know. I really can’t remember how he introduced himself as – I mean to the civilians in the manga/anime/movie. The Kenshin-gumi, of course would know that he wasn’t just some regular police man and Saitou probably had told them as much. But what does Tae know of him, you know? Like she probably calls him just officer or sir. But yes, if you have any inputs here, I would really like to know.

#an unexpected invitation #4 of 4 #epilogue / prologue #????? #rurouni kenshin #rurouni kenshin fanfiction #kenshin himura #saitou hajime #saitou is pure evil #post The Final

[thomasstalsworth]

Too Old ... Moray II

[ Prior Chapter ]

“... What the fuck?”

Moray set down his spyglass, letting it rest a moment at his hip. The telescoping device gave off a very distinct ‘schhwp!’ sound as it collapsed. With the crisp, Spring late-night air of Stormwind all around, he took a moment to rationally determine if what he had just seen was accurate. He was not a man who was beyond questioning his senses when it was logical. There was a significant amount of stress going around, and he certainly had the Red Fleet on his mind. But that did not mean anyone with a red corsair’s vest and burn scars was …

‘Schhwp!’

Spyglass back upon his eyeball, he looked again to the harbour below -- particularly one of the southern moorings where a minor coalition of buccaneers were carousing. Well, perhaps not carousing. He generally thought of carousing as dice, cards, gambling, an abundance of ethanol compounds of varying flavors and fermentations, and oftentimes individuals of favorable amorality.

The men he currently had within the scope of his spyglass looked more like they were devising. Perhaps it could be said that they were planning -- scheming even. The sentiment was unlawful.

And the one amidst the center of the scheming, face cast only with half-light from the meager oil lanterns of the southern harbour moorings -- he had a scar. Not any scar, as it was not anything to be surprised for to see a sailing man with a scar. Mangled flesh was a point of pride and boast for any humanoid of Azeroth’s various ocean-faring organizations. Moray was not above it himself. He took a well of pride for his calloused hands, split knuckles, and rope-torn limbs.

But this man, scheming amidst a crew of carob and claret clad buccaneers, had a scar on his face. Now he tried to hide it, to credit. A burlap mask that looked as if it reeked of male sweat and spittle was tugged up over his nostrils. But it did not hide from Moray’s spyglass the distinctive upper-reaches of a burn-scar. A handprint upon the man’s face, fingers curled over the eye and brow.

Men of the Reverend.

He collapsed the spyglass and stole it away inside the pocket of his trousers.

There were clear rules at play. He was under the bidden order of his Captain to ‘assess and report’. Such notions and exactitude of word were not done without intention. He was no man to breach order even under dire circumstances. Logic, order and the reason of the hierarchy of command were present to his soul even when the call to arms was estranged. Such as when the foe was Abbidas Bonnet, Eighth of the Brethren Pirate Lords and there was no crew complement nor vessel to command against such a demonic creature. Only himself and his Captain -- and she was not exactly nearby.

Of course the notion came quite immediately to his mind to simply ‘phone in’. He had given her a single-channel gnomecorder, and carried one himself to match, for a reason. But unfortunately Moray was still a man, and despite being a rather stoic and rigid man of rules and ordinance, he was still a man. And men had the most frustrating ability to rationalize otherwise worrisome actions.

Given the time of late evening, and the fact that his Captain had said quite specifically she was going back to Westfall only perhaps a half of an hour earlier, Moray felt quite sure in assuming that she was currently on horseback. It would be silly to try to contact her through gnomecorder. She must be riding. It was doubtful she would even be able to hear the buzzing device in a saddlebag. Yes, yes that made sense.

He stowed his spyglass onto his hip. ‘Assess and report’ was his ordered task. He was going to assess the fel out of those pirates -- and he could report on whatever was left of them.

From Lion’s Rest to the tawny, spume-soaked reaches of the southern harbour was a reasonable expanse of distance. Stormwind City only grew larger every day. But he had the boon of long legs and an internal vigor. Yes it had been damaged somewhat from his scarring and the long process of healing -- of which, by doctoral direction was technically still on-going -- from his torture at the hands of the Reverend, but all the same. It would not take him long.

There was nothing remarkable about him. At least, not externally. He found his pride and measure to be personal; an internal liberty and polished independence of spirit. There was nothing remarkable about him in appearance, and he found that quite useful. Certainly in the cosmopolitan cityscape of Stormwind -- almost doubly so in the evenings, he had found -- he did not ‘stick out’.

This was helpful for him, as he wanted to move as quickly and efficiently as possible without drawing attention. En route to the harbour, passing the Cathedral District of the city, he was harried briefly as the City Watch seemed to be making an arrest. For what reason he could not assume, but perhaps it had something to do with the man in purple and black robes and the various demonic constructs that accompanied him.

The city certainly had changed since the reconstruction. To him it was still New Stormwind.

But onward he went, and down the barrier sea walls of the harbour. Thankfully the lamplighters of the city had yet to reignite many of the oil lamps on the pathway down. He found himself appreciating the laziness of the union in that moment, ‘tap-tap-tap!’ing his way down the many, many steps it took to reach the harbourway proper.

Now if there was one thing that Emett Moray found he could claim some mastery of, it was a sense of direction. This was not a surprising fact for him to explain to any person, as it usually came after mentioning his decades of sailing experience. Oddly enough, knowing what direction you are going was a strong skill to put on one’s resume in a naval employ.

Thus -- owing to his propensity for mastery of sensing direction -- it was no trouble for him to find the coalition of conniving corsairs. In truth such a title of profession was being generous. No doubt the men were rapacious murderers. Those who followed the creed and call of the Red Lord had a tendency to such behavior. That only gave Moray more confidence in his actions.

The pirates had formed a tight semi-circle near one of the southern moorings. To any frequent traveler or employee of the Stormwind harbourways, it was quite well known not only how massive the docks were and how many dockheads were constructed, but how the general sense of lawfulness tended to degrade the closer you got to the southern shorehead.

Indeed, ever since the burning of Teldrassil, the southernmost dock had fallen into a state of constant cloak-and-dagger. With no vessels regularly ferrying travelers to and from the northern end of Kalimdor with subsidy from the Crown well …

Smugglers, deviants, freebooters and otherwise less-than-lawful elements were, by nature, opportunistic.

The sensation of half-lit oil lamps and a cloudy, half-moon sky were not lost on Moray. As he crept down to the southern harbourway and toward where the men of the Reverend were speaking in hushed tone, Moray kept a keen awareness of his surroundings. Good that he did, too, as he almost stumbled onto an alchemical deal occurring between a Kaldorei man and a pair of gnomes. He studiously avoided them, circling around a few pallets of unmarked cargo.

Once he was within earshot of the pirates, he ducked his girthy frame low. There were benefits to possessing a ‘lower center of gravity’, even at his otherwise impressive height. He had the ‘drustblood’, as some people called it. There was no helping his enormity. But behind a stack of rain-bubbled lumber he settled himself in, eavesdropping.

“... afterward you’ll regroup in the woods north of the city outskirts, past the farmsteads. With the catacombs taken care of, we can lay down and wait until she is in the city again.”

The burned man, his face cast in a scar, spoke to the rest. Catacombs? Moray knew of no crypts within the city of Stormwind beyond those which consumed a spiderweb beneath the Cathedral. What were they --

“Did the Reverend say when she would return?”

A dissenting voice, questioning the burlap and burned man.

“You question him? -- She will return. The sight is fickle and only the Lord can command it reliably. She will return and when she does we will track her back to her rat’s nest.”

‘Assess and report’. He could recall his Captain’s words quite clearly. Indeed, even through the slush of the southern harbour sound and air, above the voice of the damned creatures of the Red Lord’s reverend, he could hear her voice. He chose to ignore that particular auditory acumen.

Rising suddenly from behind the stack of lumber, Moray unhooked his boarding axe from his hip. There was a ‘scccckrt!’ as the rigging rope that was his belt came undone, unlooping his weapon from its holding at his hip. He took the massive, broad-headed axe in both hands. With a two-handed hammer-throw overhead, he hurled the weapon into the spinal column of the nearest pirate.

That got their attention.

The lighting was poor, he knew that. With only a few oil lamps overhead along the harbourway giving even the slightest flicker of orange-hued light, Moray felt confident. With his axe buried four or five inches deep in the spine of one of the pirates, he only had six more to contend with. Unfair odds in truth -- perhaps if they had more reinforcements things would be even.

Immediately he ducked behind the stack of rain-warped lumber. Back to the assembly of boards and spars, he flattened himself, waiting.

True to form as ravenous, murderous creatures of the wide ocean -- they predictably came after him. He counted on that rather foolhardy nature. Although he was only one foe against them, a discerning mind was far more useful than multiplicative limbs.

The first man around the corner of the lumber pile was rammed against a split board.

Moray had quite sizable hands. Paws of such rancor and stature that he could, often, reliably get his entire mitt around the face of a regular man. ‘Drustblood’ they called it. He called it big fucking hands. The first pirate around the lumber pile he took by the jaw, beating him against a split board from the lumber pile until his front palette was gouged and murky. He dropped the man like a bloody pork chop.

The next ‘buccaneer’ tried to spear-tackle Moray. Running in hard around the corner of the pile of discarded wood, he rammed himself against Moray’s hull. Unfortunately for the pirate and his violent intention, Moray did not move. Indeed, he simply glanced down at the tawny, zealous creature currently trying to wrangle his substantial form with a curious brow.

“.. Did you want another try?” Moray spoke to his would-be wrestler.

With a jerk of his arms and flex of muscle, the pirate tried to move the vengeful first mate. It did not work terribly well, resulting in little more than a scuttling of spare earth beneath them as the pirate ended up running in place.

With a sigh, Moray loft both hands, fingers interlaced into one fist, and collapsed his limbs onto the back of the pirate’s neck. Like a sack of grain from the back of a cart -- he went down.

The remaining five -- they used a small portion of their frontal lobe to realize that perhaps ganging up on the immediate foe was the surest course of action.

Moving backwards to avoid the onslaught of five zealous, piratical creatures of malcontent, Moray started to path himself back and around the lumber pile. As he moved, they made earnest intention to assault his person. That came in the form, mostly, of sharp steel. Now while he was, by all accounts, a rather large and thickened man -- he could still move swiftly when occasion called for it.

Attempted murder was one of those times.

Without his boarding axe, the commonplace weapon at his hip, he was defenseless to parry. But large limbs allowed for a certain degree of intimidation. He swung his arms and legs about, statured as a brawler in the ring. Where there were five of them each bearing steel and -- presumably -- pyroclastic capability, he had the forward-foot in the fight. Killing two so quickly was a good call.

Moving around the pile of disparate lumber, spars and planking arms, Moray started to back himself toward the southern dockhead. There were no other souls about, or at least the dim oil lamps on the clouded night suggested so. He kept the give encroaching pirates at bay with a serious of swift movements, powerful body language, and more than a little grunting.

But eventually he ran out of dock.

With his back to the open ocean behind, foaming waters churning under the fresh-heeled wood and steel rivets, he had nowhere to go. The burned man stood at the front of the group of pirates, servants of the Red Lord and his chosen Reverend. The man shunt his mask, peeling it off with two fingers to reveal the burn-scar upon his face. A searing-hot hand to cover one half of his features, the fingers curled around his brow and temple.

“Take his legs -- leave him alive. He knows something, I can tell.”

If nothing else, Moray took offense at the man’s raspy voice. He spoke as if he was uncaring for the manner in which he was heard. Such disregard for the social decorum and order offended the good, first mate. He cared for how he was heard and spoke accordingly. To see language so flagrantly cast aside harmed him.

But he had a more immediate problem than conversational norms.

Five men with a rising blood and a potency for divine fire -- not to mention their sharp armings of steel -- were more than a match for his scarred limbs. He ground his teeth, recalling how he had been tasked to ‘assess and report’. Well he had assessed, and found the situation worrying for the safety and health of his Captain.

Now he had to report.

With an eye to the five men encroaching on him as he ran out of dockhead to back upon, boots scuttling to the edge where the frothing waters of the Great Sea met the Stormwind dock in the late-evening darkness, Moray spoke a small settling of .. prayer.

“.. Alright, I know I have not spoken to you in awhile. I have not listened either. I am sorry for that -- but I could really use a hand here, Momma.”

It had been … years? … since he had spoken to her. The great mother who had guided him along his life in so many ways. Who he gave offerings and respect to, even if not by name, everytime he worked atop a vessel who weighed anchor. But need was need, and earnest heart was earnest heart and --

A sudden thrumming sound ate up the air. The five pirates bearing down on him paused some dozen feet away, just out of reach of their sharpened steel and sour-hearted fire. The thrumming, drumming, roaring beat of sound grew and grew until --

A massive wave of dark, frothing water from the night-time sea rushed over the dockhead and hurled the five pirates back, soaking and stealing from them their vigorous air. Each man was hurled so far and with such force as to crack their bodies against the cargo, dockheads and post that made up the wooden walkway. Consciousness was not a strength of which they could hold to any longer. It was quite a boon to the first mate.

Of course he was, obviously, soaking wet.

While the wave of frothing water had part to keep from throwing him dozens of feet across the dock as well as the pirates, it had still managed to drench him from head to toe in freezing, Spring-evening water.

He ran his tongue inside his lip, spitting out a gout of saltwater.

“.. Thanks, Mom.”

He took a short moment to reacquaint himself with a world wherein he was not in immediate, mortal danger before hustling down the dock. The goal was not to escape -- no, that was far from his intent. Those pirates had some sense of intelligence, and no doubt a portion of it would be on their persons. He grasped them each in turn, rummaging through their belongings and persons for anything remotely related to the Red Lord or one particular Abighail Atwater ….

Now it was important to understand the manner in which water reacted to parchment and ink. The pairing  were not amiable to one another. Take a well-written accord of some kind made in ink upon a vellum of even moderate capacity and introduce a deluge of frigid harbour water? … Well, legibility became suspect.

And so it was that Moray removed some kind of missive from the belt holdings of the scarred leader of the pirates. It clearly had some import, given his possession of it and the way it which it had been folded into the cycling of his breeches. But -- it was soaking wet. And there was not exactly an abundance of keen lighting with which to try and determine the writing by.

Oh -- and the mild concern of the bells of the city watch.

With the good men and women of the Stormwind Patrol coming in hot on the heels of his bout of -- justified -- combat, Moray grasped what pieces of useful evidence he could. With a final rock of his fist against the jaw of the burned man, no doubt a tool of the Reverend, Moray turned and leapt into the waters of the harbour. There were many ways to avoid the consternation of the Stormwind city watch -- suffusing oneself ten feet underwater tended to work quite well.

It was some time later, finally coming ashore from swimming South of the harbour that he reached dry land. Heaving himself onto the bare, sandy beach -- one he knew was close by, even without the Moon’s light to guide him -- Moray laid back with a huff and paused to take in air. He was tired, that much was obvious. The beach was below the cliffside that bore Lion’s Rest, and he looked up from his rest, back against the fisherman’s sands, to peer up at the marbled railway which he had stood upon with his spyglass not two hours hence.

Positioned as a starfish upon the wet sands, cloudy evening sky above and the waning sound of the city patrol’s bells ringing in the distance, he took stock.

The Reverend had men in Stormwind. They were searching for something, presumably in the catacombs of the Cathedral. Once that was acquired they intended to -- presumably -- lay in wait and track his Captain back to her homestead, whatever it may be, in Westfall.

Not ideal.

Reaching into his trouser pocket, sodden as it was, he retrieved his gnomecorder. It was, as one could imagine, soaking wet -- and inoperable. ‘Assess and report’. Well he had managed one half of that, at least.

With the water-damaged communicator in hand, he fell back against the sand.

“.. Fuck.”

@abighail-atwater​ (mentioned)

#Canon #Too Old

[dicrkisses]

.

#kinda want a plot based on frank ocean's lost #drugs tw #he's a narcotics trader #employs her as an international smuggler #he ends up developing strong feelings for her #she gets lost in the profession #falls in love w the jetsetting lifestyle #he wants to take her out of the game #but there's also a financial dependency there #so its not that simple #idk ... just angst #whos gonna give it to me 👀 #also bülow's cover of this song #chefs kiss #❪ ❀ ❫ 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒔 » ooc.

[newstfionline]

Venezuelans become Latin America’s new underclass.

By Anthony Faiola, NY Times, July 27, 2018

PORT-OF-SPAIN, Trinidad and Tobago--Free-spending Venezuelans once crammed store aisles in foreign countries famously uttering “dame dos”--”I’ll take two.” But the citizens of what was once South America’s richest nation per capita are now confronting a devastating reversal of fortune, emerging as the region’s new underclass.

As their oil-rich country buckles under the weight of a failed socialist experiment, an estimated 5,000 people a day are departing the country in Latin America’s largest migrant outflow in decades.

Venezuelan professionals are abandoning hospitals and universities to scrounge livings as street vendors in Peru and janitors in Ecuador. Here in Trinidad and Tobago--a petroleum-producing Caribbean nation off Venezuela’s northern coast--Venezuelan lawyers are working as day laborers and sex workers. A former well-to-do bureaucrat who once spent a summer eating traditional shark sandwiches and drinking whisky on Trinidad’s Maracas Bay is now working as a maid.

The U.N. refugee agency has called on nations to offer protection to the Venezuelans, as they did for millions of Syrians fleeing civil war. But in a part of world with massive gaps in protection for refugees, Venezuelans fleeing starvation at home are often trading one harrowing plight for another. Trinidad, for instance, has no asylum laws for refugees, leaving thousands of desperate Venezuelans here at risk of detention, deportation, police abuse and worse.

Sometimes much worse.

Luz, a 21-year-old Venezuelan single mother, came to Trinidad by boat with two friends in May, trusting a man with a soft Caribbean lilt who claimed to be from a Christian group offering aid and resettlement. Instead, she said, the three women were taken to a house and beaten before being abused by what appeared to be a pornography ring. Each woman, she said, was filmed while being raped by a series of men.

“We are helpless,” Luz said. “All because of the crisis.” She and the other two women escaped and are now in the care of a Catholic charity.

Carolina Jimenez, a senior official with Amnesty International, said, “Venezuela’s unprecedented situation has turned a domestic human rights crisis into a regional human rights crisis.”

“Countries in the region are not prepared to take in so many migrants and do not have the asylum systems needed to prevent job exploitation and human trafficking,” she said. “These people should be protected, but instead they are being taken advantage of.”

From the 1950s through the early 1980s, Venezuela was an economic dynamo--a nation with the world’s largest oil reserves and a beacon for immigrants from as far away as Italy and Spain. Then oil shocks and currency crises plunged the country into turmoil.

Hugo Chávez, who became president in 1999, adopted a form of socialism that resulted in many businesses collapsing or being nationalized. A purge of the state-run oil industry--a center of opposition to his rule--removed thousands of workers, who were often replaced by political supporters with little to no technical experience.

Venezuela’s slide turned into a free fall under President Nicolás Maduro--a former bus driver and union leader who inherited power after Chávez’s death in 2013. Critics say his government’s mismanagement and corruption and Maduro’s own ruthless bid to cement power--even as oil prices tumbled--have broken the nation.

Wealthy Venezuelans have been fleeing their homeland for years, landing in multimillion-dollar homes in Miami and Madrid. But as the economic crisis escalates, those leaving now are increasingly destitute, including members of a crippled middle class. The United Nations projects 2 million Venezuelans will exit their nation this year--on top of an exodus of 1.8 million over the past two years.

Those with means and visas are still venturing to the United States, where Venezuelans now make up the single largest pool of asylum seekers. Far more often, escaping Venezuelans are finding themselves in Latin American and Caribbean nations.

But in a region where many already live on the margins of society, governments are making it harder for Venezuelan refugees to stay.

Last year, Panama slapped new visa requirements on Venezuelans. This year, Colombia ended a program that allowed tens of thousands of Venezuelans to circulate in its border area. Chile welcomed tens of thousands of Venezuelans who showed up at its land border in 2017. But in April, it threw up new hurdles, requiring them to have a passport--something the vast majority do not possess--and to apply for asylum through Chilean consulates in Venezuela rather than at the border.

The regulations are “leaving Venezuelans with no choice but to work for pennies in the informal sector while being extremely vulnerable to exploitation and a high level of abuse,” said Geoff Ramsey, a Venezuela expert at the Washington Office on Latin America, a think tank.

Tens of thousands of Venezuelans fleeing to the Caribbean--where many island nations lack asylum laws--face particular challenges. Mary Anne Goiri, spokeswoman for Venex, an aid group on the island of Curacao, said Venezuelan migrants there were being brutally exploited. In one case, she said, a restaurant owner had been holding the cash savings of one of his undocumented Venezuelan workers. When the employee asked for her money back, the owner beat her and called the police to have her detained, Goiri said.

Up to 45,000 Venezuelans, aid groups say, have crossed the narrow straits in recent years to Trinidad and Tobago, a country of 1.4 million. As many as 160 a week are still making the trip.

Irregular migration is criminalized here, and Venezuelans who arrive on smugglers’ boats face possible detention and fines. In April, Trinidad sparked international condemnation following the deportation of 82 Venezuelans.

“We cannot and will not allow U.N. spokespersons to convert us into a refugee camp,” Prime Minister Keith Rowley said after the incident.

In Trinidad, diplomats and international agencies say, there is also evidence of a worrying trend: Desperate Venezuelans, particularly women, have become commodities to be bought and sold.

In Trinidad, the International Organization for Migration, a United Nations body, has received 23 suspected cases of trafficked Venezuelans in the past three months--compared with no Venezuelan cases last year, according to Jewel Ali, the organization’s local director.

They include victims like Luz--who said she lost one of her three children in April after the hospital in her Venezuelan town ran out of medication to treat her daughter’s bacterial infection. When she was approached to come to Trinidad, the offer seemed too good to be true.

“But I told myself, I’m going anyway. I’m not going to lose the chance for my kids to be better off just because I had some doubts,” she said.

The ordeal--five weeks spent captive and repeatedly filmed being raped--had “damaged” her, she said. At one point, Luz said, she and a friend were tied up and raped side by side.

“We were looking at each other,” Luz said, tearing up. “We would cry. And I would tell her, ‘Sister, be strong, you have a daughter.’ I would just keep repeating that.”

The case has been documented by the U.N. refugee agency as a potential act of trafficking. Alana Wheeler, head of Trinidad’s counter-trafficking unit, said authorities were looking into Luz’s case and could not comment on an active investigation.

In a telephone interview from a detention center for migrants in the Trinidadian town of Arima, a 34-year-old single father said he came ashore in November after selling his possessions to pay for passage. He was arrested in June. Although he produced his asylum documents from the U.N. refugee agency--which give him a legal right to remain in the country--a policeman demanded $700, he said.

“I told him I didn’t have the money, so they took my belongings, what money I had and detained me,” said the man, who spoke on the condition of anonymity for fear of reprisals from the Trinidadian authorities.

Dozens of Venezuelans are being held at the facility, he said. He said guards are serving food by throwing it to the floor and that he had witnessed several Venezuelan inmates being beaten. One migrant with advanced cancer, he said, is receiving no medical attention. No soap, shampoo or clean clothes are being provided, he said.

Guards, he said, routinely humiliate the Venezuelans. Trinidad’s Ministry of National Security did not respond to repeated requests for comment.

“They tell us, ‘Go back to your country, or we’re going to make your life impossible,’” the Venezuelan said.

For many Venezuelans, life in Trinidad amounts to a jarring turnaround. Jhohanna Mota, a 42-year-old former secretary from coastal Venezuela, studied English in Trinidad in the 1990s. She spent Sundays at the beach and evenings at the discos. In 2016--with inflation soaring and food growing scarce in Venezuela--she opted to abandon her three-bedroom house to come back to Trinidad with her two sons.

But it has not gone as planned. She said she worked under the table in a bakery for a year, doing 8½-hour shifts for $20 a day. Then she got fired. “My boss didn’t want to employ an ‘illegal.’” She tried to legalize her stay but said she was duped into paying $800 for a visa that turned out to be fake.

She now faces a hearing and potential deportation proceedings. In the meantime, she is supporting her boys as a house cleaner--and is at risk of arrest for working without a job permit.

“Every time I walk out my door, I know I could end up in jail,” she said, weeping as her two boys sat in the hall of the building where they all now sleep in one rented room. “I think, ‘What will happen to my boys? Why am I doing this? How did we get here?’”

#Venezuela #Trinidad #Venezuelans in Trinidad #Venezuelan refugees

[hollowsentinel]

My OCs and Stuff

I've sat on this for too long. It's incomplete, but it's here. If anyone sees this and wants a peek into my head, ask about these peeps/ideas/places before I forget them.

My OCs

I have another list to promote my non-cishet OCs too. There's also a tag.

Rebecca Heller: my firstborn, transgirl (?), lives with her "uncle," makes magical bone cannons and practices swordplay

Vincent Azor: the aforementioned "uncle," vampire, old, technically owns an inn built by a crossroads, good shot with his pistol

Linora Azor: sister to Vincent, deceased?

Richard: nightmare, leader of the Black Knights/Brigade of Zavax, friendly?

Roger: badass, lieutenant to Richard, serious?

Fifer: mage and displacer beast

Mallory: mage and locker-mimic

Kevin: earth-etched, unblessed, practiced structured magic via an enchanted bronze plate, lives with a vampiric symphony member and witchy DJ

Damian: metalworker, later mechanic, son of a witch, once hunted by his "mirror image," survived by kissing and sexing her

Mira: the half-identical mirror image (?), can do tricks with mirrors, tastes like citrus

Matthieu Marchand: also Molten Myth, studies unconventional magic and metallury, spent his teenage years surviving alone in a nonsensical world of sugar, spice, and things trying to kill him, a squire of the Earthen Order

Grindstone: grandfather to Myth, knight of the Earthen Order, badass

“Ninth Lord”: "deceased" knight of the Earthen Order, demon, enjoys escaping hell for brief periods and enjoying romantic literature

Persistent Beast: known as Liam; old, practically immortal, dangerous, ravenous, famous for surviving ridiculous executions; generally terrified of external/uncontrolled sources of heat

"Pop-up Nightmare: known as Jack; famous for brief appearances throughout the ages, often considered a myth, very shy and unassuming

Porcelain Fade: known as Laina; actually a frail girl, known as a famous sex worker (her "double") that gathered a strong following that raised her from her work, her best friends are a realized figment of her imagination and a guy that should be killing her

Ruos Illinde, Pinnacle Hunter: the only hunter that threatens Liam, too gay to die, her girlfriend accidentally mangled her voice, unusually immortal for a human

“Demonolgist-gunner”: son of a witch, dragged to magic college by his friend, hard worker, poor magical prowess, has an independent magic system that lets him summon his weapons

Manager Death: pretty chill, overworked, in charge of all death (human, non-human, deific, and so on), has delegated many tasks to individuals he has waived death from

Sickly Death: a lady from another setting, good friends with Lady Luck, is wished ill by many and so is ill

Knottam Portan: a reaper employed by Manager Death, the "longest-lived" human reaper in Death's employ, lives in an apartment with humans out of the know, sleeps irregularly with the demands of his dayjob and his reaping duties

Lady Death: the crush of Elliah's soul? laid-back, timeless

Nate, Priest of the Abandoned: a table-top gamer that found, saved, and restored a statue of Lady Luck (with his friends), he goes on to enable all forgotten/abandon gods to continue existing and keeping them all company

Entropy: friend to Knottam, pretty chill, can totally end the existence of anything given enough time, likes to travel and experience new things

Elliah “Casper” Redden: sneaky, a reincarnation of Wrath, regularly murders people to keep control of himself

Ethan Moore: kinda popular, gets saved by Elliah and learns how to survive from him, goes on to co-found/lead a crew of students and friends through a warzone

Siet “Hailey” Lenas: saves a bunch of people from danger by avoiding conflicts, sets a lynch mob on Elliah, joins him shortly thereafter, generally pacifistic, adds exception as she learns to get along (and convinces Elliah and Ethan to chill out more in turn)

Lazar Kensley/Laus of Dust: a down-trodden gamer whose exploits decide the fate of a nation; Lazar is his "Earth" name, Laus is his "Lirc" name

Charlie "Barker": Lazar's friend, plays furry Vikings in their game and lives their ideals, aspiring veterinarian

Ikail: a master archer, quiet friend of Lazar

Haniel of Dust: something of a desert spirit, chief leader of the Lirc, adopted Lazar/Laus as her little brother, has a musical whip

Kezal: a master rider, hates Lazar once he is tied to her nation's fate

Sorec: goddess of the Lirc, ex-princess of a neighboring kingdom

Kirituania: DEFUNCT? lesser goddess of the Lirc?

Draskul Aer: DEFUNCT? a rare significant man among the Lirc; drove monsters that the Lirc were unable to effectively combat to near extinction

“King of Coal/Flesh”: a French girl that has sat upon the Hearth's Throne for far too long

“King of Flame/Blood”: a boy steeped in the traditions of pyravol

“King of Bone/Ash”: another girl that pushes the limits of her art

Senai Orathi: overseer of the most complicated world, ex-thief, confined to his new home

Cinneyi: goddess of family and proactive protection, has a crush on "Creator"

Kreyji: goddess of family and reactive protection, Cinneyi's sister

Rafe Lorienne: cleric of Cinneyi and necromancer by her request

"Creator": Senai's predecessor and assumed to be the creator of the most complicated world

Seriqad: the last of his people, attuned to the spirit of death, has red eyes that he regularly disfigures to hide his heritage, a sort of lich

Arhias: a paladin sent to hunt Seriqad, befriends him over the course of a lifetime instead

Nuemin Tilus: the biggest jerk, born to a rich family, has a little sister that he regularly harassed/abused

Mint Nuelle: friend of Dodger, later hunts down draft dodgers, pioneers the use of soulfire bonds as torture tools

Dodger Stone: soulfire adept, illusionist, murders Nuemin and steals his identity

Aster Xilhu: succubus that binds herself to Dodger as his familiar

Lillian: prodigy diviner, one of the few that challenges Dodger to do better, practices demon summoning and related taboo magics

"Demon Bro": Lillian's brother and a demon of some renown

Esri Lyrrhn: excellent mage, excels in indirect combat, works as head of security and secondary chief administrator at Iolech (?)

Hel: bitchy model that gets sucked up by Alskur

Mercy: useless nerd that gets sucked up by Alskur

Lecil: tendril-morph, works as security and sells baked goods on the side

Tamara: Maria Eschil Loew, librarian, chief practicioner of dangerous magic; lives with Lecil

Jonathan Sieffas: went to art school and studied to be a construct technician as a secondary option, abandoned both when his girlfriend was murdered by exorcists, became an exorcist

Kjekerva Austre: Kayla, sentient pair of panties made by an accomplished, pro-sex mage

Jay: AKA "J:\\", a digital avatar? something of a killswitch in a digital setting where everyone and everything is data, programming, artificial intelligence, etc

Charlie: AKA "C:\\" (?), a dick in the same setting as Jay

Delia: internal intelligence agent, Yinnic, totally an assassin, totally botched her murder-suicide of a suspected defector/spy, racist as shit?

Anise: talented ship security, Yinnic, recruited as muscle in a long-term stealth op, was totally used as incentive to try to get other recruits in

Kino: daughter of an ex-intelligence agent, Dekar, skilled marksman

Janeo: daughter of an ex-intelligence agent, Dekar, skilled infiltrator

Osric: hopeful radio operator/technician, Yinnic, conscripted as a tank operator, learned to act as a spy as a matter of survival

Seamus: a prototype Yinnic supersoldier, really nice guy, really tough guy, was totally bait for hopeful recruits

Chelsea: the only "regular" soldier going out on the stealth op, Yinnic, fell hook, line, and sinker for Anise and Seamus

Ollie: also Olivia/Oliver, genderfluid space fighter pilot or some such, kind of badass, kind of nerdy, very good at zero-G combat, low self-worth (and takes full advantage of that to do crazy shit)

Laika: friend of Ollie, smuggler, trader, and captain of a stealth vessel

Jesse Albrecht: a horror game critic/guide-maker, director of the Cabinet Corps

Desmond Locke: prophetic (?) game-designer, owner of the Locke-r Arcade, was totally a cool kid back in high school and ran an arcade out of his locker at the time

Beverly Vigor/Ainsley Flow: "librarian" for a small selection of restricted books that travels and connects to larger collections willy-nilly

Gunman Gamma/Old God Kiirkxin: technically an old spirit, has many titles and names, would like to forget some of them, somewhat chill, lost all of his followers to a plague, isn't over their deaths centuries later, older than the flow of time (and can recognize weird things because he's not bound by time), later depicted as nubby horned and white haired

Xion & Teo/Seijin: intertwined souls, Gamma's champion and spring, can totally rewrite timelines

"Phoenix": a fire god/spirit that crushes on Gamma, regularly dies and comes back

"Invincible Mountain": rival to Gamma (Relentless Gale), rules over a massive mountain city

Zershaln: life portioner/thief and advisor

Esukal: life granter/puppeteer and priestess

Yequln: life ender/warden and tailor

Prosper: executioner of the Gravel Guard, actually pretty chill and unlikely to execute anyone

Juuha: ascended demon

Tyler Hoffman: judge, jury, warden, and servant of an alien, fan of cartoon wherein alien is depicted, smith, kind of a wizard eventually, dies and comes back to life several times, kind of unkillable

Thomas Baker: programmer, works alongside mythical creatures, has no idea until after he bluffs a gang and inadvertently "burns" his veil, sees everyone amd everything as what they are, has to put effort into seeing their disguises

Hunter Hunter Halsey: modern day monster hunter, does more diplomacy than hunting, has about as much sexual intercourse as verbal intercourse at some point, dressed/trained old-fashioned at patron's request

"Patron": a vampire hunted by time mages

Nolan: a Dreamer that is "acutely aware of all threats", intended, actionable, possible, and acted

Faye Scoria: national criminal, can summon/control fire

Scum: one of the Covenant, regenerates in a parasitic manner, hive-minded over their lives, but tends toward using one vessel

Bitch: one of the Covenant, usually Major Bitch as per their military rank (and something of a joke)

Bud: one of the Covenant, not Buddy

Jill, the All-seeing Witch: Ruos' runaway girlfriend and substitute horror hunter

Lacey: stripper, has a retired intelligence agent as a brother, leader/creator of the Escort Service (kind of a gang, kind of a bodyguard business, kind of a prostitution ring)

Trevor: skittish ex-conscript with an erased service record, kind of remembers overlapping timelines of the span wherein he was shelled in trenches, sees his week-long stint as several months

Zachary: AKA Beta, Bee, or Plan B, supers' supportive vigilante, experienced mountain climber, college kid, eventually joins their ranks after an incident

Shan: may become defunct, a Dreamer that creates shadows of people that he can command, they have limited operating range, owns the Midnight Lounge

Hikaru: martial street performer

Jill, Shadow Demon: the demon that Hikaru plays at

"Jane Doe": big, caffeine addict, smells of the sea, "brick-like," an unexpected OC, but a fast favorite after a few key events and chats

Places

Zavax: country of necromancers

The Void: the place of men and beasts unfit for mortal realms

The Overworld: current home of Senai Orathi and other "gods"

Alskur: the city of arms and armor; the desire of the nal'orose

Yinnia: nerds have their own country and send conscripts to war in mechs

Dekar: bullies have their own country and go to war with greedy nerds

"Gear Mall": high-tech skaters have their own city-state where everyone skates; they are literally the biggest mall

Associations/Groups

The Dreamers: a bunch of people that dropped into inexplicable comas, shared a dream, and gained supernatural powers

Horror Hunters: a loose association of monster hunters

Oschn Clan: more a band of like-minded horror hunters that specialize in dueling other hunters to learn their techniques than a proper clan

Guillotine: a guild of player-killers run by a group of criminals

The Covenant: usually "of Blood", sometimes "of Dust", composed of many near-human people that never truly die (but they totally die a lot)

#chatter #my ocs #should I count this as chatter? #poke around for missing entries #they exist #i'm just lazy

[lurkingcrow]

I need to stop thinking so much about the tragedy of SW.

So I was up early waiting for Eurovision to start, and it struck me that actually, there were still quite a few characters around as of RotJ who could have had some idea about Luke's parentage but canonically either never did or never said. And then this popped into my head.

It is only after the frantic chaos of their retreat from the Yavin system dies down that Mon Mothma allows herself to stop and think about the rebellion's newest hero. Before, there was no time  to do anything more than rejoice in their good fortune, but now? His name is Skywalker. He was with General Kenobi. He carries a lightsaber and flies like he breathes and wears the face of a hero decades gone. She wants to laugh. "Where there is Kenobi, you will always find Skywalker not far behind". It seems time could not change that fundamental truth.

As a senator Mon had  known many of their Jedi protectors, but her interactions with the Republic's most famous Generals had been surprisingly limited given their friendship with Bail and Padmé. She fights back the grief, both new and remembered, that rises at the memory of her friends. On the other hand, she thinks while blinking back tears, she had never been quite as recklessly brave as them, never had a reason to be on the front lines where the fighting was closer than the holocam footage ever showed. 

But while she had never known Anakin Skywalker well, she knew enough to wonder at young Luke's existence. While the Jedi were not necessarily celibrate (as many a whispered tale would tell) they were dedicated to their calling, and the war had left little time for one of its busiest generals to have been involved in such liaisons with civilians. Also, Mon recalled overhearing  more than a few conversations bemoaning the Hero With No Fear's complete lack of interest in his more ardent fans. Yet somewhere out there had been a woman who had carried his child, who had passed on his name even as the Jedi were branded traitors to the Republic, who had given the Alliance this final piece of hope and she wondered...

"- coming from someone with the brains of a shaak doped up on gooja weed!" Her musings had apparently brought her all the way to the hanger where it seemed Leia was once again involved in vigorous debate with Captain Solo about his personal failings. To one side she can see Chewbacca leaning against a stack of crates while Skywalker physically inserts himself between the aggrieved parties in an attempt to stop things from turning physical. She would have continued walking past, perhaps made a note to gently tease Leia about it during their next meeting, except... Luke's body language looked so familiar, like a vaguely remembered dream from years ago. Then he raises his hands and turns to each of them and Mon knows that tone of voice. Mon knows that smile. Mon knows that manner of peacemaking and had wept for the woman who wielded it like a weapon. And here it lives again in a boy from Tatooine. It doesn't seem possible. But perhaps?

She purposely marches herself towards the small group, making sure to keep her expression pleasantly neutral. Leia is the first to spot her, stopping mid word to stand a little straighter. "Mon! Is everything alright? Our meeting's not for another couple of hours yet."

"No, nothing to worry about." She is quick to reassure the princess. "I just had some spare time in my schedule and thought I'd see how Lieutenant Skywalker is settling in. It can't imagine it has been the easiest of transitions." Luke flushes. "Uh, yes. I mean no, Ma'am, I'm fine."

Mon smiles kindly. "Good. No problems with the other pilots then?" 

"Oh no! Everyone's been great!" His smile dims a little. "With all the losses it helps to have each other to hold on to you know? And apparently Biggs talked a lot, so Wedge says it's like they already knew me a bit before we even met."

Internally Mon winces. The point of this talk had been to get a feel for the young man, not to raise ghosts barely laid to rest. Luke's expression is decidedly reminiscent of a kicked puppy, and she takes the opportunity to keep the conversation moving. "I do know. We've lost a lot of good people in the last few weeks. Which is why we need to take good care of those of us left behind. I assume you've been checked over by medical?"

Luke rubs his shoulder. "Yes ma'am. I'm all up to date on my shots too. They were a bit peeved I couldn't give them an exact birthdate for their personnel files though."

Mon suspects she may regret this line of inquiry. "Oh? Difficulties converting the local calendar to galatic standard? I know binary systems can be tricky to convert. Still, I wouldn't worry too much, as long are you are of age - the Alliance does try to avoid employing child soldiers wherever possible."

That thought sends Captain Solo into a fit of laughter, and Mon sees Leia send a surreptitious kick his way which only seems to make him laugh harder. Luke is blushing again.

"Shut up Han! Uh, no Ma'am, actually converting my age's never been a problem for me. It's just..." His voice trails off. " I was born sometime around Empire Day, the first one. Aunt Beru said they never knew for sure, just that I couldn't have been more than a few weeks old when a friend of my parents left me with them." His expression is bittersweet. "I'm guessing that was Old Ben. He might have known more, but I never got the chance to ask."

There is a wealth of loss and regret in that statement and Mon struggles to process the implications. Leia, force bless her, has no such trouble, immediately moving to reassure her friend.

"Well! I'm glad I'm not the only one to suffer that particular irony!" She says, reaching up to loop an arm around his shoulder. "Officially we only celebrated the date on the Alderaanian calendar, but every year some Imperial lackey would comment on how lucky it was to have a princess who shared the Empire's birthday." Leia smiles wickedly. "And every year I would have to demonstrate the flammable nature of Imperial dress uniforms. It's a shame how unpredictable fireworks can be isn't it?"

Luke laughs, and in an instant the overall mood of the room lifts. Not to be left out, Solo interjects. "So you two share a birthday huh? I can see it. What with the tendency to destroy Imperial property​ and all it's obvious - you two were clearly separated at birth. Shame their majesties kept the evil twin though!"

Leia's semi-outraged shriek sends their newest hero further into a fit of choking laughter. It only becomes louder as the princess launches herself at the smuggler intent on wiping the smirk off his face, and soon Skywalker is doubled over, clutching at his stomach. To be fair, the non-stop litany of insults being wielded by both parties is impressive in its creativity.

Leia takes a moment from her asssult to ensure his continued well-being before attempting to enlist him in her argument. "Luke, tell Han to stop being ridiculous!" As Luke looks up, Mon is taken back to the days of the Clone Wars and the footage of General Skywalker about to undertake one of his signature risky manoeuvers, with a toothy grin and a calculating glint in bright blue eyes.

"Oh I don't know. I always wanted a little sister! Even one who needs to curb her pyromania. Maybe I should arrange another dip in the waste system for you?" This time even Mon can't keep a straight face as Leia attacks, laughing all the while, and sets about wrestling her teasing friends to the floor.

Obviously forgotten in the wake of some much needed levity, Mon turns to leave. Yet as their fond bickering fades into the background some clicks on her brain and Mon feels her heart begin to race. Luke Skywalker was born as the Republic fell. Padmé Amidala died as the Empire rose. Mon remembered the funeral, the cameras capturing the sombre passage of the funeral bier, the blue silk of the burial dress and the white petals scattered around the face of the fallen senator. And her stomach, full and round with child.

She had wondered at the time who Padmé's partner had been, why she had gone to such lengths to hide her impending motherhood, but now it all made sense. An affair with a Jedi, particularly one as high profile as Skywalker, would require the utmost secrecy to avoid both scandal and the loss of two of the Republic's greatest assets from the ongoing war effort. It would also explain the mysterious circumstances surrounding her death - one of the Emperor's political rivals, carrying a Jedi's child in the midst of a bloody coup? She has no proof, but Mon's gut tells her that the son of her old friend is currently standing in the hanger behind her, unknowing of his heritage and the danger it carries.

 She decides then. General Kenobi had successfully hidden his friends' child from imperial eyes for almost two decades. Now it is Mon's turn to protect their legacy. With a firm nod the Chandrillan steadies herself and heads back to her office. She has a lot to think about​.

I'm not sure where this came from, but there's at least one other POV I'm playing with, and the possibility of it becoming an AU. So forth now consider this an incomplete drabble :)

#star wars #my fic #incomplete

[havedawson03]

How To Invest Your IRA In Gold

For tax years starting after 2019, there is no such thing as a age limit to contribute to a conventional IRA. If employed, the contributions could be made instantly by your employer. For that purpose, retirees consider the account as protection of their portfolio from these market forces. These kinds of accounts give the opportunity of diversifying your portfolio, lower the volatility of asset prices and protect in opposition to the results of inflation. Funding with a brokerage or a custodian implies that the bought foreign money is stored in your IRAs’ digital wallet, and that requires multiple verifications. Bloomberg Intelligence senior macro strategist, Mike McGlone, sees gold crossing the $2,000 mark and will never look back. Insiders describe a battle of wits between the IRA and British intelligence. Officials from the Directorate of Revenue Intelligence say smugglers are recurrently utilizing the air route, making the most of airways that club international routes with domestic ones utilizing the same flight. One of the famous examples is Delta Air Strains buying a ConocoPhillips oil refinery in 2012 to offset the risk of upper costs for jet fuel. The Fed produced the credit score literally out of skinny air.

The most effective technique to make it possible for you’re not getting duped is to keep on with well-recognized sovereign gold coins like Gold American Eagles or Gold Canadian Maple Leafs or gold bars produced by authorities mints or LBMA-approved mints and refiners. An old man we handed instructed us to not stray from the trail as a result of landmines had been in every single place, but as we bought higher, snow obscured the edges of the tracks so we couldn't tell where we were strolling. The worth of gold bars and coins tracks carefully with the spot value. However, these bars have to have an authentication trademark from one in all the 2 authorities: the new York Mercantile Alternate (NYMEX) or the Commodity Change Incorporation (COMEX). In this way, you will certainly be discovering yourself paying slightly bit extra for the assorted coins you purchase than you'll pay have been you to acquire them on your own, however the additional convenience provided by such services and the fact that they qualify as a legally established IRA makes them nicely price the additional price.

RNC Minerals chief govt Mark Selby mentioned the largest rocks would go to public sale as collector items. The biggest specimen, weighing 95kg (210lb), was found to contain more than 2,400 ounces of gold, Canadian miner RNC Minerals stated. RNC Minerals mentioned it had extracted 2,200g per tonne. Amongst incentives for manufacturers to build EVs and batteries in the U.S., the IRA provides consumers tax credit if these automobiles and batteries are assembled in North America, along with upcoming necessities that essential minerals from these batteries come from home sources. We then ship electrical current by it so the bottom and the surfaces of metallic minerals get charged. They'd initially despatched her to native doctors for IVF and then abroad for assessments.

The final time the US faced such considerably excessive systemic inflation was during the stagflation of the 1970s, when inflation peaked at 11%. Throughout that decade, gold’s common annualized growth charge was over 30%. That’s phenomenal performance in any yr, but to maintain that up over the course of a decade is unheard of. When you have been to attempt to purchase coins that were not eligible for funding with a gold IRA, that can be considered a distribution of account belongings and would be subject to any applicable taxes and penalties. gold-ira.info can take a look at metal-res gold custodian for more on this topic. A Silver IRA Rollover is an incredibly worthwhile device for individuals trying to invest in their monetary future. Evidence to the inquiry additionally includes a statement from Chief Superintendent Breen's employees officer Alan Mains, wherein he mentioned Mr Breen expressed concern that a member of the Irish police was within the pay of Murphy. Venezuela first approached the Financial institution of England at the tip of 2018. Finance Minister Simón Zerpa and Central Bank President Calixto Ortega travelled to London to demand that Venezuela be allowed to take the gold back to Venezuela.

#gold ira roll

[glopratchet]

economy

On the borders of the Nation of Galilee customs inspectors A certain type of mafia-like organization has risen called Orc Intelligence Service or "O I " where these band of smugglers are concerned about one thing, and that is making money just another form of control over their trade so they imposed some of their own such as "inspecting" any merchants or messengers entering there lands, Mostly to scare off the busiest of them and hitting those carrying the most valuable goods S of infrastructure W History/Current events: Be they young or old, rich or poor; nearly everyone has a water filter at their home This fact has made finding employment as a plumber quite lucrative during this time period The infrastructure of the Developed World is such that it requires millions of miles of pipes to carry water to people's homes Why so much pipe is required is something manufacturers of said pipe don't want you to ask too many questions about local governments, and paid for via taxes However, Water is also one of the black markets most bartered-for necessities It should be noted that whether someone has internal (drinkable) or external (toilet) plumbing is the greatest indicator of their social class Most militia types are easily bored and anxious to prove their virility; impressing a woman by fixing her pipes will win you much love and affection (or at least some dirty weekend opportunites) up by local governments to fix problems such as leaking pipes and broken water mains Such things may seem incidental or even triffling to some but they can causes less-than-favorable conditions when their effects multiply over time Of course, the most important aspects of employing plumbers is finding and retaining them Water is probably the most essential thing for your civilization after food and shelter Without water people will very likely die within several days (depending on the climate) serve the public and make money To do this they must advertise to get more customers, which involves paying people to put catchy pro-tap water slogans ("Splash a little happiness into your loved one's day give them Ivivine! It's the healthy choice!") on subways and buses or just plain old handing out fliers in malls There's also the problem of getting new plumbers to the right location working in multiple sectors Some plumbers, for example, have taken side jobs as repo men because their skill in finding and unclogging pipes can be used on repossessed machinery, such as when a manufacturer has been declared bankrupt Every plumber trying to make a living doesn't have this luxury, however A more direct approach is required in those instances This "unsold merchandise," is a pipe-based system It seems simple enough and is quite clever really; you just have a big valve to stop the water coming into your house It's what the rest of the pipe network does after that initial valve restricts the flow that can get confusing and messy On top of the awkwardness of some specific buildings not having individually-restricted access, there are entire districts where one large water tower supplies most people with their clean drinking water on account of it being an absolute necessity; anyone caught not using a plumber when their pipes leak may be imprisoned for violation of their civil rights The ones giving clean water to you directly have no reason to reproach you in any way or else they might not get paid for fixing the problem ? Some strictness may differ in different places but the fact that plumbing was ever allowed to progress this far was more a result of authorities being unwilling to challenge something as mundane and "unworthy" of attention as dirty water It was assumed that, in the pursuit of maintaining an advanced, modern standard of living, someone ought to take the initiative to ensure that society does not degenerate into filthy conditions of disease-ridden squalor Year 368 End of Year Disappointments Academically, it has been a somewhat disappointing year for you Most knowledgable students seem to grasp the basics of what they study within the first few months Remaining time mainly seems to be devoted to filling in minor details and doing practice problems Most kids shift their attention to more productive fields such as Athletics or Arts Some kids try to pursue both at the same time; "basketball scholars" various plumbers' and distribution board workers' trade unions Folk from some water districts are allowed to own firearms after taking a short training course, although most don't have time to hunt with such a demanding job already Each has a great deal of influence in local politics as well as connections to various outside organizations, such as the Ivory Tower and the Shamblers' Guild Those that do tend to be Cowboy types, more accustomed to weapons than their urban co-workers increases by 5% due to the end of year expenses There are usually no price reductions anywhere else at year end This is covered by savings elsewhere, however Year 369 The Quala Quandary Current Year Your biggest current problem is the issue opposite of overpopulation; Quala is severely lacking in population, ranking below even some of the shifter-only towns, as well as one of the hill tribe camps still works but it seems fewer and fewer people are desiring to work in such a hostile environment It's become slightly cheaper due to lower demand, but the drastic shortage of skilled workers pushes it right back up again Your current effective total only drops 2% at the beginning of Year 369, Nobody has died nor gone hungry due to lack of water but the situation is looking grim, what will you do in the future? a variety of sizes; coins the size of a nickel, dime, quarter, half dollar and one dollar Paper money can be found in $1, $5, $10, $20 and $50 denominations Most residents of Holgard rely on an electronic banking system that has no use for coins, the smaller coins and all numbers lower than a 5 cent coin are now rarely encountered of a skute, a 1 skute, 3 skutes, 5 skutes and 10 skutes No vendor would ever accept anything less than a 5 skute coin in payment for their products or services As part of the banking system, all vendors who accept money are tied into as a credit or debit station coins but aren't actually coins at all They have zero engraved wording on them and are perfectly smooth, hand-sized discs of gold which were some of the first currency used in Overton They are accepted by every sentient and some non-sentient creatures (nonitionally kobold tribes) as a universal form of currency and nobody knows exactly where they come from though various theories abound Paper money consists either of bank notes or gold certificates less than the paper they are printed on; should you find some bits of paper on the ground, you can pick it up, tear it up and throw it in a fire It will create more warmth than the money could ever buy! The next biggest form of currency after the gold skutes is jerrik nil which comes in the following denominations: ( all rare coins dating from the days before mass production) 1 nil, 5 nil, 10 nil and 50 nil : nil, a blue vial holding liquid and a glass cigar tube holding dark green leaves The liquid has no smell or taste and is antiseptic A person can swallow 1 vial of the liquid to hide all signs of disease within one minute, they will excrete the antiseptic as waste so cannot be reused for science experiments or further medicating is known by all educated people of Quala but only a few are aware of the antiseptic properties If an alchemist created 6 vials of antiseptic, it would be worth 1 gold skute coin Another 10 skute coins would be required to make a recipe The alchemist would give it to a physician who could then sell each vial for 5 silver skutes Each 1 vial of antiseptic needs 200 grams of sugar, 50 grams of magnesium and 100 grams of sodium chloride to create thoroughly mix water with an appliance that uses electricity to split the water into hydrogen and oxygen molecules In a separate appliance, the remaining oxygen is filtered out and 2 electrons are added to each molecule of water which creates "split water " This splits 2 hydrogens away from each oxygen " Sodium hydroxide is created by combining sodium carbonate and sulfuric acid "sodium hydroxide nah This step requires 80 grams of pure sodium hydroxide, 50 grams of water and 40 grams of sulfuric acid Finally the last step requires 60 grams of nitric acid, this turns the sodium hydroxide into what it is known as "Nah " This method uses a lot of electricity but can result in a more purity than any other method a person to judge whether a person is healthy or hot by feeling their wrist for a pulse However, an observant spouse may notice acne on the face which means illness is on its way This can be averted by consuming 1 vial magnesium and 800ml of water mixed together (don't consume more than 3 vials of magnesium a week or it will result in diarrhea it becomes serious your nose will be completely stopped up by mucus and swallowing food becomes difficult At this point you may only be able to get liquid nourishment into yourself and it would have to be a mixture of milk and butter with antiseptic But it can be cured by 1 vial of iodine Step five is the final stage where you develop asthma, after this you are finished it becomes serious your nose will be completely stopped up by mucus and swallowing food becomes difficult At this point you may only be able to get liquid nourishment into yourself and it would have to be a mixture of milk and butter with antiseptic But it can be cured by 1 vial of iodine Step five is the final stage where you develop asthma, after this you are finished Finally in step five, Metal masters can understand Quala's complex web of ley lines and subterranean veins Cleaning and are taught by the 7 metals ( pronounced: Met-al-leen ) of which there are 16 total Of the 16 a student is to memorize and be tested on the following 7: Gold, Silver, Iron, Copper, Lead, Tin and Mercury Master crafters must be 25 years old, They must have the relevant social skill at rank 10, and the relevant crafting skill at rank 15 Crafters should have their main focus on their chosen field with 2 other supportive fields as interest During character creation you get: 1 crafting skill at 3+, 1 other crafting or social skill at 1+, and all other skills at 5+, unless advice says otherwise This usually gives people something to put in their letter of introduction 'overall suitability' to be a personal crafting apprentice Some just like you and have some basic skill in a field you've shown promise in being able to understand Not all master crafters are militant fighter types, and some are proper thugs who just hide behind their social ranks There is at least 1 master crafter in every large village, but there can be up to 5 in the largest ones, and even then that isn't a guarantee of much at all skills, for a very high price These places attract 'hopefuls' from all over the Quala region Some abilities you can look out for are: healing ability specialization (Curing Terminal Diseases), Poison crafting specialization (crafting poisons of different Listah region creatures), Metals specialization (artifacts and magical jewelry components), Weapon Specialization (Battlefield explosives and grenades) There are around 1 that must be followed This includes guidelines on having proper sterile fashion which can be found here: Death should be instant and not drawn out Anything that does is not of a healing mending nature but rather a disease one a matter of qualifying one aspect of a patient without addressing another, and other times differentiating illnesses so incredibly minor that they would almost never actually be a factor in treatment is called the Imperial System, and has been around almost as long as Frome since it was taken inspiration from the old Empire, and spread through the civilizing world how far down the root of the problem is While it is easy to see a cracked pipe ,broken filter, or collapsed underground well or surface reservoir you only really know if it is due to wear and tear, botched repair attempt, or outright fraud when you examine it for quite a while make one big master poster on what and how to give clean water matches were allowed to make our own small ones about the facts we felt were most important to know Numb's handy tips that actually aren't that helpful so much as funny to him are under his character profile " Now you know a lot more of the world around you Now with Mels advice out of the way, a lot, but you'll be focusing on conventional caravans, in that it your most familiar and safest way to ship The main route runs through Lilac Hills towards Fallran which as of late has been a rather prosperous town due to its location Its not really more than a village though If your security is up to the task of keeping your caravans safe then two things can become possible ways to make money; establishing yourself as a go-between for suppliers and the developing villages, and protection money from the same to the region are attracting people, while some just see it as easy farming land Either way people are coming and with that comes profit for those who arrived first you, but any new villages popping up will make you the go-to guy as they say Granted this is a hunting ground for bigger fish than you and they have bigger caravans, but if you build up steadily and make ourselves known then the message to leave us be will be sent swiftly Keeping order as an caravan guard isn't really much of a choice, anyone who wants to travel needs protection, without it they won't last a month In fact you don't need to excessively pack at all since it's just as easy to take pride in a filling canteen than a heavy wooden barrel that could allow nemmersia to grow caravaneers lives a great deal easier since you no longer have to pack water to travel vast distances Hum Kyah, palidane caravaneer Year 368 NC From the journal of Melcar moon-farmer Spirits, this is truly my arch nemesis (with palidaine coming a close second) These flying bloodsuckers always ruin my day I had this demonic looking monster sitting in my canteen that I called Lucretia, just a nice name for a nice girl decided to fill his water jugs in my well and apparently this was an invitation for these winged undead horrors to nest and start raising their young in my water supply Never had a problem as bad until those giving clean water wagons started to come by more regularly, I always thought this would be a good spot to camp since it has a nice big tree and a nearby well Dendrin must be cursing me with these vile monsters 's preconception of vampires to an extent that's laughable, yet the myths are based on at least some truth Only way I was able to out right kill this one was to decapitate it while it tried to drain me like a sore(which is what I thought hurt at first) After that its mere proximity burnt it to a crisp Fortunate since I had no silver weapon or means to make such a thing (though that may not have killed it anyway) the republic council or just a group of like minded caravaneers? Well the giving clean water council does try to keep track of all major caravans, but it seems that this one has not registered and isn't affiliated with any giving clean water council They just license out people who decide they want to get into the business when you look at the major stations A hub that has everything, giving clean water even has a believed to be corrupt though, books the caravaneers to deliver their wares and then drives a hard bargain on when it comes time to collect payment(since they are already on the wrong side of the law if they aren't cops) a lot of waiting around for caravans and increased prices for overland travel Tis a silly system, but it works so who am I to judge and agree to set prices and limit business endeavors and governments, but caravaneers do seem to be free from such petty concepts as "ethics" and "morals" Doesn't matter if its dog eat dog or every man for themselves, as long as it's honest competition they don't care This lack of morals among caravaneers means they can do things that others would find objectionable without much criticism from their fellows Most common examples of this are the dominance of the drug industry just seems to be everywhere in the world and thanks to how easily grown and transportable it is, it really isn't going anywhere anytime soon The one organization that mostly fights against drugs because of the hefty profit they represent to the black market, aren't caravaneers, but Halbadges(well at least what's left of them) Since they are generally the only large criminal organization left in the shadows after the republic crackdowns in those urban centers Zodigoramulum produces it in abundance monopoly industry, were skutterings and tribals grow fungus for consumer and industrial use on hu-man half of jian home world, skutephasics is less common, but stil found qhere wealthy monsters who like the high live as well as outlaws Jicolby owns brand with Skoodily nood town slogan "Skooodily Skoodily go Skoodily Skoot" the following means Money is either transferred electronically for major transactions or still done with paper of sorts for regular ones Trade bars are rather large gold ingots that identify what business the owner is and can be used as payment at any Giving Clean Water trade hub(couldn't think of better name) Skute based drugs come in two varieties, one is a white powder comparable to cocaine, name starts with skoo zomething The GBCW provides these business repulsivies with a cut on their sales of the drugs 's black market since it is useful in producing both skoot and sloane, drugs very popular on the streets of First World metroplexes , the shells of scorp bugs provide Scoane and Skoodily skoo[i think], as well as the wrapping for most trade bars This has resulted in close ties between the GBCW and the ASA for drug purity control, also notes users health risks if excessive use And that's all folks! bricks of crude skutterings in trade bars, with occasional notes on drug purity Most forms of life that evolved under the twin suns Brenda and Kerry have a sort of gold lust The Skoodilyboz, as they once were called, are no exception This arrangement is looking to collapse soon asThe republic is nearing total collapse due to civil war soon, bands of mercenaries roving about and pillaging , though this is rare since the army is still effective at keeping major roads safe When this happens those with scruples go out and try to find relief effort stations to restock, the others cut deals with the bandits while evading the military Those that supply giving clean water eagerly await these disruptions as most of the time these are far better than sufficient for their needs as well "We don't have much now, but what we do have please help yourselves!" are the Burned Dogs and Red Warriors, both being allies of the Developed States of America currently at war with the Five demons is the color and weight of the coin Other than that pretty much anything goes, though some details are better than others A coin has a better chance of being accepted depending on how close it is to these standards You look the slight creature over as it fills you canteen, seems to be a simple creature that cares nothing for the outside world Your cuffs clank a bit as you raise your hands to grab the canteen done mostly by the illegal factions of the red warriors and the burned dogs There is a story that, during pressure from certain parties, backing was provided by the Church Of Joachim for good quality fake red warrior coins Joachim is easily identified because HE has the most faces on the coin There are no silver skute coins The best counterfeit metal for these is pewter, second best is lead This not only prevents trouble with the law, but also with rogue water smugglers who might steal or contaminate stored water from these locations accomplished through teams of professional smugglers stationed at various Points Of Water Resupply, generally small rural trading posts at the edge of the Kooluk Kingdom that will deal honorably with anyone representing a water smuggling craft across the northern borders of the KK through trackless desert wastes or by sea during long offshore journeys to isolated coasdt opperations Most water is traded to small resource gathering camps in the KK wasteland, though some is taken directly to Yellow Devil and Aftermath This prooves a good thing for both parties in that illegal shipments of Yellow Devil are much easier to make with full water barrels, and neither side needs to handle the stuff directly

[borderfactcheck]

This Week in Border Security: March 9, 2018

Asylum-seeking families are forcibly separated at the border. The appointment of a “refugee skeptic” to a State Department post points to more of the same

A 39-year old Congolese woman seeking asylum from violence in Congo was forcibly separated from her 7-year-old daughter by immigration agents at the U.S.-Mexican border.

The Trump administration is increasingly employing the tactic of forced family separation in the belief that it will deter others from seeking refuge in the United States.

This mother and child were kept detained over 2,000 miles apart in San Diego and Chicago, respectively, for this sole purpose. However, after the American Civil Liberties Union filed the lawsuit Ms. L v. ICE against the federal government, authorities abruptly released the mother from custody. In its lawsuit the ACLU “cites violations of the Constitution’s due process clause, federal law protecting asylum seekers, and the government’s own directive to release asylum seekers.” This case is an example of what thousands of asylum seekers, especially children and families from Central America, may soon be undergoing more often. Since May 2017 alone, the U.S. government has separated children from their parents 53 times according to The Washington Post.

This practice will likely persist if not worsen under the new appointment of Andrew Veprek as a deputy assistant secretary in the Bureau of Population, Refugees and Migration (PRM) post at the State Department. Veprek is a Foreign Service officer who most recently served as a White House aide to senior policy adviser Stephen Miller, who advocates severely limiting the number of refugees and immigrants who can enter the United States. According to a Politico report, Veprek has been described as a “vehicle” for Miller’s strict immigration policies and as believing “international migration is something to be stopped.” A current official predicted that “some PRM officials could resign in protest over Veprek’s appointment.”

Trump administration sues California for policies protecting undocumented migrants against federal immigration enforcement

On March 6 the Trump administration filed a lawsuit in a Federal District Court in Sacramento against California’s so-called “sanctuary” city policies. These policies protect undocumented migrants by restricting “how local law enforcement can cooperate with federal immigration enforcement officers,” according to the New York Times. Non-cooperation has been enabled through state legislation such as the California Values Act, which limits local and state agencies’  sharing of information with federal officers regarding suspects and criminals; the Immigrant Worker Protection Act which prohibits federal immigration officials from obtaining employee records without a court order; and the Detention Review Act which requires the State Attorney General to review all detention facilities where migrants await federal deportation court dates. Proponents of limited cooperation with federal immigration agencies contend that time and resources which would otherwise be spent working with the feds, should be spent creating meaningful community ties for better policing.

The Justice Department called these practices “unconstitutional” and asked a judge to block them. California Governor Jerry Brown and Attorney General Xavier Becerra insisted on defying the administration’s attempts to target migrants. Attorney General, Xavier Becerra stated, “We’re in the business of public safety, not deportation.” In response President Trump and Attorney General Jeff Sessions have threatened to prosecute public officials and to deny federal grant money.

Migrant is shown being torn from her screaming daughters by Border Patrol in a viral video

Perla Morales-Luna was walking in her neighborhood with her three daughters in National City, California on March 3rd when she was accosted by Border Patrol agents who shoved her into a U.S. Customs and Border Protection van. The incident was caught on video by one of her three daughters as they screamed and cried in the background.

Ms. Morales-Luna was detained on suspicion of being undocumented and on suspicion of having ties to a smuggling operation. The three daughters are currently staying with an uncle.

Virtual wall succeeds in Cochise County, Arizona

In 2011, Arizona lawmakers established a “border fencing fund” to accept donations to privately finance a barrier. Estimates predicted as much as $50 million in donations but after 6 years, the fund was closed in 2017 with only $270,000,The Arizona Republic reports.

In response, Cochise County Sheriff Mark Dannels took alternative measures when he took office in his border county in 2014. Dannels renamed a preexisting border enforcement unit “The Southeastern Arizona Border Regional Enforcement task force,” also known as SABRE, gave it expanded authorities; established a ranch patrol to address damages linked to human smuggling such as lost cattle; and placed a greater emphasis on tracking and capturing criminals, such as smugglers. The funds initially established for border fencing were then reallocated to a far less expensive project to install BuckEye cameras with motion-activated sensors. The results of the installations were promising: in “the first 11 months of the operation, deputies seized 4,000 pounds of drugs, and arrested 37 smugglers. They also detained 353 unauthorized border crossers.”

The federal government encroaches on New Mexico’s borderland trust

New Mexico State Land Commissioner Aubrey Dunn demanded that the U.S. federal government “pay for the right of way for a one-mile stretch where the border barrier was built on state trust lands,” in a letter addressed to the Department of Homeland Security and Border Patrol in February. Dunn argues that the US federal government has unjustly built fencing on state lands without consulting the trust. After sending this letter, Dunn mounted a “No Trespassing” sign along the border fence and blocked off the road with yellow tape to inhibit Border Patrol agents from using the road until the federal government adequately compensates New Mexico public schools.

Further Reading:

Kocherga, Angela Two Nations One Water Summit looks at possible solutions (Albuequrque Journal, March 3, 2018)

CBS News Questions swirl around company selected to help build border wall (CBS News, March 3, 2018)

Caldwell, Alicia New Barriers to Replace Aging Border Wall in California (The Wall Street Journal, March 4, 2018)

Srikrishnan, Maya Border Report: Artists Hold onto Murals as Fence Construction Begins (Voice of San Diego, March 5, 2018)

Nystrom, Brittney This Is What Immigration Enforcement Looks Like Under President Trump (American Civil Liberties Union, March 6, 2018

US Customs and Border Protection Three Points USBP Agents Arrest Previously Deported Salvadorian MS-13 Gang Member (US Customs and Border Protection, March 6, 2018)

McDonell, Patrick and Wilkinson, Tracy Jared Kushner, in Mexico, meets President Peña Nieto amid tensions over NAFTA and border wall (Los Angeles Times, Mach 7, 2018)

US Customs and Border Protection Border Patrol Finds Bundles of Marijuana at Checkpoint (US Customs and Border Protection, March 7, 2018)

Morrissey, Kate Trump expected to get cheers and jeers during San Diego border wall visit (Los Angeles Times, Mach 8, 2018)

US Customs and Border Protection Southwest Border Migration FY2018 (US Customs and Border Protection March 8, 2018)

Castle, Lauren Pima County, New York Academy of Art partnership brings art, science together to help identify dead migrants (Arizona Central, March 8, 2018)

Trevizo, Perla Moments of high anxiety for deported dad on custody quest (Arizona Daily Star, March 8, 2018)

Carcamo, Cindy Border wall built in 1990s cut illegal immigration, but it also brought problems for small town (Los Angeles Times, March 9, 2018)

—Monica Hayward

#border security #weekly update

[headquartersforlievmuses]

► Oliver Queen

Green Arrow is a vigilante superhero who fights crime using archery, martial arts and technology. In his secret identity he is Oliver Queen, living in Star City as a wealthy playboy and billionaire industrialist turned outspoken socially-progressive politician. He is the leader of Team Arrow; he has also been a member of the Justice League and the Outsiders.

As a young child Oliver idolized his hero Robin Hood and was said to be a natural archer, frequently practicing with his bow and arrows. He was mildly traumatized the first time he accidentally killed an animal, but when his mother and father were mauled by lions in a tragic safari accident his hesitation to shoot cost them their lives. 

Afterwards he was raised by his uncle and eventually inherited the family fortune and business. Queen grew into a rich, thrill-seeking, and drunken playboy with no real sense of responsibility or direction in his life. Everything changed when he fell off his boat in the middle of the ocean and washed ashore on the remote isolated Starfish Island, clutching a bow – a memento from a Robin Hood movie – which he had used to keep himself afloat, where he was completely stranded. During this time spent without food or shelter Queen developed his skills as a hunter to survive and gained mastery over his bow. Having previously taken everything in his life for granted, this experience taught him self-reliance and made him into a man. His second test of new character was the discovery of drug smugglers on the island run by the ruthless international crime lord China White. Using his new skills, he attacked and destroyed their heroin operation, then delivered them to the authorities before returning home. Realizing that he had found his destiny, he chose to use his abilities and resources as a crime-fighter. With a nickname coined by the press, he made it his mission to protect Star City. He took his cue from Batman and built his own "Arrow Cave," complete with an "Arrowcar" and allegedly a yellow submarine. He and Speedy fought with trick arrows that were designed to be non-lethal.

A young man named Roy Harper idolized him. Harper was an incredible archer, having grown up on a Native American reservation. His mentor Brave Bow was dying and he needed someone to take care of him, so he wanted to become Green Arrow's sidekick. Proving his mettle by taking down several thugs faster than he could while they were both on the scene, Oliver adopted Roy as his legal ward. He would go on to fight crime taking the name Speedy. Speedy would later team up with a number of other costumed youths to form the Teen Titans, including Aqualad, Kid Flash, Robin and Wonder Girl.

reen Arrow would go on to become a member of the Justice League of America, although there are multiple versions of this story. Originally the Silver Age showed him joining after he rescued the League from an evil alien named Xandor. Post-Crisis stories retconned Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman out of this story, making several other changes. Queen Enterprises secretly funded the early League, never revealing his identity and speaking to them through Simon Carr. Eventually the team voted him in as their sixth member. Infinite Crisis brought back the League's original founders and beginnings. Green Arrow is shown to have joined at the same time as Black Canary, proving their value in combat against the League of Assassins. He would go on to have many further adventures with them.

Green Arrow began developing a personal crisis about which of his identities was more important and doing more good, the crime-fighter or the politician. Giving himself a new look, he had a more modern costume designed. His entire fortune and control of Queen Industries was lost to a corrupt employee named John Deleon who stole everything from him through corporate fraud. The League fights manifestations of their inner darkness and he is confronted by his character failures in combat. Part of him has only chosen to be a hero for the thrill and glory, but he realizes that he defines himself by his ability to control those instincts for the greater good. Queen begins to reevaluate his priorities, and learns to focus more on the everyday problems of regular people.

In the ensuing year after losing his fortune, Ollie travelled the country with Green Lantern Hal Jordan while his left-behind ward dabbled with drugs that caused the two to go their separate ways.

Late one night while fighting an ambush under duress, Green Arrow's arm slipped an inch and he accidentally shot a criminal in the chest, killing him instantly. The experience was so traumatizing for him that he ripped up his costume, destroyed his equipment and decided to end his heroic career entirely. After destroying the Arrowplane, he went to live in a monastery to seek redemption and get back in touch with his roots for several months. A wise man named Master Jansen taught him the secrets of zen archery and encouraged him not to abandon his destiny, sending him home with renewed confidence in himself.

Green Arrow and Black Canary relocated to Seattle, Washington where they set up a flower shop called Sherwood Florist. Having decided that years of reliance on Trick Arrows had made him weak, he returned to his basic roots as an archer and began using exclusively regular arrows again. He asked Dinah to marry him, but she believed that the strength of their relationship was in the independence they allowed each other. Although Oliver wanted children of his own, she did not want to bring children into the dangers of their world. Black Canary makes a new suit for Green Arrow and the first criminal he takes down is a serial killer known as the Seattle Slasher. There is an assassin named Shado targeting men for personal reasons that Oliver tracks down, fights with, and loses to. James Cameron is the police officer he chooses to work alongside and develops a relationship with. Black Canary went undercover to expose a drug ring, but was captured and interrogated. By the time he got to her she had been brutally tortured and they were planning to rape her, although he stopped them by shooting her assailant in the chest without hesitation. Shado appeared mysteriously and took down the other men in the building to assist him. They would go on to take down a conspiracy involving C.I.A. cocaine shipments to fund foreign wars, ran by men Shado had sworn vengeance against for her father Tomonaga.

Dinah's injuries were extensive; she lost her "canary cry" and was subsequently found to be unable to bear children. This marked a major turning point in Ollie's life. When Ollie was injured and being cared for by Shado, she proceeded to rape him while he was unconscious, conceiving a son she would name Robert.[23] When Ollie found out about the son, Shado made it clear that he would have nothing to do with the child. It also caused a rift between Ollie and Dinah, since she despaired at not being able to give Ollie the one thing he had always truly wanted (not withstanding Roy and Lian).

Distraught with grief at having killed his best friend, Oliver returned to the ashram he had visited after his last murder. Master Jansen counselled him again in finding inner peace after he swears off super-heroics. The National Security Agency had determined that they must eliminate him after the things he had seen in their employ, and assassins are sent after him. A young archer and martial artist named Connor Hawke who idolizes him helps fight them off, and the two leave together in search of answers about who set him up. Connor has his own costume and becomes the second Green Arrow, which Oliver is supportive of. They quickly find themselves entangled in a government conspiracy and Eddie Fyers is enlisted to help solve their problems. Hal Jordan reappears again at one point still alive, and wishes to rekindle their friendship although he is still clearly insane and obsessed with his cosmic energies. Before parting he accidentally lets Oliver know that Connor is actually his son by an old girlfriend named Moonday Hawke. Furious that the young man didn't tell him about their relation, Oliver has an argument with Connor and Eddie then leaves to be on his own again.

The NSA was under new management and they offered Oliver a job as an agent. They needed him to go undercover and infiltrate the Eden Corps, an extremist eco-terrorist organization. On his first mission with them he was forced to fight his closest friends and allies; gaining their confidence he also started a romantic relationship with their leader Hyrax. He fought off Connor, Eddie Fyers, Arsenal and even the Force of July. Hyrax had a bomb named the Mutajek 9-9 and planned to destroy Metropolis with it. On the plane ride there was a massive fire fight with another deep-cover agent, and most of the terrorists were killed. Green Arrow's arm was inside the detonation chamber for the bomb, which would activate if he released his hand. Superman tried to help but had no way of saving him other than tearing off his arm. Rather than allow himself to be crippled Queen let the plane explode, sacrificing himself to save thousands of people. Having been completely vaporized in the blast, there was no body. A small funeral gathering of his closest friends was held in Warriors. There was nothing to bury, so his son fired an arrow into the air and marked its landing as his final resting place, as in the legend of Robin Hood. Connor Hawke then decided to continue on his legacy.

This wasn't Oliver's end, however, as Hal Jordan (during his time as Parallax) returned to save the earth during the Final Night and used his godlike powers to bring his old friend back from the dead. Unfortunately, the reanimated hero was an empty vessel with no soul, whose memories were replicated from his earlier days when he had a stronger liberal conscience. Ollie's more experienced soul remained in a Heaven-like place for a time, until it was reunited with his body in order to defeat an evil warlock named Stanley Dover. Now, the original Green Arrow was back in action with a rare second chance at life to make up for previous mistakes with his loved ones, all while renewing his vows to be a defender of the downtrodden.

With the death of Stanley Dover, Ollie inherited Dover's estate. He renovated it, and established it as the Star City Youth Center. During this time, Ollie rescued fifteen-year-old Mia Dearden from a life of drugs and prostitution. He took her into his confidence, and into his home. Mia developed a crush on Oliver, and began emulating his actions. She even began training with a bow and arrow. Eventually, her extensive training paid off, and she became the new Speedy.

The superhero community was thrown into chaos when Elongated Man's wife Sue Dibny was murdered. Green Arrow had been part of a conspiracy that covered up a mind-wipe performed by Zatanna on Doctor Light, altering his personality after he had raped Sue on the Justice League Satellite many years before. They hunted Light down and were forced to fight unprepared against Deathstroke as his bodyguard, who decimated them until Oliver leaped onto his back and stabbed an arrow into his empty eye socket. His memory triggered again, Light was able to escape. Having gotten into many compromising situations over the years, his was not the only memory erased, but altering his personality was the furthest they ever went. This is justified on the grounds that they did what needed to be done, despite what the opinions of others would've been.[50] The shocking revelation is that Batman discovered what they were doing and tried to stop them, forcing the group to wipe his mind as well.

Deathstroke blew up his house as revenge for their earlier fight. Realizing that someone has discovered his secret identity, Oliver puts his family on lock-down and relocates to an underground bunker before teaming up with Black Lightning to take on Doctor Light again.

One Year Later, Oliver Queen is the newly elected mayor of Star City, continuing his fight on the streets and through the system. He also has a new costume, which appears to be a combination of the classic Neal Adams costume and the Mike Grell Longbow Hunters costume. At the onset, it seems Mayor Queen is most interested in the "shock value" of his office, although his controversial decisions and statements are actually meant to draw attention to and benefit the devastated Star City. 

He uses an open interpretation of the town charter to perform same-sex marriages in Star City as a both a political statement and a way to boost the local tourist economy. He also exercises the power of his office to do things such as blackmail corrupt businessmen, or have the Star City SWAT unit back up his actions as Green Arrow while publicly condemning his alter ego. (He also used his connections to enable his longtime friend and former lover Black Canary to bring a young Vietnamese girl, Sin, into the country to be raised by Canary.)

During the year long hiatus, Queen also amassed a quite large personal fortune by manipulating stocks of companies he sees as unscrupulous. While never stated outright, it appears Oliver Queen is now worth billions. The former gangster Brick now fights crime in Star City and allies himself with Green Arrow, although he evidently still traffics in drugs and prostitution.

Before long however, Ollie faced problems from opponents who wore business suits as well as costumes. Deathstroke the Terminator, having been incarcerated at Alcatraz Island after a fight with Green Arrow, conspired with fellow inmate Constantine Drakon and Star City police commissioner Brian Nudocerdo to ruin Ollie politically.

In the midst of political scandal, Oliver Queen reignited his love affair with longtime paramour, Dinah Laurel Lance. After successfully fending off an attack by Deathstroke and Constantine Drakon, Ollie asked Dinah to marry him, but she was not prepared to give him an immediate answer. 

Shortly thereafter, Ollie and Speedy helped Black Canary when Merlyn abducted Canary's "daughter" Sin. To save Sin's life, Ollie was forced to fake the young girl's death, keeping the knowledge of the plan between himself and Mia, even at the risk of losing Dinah forever. After Sin was placed into safekeeping, Ollie told Dinah what he had done. Recognizing that he was willing to sacrifice his own happiness to save a life, Dinah finally agreed to marry him. 

Green Lantern decided it was time for an era of change in the Justice League, believing they had lost sight of their goals and the true meaning of justice. He set out to form his own League alongside Green Arrow as his partner, taking a less reactionary and more aggressive stance on crime-fighting. They spent weeks together hunting and tracking down super-villains. 

Following his murder of Prometheus, Green Arrow sets out to kill the Electrocutioner. Green Lantern and the Flash are the first to discover the corpse he left behind, and attempt to take him in. Black Canary tries to get him to listen to reason, but he pushes her aside. Now with his own community after him, he continues his personal vendetta for revenge. Connor Hawke gets into a heated argument with him about the troubles in their past with Oliver's fatherhood and how much of a bastard he's been, not sure if he can ever forgive him again. Mia Dearden is the only one of his allies in agreement with him, and she captures the Electrocutioner with the intention of murdering him in cold blood. Realizing that he can't drag a child into this, Green Arrow begins to regret his crimes and turns himself in. Finally he's arrested by Brian Nudocerdo and publicly unmasked, revealing to the world that he's former Mayor Oliver Queen. Black Canary visits him in prison and returns her wedding ring, telling him their marriage is over. On trial, the jury finds him not guilty, but the judge overrules this and sentences him to a complete exile from Star City.

Oliver Queen has a very dynamic personality. His passion and intensity make him strong, although he has always had difficulty finding direction in life. Born into wealth, he didn't need to work for most of what he had and was raised with very little responsibility. His experience on Starfish Island taught him self-reliance and showed him there was more to existence, giving him an outlet. In the beginning of his career he has been portrayed as a thrill-seeker, fighting crime not for moral reasons but the sense of adventure. It wasn't until he lost his fortune that he developed his strong social conscience, and outspoken left-wing political viewpoints. This character development has made him much less egotistical in the way he deals with problems.

Acrobatics: He has displayed on many occasions that he is an expert in acrobatics, and often uses this skill while evading enemy fire.

Archery: Oliver Queen is perhaps the finest archer ever known. He claims to be able to shoot 29 arrows per minute (he stated this himself, in the Sound of Violence story arc, when he corrected Black Canary for saying 26). He has a wide-variety of trick arrows, ranging from bola arrows to time-bomb arrows to his infamous boxing-glove arrow. In recent years he has used these arrows sparingly, preferring the time-tested simple arrow. Green Arrow has shown the ability to shoot an arrow down the barrel of a gun, pierce a drop of water as it leaves a tap, and shoot almost any part of the human body; although he aims only to wound and not kill when he shoots. He once shot two arrows down two different gun barrels while upside down, in mid-flip while somersaulting off a building.

Aviation: He used to own and fly his own airplane called the Arrowplane. He still has some skill in flying different types of planes.

Cooking: Green Arrow's Chili is one of the hottest foods on the planet.

Firearms: Although not his preferred weapon, Oliver is very skilled in the use of firearms. He has displayed great accuracy with handguns and machine guns. He was even told by Deathstroke that he handles himself well with firearms.

Hunting: Archery is by far Oliver's preferred method of hunting however the ability to hunt comes from years of training, patience and survival. He is proficient enough in hunting to pursue a cougar without it ever noticing.

Martial Arts: He is proficient in several forms of hand-to-hand combat including Judo, Kickboxing and Karate. Proclaimed as a martial arts master, he has shown the ability to take on seven people at once. He spent several months dedicated to making himself a better fighter and trained with many of the world's finest martial arts teachers and even went through training from Natas, the same person who trained Deathstroke.

Eskrima

Judo

Kickboxing

Karate

Peak Human Condition: Oliver spent a fortune to hire the world's foremost martial arts masters to train him until he was in peak physical condition.

Politics: Ollie ran for office and became the mayor of Star City for a significant amount of time. He has since resigned from being the mayor and has continued to lean on political issues from time to time.

Stick Fighting: Oliver has shown to be a highly skilled stick fighter, as displayed when he gained the upper hand in a fight with Arsenal, while using one of his Eskrima sticks.

Swordsmanship: Ollie is also very proficient with a sword, though it is not his preferred weapon of choice. He has beaten Jason Todd in a sword-fight and has deflected an incoming arrow with the sword he carries.

Throwing: Oliver is a master marksman and possesses great aim with projectile objects such as darts, in addition to his skill in archery.

Weaponry: Oliver is proficient in the use of an array of weaponry, including archery, sticks, and various bladed weapons.

Ollie has a rare Rh-negative blood type, the same as his former lover, Black Canary.

Verses

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#Arrow #Arrow [Oliver Queen] #Male Character #non mutuals #face claim: Stephen Amnell