#if only there were a name for these kites that are attached to the ships | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

The Sheriff and the Murderer

Part Two

Previous Parts | Part One

Series Masterlist

QUICK LINK TO MY MASTERLIST, IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN READING MORE OF MY CRAP 😬

Pairing | Lee Bodecker x reader

Summary | killing your husband appeared to be a solution to your problem, however his appearance grips attention, and causes yet another troublesome situation for you.

Warnings | mentions of death and murder, murderous thoughts, a dead body, aftermath of sex, described and subtle illusions to rape (if triggering, please do not read!!!), angst, language

“Where is your husband little lady?” The man taking up space in your bed asked, after looking at the time on the bedside table clock. It was usually a rush for him to flee the scene of his mature scheme, however, the man that had everything he wanted had yet to appear.

Despite his lack of involved wisdom, you slyly smiled, pressing your face in the warmth of his chest, attempting to coax him into staying in the confines of your bed until his work hours began. “I wouldn’t know.” You did. “Probably with that waitress from Happy Treats, getting a happy treat.”

At the mention of such a controversy, Lee frowned. It wasn’t right on the man’s part to cheat on such a woman that was far from his average league, with another of her breed that was far below standards. Simon was the perfect example of an idiot, and it subconsciously irritated the man of order.

If Lee had it his perfected way, then he would show his adoration for such a cherub partner. He would arrive home at the end of each day with a flamboyant bouquet, and help himself to the treats that she had baked him. But whence he had entered earlier on that night, he saw the pastries in a cardboard box, wasting away, all because Simon was blind to see the golden ore that he had dug himself maritally into.

Oh gosh, did he hate Simon! If it weren’t against the law that he had sworn by, he would end the fool’s granted life, and then replace him in his polished boots. But that was illegal, and surely he would never have the capability to get away with such a severe crime. Often though did the morbid thought come to mind.

The best thing about ever possibly murdering the man though would certainly be viewing you be as free as a kite. He would swoon with lust, envisioning you on the dance floor, twirling around the string, of which he would reel you in by.

However, that was not to be a prime reality, for Simon lived and breathed, flourishing in his shed, where it was well known that he had a supply of overseas shipments. The packages contained something that he could only dream of, but he would never invade your privacy like that, no matter the power he wielded whenever he walked into any populated room.

But then again, he would not be entirely imposed on reporting Simon having a little accident... But he couldn’t, no. The man shook his head at the inducing prospect, denying himself of the savage pleasure. If anyone were to ever chivalrously murder the grotesque soul, then it would be his duty to degrade them with a sentence.

Although, he would forever be grateful to the man who bid his life on the line to end that of Simon. Eternally, he would respect whomever had the guts to do him such a favour, even if that was not their focused intent. They would be caged for life for their selfish sins, whilst he remained enforcing on the outside, simultaneously reaping the benefits of their crime.

“Sweetness.” At the pet name, you smiled, feeling loved at his presence. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, gently sliding you off of where you were resting upon him. “It is time for me to go. I hate to leave, but it has already gone past eleven.”

“But Lee-“ despite your excuse, that was to remain secret in the privacy of no one else but yourself, you watched the sheriff stand nudely from the pooling of your sheets, and gather his items of clothing. He slid on the material of his underwear, much to your dismay, and continued to redress himself. “Simon-“

“Is your husband.” He hated admitting such a fact to himself, and it killed him saying it out loud to you. “And not only that, but this is his house. Shan’t be long until he returns, and I best be gone before he appears.” If in honesty he were forced to give his opinion, he would admit that the home that you were attached to was haunted.

There seemed to be ghosts wandering the halls, sobbing in fear from the face of the man that would return from his town career. They were in pain. Each told a story of his power over them, how he had used them to his own whim, from the bedroom to the back porch. And all was reflected in where you laid; the one place a man should bed a woman.

“Last time he came home with one of those whores dressed as a schoolgirl.” It was a cry for help, a plead to remain with him, and not be left alone with what was left of that man. But the subject of the matter was overlooked, and went over lovely Lee’s head.

“Darling.” The name made you gulp, as he adjusted his belt, slotting it through the provided loops. “Have you seen my hat?” He didn’t want to murmur more of the situation, nevertheless, a grin succumbed to his lips as you stretched to retrieve it from the floor beside you, and rested it in a perched manner on your head.

“Perhaps.” You smiled at the enforcer, it was real, a moment of happiness that rarely occurred. With sadness and guilt, Lee reached to retrieve it, removing it to place upon his own noggin.

“If he tries to lay a hand on you, call me.” It wasn’t a sweet sentiment, it was an order, a desperate need to know that you would be okay without him by your side. But the vital part of the narrative that he did not know was that you had struck first, like a defensive shark.

“Will do, Lee Lee.” Pressing one chaste kiss upon his addictive lips, you watched and listened as he left, feeling the emptiness return and seep in through every open pore in your body.

And when you were certain that he had fled the adultery scene, you tugged on your sheep made robe, adjusting it in a perfect bow. Grabbing the shovel from beside the back door, you headed towards the shed, nobody seeing you on your small lot of private property.

“Hello Simon.” It fell as a whisper, his lifeless eyes staring blankly up at you. Holding tighter onto the gardening tool, you held the end against one of his limbs, ready to push all your weight down to break the piece of him off, much like he had emotionally done to you.

Taglist

@charmed-asylum @tcc-gizmachine @stucky-my-ship @brynthebulldozer

204 notes · View notes

wesimpforxiao · 3 years

Text

Inception: Chapter 1

Author’s Note: Welcome everyone to my Childe x Reader fanfiction! Decided to post the first (and only so far) chapter since I’m happy with it. Hope you enjoy this sneak peek!!!

Now where did Mr. Zhongli run off to? Wherever you'd end up, you'd miss the man by a hair. Running errands for Hu Tao was practically the equivalent to a wild goose chase. "Wait a second!" A sudden realization stopped you in your tracks, and a few customers that were buying kites held startled expressions from your yelp. "She's pranking me again, isn't she?!"

Zhongli was inspecting noticulous jade samples behind you when he heard a female voice yell to no one in particular. He turned to see you, completely deflated for reasons unknown to him. Shouldn't you be at the parlor overseeing your duties in the presence of Hu Tao? What were you doing out here? "What seems to be the matter, Reed?"

"ZHONGLI!" Another yelp, and this time the customers nearby became more annoyed. You spun on your heel and meet your coworker's gaze. "I've been looking everywhere for you! Um, Hu Tao wanted me to give you these," you promptly handed a small stack of slightly crumpled documents to him. "She said they were really important...?"

"Let me see..." Golden eyes turned their attention to the script with the utmost focus before he heaved a tiresome sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Is...something the matter?" You could've sworn everything was in order...maybe it was possible that in your rush to find him, you had lost a paper or two without noticing?

"What is it exactly that Hu Tao instructed you to do?" His voice held a tinge of exhaustion, but it went unnoticed by you.

"She just told me to find you and give you the documents, and that you'd know what to do with them. And she also told me not to look at them. Why?"

Another sigh, and the documents were handed back to you. "I apologize, but it appears that you've fallen victim to her...childish antics yet again."

He was right. The documents were nothing more than a bunch of gibberish and what looked like to be a horrible attempt to draw Zhongli on one of the papers next to one scribble that was labelled 'doodoo.' "You've got to be joking." The scowl on your face was enough to get Zhongli to clear his throat in an effort to dissuade you from your anger. You were an incredibly nice and patient person, but Zhongli's seen you angry once before. It was not something he'd like to see again, and with every passing prank, you got closer and closer to snapping at your boss.

"My apologies," he sympathized. He couldn't exactly keep up with the parlor director's childish ways either, after all.

That was three hours of my day. You crumpled the papers in your hands before tossing them in the trash. "Sorry to bother you Zhongli, I'll be heading back to the parlor now."

You took the long way back to the funeral parlor, making a point to walk across the docs that shouldered the sea. It was well-deserved, you thought, since Hu Tao was constantly testing your patience and you had yet to snap. If she really needed you today, she wouldn't have sent you on a needless hunt to deliver unnecessary documents. So what if you showed up a little late now? It was her doing!

The docks were quiet with the occasional pigeons and seagulls cooing as they searched for their next meal--or their next pooping target. A few pigeons scattered into the wind once you reached a railing that overlooked one of the merchant ships.

It had been quite some time since your mother brought you across the sea to escape the influences of the Fatui in Snezhnaya--it had to be at least a decade by now, actually. The Fatui that were stationed near your hometown were a reckless, malicious bunch, and weren't even kind to their own people despite their cohort existing to serve the people.

'To serve the people' was more like 'to serve the Tsaritsa.' Neglect against her own people soon became a mutual feeling in your town. She let her Fatui rats run about with no punishment for falling out of line...the audacity! A god is supposed to protect and nurture their people, not toss them aside or save them to be used.

The glimmering of the ocean below the deck only briefly dragged out out of your memories before you fell into them much like a wave washes over the beach.

You still remembered the day when your best friend went missing, and when he finally turned up ragged and dirty a few days later. He never spoke of what happened, but it wouldn't surprise you if it had anything to do with the agents in your town. He changed from a hesitant boy to a rambunctious, feisty kid--and the arrogance was insanely annoying. But just as you tried to get closer to him, your mom decided his mysterious circumstances were what she needed to get herself and you out of Snezhnaya.

"I don't know what happened to you, Ajax, but I hope you're okay."

...........................................

Today's such a beautiful day! You stretched your arms with content to get the aches of walking all morning out of your shoulders. Slouching was a horrible habit of yours. But no matter, it was time to celebrate! Hu Tao finally cut you loose from her list of unfortunate victims of her shenanigans, instead setting her sights on some exorcist that went by the name 'Chongyun.' Since he wasn't related to the parlor's services--at least, not that you were aware--you didn't know him personally.

That poor soul has no idea what's coming to him, you think as you absently scan the papers in your hands that the parlor director had given you to give to Zhongli before the day's end--you had learned your lesson from last time, and inspected each stack she'd give you. But as bad as I feel for him, I can't complain since I'm finally scot-free of her.

You made your way toward Liuli Pavilion, where Zhongli had informed you earlier this morning that he'd be conducting a meeting with one of the parlor's biggest funders. There he is now! And...sitting alone?

"Mr. Zhongli?" Your quiet interruption shifted his attention from the vivid storytelling of the storyteller to you. "Did you have your meeting yet?"

"No, he should be arriving shortly," the consultant answered and placed his teacup down. "What did you need me for?"

"Hu Tao sent me on another errand, er, a valid one this time. I guess one of our customers was wondering what recommendations you had regarding these?" A quick hand-off of the documents pertaining the names of precious stones, and Zhongli shut out the story of the ventures of Rex Lapis and his former companion, Azhdaha.

Your eyes left Zhongli for a moment and watched the storyteller's movements. I've heard this one before. Azhdaha was reprimanded for turning against humanity, wasn't he? I wonder what that was like for our god. To be betrayed by a close friend-

"I see. Noticulous jade would be the best option considering it's vibrant purple tones, but the beauty of cor lapis when significantly refined to its utmost potential is a valid approach for the ceremony as well. Why don't we purchase both? You and I can inspect the nearby stores tomorrow morning."

Honestly, I don't know why I bother asking if his answer is always 'We'll take them all,' your lips twitched from restraining a laugh and you returned your sights on the consultant. "Alright, let's do that."

"Mr. Zhongli! It's great to see you," an unfamiliar man approached the table with a friendly smile. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long." The confidence that radiated from his stride was enough to make you shrivel up on yourself. That, and the afternoon light that bounced off of his bright gray clothes half-blinded you.

"Not at all. Please take a seat. Reed, why don't you join us?" Zhongli was aware of your intense opinions of the Fatui, but then again, who in Liyue didn't have a problem with the organization at the moment? Especially after their most recent incident with Osial...and the issue himself was sitting right across the table. Perhaps meeting such a dangerous individual would dissuade you from pursuing that nighttime hobby of yours...

"Oh, I don't want to intrude. Isn't this a private meeting?"

"I don't mind," said the red-headed stranger.

Zhongli gestured toward the third chair at the table, and you hesitantly obeyed. A few minutes couldn't hurt. You used the moment to get you situated and check out the guy to your left. He didn't seem familiar, but he had this air about him that was...distinct, if that made any sense. Familiar yet unfamiliar. For someone being labelled as one of the most prominent sponsors of the funeral parlor, he didn't button his jacket properly, and a portion of his abdomen was visible while a hydro vision sat comfortably attached to his beltloop. Or perhaps that was the way the jacket was designed?

Why am I even contemplating this? You peeled your eyes away from his torso in a hurry, and they settled on your hands in your lap. Way to make a first impression.

"Reed, I would like to introduce you to Ma-"

"Ajax!" Childe's voice overtook Zhongli's introduction. "I go by Ajax, it's nice to meet you." He held out a gloved hand for you to shake. He didn't think it would be possible to ever see you again, not after your mom took you across the sea, so he spat out a lie without thinking. Then again, even as a child you hated the Fatui--rightfully so-- so it wouldn't have been a good idea to introduce himself as the very harbinger that almost drowned Liyue. Childe thought he had recognized you by your hair and the way you walked, but it was so long ago, and the memory of you had long since faded into a blurry image. But 'Reed'...It couldn't be some coincidence that he met you here.

And by your reaction, he could say his intuition served him right. "A-Ajax?" You sat up taller than before, not quite comprehending the situation at first. The name, the face, those blue eyes--it had to be him. "Ajax from Snezhnaya?"

"I would hope I'm the only Ajax you know." Childe shot you a friendly smile, but some smidge of jealousy lie in the depths of his otherwise vacant gaze. Perhaps it could even be considered threatening, or possessive. He was the only Ajax you knew, right?

"Oh thank the archons you're alright," you released the breath you didn't know you were holding in. It was all you managed to get out before remembering that a certain party was sitting to your right. "O-Oh! Zhongli! We knew each other before I emigrated to Liyue-"

"Childhood friends," the harbinger grinned slightly as he met the consultant's confused yet stern gaze. Something deadly flashed in his eyes, daring Zhongli to speak up and correct his own introduction.

Zhongli wasn't anywhere near afraid or intimidated by Childe, but despite this he did not reveal Childe's true identity. Perhaps there was a reason the harbinger was posing as his younger self, like he was protecting the image of the perfect older brother for you just as he did with Teucer.

That, and Zhongli had vowed not to meddle in these types of matters just as he neglected to tell Childe he was the geo archon. It was not his business if Childe chose to deceive you just as he deceived Childe, but if the harbinger posed a threat to you or anyone in Liyue again...Let's just say the passive Zhongli would put his foot down.

"I see," said Zhongli with a thoughtful gaze as he picked up his half-full cup of tea. "May I inquire as how you two met?"

"Well," you leaned back in your seat and stared at one of the passing clouds as you attempted to recollect old memories. "I don't remember exactly, but we ran into each other at one of the local markets that stood between our hometowns. You should've seen him back then Zhongli, he was a nervous reck!"

Childe visibly grimaced at your bluntness, but Zhongli let out a low chuckle. "Is that so?" This earned a glare from the harbinger.

"Yes! He was always second-guessing himself. I was always the one wearing the pants in the friendship whenever we got to see each other! And then..." Your expression darkened as you remembered his disappearance, and his concerning change of attitude when he returned. But just as quickly as the distasteful memory showed on your face, it was tossed away with a shake of the head. "You know, there was one time where he had gotten in trouble with one of the local fisherman because he--"

"Now, now!" Childe interrupted with a slightly aggressive--no, embarrassed--tone. "I don't think Mr. Zhongli would be interested in--"

"On the contrary, I would be more than delighted to hear of Ajax's childhood stories," Zhongli sipped away at his tea, making a point to emphasize the new name while staring straight Childe.

"Aw, you embarrassed?" Childe wanted to wipe that smug grin off your face for noticing. He thought he was great at hiding his emotions, but with your surprise appearance, he was a bit more than caught off guard. You covered your mouth and leaned toward Zhongli while whispering, "I'll tell you later, promise!"

Childe let out something of a strangled chuckle that made the corner of Zhongli's lips twitch upward. "So, what have you been up to all this time?"

"Well, I've been working at the funeral parlor with Zhongli for the past year or so," you leaned back with a thoughtful gaze. "I live by myself now; mom died a few years ago. Oh, I've been training since I got here, too. You can't trust the Fatui anywhere in Teyvat. That, and anyone that roams around late at night. Better safe than sorry."

"So you fight?" Childe's eyes lit up like a fire was lit, and you smile turned into a frown.

"Don't tell me you're still..." But with his slightly oblivious tilt of the head, you couldn't bring yourself to bring up that portion of your history. Not yet. "If need be, yes." The best option was to change the subject, especially to spare Zhongli of what could possibly turn into an argument. "How did you find yourself in Liyue?"

"I..." A glance was sent briefly in Zhongli's direction, but he purposely ignored it. "I'm a toy seller these days."

"Augh--" A sputtered cough came from Zhongli, and he dabbed at his lips with a handkerchief. "Ahem...Apologies, it appears I choked on a bit of tea."

After an awkward laugh escaped Childe, you turned back to him. "A toy seller? You?" Was it relief you felt, or a feeling of on-edge? Perhaps it'd be better if he turned out nice enough to become a toy seller, but with the way you two left things in Snezhnaya, you'd thought it be more likely that he'd end up arrested. Or join the Fatui. Or just anything involving violence. Not sure of what to make of his words, you snapped to Zhongli. "Wait, I thought you had a meeting with one of the benefactors of the funeral parlor? Why would a toy seller be involved with us?"

"Yes, I've wondered that myself," Zhongli set his empty teacup aside and faced Childe directly to bait him. "You've never told me the story. How did you find yourself involved with the parlor, Ajax?"

The hint of a smirk on the consultant's lips made the harbinger's blood boil even though he managed to keep his façade of a smile plastered on his face. "Well, I wouldn't want to bore you with the details, it's an uninteresting story!"

"Tell me," you begged, eyes sparkling in anticipation. "It might not be boring to us!"

"Yes, do tell," Zhongli encouraged.

You're enjoying this too much, Mr. Zhongli. Childe did his best to hide his annoyance under his signature grin.

........................................

The sigh that escaped the harbinger once you left to finish your duties at the parlor prompted Zhongli to raise a brow at him. "Shut up," Childe muttered without sparing a glance his way. He knew you were hateful of the Fatui; that's most likely why he lied without a second thought, but as to why he'd bother doing so since you weren't close anymore was unknown.

At least, to Childe it was. Zhongli had already figured it out by the lengthy conversation of Childe's extensive toy seller lie. "You two were more than 'close' back in Snezhnaya, were you not?"

"Don't overthink it Zhongli, we were only friends."

"And yet you wear your Harbinger status proudly on your sleeve."

"What're you implying?" Childe, growing impatient and bored of the conversation, shifted in his seat. You had left as their meals were served, so to his utmost horror, he now realized he was given chopsticks to use for his dish.

"You also don't like deceiving others unlike your fellow harbingers."

A disgusted scoff left his lips as he lifted his chopsticks. "...You think I, Tartaglia, am in love with a childhood friend? My my my, Mr. Zhongli, it seems you've finally lost your marbles after living six thousand years. Perhaps living among humans has taken a toll on your wisdom."

"There are several reasons for which a person would lie." Zhongli lowered his voice as the storyteller finished his monologue. "The only one that would make sense after observing you for so long would be infatuation."

Childe had tuned him out by now, concentrating with furrowed brows on holding his dumplings correctly in-between his chopsticks. But they were too heavy, what with his hand shaking the utensils, and they fell back on the plate with a wet plop. Curse these stupid- Childe nearly threw them at the building to his left, but restrained himself before he could lose to his frustrations. Instead he used one chopstick to stab the dumpling and in an exasperated huff, shoved it into his mouth.

"So, what is the real reason you're back in Liyue?" Zhongli set his third cup of tea aside after watching the pitiful struggle before him. "It had sounded like you'd be in Snezhnaya for quite some time before returning, yet here you are only months after Osial."

"Oh," Childe sat up, only now remembering that what he had told you earlier was a drastic lie. "I've been meaning to ask you about the matters I'm dealing with. The Fatui here are fed-up with some...vigilante that interferes with their work here. Whoever's at fault is clearly an amateur, but my subordinates here are apparently too incompetent to catch them. They're stealing important documents from the Northland Bank, setting traps on the roadsides, and even breaking into our apartments to steal the agents' uniforms."

Zhongli cradled his chin in his hand while in deep thought. He's heard of such a person; they often came to the parlor in the early morning hours to avoid getting caught since their living quarters were on the opposite side of town--he caught them more than once, out of breath, and dressed in black.

"--Basically the men are agitated at this point and threatening to leave their posts, and everyone's on edge because of another matter that may be related. A few of our agents have gone missing with no trace, so I am here to locate them. Whoever this vigilante is might know something; both occurrences started approximately three months ago." Childe grabbed his last dumpling and ate it before leaning back in his seat. "So, given that you are the wisest man in Liyue, I decided to come to you for advice. Would you happen to know of anyone or anything involved?"

"Yes," Zhongli hummed, eyes downcast and settled on his folded hands. "It's possible I hold information valuable to your search."

Childe's pupils lit up in delight. "Oh? Do enlighten me."

"But first, the vigilante is not related to your missing men," he took another sip of tea, lost in thought. "And they are more or less an amateur seeking to disrupt Fatui operations, but they don't usually harm your agents--"

"That's inaccurate to say, Zhongli. Last week three of my guys came back with broken noses or fractured arms."

--that I know of." A pointed glare just made the harbinger lean forward against the table.

"You know who I'm searching for."

"Perhaps."

"Then spill."

"Am I really obligated to tell you based on your earlier behavior?"

"Mr. Zhongli, this person poses a serious threat to the health of my men, and potentially their lives. Do you not care that human lives are at stake because of this...this...killer?"

Says the man who tried to drown my country. "As usual, you are making brash assumptions. They are not a killer, and they are not dangerous unless backed into a corner."

Childe was growing sick of beating around the bush, so he deadpanned. "Zhongli."

The former archon let out a low sigh before meeting his gaze. "As long as you remember what I just said, then I suppose I'll let you know. The person you're searching for is the same person you lied to at this table."

#inception #wesimpforxiao #genshin x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact childe #childe genshin impact #genshin impact

92 notes · View notes

mygodzhelpmysouls · 4 years

Text

JAPAN SINKS 2020 OH MY GODDDDDD

(MAJOR SPOILERS FOR NETFLIX ANIME JAPAN SINKS 2020)

First off just wanna say that I hope to all the gods out there that whatever happened in the show won’t happen this year? Please???

SECOND: IT WAS AN EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER

Right off the first episode you can see how the disaster affects everybody. Ayumu literally saw her teammates get crushed to death. The father also had to experience that with his colleagues. The mother had to be in an airplane crash and Gō, I THOUGHT HE DIED.

And then from that point on you see the family join their 2 neighbours and go out to try to find a safe place to get help. Should be easy? NOPE

By the end of the season almost everyone dies whether they just joined the group or not, with the exception of Ayumu and Gō. First was the dad with the buried landmine, I knew something would happen. Then it was Nanami with the poisoned gas. Then Gō almost died, when Gramps shot him with the arrow. Daniel joins the group along with Gramps to go to Shan City but literally dies with Gramps when an earthquake strikes them. CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE 10 YEAR OLD KID I FORGOT HIS NAME BUT I WAS LIKE GREAT HES TALKING, BEAUTIFUL MOMENT FOR MOTHER AND FATHER- OH MY GOD NO HE GOT HIT IN THE HEAD BUY FALLING STONE. Then when they finally go to the port to go and get on the boat and WHOOPS ANOTHER EARTHQUAKE. So then the whole crew with the new fellow, a sailor, get separated. Not even after he dies and Ayumu has to see him getting eaten by the birds, good thing Gō didn’t see. Eventually Ayumu and Gō reunite with their mother and their other neighbour, Haruo (my god HIS VOICE) and find a motor boat. Oh no the anchor is stuck whos gonna get it unstuck? The mother with a device that prevents her from getting cardiac arrest who just happens to be a professional swimmer. Admin did she die? OF COURSE SHE DID WHAT ELSE DID YOU EXPECT. In all seriousness it was very sad, tears at the corner of my eyes. The three of them eventually meet up with Kite and Onodera. They follow coordinates to go and find information that can help everyone. Kite and especially Onodera almost die when the cave that kept the information got swallowed by water. Gō drops the card when another earthquake appears and when Haruo went to run and get it I KNEW- I KNEW HE COULDNT MAKE IT IN 10 SECONDS HIS FASTEST WAS 12. NO I DONT ACCEPT HIS DEATH BECAUSE I ACTUALLY DONT UNDERSTAND HOW HE COULD HAVE DIED SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN IT TO ME. Then, oh boy, I’m assuming that a lot of us thought that Kite died, I still don’t know if he actually died or is alive after the timeskip, but I thought he was being a bitch by leaving them but then realized he was helping them. Good part after that is that a helicopter found them because of the GPS signal, and Ayumu fainted because of her infected leg. She gets it amputated and Gō, precious boi, is okay. Timeskip happens and I realize that some of the dialogue/voiceover is some old family videos playing when the siblings see her mother’s photos. I also realize that THE LITTLE BOY THE MOTHER SAVED AT THE BEGINNING SAVED THE PHOTO AND READ THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY BY AYUMU- precious realization.

Also, just want to point out and question, was the reason why Ayumu wanted to go get her business done was because she was jealous of how close Nanami and Haruo were? Idk someone explain?

Another thing I’m questioning is how exactly Haruo died? I know that the current can be strong but I’m not entirely sure how he died. As well as Kite, did he die? Because you sort of see him when Ayumu is participating in her Olympics match.

In all seriousness the show captures the emotions someone would go through after everything. Ayumu thinks her mother doesn’t care that her father died because she’s keeping a happy face and is interacting with Daniel a lot when in reality we find out that she’s staying strong for the sake of Ayumu and Gō. The time where Ayumu was the only one able to board the giant ship because of how athletic she is but at the cost of leaving her family behind. I’m glad she got off or else Gō would have been in a lot of trouble. And then we find out that the mother has a device that keeps her alive and prevents her from having cardiac arrests. After that she finds out the she had to sacrifice herself to go and untangle the rope because she’s going to die one way or another, why not make use of her last moments and help her children and friend survive? Throughout the show you get to see more characters that you learn about come and go and the small emotional attachment you have is just soul crushing after you see them die. Imagine all the PTSD Ayumu and Gō have to live with because of all the things they experienced, as well as the other survivors. It’s really realistic to the point where it’s scary.

Can we just also appreciate how Ayumu and Gō have a realistic sister/brother relationship too? Beautiful.

I really do like the show because of the realistic aspect of the situation and how literally anything you do has a consequence no matter good or bad or big or small.

I would definitely recommend watching it if you don’t mind all the gore and realism of it all. Another thing to mention is that I realized how similar the art was to Devilman Crybaby (another anime I recommend) and come to find out that it is directed by the same person who did direct Devilman Crybaby, Masaaki Yuasa. He did a fantastic job in both animes.

#japan sinks 2020 #japan sinks #netflix #netflix original #the emotional rollercoaster one has to go through #gore #tragedy #earthquake #death #review #japan sinks 2020 review #spoilers #japan sinks 2020 spoilers

8 notes · View notes

mercurygray · 4 years

Note

For writing prompts, any sort of MCU historical AU? :)

This is about three prompts rolled into one - I promised someone more 1870s Marvel ages ago, so - here we are!

“What did you think was going to happen?”

Sam took a long sip of his whiskey and sat back in his chair; he and Steve were sitting in Sam’s rented room, an extremely modest concern on the poorer side of town - the only sort of place that would rent to ‘his kind’, and which only looked partially askance when a white man came to the door, hat and bottle in hand, asking politely to speak with Lieutenant Wilson. The whiskey had been his gift, an old and fine year that was doing a number on Sam but which did not seem to be touching Steve at all. They were talking about choices - about how Sam had joined the cavalry, and how he’d taken the job with the Freedman’s bureau after being invalided out, and slowly they’d walked the questions around to Steve.

“Honestly, I’m not…not sure,” Steve admitted, poking the fire with the iron and stirring up the coals a little. “I don’t remember that - only that I knew that I wanted to help my country. But every recruiting sergeant I spoke to took one look at me and told me to go home to my mother - that one crooked-eyed, malnourished, underweight scarecrow from York City wasn’t going to be much use to anyone. Desperate though they were for troops, no one in the Army would have me. Until this…this funny little German came asking what I thought about…what I would do, in a war with so many big men in it. And when Dr. Erskine offered me a chance to be of use, I didn’t give the 'how’ of it much thought.”

“So?” Sam sat up a little, reaching only a little unsteadily for the bottle to refill his glass.

“So what?”

“So how does a - what’d you say, a malnourished scarecrow - turn into…” He gestured to Steve’s tall and now extremely well built frame.

“Magic,” Steve said promptly. “Science. Who knows? It seemed like both. Dr. Erskine with his potions and pills and Howard Stark with his devices from Dr. Franklin and his keys and kites and machines. They laid me out in a copper coffin and when I rose out of it, the old Stephen Rogers was dead, and someone else was in his place. Someone who could shoot the eye off a squirrel at a hundred yards, swim Long Island Sound and run from one end of Manhattan to the other without pausing. And a good two feet taller besides. Someone Washington could use.”

Sam nodded, another question dancing, fresh and fiendish, in his brain. “And the woman in that painting in your pocket?"

Steve paused, as if he were just now remembering the miniature - he pulled it forth, the ribbon just a little faded, the surface of the painting still as bright as the day it had been laid down - her dark hair, piled high in the style of the day, a single curl down her neck, her laughing eyes, her mysterious smile. A woman men could underestimate - to their peril. He undid the knot on the ribbon that attached it to his button hole and passed it to Sam, who took it like a holy artifact.

Guess this means the Widow Roman’s not your style, he mused, thinking of the stately redhead who’d greeted them the other day at the SHIELD office.

"Margaret Carter,” Steve offered. “An intelligencer in Washington’s service - a secret agent. She carried letters - carried numbers and names, of ships and soldiers and guns. Charm you as sure as look at you - and the best shot I ever saw. Could take the pip out of card at any distance you could name - with a flintlock pistol, not one of your rifles. They said John Andre wanted her and settled for Peggy Shippen - and she was reckoned the prettiest girl in Philidelphia, then. Born in England, but her heart was…was here. ” Steve stroked the miniature, his mind obviously far away.

Sam passed the miniature back and watching Steve gently tie it back in place. So she was someone to you, then. “I didn’t have anything to give up, when Erskine asked,” Steve continued, his hand still lingering over the pocket with the picture. “That all came later. And I didn’t…didn’t realize what I’d miss when it was gone.”

Sam could make no quip for that, and the two men sat in silence, finishing the whiskey and watching the logs burn down to embers, considering how the world changes.

#I have written a thing #1870s marvel au #featuring 1780s Peggy!#the best peggy obviously #also 1780s Howard Stark ran with Dr. Franklin that's just how it has to be I don't make the rules #We only get one mad scientist a century and he's it #meanwhile Tony is probably making Edison spit nails in this timeline #as one does #mcu #marvel #captain america

22 notes · View notes

ask-de-writer · 4 years

Text

LOST TIME (part 2 of 3) A fantasy of Flocking Bay.

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Flocking Bay

LOST TIME

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

5556 words

written 2003 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express written consent of the author or proper copyright holder.

//////////////

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of Fan Activity, fiction, art, cosplay, music or anything else is ACTIVELY encouraged!

///////////////////////

Morton Hewitt did not last. He bought the house for back taxes in 1944. He lived there for a week. He painted the hardwood floors and then hanged himself in the garage the next day.

Byron Thomas bought the house from Hewitt’s estate. He was a grave digger for Trinity Graveyard. He updated the plumbing and lived there quietly for several years. Apparently he liked his work a little too well. He buried two people who were not yet dead. One of them lived. He was adjudged sane at his trial and hanged for his crime.

Mark Altman bought the house next. He was a reclusive sort and lived there for a quite a number of years before it was discovered that he’d had some visitors who had never left. He died in prison while awaiting trial. There was an interesting hand written note attached to the autopsy report which stated that the coroner had ruled out both suicide and homicide but refused to pronounce the death natural.

Dora Greene got the place next. She was Mark’s sister. Like Mark, she lived there quietly for years. One day she walked into town and set fire to the school, killing five and maiming six more. She spent her last years in a lunatic asylum, setting three more fires and killing two more people. She herself died in her last fire.

While she was in the asylum, one Tony Fisk, age twelve, urged on by several other urchins, had thrown some stones at the windows of the Vekin place. He had missed. Becoming angry, he took careful aim and they all watched the flight of the stone. In the young malefactor’s words, “It went away without falling.”

It would not have been worthy of a news story, except for the fact that each of the children who had watched the stone had gone severely and permanently cross-eyed. In a small town like Flocking Bay, that many kids going cross-eyed at once could not be hidden.

George Abbot bought the house and rented it at a very low price to a Michael Farley. The two had been feuding, down-state, and the house was supposed to have been a peace offering. Farley stayed only a few weeks. He went out and dynamited Abbot’s automobile. Farley was quite mad and lived out his life in an asylum for the criminally insane. The county coroner ruled Abbot’s death to be suicide. After all, he had known the history of the house and had knowingly rented that house to an enemy.

Cornelius Baker took the house next. He upgraded the kitchen and installed modern wiring. He lived there quietly and apparently got on well for about five years. He was a long-haul truck driver. Bodies followed him about the country. Finally, he was caught with one in his truck. He drove his truck into a bridge abutment at over ninety miles per hour rather than be taken alive.

Now, I had the place. I mentally withdrew my blessing. He had not been a good man at all.

Lois saw that I was finished with the file and making good inroads on my sandwich. She asked, “Did you sleep there, last night?”

“Yes, I did. Most restful sleep I have had in years.”

“What is your full name?”

“Vandervekken,” I replied, getting out my driver’s license. I was used to this. “No first name or middle initial. Just Vandervekken.”

“How old are you?”

“I don’t know, at least seventy.”

“You don’t know how old you are? Seventy? You look like you’re in your early twenties,” she said incredulously. “I told you that things connected with the Vekin place get interesting.”

“I got a head-wound during the war. Traumatic amnesia.”

“Viet Nam wasn’t that long ago. It would only make you in your fifties.”

“Not Viet Nam, Lois. WW II. Apparently, I was helping the French Underground.” I handed her the military fingerprint record. Her eyes widened as she realized that I was serious. “The amnesia’s been permanent, so far. I have language skills . . . too many. I’m a fluent, accentless polyglot. I even speak Basque. I know how to do an amazing number of things . . . no trace of name or personal past. No ID either.”

“Couldn’t they trace you by these fingerprints or something?”

“They tried. I was found among the bodies of a wiped-out unit of the French Underground during the German withdrawal from Paris in 1944. Someone from another unit was able to say that I was an American volunteer with a name that he could neither remember nor pronounce ... something sort of Dutch. That inspired my current name. I got back with a temporary ID and that military fingerprint record, which I still carry.”

“That’s sad, and eerie, too. What’s it feel like?”

“I’ve thought about that a lot. I think the best way to describe it is like a house that’s furnished but nobody is home. Empty. Alone.”

“So, how does that relate to your choice of name? You must know what having only one name does to our systems for indexing things and people.”

“True. I want to stand out, in case somebody recognizes who I am. As for Vandervekken, he was the Flying Dutchman, who swore that he would take his ship around the Cape of Good Hope, against a gale, if it took until Judgment Day. That was in the Seventeenth Century and he is still sailing. His ghost is seen as a Dutch East India Co. galleon with all sails set, sailing into the teeth of a gale. He can’t get home either.”

“I see,” Lois said, adding to her notes. “What brought you to Flocking Bay?”

“I was just passing through. I like small towns, so I avoid the main highways and big cities whenever I can. I liked the atmosphere of Flocking Bay enough to inquire about the possibility of settling here.”

“Look, we both know that small towns are dying. You could have had your pick from any of a dozen houses. Why the Vekin place?”

“I was shown fourteen places, actually. I know that it seems a bit forbidding at first, but it felt good. Like a warm glove on a cool morning. Have you ever actually been there?”

She shuddered, “No, and before you, I have never heard of anyone who said that the Vekin place felt good ... You say that you are a writer. What have you written?”

“Charles said it very well, ’Pseudonyms are great for privacy.’ My own writing aside, I do translations but you won’t find my name on most of them. Archaeologists like to take credit for their finds. I mentioned that I’m a polyglot? I sight read ancient languages as well as modern.”

I extended my hand to Lois and invited, “Would you like to come and see for yourself this house of dark history? I promise that you will find it worth your while. In all of those stories, not once was the interior of Vekin House described. Do come.”

“I have to return the file and get my camera,” she responded gamely.

“I shall await you in my auto, in front of the Voice,” I answered. As I walked her back across the street, I had the pleasure of seeing her stare at Lilitu.

“If that’s what I think its, I’ll ride with you anywhere!” she called over her shoulder as she entered the Voice’s office. True to her word, she emerged in a few minutes with a camera. Not one of those tiny little cameras that have become fashionable, but a business-like press camera. I opened the car door and gave her a hand up.

As I got into the driver’s seat, she asked, wonder in her voice, “Is this really a Packard V-12 Touring Car?”

We pulled away with the almost uncannily quiet, vibration-free ride that the car was famous for. I replied, “You bet she is. Lois, meet Lilitu. Lilitu, meet Lois. After the war, there were still quite a few of them to be had, and I liked both the ride and the durability, so I hunted one down and had it fixed up like new. I’ve kept her that way ever since. She’s only had two owners in over two-million miles. The first owner only put on about sixty-thousand of them.”

“You drive a lot,” she stated.

“I was looking for something ... I think that Flocking Bay has it. My turn for a few questions , if you don’t mind.”

“Fire away. If I don’t like the question, I won’t answer it.”

“What did you do before you took up the Voice?”

“The same thing that I still do. The stock and futures markets. I’m good at it. I got out of college with a degree in the sociology of medieval witchcraft. I got a job as a waitress on the strength of my looks. I put my first fifty dollars in tips into a risky stock that kited way up. On a hunch, I dumped it three days after I bought it. It nosedived shortly after I sold out. After commissions, I had three hundred and fifty dollars. I rolled it over the same way. The rest is history. So far, my hunches have always worked for me.”

“What brought you to Flocking Bay?”

“Like you, I was passing through. I was on my way to Lakeside Resort about three years ago. I got a hunch that I should stay, so I did. The Voice was failing. When a small town loses its paper, the end is in sight. I didn’t want the end to come, so I bought the paper. Here I am.”

“And here we are,” I said with a flourish as I pulled up in front of the house. We both stared. The yard was neatly trimmed, though the bushes and trees still retained a slightly forbidding aspect. Going up the path to the front door, I noticed that the flagstones had been leveled, the weeds removed and the joints and refilled with fresh sand. The iron fence and balustrades had been cleaned of rust.

“You’ve been busy,” was Lois’s comment.

“That’s just it,” I replied, puzzled. “I didn’t do it. I thought that stocking the fridge and setting out a snack last night was something that the real-estate agent arranged. Sort of a welcome wagon. This is beyond the call of duty.” Opening the front door, I felt that comfortable, welcoming feeling that had caused me to buy the house in the first place. Impulsively, I said, “Hello, house, you certainly look nice today.”

Lois looked at me quizzically and asked, “Do you talk to everything, or is this special?”

I thought for a moment before answering, “Actually I only talk to things that have personality enough to warrant a name, like Lilitu, my car, or Drachen, my typewriter.”

“Typewriter? You do like antiques, don't you? What are you going to call the house, then?”

“I’m not sure,” I answered. “Something good ... What does the place feel like to you?”

“The place actually looks and feels . . . well . . .” Lois groped for the right word, “I’d have to say . . . happy. Not what I expected, at all. It feels like what you see when a pup that loves its master is greeting him. No wonder you slept well, if it feels as good to you as it does to me . . .” She sort of trailed off. “I wouldn’t normally say this, but I’m getting a hunch about this place . . .” she trailed off again.

“I guess that the house was just waiting for the right kind of person,” I responded. “It was pretty rough on everyone else. I’m glad that you like it too.”

“Look at these floors,” she mused, “They were beautiful before Hewitt painted them over. You can still make out some traces of the parquetry patterns. If he hadn’t already hanged himself, I’d help you to do it.”

<==Previous Next==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Flocking Bay

#LOST TIME #Part 2 of 3 #Flocking Bay #Written by De Writer

6 notes · View notes

noxus-the-venomous-blog · 5 years

Text

Part 2 Problems and Solutions

“Welcome to Broadsiders, the evilest bar on earth. Can I start you off with a beer?”

Noxious tilted his head. “I feel like that makes this place sound more cheesy than evil. Also i'll take two beers.” He rests on the barstool and pulls out his wallet. The table he leaned over was surprisingly clean despite the aesthetic around him. Multiple shades of wood panels made up the walls around him as if this was where Theseus’ ship was stranded. The setting also seem to oppose itself; along with pirate themed paraphernalia and expected things such as oars and anchors, robotic heads and lit up circuitry boards could be seen dotting the walls.

The bartender shrugged. “Yeah but the managers stress that we say it every time, especially to people in costume. Domestic or imported?” she asked while approaching the tap. Her appearance, like the rest of the bar, was a contradiction. She looked as though a cyborg was wearing a Halloween pirate costume. A cheap tri-corner hat sat atop over braided hair, while a corset and Naval jacket only slightly covered a body tattooed with cogs and machinery.

“Domestic… No imported.”

“Too late, already pouring.” she spoke snidely holding the glass with a glove meant to look like a futuristic prosthetic

“Blasts… Wait what do you mean costume?! This isn't a costume!” he insisted while running a gloved finger over the rubber of his mask, “this is a required safety tool in my profession. I mix chemicals that can undo the world and warp your mind into a brainless-”

She cut him off. “Where are they?”

“What?”

“Did you bring these chemicals with you? Are they here now?”

“No…”

“Then you don't need the mask and wear it anyway. That’s a costume. Besides, a good a trenchcoat and an old gas mask ain’t exactly modern science apparel,” she said smugly while handing him a beer, “don’t be offended, if it weren't for people into dress up this place would close down.”

Noxious looked around the shabby bar to see all manner of obscure personas. People with fake halos, fursuits, anime cosplay and facial adornments. “This place is like a comic book convention… But without the oxygen, optimism and joy...”

“Yeah we were going for that. I think the owner got rich off of collecting comic books. It's a nerd watering hole,” she explained pushing the drinks forward.

Noxious gazed down at them grimly. I’m not a nerd...

The woman walked away to serve other customers. Noxious pulled out a small black tube he had rolled and banded in his coat and began straightening it out. He attached it to the rubber port on his mask, let the other end fall into the beer and slowly took a sip.

He crinkled his nose up at it. “Too cold..”

Noxious then removed the tube and placed it on a napkin in front of him. He stared impatiently at the condensation forming on the glass as a rather bulky man took the bar stool next to him.

“Both those beers for you?” the large man said, leaning forward and resting his elbows across the dusty wooden bar. He was shirtless and dotted with scars. As Noxious stared at him from the corner of the plexiglass goggles, he couldn't help but wonder if the man had been sweating or was just naturally shiny. Noxious decided he didn’t like either of those explanations.

“Yes...” Noxious uttered, degloving his hand to feel the temperature on the side of his glass.

The big guy chuckled. “I like that tube thing. You look like an anteater when you use it” He gestured the bartender over to them.

Behind his mask, Noxious rolled his eyes and continued to feel the glasses.

“Beer ain’t gonna bite you kid,” the larger man said with a smile, “at least the first two won't. Name’s B P, pleasure to meet you.”

The goggles on nox’s mask fogged for a moment as he felt a tingle on his neck. “Your voice. Your size. I know you, your that guy who beat up all those security guards at that bank… Crap I shouldn't have said that so loud!” he stammered, wondering if he just made an enemy.

“Heh, don't worry about it. The people here… Well excuse my french but they dont give a yiff about what you say. Everyone here is either roleplaying, or playing a role if you get my meaning.”

“Yeah...” noxious agreed, although he in fact didn’t get what the other man meant.

“Anywho I think I know who you are too. You’re that blurry guy on all those security cameras whenevers there's a science related break in... Toxic?”

“Noxious.”

“You still should consider the ant eater,” BP suggested as the bartender finally returned. “Hey let me get two beers just like my friend here.”

She began to pour from the same tap. “Also me and him are big time villains so we shouldn't have to pay”

A now embarrassed face hid behind the rubber mask. Noxious began to imagine if it was possible to lean back far enough to vanish inside the mask like some sort of phantom turtle.

The bartender rolled her eyes. “Yeah yeah I'm sure. Table fifteen says they work for lord vader himself, Table four is a vampire and the guy in the lounge says he can travel through wires and live inside computers. But here in the real world drinks aren't free. And we don't take coins or magic currency either.”

Noxious let out a sigh of relief. Now he understood why this bar was recommended to him. He leaned over and felt his beer, realized it was the right temperature and quickly re-assembled his straw. He downed each glass as fast as he could, pulled that straw out and tried to catch his breath.

BP seeing this growled, “CHALLENGE ACCEPTED,” and began inhaling each of his beers.

Noxious just blinked. “You can't drink slow with a straw. If it’s too cold it would have hurt my head but another few moments and it wouldn't have been cold enough.”

“You know what you like, I'm all for that! So what's your angle? Poison the world?” asked the heft villain while gesturing for more drinks.

“...I feel as though the world needs to be medicated and im trying to invent the perfect plan on how to do it.”

“Crap that sounds nobel.” BP stated as the bartender slid them four more drinks. He stroked his spiky beard curiously and asked, “then if you’re pro chemicals why wear a mask that blocks chemicals?”

“This mask is modified… In the chamber is a small atomizer giving me a slow release of my own toxins. It makes me build a tolerance to the fumes I have to work around,” noxious explained, proudly, he had always wanted someone to ask him that.

“I thought you were gonna say because it looks cool, which I would have accepted, but your answer is way better. So how are you not high as a kite during that process?” he leaned back in his chair, eying Noxious curiously.

“Unavoidable. On my way over here I could see sounds...” Noxious trailed off staring up at the ceiling. “But it will all be worth it.”

“Damn right it will be. Believe in the road you pick or spend your whole life feeling lost.” BP stood up and downed one of the beers. “When I was a kid I was always a problem. Parents couldn't take me anywhere. Never did good in school. When I got work, everyone figured if things went wrong I would be the problem. If matters required delicacy I would be a problem. My whole life I've been called the problem of any situation i find myself in. So I decided own it. Wear it like a badge.” He beat his chest with one hand proudly. “I AM WHO I AM AND THAT WILL ALWAYS BE A BIG PROBLEM PROBLEM TO SOMEONE!” He paused. “...But I don't have to make that a problem for me.”

“You seem like good people BP… Wait… BP… “ Noxious recoiled.

“Yeah. BP stands for big problem”

“I knew that.” noxious grumbled, although he did in fact not know that until now.

#Noxus

16 notes · View notes

ibrahimfarrukh-blog · 5 years

Photo

Why would you make out of words a cage for your own bird? When it sings so sweet. The screaming, heaving, fuckery of the world?

► GENERAL INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Ibrahim Farrukh

NICKNAME(S): N/A

AGE: Thirty-Six

GENDER: Cis Male

PRONOUNS: He/Him

OCCUPATION: Zoologist

SEXUALITY: Pansexual

LANGUAGES: English, Urdu

► APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: Riz Ahmed

HEIGHT: 5′8″

BUILD: Athletic

DOMINANT HAND: Right

HAIR COLOR: Black

EYE COLOR: Brown

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: n/a

► BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: Reno, Nevada

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Perfection Valley, Nevada

PARENTS: Bashir Farrukh & Zarine Farrukh

SIBLINGS: Laila Farrukh (younger sister) & Aisha Farrukh (younger sister)

PETS: Sania (cat)

► ABOUT

He was born in Reno, Nevada, and lived there his entire life until he went to university. He studied zoology in school, and proceeded to get his masters in the subject.

He began working for the state government, finding himself spending most of his time in small towns and going wherever the government had him go. Still, for the most part, he spent his time in Reno with his family who all still lived in the city.

One month ago, the state government was being told by the people of a small town Perfection Valley that there were strange creatures on their land. They didn’t believe them, but they still needed to send someone to investigate and figure out what exactly these people were talking about. They sent Ibrahim to Perfection, telling him he was probably going to only find a bunch of wacky and bored locals trying to waste state funding.

After arriving in Perfection, he expected to see absolutely nothing happening in the town - and that was exactly what he found. He didn’t see any sign of the giant worms locals were talking about. All he found was a dead beat town of a small population of less than 100. Ibrahim wanted to leave and go anywhere else, but he was expected to stay for a few months to see if there was any possibility of any strange animals.

He spends most of his time in the Rosenbloom Research Facility, and as he was conducting research on the area, he realized there was a salt water lake in the middle of the desert, something extremely strange. Although he knows he’s there to investigate “giant worms,” his focus is now on this lake and figuring out what type of creatures are in it.

Currently, he lives in the Desert Inn. If he’s not at Rosenbloom or Lake Placid, he’s almost always hiding away in his hotel room.

Ibrahim is very independent and enjoys working alone, which is why he often travels around the state by himself. He likes going to new places and studying these different places. He doesn’t often get attached to people as he moves around so much, and he’s given up on relationships years ago. For right now, it’s just him and his cat that he brings with him everywhere he goes. Sometimes his family jokes that he’s a lone wolf who doesn’t need anyone else.

► THINGS DONE:

► HABITS:

► KNOWS HOW TO:

#about #syfy.intro

5 notes · View notes

atlanticcanada · 3 years

Text

Billionaire Richard Branson reaches space in his own ship

Swashbuckling entrepreneur Richard Branson hurtled into space aboard his own winged rocket ship Sunday in his boldest adventure yet, beating out fellow billionaire Jeff Bezos.

The nearly 71-year-old Branson and five crewmates from his Virgin Galactic space tourism company reached an altitude of about 53 miles (88 kilometers) over the New Mexico desert -- enough to experience three to four minutes of weightlessness and see the curvature of the Earth -- and then safely glided back home to a runway landing.

"Seventeen years of hard work to get us this far," a jubilant Branson said as he congratulated his team on the trip back.

Branson became the first person to blast off in his own spaceship, beating Bezos by nine days. He also became only the second septuagenarian to depart for space. (John Glenn flew on the shuttle at age 77 in 1998.)

With about 500 people watching, including Branson's wife, children and grandchildren, a twin-fuselage aircraft with his space plane attached underneath took off in the first stage of the flight.

The space plane then detached from the mother ship at an altitude of about 8 1/2 miles (13 kilometers) and fired its engine, reaching the edge of space. The entire flight up and back aboard the sleek white ship, named Unity, took just under 15 minutes.

Virgin Galactic conducted three previous test flights into space with crews of just two or three.

The flamboyant, London-born founder of Virgin Atlantic Airways wasn't supposed to fly until later this summer. But he assigned himself to an earlier flight after Bezos announced plans to ride his own rocket into space from Texas on July 20, the 52nd anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landing.

Branson, who has kite-surfed the English Channel and attempted to circle the world in a hot-air balloon, denied he was trying to beat Bezos.

Another one of Branson's chief rivals in the space-tourism race among the world's richest men, SpaceX's Elon Musk, arrived in New Mexico to witness the flight, wishing Branson via Twitter, "Godspeed!"

Bezos likewise sent his wishes for a safe and successful flight, though he also took to Twitter to enumerate the ways in which be believes his company's rides will be better.

Bezos' Blue Origin company intends to send tourists past the so-called Karman line 62 miles (100 kilometers) above Earth, which is is recognized by international aviation and aerospace federations as the threshold of space.

But NASA, the Air Force, the Federal Aviation Administration and some astrophysicists consider the boundary between the atmosphere and space to begin 50 miles (80 kilometers) up.

The risks to Branson and his crew were underscored in 2007, when a rocket motor test in California's Mojave Desert left three workers dead, and in 2014, when a Virgin Galactic rocket plane broke apart during a test flight, killing one pilot and seriously injuring the other.

Ever the showman, Branson insisted on a global livestream of the Sunday morning flight and invited celebrities and former space station astronauts to the company's Spaceport America base in New Mexico.

R&B singer Khalid was on hand to perform his new single "New Normal" -- a nod to the dawning of space tourism -- while CBS "Late Show" host Stephen Colbert served as the event's master of ceremonies.

Virgin Galactic already has more than 600 reservations from would-be space tourists, with tickets initially costing $250,000 apiece. Blue Origin is waiting for Bezos' flight before announcing its ticket prices.

Musk's SpaceX, which is already launching astronauts to the International Space Station for NASA and is building moon and Mars ships, is also competing for space tourism dollars. But its capsules will do more than make brief, up-and-down forays; they will go into orbit around the Earth, with seats costing well into the millions. Its first private flight is set for September.

Musk himself has not committed to going into space anytime soon.

"It's a whole new horizon out there, new opportunities, new destinations," said former NASA astronaut Chris Ferguson, who commanded the last shuttle flight 10 years ago. He now works for Boeing, which is test-flying its own space capsule.

"This is really sort of like the advent of commercial air travel, only 100 years later," Ferguson added. "There's a lot waiting in the wings."

It’s a beautiful day to go to space. We’ve arrived at @Spaceport_NM. Get ready to watch LIVE at 7:30 am PT | 10:30 am ET | 3:30 pm BST https://t.co/PcvGTmA661 #Unity22 pic.twitter.com/4KjGPpjz0M

— Richard Branson (@richardbranson) July 11, 2021

Big day ahead. Great to start the morning with a friend. Feeling good, feeling excited, feeling ready. Watch #Unity22 launch and livestream TODAY at 7:30 am PT | 10:30 am ET | 3:30 pm BST.@virgingalactic @elonmusk https://t.co/1313b4RAKI pic.twitter.com/FRQqrQEbH8

— Richard Branson (@richardbranson) July 11, 2021

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/3yK3J9z

#new brunswick #prince edward island #nova scotia #news #politics #canada #CTVAtlantic

0 notes

artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

You're welcome to join me

A/N:

“After a long night of partying with the BOTS tour cast, Bianca makes her way to her hotel room to relax. She gets out of drag and she starts walking down memorylane, thinking about her time with her sister Adore on the show and after er success and before she knows it, the younger queen turns up behind her hotel room door. Bianca takes the younger in to let her shower and sleep the night away. Adore, however, has other plans ready.”

I do not know anything about writing about Drag Race queens and this is my first fic ever, so please take it with a shot of tequila or at least get medicated before reading this. I tried my best and I am semi-proud of this fic….or so I keep telling myself.

Biadore is a challenging pair to write about, but I hope this gives off the right vibe and I didn’t just completely ruin one of the biggest ships in Drag Race herstory. I also used female pronouns throughout the fic and didn’t really mention their boy names, which I hope no one gets triggered by.

This fic is not influenced by All Stars 2 so just act like it didn’t happen at all. Also, this fic is not related to reality in any way. I just took a random set of queens for my ideal BOTS tour cast, which has actually never happened.

I hope you enjoy this!!

Party!!

It was close to 3 am. Bianca had just arrived to her hotel room for the night. It had felt like the BOTS after party would never turn down, but she had finally managed to sneak out. Not that she didn’t enjoy partying just a much as she used to. She still loved a good turn-up when she had the chance, but the queen knew that she wanted to be down for breakfast early the next morning. She also knew, from experience, that flying an 8 hour flight hungover was one of the worst things a human could ever live through. She had had a drink or two, but she was feeling practically nothing. Her tolerance for all kinds of substances had grown quite thick throughout her career. She knew however that some of the younger queens, who were lightweights to say the least, were going to look like hell the next morning, which made Bianca feel a small glint of joy. She really wasn’t a bitch, it just felt good, for once, not to be the one sitting with sunglasses on at the breakfast table.

She sat onto her bed and finally pulled the black wig off of her head. She pulled the wig cap off and placed her left hand on top of her head, feeling her scalp. She started pulling the layers of eyelashes off, that were still somehow clinging onto her lids. She took her time getting out of drag, because she honestly had no reason to rush the process. The queen had grown quite attached to the process of going from Bianca to Roy. She liked to watch the change happen step by step. She didn’t have an identity crisis while getting out of drag, she knew the difference between her drag persona and her real boy-self.

The queen did however enjoy seeing the lines between the two blur as she removed the dress and lashes, looking at herself in the mirror.

She had always thought about the statement “beauty without a gender” and it was something that truly fascinated the queen. You did not need a label to be beautiful. You could be feminine and still a male or you could be masculine and still be a woman or you didn’t need to be anything out of the “options” available. You could be anything you wanted and still be beautiful, beauty did not require a gender or identity, it could be anything you wanted it to be. The queen hadn’t really let the thought about genderless beauty into her mind before going through his journey on drag race. She had, of course, come across people identifying as gender fluid or non-binary before the show, that was kind of given when you worked in the business she did, but that wasn’t quite the same thing.

The only way she could bring her vision alive was by describing her sister, Adore.

The younger queen had gotten her attention from the moment they entered the workroom and were faced with the first group of queens. The other queens had all been quite blank and one dimensional to Bianca, except for Adore. The younger was so androgynous, that for a second she was sure she was looking at a rebellious teenage girl who had snuck into the workroom and just taken a seat. Adore had had her eyes smoked with black and purple eyeshadow and her lips were painted almost black. The sight was something else. Bianca was taken aback to say the least. Their drag styles were completely different and so were their personalities, but for some reason she felt like the younger queen was her biggest competition and her best possible ally at the same time. Adore’s attitude and competing style had been a shock to Bianca, because she hadn’t honestly expected something so thought-out and powerful from someone so young.

Over the last few months however, things had taken a turn. The tour was going just fine and Adore owned the stage every time she performed. Her voice and stage presence were something nobody else had. However, it wasn’t the tour itself that had Bianca confused, it was Adore’s behaviour during the after parties. Bianca had always known that Adore got “affectionate” when the queen was high or drunk. The older didn’t really mind Adore giving an endless amount of lap dances to her, but the fact that Adore actually showed up to Bianca’s hotel room door almost every time after a good after party was something that threw Bianca off a little bit. She wasn’t used to queens getting so close and physical with each other. It was quite clear that, if given the opportunity, Adore wouldn’t mind going even further, but Bianca had always tried to put a stop to it before things got too far. Yes, Adore had gotten a mouthful of her during one especially wild night, but after that nothing had really happened between the two off stage. Bianca did not consider herself to be emotionally available for any type of relationship right now and she had gotten her fair share of STD scares with one night stands. So the queen had just decided to stay back and focus all of her attention on working and keeping her career alive.

There was one conversation however that her and Adore had had during a smoke break at a small bar in Amsterdam a few weeks back, that had stuck in Bianca’s head.

FLASHBACK:

They had just finished a very successful show for a huge audience in Holland. The whole cast was high on their massive success - among other things - and everyone had already spread out around the city to have a great night and probably not remember any of it in the morning. Adore and Bianca had stayed in the bar they had performed in, because the feel of the crowd had been so amazing and they just wanted to feed off of it for a little while longer.

The two queens were standing on a small unlit balcony that was just a metre off the ground. Adore was smoking her fourth or fifth joint of the night and Bianca was just leaning on the railing sipping on a drink she had gotten from a random guest backstage.

“Have you ever thought about the way we come off on stage?” Adore suddenly asked, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled between the two queens.

“How do you mean?” Bianca asked turning to the younger.

“Like, the vibe we give off on stage is so different from how we are in real life” Adore said and took another drag out of her joint.

“Well, I think people know, that when they come to a gig, they are going to meet Bianca Del Rio and Adore Delano, rather than Roy and Danny” Bianca said and smiled faintly, “I mean our drag personalities are different from our actual personalities, right?

“How shitty would it be for someone to come to a show and expected to see us as two random dudes on stage?” Adore said and giggled.

Bianca did not answer, she just laughed and poked her eyelash with her finger, trying to keep it from blocking her view any more than it already did.

“How do you think we look on stage?” Adore said after they had stayed quiet for another minute.

“Fierce and probably bitchy or at least that’s what I’m going for when I perform” Bianca said.

“You are fucking fierce” Adore said and looked Bianca straight in the eye, the younger was not joking.

“Aw thank you darling” Bianca said with her voice dripping sarcasm, “I think you could be too, but it’s too bad I overshadow you every time”

“Fuck all the way off” Adore laughed and kicked the other queen playfully, “No but for real, I don’t think people see how fucking sweet you are off stage”

“I think everyone got enough of that on Drag Race, don’t you think?” Bianca said and thought about the way she had come across on the show.

“I could never get enough of it” Adore said and smiled.

“Bitch you are high as a fucking kite” Bianca laughed.

“Maybe, but I never lie, you know that” Adore said and smiled.

“I do know”

The two sunk into a silence again. That was the beauty of their friendship, they didn’t need to keep a conversation going all the time, they were totally comfortable just being around each other in silence.

“Have you ever had ‘a friends with benefits’ kind of thing?” Adore asked and drew small quotation marks into the air.

Bianca just looked at the other queen with an eyebrow raised. She had never really thought about anything related to relationships since her big win, but she had been there for Adore when the younger went through her stormy breakup.

“Yes, but it was a long long time ago” She said slowly, “And you can keep hoping, but you know my contract with charity work, I do it only onc-”

“Yea I know” Adore laughed, “Once a year”

“And this isn’t your year” Bianca laughed and emptied her glass.

Adore just poked her tongue out from her mouth and dropped her burned out joint to the street below.

“Let’s get back in, I need a drink” The younger said and they walked back into the steamy mass of people.

FLASHBACK END

Nothing had happened between the two after the talk, but Bianca had thought about it. There had always been tension of some sort between the two and it had not gotten any lighter after the quick suck Adore had given her, after one particularly good after party. They had both just ignored it on stage and Bianca did everything in her power to keep Adore out of her bed, when they were not on stage.

Bianca finally dropped her dress on the floor and tore off the padding and the semi-tuck she had had on for the night. The queen pulled on the first set of non-drag clothes she could find. She got between the sheets, using one hand to wipe her makeup off with a makeup-wipe one hand to skip through the channels on the hotel tv. She knew that it was no use trying to sleep just yet, because it was for sure that once the rest of the queens started arriving back to the hotel, someone would be behind her door asking for condoms, money or a place to sleep.

Just as Bianca finished half of her face, she heard a knock on the door. She smiled a little because she knew exactly what was waiting behind the door. She pulled the covers off and walked to the door. For her own amusement she looked through the peephole on the door and saw just what she was waiting to see. A bed of long red hair tucked under a knitted beanie, a acid-washed denim jacket with colorful pins coloring the shoulders, a black top with the batman symbol on it and a high-waisted set of jean shorts with torn-up fishnet stockings covering the long thick thighs. She was carrying her Adidas sneakers in her hand and she was holding an empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s whisky on her other hand. Her makeup had stayed intact surprisingly well - even though her green lipstick had smeared onto her cheek - her eyes were still smokey and framed by full dark brows.

“Baby, let me in” Adore’s voice called and Bianca smiled as she opened the door.

“Well well well, if it isn’t our little hoe returning home” Bianca laughed and took in Adore’s presence and the insane stench of liquor that lingered in the hallway.

“Can I sleep in here tonight?” Adore asked and looked up into Bianca’s eyes, “Wow, you look like shit, what happened?”

“Fuck no, you can’t sleep here tonight” Bianca said as she realized she had only removed the makeup from half of her face, which made her look like a fucked up before and after commercial.

“Whyyy-y?” Adore whined and placed one hand on the older queen’s shoulder.

“Because I fucking say so” Bianca answered, “You have a perfectly good room of your own, right down the hall.”

“No no no” Adore slurred, “It’s occupied by Katya and that clown looking girl from her season, whatever her name is”

“Trixie?” Bianca asked and couldn’t help the smirk that covered her lips.

“Yes” Adore whined, “Now can I please sleep here?”

“On one condition” Bianca said after a moment of silence. Adore’s drunken face lit up.

“Anything” Adore breathed.

“You stay the fuck away from my dick, you hear me?” Bianca said and Adore looked confused for a second.

“Yeah sure, I’m keeping my hands to myself” She said and raised both of her hands up in the air.

“Wonderful” Bianca said and moved to the side, letting the intoxicated redhead in, “I also need you to shower, you smell like the floor of our old tour bus”

“It’s the scent of success, bitch!” Adore said and sat down to the floor and pulled her beanie off from her wig.

“If that were true, I would smell so much worse than you” Bianca laughed and took a firm hold of Adore’s hand. She started pulling the younger queen towards the huge bathroom.

“I don’t want to stand” Adore whined and allowed herself to be dragged to the cold tile floor of the bathroom.

“You don’t need to stand, you are more than welcome to sit on the shower floor, idiot” Bianca laughed.

“Let’s do that mama!” Adore laughed and gave a weak tongue-pop.

“Stop acting like Laganja, I’m still having PTSD from all that!” Bianca laughed and turned on the bright lights of the bathroom.

Adore dropped the shoes she was holding in her hand and once Binca let her go, Adore took a firm hold of the zipper holding her jean shorts on. She pulled it open and dragged them down her legs, wiggling herself out of them.

“You know this would go so much faster if you would just stand up” Bianca sighed and folded the younger queen’s shorts and placed them onto the tile counter.

“Standing up is for pussies, I’m doing this my way” Adore declared and started pulling her fishnet stockings down.

Bianca had never been the one to stare at someone as they were getting out of drag, she usually had her own appearance to worry about, but now she really had nowhere else to look. Her eyes were glued to Adore’s thin, but surprisingly flexible figure as the younger pulled the stockings off of her legs and threw them out of her reach. She dropped her jean jacket to the floor and pulled her shirt over her head. She was left with a pair of worn-out and lazily duct taped underwear and her massive red wig.

“You just never tuck properly, do you?” Bianca asked and laughed as she watched the younger tear the tape off.

“I never really wear anything that asks for a full tuck” Adore said and cursed as the first strip of duct tape fell off.

“That’s a choice” Bianca laughed and turned around to turn the shower on, when she heard a breathy moan erupting from the younger queen.

Bianca froze in place, her one hand still resting on the shower handle and one on her hip. She felt shivers travelling up her spine and a tingling dancing along her scalp. What the hell was that?! The older slowly turned around and gave a more than confused look to the younger. Adore was just intoxicatedly grinning and waving a chunk of tape around.

“Got it!” She laughed and with that dropped her underwear on the ground.

“Get in there!” Bianca laughed and pushed the younger queen under the hot water stream.

Adore yelped and jumped back just a bit. She pulled off her lashes and grasped her massive red wig off of her almost black hair. Adore threw her belongings at the older.

“Take good care of those okay?” Adore slurred and stepped back under the fountain on steaming hot water.

“I will”

“Wait, before you go” Adore said and the older spun around.

“What do you need?” Bianca asked.

“So many things” Adore said and winked at the other queen.

“You nasty bitch” Bianca laughed, “I fucking love you”

Adore grinned.

“Not anything like that, maybe another night” Adore laughed.

“What is it then?” Bianca asked.

“I was just watching Trixie and Katya at the after party” Adore began, “I just think that I’ll never have that love all the other queens seem to be having, they really love and respect the fuck out of each other”

Bianca sighed and took a seat on the tile floor, thinking.

“Because the industry we are in, relationships are hard to keep healthy without serious commitment, which I think is not your gig” Bianca said with a glint in her eye.

“Fuck off” Adore laughed and splashed water at the older queen.

“I just think that when the time comes, we will all settle down with someone” Bianca said and stood up.

“Yea” Adore said thoughtfully and turned around, with her back to Bianca, “Crushes never really work out, we are living proof of that”

Bianca froze.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing” Adore said and looked at Bianca over her shoulder.

Bianca just walked out of the bathroom, carrying the younger queen’s clothes on her other arm and the sticky pair of lashes with the flaming red wig in her other hand. She laid the clothes on the white wooden dresser that was positioned in the corner of the large hotel room. She yawned and took her place on the bed. The queen’s head was swimming with thoughts. What the hell was that? Bianca knew that the sexual tension between her and Adore was always thick, but it had clearly taken a toll on the younger. When Bianca had found out that Adore had infact been attracted to her during their season, she had been thrilled. But know the tension seemed thick enough to be sliced with a knife. Nothing seemed to make any kind of sense anymore.

She opened her phone and haphazardly scrolled through instagram, not really giving a shit about any of the posts she was seeing. Most of the pictures were from the after party she had been a part of and she couldn’t help but notice Adore and her in the background, sitting together in all of them. She locked her phone with a frustrated sigh and dug the remote out from between the bedsheets. She couldn’t focus on anything. She saw Adore’s naked body every time she blinked. She heard the moan ringing in her ears and Adore’s cold “nothing” comment kept pissing her off.

She managed to skip through two channels before she heard her sister’s voice from the bathroom. At first Bianca thought Adore was talking to her, so she made her way to the bathroom door and cracked it open, but soon enough she realised the younger queen was singing. Her voice was soft and when paired with the sound of pouring water and the echo of the bathroom, it sounded almost angelic. Adore’s voice was usually much smokier and almost had a jazz type vibe to it, but now it sounded so different. The song ended and silence settled into the bathroom. Suddenly Adore’s velvety voice danced through the bathroom:

“You are more than welcome to join me, darling”

————-

TO BE CONTINUED?

#bianca del rio #adore delano #biadore #fluff #light smut #tw cursing #widensassy #rpdr fanfiction #submission #canon compliant #tour fic

129 notes · View notes

thecoroutfitters · 6 years

Link

Some of you are surely thinking, “Cache is writing about kites … he’s lost it for sure this time!”

But don’t give up reading because you might miss some lifesaving tricks. There are environments where traditional ‘last mile’ signal devices are less-effective.

Briefly:

Traditional ‘last mile’ signals can be impossible to see through a forest canopy or in a small watercraft in rough seas.

Kites are easy to make from supplies you probably have in your survival kit.

MRE heaters are a source of hydrogen gas and can be used to turn a lightweight bivvy sack into a signal balloon.

Disclaimer – Like many survival projects, this one can be dangerous. Specifically, it involves pointy objects, MRE heaters (scalding hot water) and hydrogen gas, which is both caustic and explosive. So, if you decide to construct the balloon, please use sound judgement and keep it away from any sources of flame. So, sorry … no smoking. And do not mix the hot-air and hydrogen balloon designs or you may pay dearly for the oversight.

Jungle, Tropical and Coastal Rainforest Environments

On my last trip to Brazil, I noticed that many traditional “last mile” visual signaling devices, such as signal mirrors, would not have worked well under the jungle canopy even if you climbed a tree or managed to find a clearing. Climbing a hill would be about your only shot with a mirror, but there are multiple problems with that.

First, you cannot see hills and mountains easily in dense jungle, so you do not know if you are walking up a hill or a mountain. Second, traveling uphill contravenes traditional survival wisdom unless you have a working radio.

3 Second SEAL Test Will Tell You If You’ll Survive A SHTF Situation

Lastly, even if you are successful, unless you are signaling to aircraft or someone who is somehow not underneath the canopy, nobody will be able to see your signals!

Maritime Environment

Last spring, I had the privilege of interviewing Jose Salvador Alvarenga, who survived adrift at sea for an incredible 428 days. Salvador drifted from the west coast of Mexico to the Marshall Islands, North of Australia.

During his drift, he saw many container ships as he drifted through shipping lanes, but with only a mirror, he could not attract their attention. On one maddening occasion, be was close enough to see them fishing off the back of the container vessel and he tried to get their attention, but they just waved, kept on fishing and motored right on by.

Visual signals do not work well in rough seas where rafts and small boats that lack a tall mast or superstructures are only momentarily visible as they crest a wave and then disappear back into a trough.

Another issue with craft that are low to the water is that the distance at which they fall below the horizon is much shorter than it would be for a taller craft.

In a maritime environment, a kite or balloon flying high above your raft could be seen at far greater distances, which is a key advantage when you are trying to be found and communicate that you are in distress in the vast expanse of the ocean.

In any case, when lost at sea, constructing a radar reflector and getting it up as high as you can is time and resources well spent since so many vessels have radar. If you do not have a radar reflector, one can be constructed by creating three slotted, Mylar-covered wire or cardboard frames, one for each dimension, and assembling them to radiate from a central point along each axis.

Kites

A kite flown in the middle of the nowhere is going to create the same curiosity factor as a balloon and one that is signal orange is immediately identifiable as a distress signal. Write SOS on it in large, contrasting letters and your message will be clear.

About all you could do from here is to add some retroreflective or IR-reflective tape to it or a small strobe such as an APALS. Just keep in mind that a wet string could conduct electricity from a lightening strike. All you need is a breeze and someone to see the kite and you are in business.

A kite can be flow for many hours and is reusable and field-repairable.

How to Build a Kite

Building a kite is easy.

Form a lower-case letter ‘t’ with two lightweight sticks or similar suitable material. The central stick or spine should be 1/5th longer than the crossmember. Lash them together securely in the ‘t’-shape.

Run cordage between the members to create the characteristic ‘diamond’ shape of a kite, notching the ends of the sticks so the thread stays put.

Lay the kite shape on a signal orange emergency blanket and draw a diamond shape a couple inches larger than the kite in each direction.

Fold the sides around the frame and secure them with 100 MPH tape so that the blanket is taught on the frame.

Attach a line to the intersection of the two sticks. Poke a small hole in the material and pass the line through the hole. The line should match the length of the crossmember. Run thread from the top and both sides of the ‘t’ to the tip of that string. This point is where the line will be attached.

Cut a strip of fabric or Mylar for the tail that is 6x that length of the spine. Feed the tail between the fabric and spine at the bottom of the kite and tie it at the mid-point forming a double tail. If all you have is Mylar and the tail is too light, add length and tie bows in it to create more drag.

Write ‘SOS’ on the kite is bold, block letters.

Attach the line.

Supplies Useful for Building a Kite – I am going to stick to supplies carried in survival kits or which can likely be procured from the environment.

Signal Orange Emergency Blanket – I prefer to carry aluminized polyethylene emergency blankets because Mylar is noisier and more fragile, but this is an application where Mylar may be superior since it is extremely light weight. If you do not have an emergency blanket, a lightweight trash bag or emergency poncho would probably also work.

Two Lightweight Sticks – To form the frame of the kite.

Kevlar Thread, 60-80 Lbs Test – This will be used to tie the kite to the framework and as a kite line. I carry Olive Kevlar thread in this test range because is so multiuse, but an inner nylon strand of para cord would work as well. Unfortunately, a long length of para cord takes up more space than survivalists are willing to commit to pocket survival kit, so you may have to tie multiple inner stands together if para cord is what you prefer to carry.

Sharpie Mini – A sharpie mini is small, but can draw large block letters with little effort and the felt tip is easier on the paper-thin material the kite is made of.

Knife or Scissors – To cut the fabric, string, sticks and tail and notch the sticks.

100 MPH Tape – To secure the fabric to itself when stretched tight across the frame.

Balloons

Unless you are in a part of the world that floats balloons in the middle of nowhere, balloons can be effective signals. Sure, they are not effective in windy weather, but kites are as long as the wind is not blowing too hard and anything out of the ordinary draws curiosity … especially out in the middle of nowhere.

I have stumbled upon a couple of crashed balloons in my adventures. They turned out to have been lifted by school kids, but even on the ground, on both occasions, the reflective Mylar caught my eye and made me curious enough to hike out to them and send the tags back to the kids.

I imagine they were surprised

Surface-to-Air Recovery System (STARS) and Skyhook

Balloons and the military have a long and storied history. From artillery observation balloons to signaling balloons to surface-to-air recovery systems.

One of my mentors in survival was Lt. Colonel Charles ‘Chuck’ Jurgensen who served with 1st SFOD Delta (Delta Force). I imagine he was also a CIA operative, judging by where he was and details of some of the many war stories he related to me over the years, but he never suggested that he worked for the CIA.

The man operated in some far-flung parts of the world and did some crazy things and one of them was using a surface to air recovery system.

The system was called the Fulton Surface-To-Air Recovery System (STARS) in development and named Skyhook once it was ready for operational use and sounds like something right out of a James Bond film. In fact, Skyhook was featured in Thunderball, The Green Berets and Black Knight.

A rescue package is air dropped to the operator, who dons a harness and sends a line up into the air on a helium balloon. Then a specially-outfitted C-130 with a V-shaped yoke on the font of the plane, snags the line which is anchored to the plane and fed into to a winch.

The cargo, in case Chuck, attached to the line, is yanked up into the air and reeled into the back of the aircraft as it flies over. It takes 5-6 minutes to reel you in as you are dragged through the air behind the plane at 125mph. Chuck said it was a wild ride.

Well, his actual words were more along the lines of, “You couldn’t have driven a toothpick up my @$$ with a sledge hammer!”

Commercial Products

BCB – I have seen a couple of commercial signaling balloons over the years. One is the commercially-available BCB product called the Location Marker Balloon (LMB). The LMB was designed for military operations in jungle terrain and weighs less than 2 pounds, which seems heavy for a balloon, but that is military gear for you.

This may be hard for some of my younger readers to appreciate, but it is nice to have signal devices that do not rely on batteries. The balloon is over a meter across and is radar reflective. It is inflated with an included helium cylinder and can carry chemical light sticks, of which two are included.

The LMB can be seen from 10 miles, and is visible at night if IR chemlights and night vision goggles are used. Since it floats above the jungle canopy, it should not be visible to enemy ground forces without the aid of air support. The balloon can also lift a radio antenna of up to 80 grams above the canopy.

Rescue Me Balloon – It appears a company is trying to bring a product to market that incorporates a signal strobe called the Rescue Me Balloon, but I see that crowdfunding attempts have not been successful yet. Perhaps they will be for sale in the future.

Field Expedient Signal Balloons

When I was a kid, I built a balloon out of a paper plate, some birthday candles, pins, string and tape.

Even though I launched in Arizona, where it can be difficult to get lift with only hot air, it gained altitude to about double the height of the power lines and made a little over half a block distance before it crashed into a power line, caught fire and fell into a neighbor’s yard … not necessarily in that order.

While the design we affectionately named the ‘Hindenburg’ was not a success on all accounts, it definitely attracted some attention, which is the point of signaling. You could build this design if that is all you had materials for, but I am going to test another design that will hopefully be more reusable and stay aloft a lot longer.

I intend to use materials I carry in my survival kit, like the kite design, so I’ll see if I can’t fill an orange bivvy sack with hydrogen gas. To generate the hydrogen, I’ll use MRE heaters.

If I can manage to capture the hydrogen without capturing too much water vapor, it should float, but we’ll see. In theory, it should work because a single MRE heater can put out up to 10 liters of hydrogen. I have never heard of anyone attempting this, but I would like to put it to the test.

Survival is the king of all DIY pursuits so there is only one way to find out.

Signal balloons should be tethered so they can indicate your location. An improvised balloon may not indicate your location for a long time, but many solutions to survival problems are less than ideal, but still end up getting the job done.

Survival Kit Supplies Useful for Building an Improvised Signal Balloon

Signal Orange Bivvy Sack –

Candles – Heat source. Some folks carry ‘trick’ wind-resistant birthday candles in survival kits. I carry small candles that are only slightly larger than birthday candles and made of beeswax, which has many survival-related uses.

I also carry a multi-wick candle in a tin in cold weather, which I will use to heat the air inside the bag before launch. This way, the smaller candles only need to keep the air hot. I will experiment with heating the air and reusing the balloon versus sending up a heat source.

Aluminum Sheeting– Aluminum foil will serve as a lightweight basket to carry the candles which will be our heat source. I carry thick aluminum sheeting to fold into a pot, use as a reflector and many other uses, but will use heavy duty aluminum foil here since it is cheaper and lighter.

Leader Wire – A loop of thin wire or light grass may be useful to hold the wall of the balloon away from the heat source. I carry 60 Lbs test, 7-strand, stainless steel, knot-able, coated leader wire, but any lightweight wire that can hold a shape would work.

Kevlar Thread, 60-80 Lbs Test – This will be used as a guy line to guide the balloon past branches and suspend the basket from the balloon.

Sharpie Mini – As noted under kites.

100 MPH Tape – 100 MPH tape will attach threads to the balloon to suspend the basket.

Paper – Include a note on water-resistant paper and include the date, your position, name and contact information. Balloons are typically a one-shot deal and sometimes are not found for a long time, so you would not want to trigger a search long after you have been found or recovered yourself on your own if the guy line breaks or gets burned through.

MRE Heaters – Helium is not the only lighter than air gas out there and since MRE heaters produce hydrogen gas and I carry one in my survival kit for a number of reasons, I will see how many I would need to float a balloon.

Surgical Tubing – As predicted, not only was steam was a problem, but so was the heat generated by the MRE Heaters, so I had to capture the hydrogen in a drum liner attached to the bivvy with surgical tubing, which I pinched off until the contents of the trash bag was sufficiently cool that the water vapor condensed back into water, after which, I un-pinched the tubing and transferred the gas.

I used Aluminum foil to protect the drum liner from the MRE heaters and to introduce the water to the MRE heaters without any gas escaping, I sealed an MRE hot beverage bag inside the drum liner and introduced the water after evacuating the air and sealing everything up tight!

I carry surgical tubing to access water in crevices, attach it to my pen to make a bellows tube so I don’t inhale smoke when stoking my fire, to propel my fling spear, to drive otter boards, as a backup tourniquet, pressure dressing and many other uses.

Drum Liner – See above. Common survival kit item with near-unlimited uses.

MRE Hot Beverage Bag – See above. I modify MRE hot beverage bags with 100 MPH tape and grommets and use them for treating water by various methods, carrying water, as waterproof wound dressings, floats, bobbers, hot water bottles and much more.

Aluminum Foil – See above or and in the section on kites.

from Survivopedia Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. How prepared are you for emergencies? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag

#SHTF #TEOTWAWKI #MARTIALLAW #BUGOUT #PREPPERBAG #USAF #USSOCOM #ARMY #NAVY #SurvivalFirestarter #Sur

0 notes

minghai2711a-blog · 7 years

Text

A dangerous Journey

The carroty sun, ponderous and feeble, was grudgingly abdicated from the throne in due course, the birds and kites alike, rejoiced their freedom from the tyranny, by dancing gaily in the sky, after long hideout, and the gentle yet compassionate zephyrs, as Mother Teresa, soothing the blemished earth.

A forlorn figure was seen standing and waiting stoically for hours on the heart of the Xom-Cui Bridge, a sharp disparity among the rushing and stampeding masses.

The bridge, conceivably one the oldest bridges, was built during the French colonial era. It had witnessed many afflictions from the various wars and destitution of the local population. If you stood on the middle of the bridge, you could catch sight of copious amounts of diminutive black wooden houses, as widely divergent matchboxes, were unauthorised constructed along the two sides of the riverbank.

A pear shaped woman, with an archetypal Vietnamese cone-shaped hat covered her head, and a distinctive loose white shirt, a pair of black baggy trousers, a thin flip-flop shoes, and a bulky soft leather handbag with a thick adjustable strap across her shoulder, was approaching the middle of the bridge.

“Mum,” Tuan greeted her mother apprehensively.

“Are you waiting for me?” asked Tuan’s mum with a stern tone, and yet, in her heart, she was very astounded to see her son waiting for her for the first time, and she could sense from her gut that her son might drop the lethal bombshell, by choosing the peculiar location, to chat with her surreptitiously.

“Yes, mum, could you let me leave this country by boat?” Tuan fretfully replied with poise.

“Oh! Are you sure? Tell me why?” Tuan’s mum interrogated her son further, and her wise, bright and shining eyes were seem gazing straight to his soul.

“Yes, I am definitely sure, I cannot see any future for our family here, and I want to take the risky chance.” Tuan replied audaciously with great determination after taking a deep breath.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Tuan’s mum riposted with soft and calm exterior, however, her interior’s mind was thrilled, shaken, and yet disquieted at the same time, her son had finally grown-up as a conscientious young man, and his first grown-up decision was risking his life for the family’s future.

That were the longest conversations Tuan had held with his mum in his entire life.

One month later, Tuan was staying with the others passengers, mostly young, in a large assembly house in the middle of coastal city - My Tho. Tuan’s brother – Loc, was originally accompanied his mother to see Tuan off, and yet he could not bear to separate from his beloved and attached elder brother, so he pleaded to his mum to allow him to go with Tuan.

Tuan’s mum, her tormented heart had shattered to the trillion pieces, it was a greatest gamble of her life with her own flesh and blood, the stake was too high, nevertheless, the only consolation she had, was she still had the youngest son with her to carry the family’s name.

“To be a man, shed blood, never shed tear,” that was Tuan’s motto, however, for the first time of his life, he could not restraint his tears as the ruptured dam, and the trillions words could not compete with the wailed weeps and blubbered like a child when he bid farewell to his mum. They all realised that this could be the last time they saw each other, the journey liked a flick of a coin - life or death, heaven or hell, communism or free world.

The brothers as the rest of the young men were arranged to stay at the bottom of the three storeys boat, and they all sat on the floor in a crammed space with low wooden ceiling, like African slaves without chains. The wall was covered with large plastic water containers, and during the journey; water was the only source of inlet.

At sea, the ship was violently rocking from side to side, appeared as the pendulum swinging swiftly and ferociously. Throughout the whole journey, the people at the bottom endured the most - vomits, urinates and unknown slimy liquids like the downpour of the heavy rain, and intolerable odours were permeated like virus in the compartments, nonetheless they were too debilitated to be bothered.

Time and day seemed hollow to them. When the sea was calm, Loc ventured upstairs, returned with a Vietnamese Jicama, and shared it with Tuan, it was the first time he tasted the solid food, and he was so touched, blood is always thicker than water, and it meant the world to him then and still is now.

Abruptly, people started to hustle to the stairs and the two brothers followed suit. That was the first time they saw the sunlight, and the gargantuan rescue net on the side of the titanic metal wall of the all-container ship, people were climbing to the desk, and old people, women and children were hoisted up on a lifeboat.

When Tuan reached the top, an Indian deck hand pulled him up, and he looked down to see his boat for the first time, because he boarded the boat in the peat dark night. It was an old tiny wooden fishing boat, Tuan was shocked to see the number of people on the deck, and they were extremely providential to be rescued by the British ship.

One week later, Tuan reached Hong Kong, and saw a few onboard reporters, and he asked one of them whether he could go his uncle house, and asked him to send a telegraph home.

Tuan’s house, the atmosphere was changed dramatically since they left, it seemed like the house was in moaning, the neighbours could sense the discrepancy, but no one uttered a word, it was an open secret.

“Telegraph for 68,” yelled the postman, Tuan’s grandfather rushed to door and followed by his sister. It was in English, Tuan’s sister translated the message, and the whole family was weeping with jubilation. The neighbours shared their elations too, and words spread like forest fire clandestinely to surrounding neighbourhood, and the first gleam of the light of hope, from the eternal murky and gloomy tunnel, after so many deaths.

In the newly adopted country, Tuan and Loc had many things to learn and to adapt, such as culture shock …, but comparing with the journey that the brothers had experienced, by confronting with the death’s devil head, the rest of the other matters were considered as very trifling indeed.

The main concern was then and still is, they are free, and they will treasure that freedom every day for the rest of their life.

First written on the 1 of February 2017

Updated on 29 of April 2017

0 notes