#Devine Site Work

[goldfades]

really don't mind the practice / cause your my little lady / lady, lady, love me, cause I love to lay here lazy / ce could close the curtains, pretend like there's no world outside ─── devin booker¹

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.3k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you and devin spend valentine's day in this year, and it's filled with sweet moments.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | fluffy!

The scent of something sweet and buttery filled the air, seeping in through the cracked bedroom door. It was lazy and warm, curling around the sheets, luring you out of sleep before you were fully ready to open your eyes. The bed still carried the weight of last night—soft, rumpled blankets, Devin’s lingering warmth, the faintest scent of his cologne mixing with the fresh morning air.

Valentine’s Day.

Not that it needed much acknowledgment. Not between you two. There was no rush to make dinner reservations at an overpriced restaurant or scramble for grand gestures. That had never been your thing.

You stretched, slow and content, fingers skimming across the empty space beside you. It wasn’t unusual for Devin to be up before you, but it was unusual for him to be making noise this early. Kitchen noise. You could hear the faint clink of a spatula against a pan, the low murmur of music humming from the speaker—Jack Johnson, of all things.

Your lips curled at the edges.

Devin wasn’t the biggest cook. He had a handful of things he could make, and he rarely strayed from them. If he was in the kitchen, it meant one of two things: he was either really feeling himself or he was up to something. Maybe both.

Yawning, you finally peeled yourself out from under the covers, padding down the hall in your sleep shorts and one of his old shirts, socked feet barely making a sound against the floor. You leaned against the doorway, watching him for a second.

Devin stood at the stove, bare-chested except for the chain glinting at his collarbone, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His back was to you, broad shoulders relaxed, hand lazily flipping something in the pan. You caught sight of a bag of chocolate chips on the counter, a bunch of bananas beside it, and a mixing bowl still half-full of batter.

Your arms crossed over your chest as you smirked. “So, what’s all this?”

Devin didn’t startle, didn’t even turn around, just let out a low chuckle. “Damn. I was hoping to have it ready before you got up.”

“You, making breakfast? On Valentine’s Day? What’s the occasion?” You stepped forward, peering over his shoulder.

“I don’t know.” He finally turned, catching your gaze with that slow, lazy grin that always had a way of getting to you. “Figured we could just… stay in. Take it easy. No plans, no pressure. Just you, me, and some fire banana pancakes.”

You arched a brow. “You sure they’re fire?”

He scoffed. “I had a little taste test. They’re at least four-star quality.”

“Oh, four stars? So, they’re just alright?”

His lips quirked. “I’d say Michelin-worthy, but I didn’t want to gas myself up too much.”

You laughed, shaking your head. It was simple, it was easy—it was exactly the way the two of you worked.

And it was already shaping up to be the best Valentine’s Day yet.

You stepped closer, leaning over the counter to steal a glimpse at the golden pancakes he was flipping with expert ease, his focus a little more intense than you expected. He was always calm, always present, but this morning, there was something different about the way he moved. The rhythm of his actions—steady and methodical—made you pause for a second and admire him in that quiet way you hadn’t done in a while.

The smell was intoxicating—bananas caramelizing ever so slightly, the vanilla from the batter, and a subtle hint of cinnamon. Your stomach growled, and Devin’s eyes flicked up to catch the sound. He raised an eyebrow playfully.

"Did you forget to eat last night?" he teased, his grin widening.

You rolled your eyes, reaching for the bag of chocolate chips he had set out. “Can I help with anything, or are you planning to be all smug about your cooking skills?”

“Oh, I’m definitely planning to be smug,” he said, his voice almost a low hum. “But you can help by grabbing the syrup.”

You reached over to the fridge and pulled out the maple syrup, your hand brushing against the cool bottle as you returned to his side. He hadn’t taken his eyes off you, like he was watching every move you made with that sort of quiet intensity that only made you more aware of your own breath.

“I swear, every time I turn around, you look like you’ve stepped out of a magazine,” he muttered, shaking his head. “How do you do that?”

You smirked, pouring syrup into a small bowl. “I think it’s called ‘not trying.’ You should try it sometime.”

He chuckled but didn’t say anything else. His fingers brushed yours as he passed you a plate, the touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. It wasn’t an accident. Devin had a way of making every simple movement feel purposeful. He always made you feel like you were the only person in the room.

“So, what’s the verdict on the pancakes?” you asked as you slid into the seat at the island, waiting for him to place the plate in front of you. “Are they really as good as you claim?”

His smile widened, full of that quiet pride that had always drawn you to him. There was something about him—his easy confidence, the way he carried himself—that was magnetic. And in moments like this, when it was just the two of you, no one else around, it felt like time slowed down.

“Taste and see, baby,” he said, setting the plate in front of you with a flourish. “Then you can rate them.”

You picked up a fork, cutting into the fluffy stack of pancakes, the syrup pooling around the edges. As the bite hit your tongue, you couldn’t help but grin. He was right. They were definitely more than just “alright.” They were light and airy, just the right amount of sweetness, with pockets of chocolate chips melting into the batter in all the right places. You felt the rush of warmth spread through you—not just from the food but from the simple joy of it all.

“Okay, fine,” you said after swallowing, lifting your hands in mock surrender. “You’re officially a breakfast chef.”

Devin chuckled, taking a seat beside you, and dug into his own stack. The sound of the silverware clinking against the plates, the hum of the soft music playing in the background, and the faint sunlight filtering in through the kitchen window created this cozy, almost nostalgic atmosphere. It wasn’t extravagant—it didn’t need to be. But everything about it felt just right.

“You know, this is kinda perfect,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “No crowds, no fuss. Just us.”

He leaned back too, his elbow brushing against yours as he swiped another bite of pancake from his plate. “I told you. Valentine’s Day doesn’t need to be some big, expensive thing. All we need is right here.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for a second, everything else faded out. His eyes, dark and soft, locked onto yours, and you felt the weight of his gaze as it melted into something more than just appreciation. It was affection, it was comfort, it was a shared moment. The kind of moment that didn’t need words, but felt like everything.

“I think this might be my new favorite tradition,” you said, smiling softly.

“Yeah?” His voice was low, that playful glint back in his eyes. “What’s next? Breakfast in bed every Valentine’s?”

You chuckled, lifting your syrup-drenched pancakes. “You never know. But for now, I’m just gonna enjoy this.”

The rest of breakfast passed in a comfortable silence, the two of you slipping into an easy rhythm. As you cleaned up, Devin grabbed his phone from the counter, pulling up a playlist you both liked, letting the soothing sounds of more Jack Johnson play in the background.

He wandered back into the living room, where the sunlight was just starting to pour in through the windows, casting golden hues across the couch and the coffee table. You followed him, dropping onto the couch with your head on his lap, watching as he scrolled through his phone, probably looking for the next perfect song to set the mood.

“This is nice,” you murmured, your eyes closing as you listened to the soft strumming of the guitar.

“Mm-hmm,” Devin hummed, his fingers running through your hair gently. “It’s all I need, too.”

The next few hours passed like that: easy, undemanding, filled with quiet moments and small smiles. No need for anything grand when the little things meant everything. You didn’t need roses, you didn’t need diamonds—just mornings like this. And with Devin, you knew you’d always have them.

The day continued in its gentle rhythm, unfolding like a well-loved book, its pages turning slowly, each moment a quiet reminder of how simple things could mean so much. By mid-afternoon, the two of you had settled into the kind of comfort that only time together could foster. You sat curled up in the living room, Devin’s arm around your shoulders as you both scrolled through old photos on his phone, laughing at moments you’d forgotten, reminiscing about vacations, late-night talks, the small victories.

It was soft. It was quiet.

And then, as the sun dipped a little lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room, there was a soft knock at the door. It wasn’t unusual for deliveries to show up, but you couldn’t help the way your heart gave a little skip when Devin stood up to answer it.

He opened the door, his voice low and warm as he greeted the delivery driver. You could hear him talking for a moment before the door shut again, and Devin turned back around, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Close your eyes,” he said softly, his hands sliding behind your head to gently guide you upright.

You blinked at him, slightly confused but willing. “What’s this?”

“Just trust me.” He smirked, one of those smiles that was all mystery and sweetness, and you couldn’t say no.

With a slight chuckle, you closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his presence as he moved around you. You heard a soft rustling, followed by the faintest thud as something was set down in front of you. His fingers brushed your cheek, and you felt the cool air shift as he stepped back, the space between you opening up just enough to feel that subtle tension that always hung in the air when he was being secretive.

“Okay. Open.”

You opened your eyes, and for a second, everything else disappeared.

A stunning bouquet of flowers sat in front of you. But it wasn’t just any bouquet. The flowers were a mix of your favorites: peonies, soft pink roses, delicate lilies, and a few pops of bright purple irises scattered throughout. The colors were soft, romantic, and perfect in their disarray. It was as though someone had handpicked each one just for you, like it was meant to be.

You gasped softly, your fingers instinctively reaching out to touch them, feeling the smooth petals, inhaling their sweet fragrance. But what took your breath away more than the flowers themselves was the small envelope attached to the bouquet. It was simple, folded neatly, and held shut with a wax seal.

Devin stepped closer, his eyes soft, watching you as you slowly reached for the note.

“I figured I’d go a little traditional on you,” he said, his voice almost a whisper now, like he was giving you a space to take it all in. “But I think you deserve more than just a bouquet.”

With the note in your hands, you carefully unfolded it. The words were neat, careful, a little hesitant, but unmistakably real.

To my love,

Every day with you is a gift I never take for granted. You make everything easier, better, brighter, just by being you. I know I’m not the best at showing it sometimes, but I want you to know I appreciate every little thing you do for me, every moment you share with me. I’m lucky, and I’ll never forget that. So, today—just like every day—I’m thankful for you.

With all my heart,

D

A lump formed in your throat as you read the last line, the words carrying the weight of everything he’d never said in front of a camera or in front of anyone else. Just for you.

You looked up at him, eyes wide, trying to hold back the emotions that threatened to spill over.

“That was… perfect,” you whispered, and he stepped forward, taking the note from your hand with a smile that was full of softness.

“Yeah? You’re welcome,” he murmured, reaching for your hand. The warmth of his palm engulfed yours, grounding you in that simple, quiet space between the two of you.

The rest of the evening unfolded just as it began—quiet, calm, but filled with an overwhelming sense of warmth. You spent the rest of the night tucked into his side, watching a movie you both already knew by heart, with his hand softly tracing lazy patterns along your arm, a gesture that said more than any grand words ever could.

When it was time for bed, you didn’t rush it. You didn’t rush anything. You stayed tangled up in each other’s warmth, content to just exist in the soft bubble of your shared space.

The note, the flowers—they were beautiful, but it was the way he made you feel, in the soft quiet moments, that really made the day unforgettable. Because, in the end, it wasn’t about the big gestures or the grand displays. It was the small, simple things that made you feel loved.

And, with Devin, those moments felt infinite.

[estell-allary]

A Devine Destiny

Relationship:romantic

Pairing:Clarisse La Rue x fem!Aphrodite!reader

A/N-hey so this is a part 2 to Aphrodite’s bane and this is set a few weeks later after the bathroom scene with Percy,this is a fluff aswell(this was kinda a request but they just asked for a part 2,and I really hope they see this x)

You were taking a night walk to calm yourself down from all the fuss of the new kid..at least that’s what you we’re telling yourself..,Percy Jackson,you were one of the unlucky ones that had to help him find out what he was good at,it did not go well,so now you we’re strolling around camp in your pj pants and sports bra with a small jacket on trying to relax until you saw her.

You and Clarisse have been…talking,kinda.I mean yea you two have been getting closer than before,but your not friends just.. aquanauts per say.Everyone knew something was there I mean there was for Aphrodite and ares aswell but everyone also knew not to bring it in front of you or her.

Anyways, why was she out so late?You wondered and why is she..soaked…?you enquired to yourself before she saw you “why are you out so late?”she said looking at you with a cocked eyebrow “i-i uh..why are you wet?”you said looking her up and down “none of your business.” Yea you guys are definitely not friends.

“Um ok..”you said looking down “you didn’t answer my question.”she said crossing her arms “you know we’re not supposed to be out this late”she said sternly glaring at you “your out to!” You said trying to defend yourself “that’s different,come on”she said and grabbed your arm “where are we going?”you said pulling away from her.

“I’m taking you back to your cabin”she said grabbing your upper arm and yanking you “NO!..please I don’t want to go back there..”you say gripping her forearm to stop her from pulling you “why?” She said her tone questioning but you stayed silent “have they been starting again?!”she yelled angrily,everyone knew that a few girls in the Aphrodite cabin have been starting on you for not being a copy and paste of them.

It started of as teasing,then it went to sly comments of how you acted like the comments a bitchy aunt would say at Christmas,then it went to hair pulling then to saying you don’t belong it the Aphrodite cabin and so on.

“No..yes”Clarisse let out a sigh and started dragging you in the other direction without saying a word,you stayed silent trying not to cry thinking about the cruel words the girls have been calling you

You arrived at cabin 5,ares cabin,her cabin, “w-why are we here..?”you said between small unnoticeable sniffles “why do you think,your staying here tonight”she said while pushing the ares cabin door open and dragging you in there was only a few people down stairs maybe 2 or 3

“Where is everyone..?”you asked Clarisse as she drug you up the stairs with her to avoid her half-brother matty and his knowing gaze on the two of you “I made them stay at training for capture the flag tomorrow” “oh yea I forgot about that..”

There was no one upstairs,just you and Clarisse you thought as she got some clothes out from her chest of draws,you were standing next to her bed looking around trying to make it not awkward,it wasn’t working.

“Take your jacket and shoes off and sit down”she said while eyeing you,you obeyed siting down and slipping your shoes off,she then chucked a dark red band t-shirt at your lap “there,put that on”she told you and went digging in her draws again,trying to find clothes for herself.

When she did she started talking and turned around before pausing “does it fit-…you know when I gave you the shirt and told you to put it on it wasn’t rhetorical,right?”you looked at her for a few seconds before gripping the hem off your jacket and rolling it between your finger tips,you went to speak before shuffling and slipping your hands under your jacket and slowly pulling it off all with Clarisse looking at you.

You pulled the shirt the right way round before slipping it over your head and pulling it over your chest and then all the way on,just in time to see Clarisse look away and move her still dripping hair over her shoulder before speaking “I’m gonna get in the shower and get changed you..”she started before pausing “..you stay here and do what you want,I’ll be like 10 minutes”she stated while walking to a oak door in the corner of the large room.

When Clarisse came out 10 minutes later,her hair still dripping going to do her hair care routine,you were half asleep on the edge of her bed eyes not shut but hooded snuggled up with one of her pillows,she sighed and started to do her curl routine until she heard you mumbling something incoherent until something very clear slipped out of your mouth,

“Your so pretty..”you said cuddling further into her pillow “i-uh..thank I guess” she said focusing back on her hair “your welcome clari..”she huffed out a sigh before starting to speak “what have they even been saying”she started finishing off her hair and walking over to you “what have who been saying..?”you said looking up at her “your half-siblings” she finished

“Oh..nothing much,just pushing me,saying I’m not supposed to be a child of Aphrodite and little sly comments…”you replied “who”she said sternly as you sat up “‘s okay it doesn’t matter” you said trying to avoid her gaze “who”she repeated “clordia,Chelsea and molly..”you said looking up at her tiredly,

She sighed and sat down next to you gently grabbing your shoulder and making you lay down with her “your tired,go to sleep”she said laying your head on her chest.

After she thought you were asleep she kissed you on the side of your mouth “goodnight”she whispered laying her head on top of yours,

Yea definitely not friends.

A/N:hey sorry this is kinda short but it is very fluffy and there so cute together remember to read Aphrodites bane before this but it’s ok on it’s own to also my requests are open wide for your surgestions have a great day/night and bye🤍

[mariacallous]

One of the first questions Kash Patel, President Donald Trump’s pick for FBI director, faced during his Senate Judiciary Committee confirmation hearing on Thursday was whether he was a “follower or promoter of QAnon.”

Patel’s response to committee chairman Senator Chuck Grassley was unequivocal: “I have publicly rejected outright QAnon baseless conspiracy theories or any other baseless conspiracy theories.”

This isn’t true. Patel’s claim that he was not a promoter of QAnon is undermined by years of his very public and overt promotion of the QAnon community.

Patel, along with President Donald Trump, has been one of the main driving forces in keeping the QAnon community alive in the years since messages from the anonymous Q figure stopped being published on fringe message board 8chan. Patel has repeatedly praised the movement on social media platforms like Truth Social, appeared on dozens of podcasts that promote the conspiracy theory, and created an entirely new trend within the movement. He even signed copies of his children’s book with a QAnon catchphrase—though Patel subsequently claimed he used the phrase because of its connection with a movie.

Patel has long been a figure of interest for the QAnon community. He was named in the so-called Q-drops posted to fringe message boards by the eponymous leader of the movement, who claimed to be a government insider seeking to help unmask a deep-state plot against Trump.

“Kashyap Patel - name to remember,” a Q-drop read back in 2018 when Patel was working as a senior committee aide to then House Intelligence Committee chair Devin Nunes.

In 2022, when Patel became a director at the Trump Media & Technology Group, Patel worked to entice the QAnon community to join Truth Social.

“We try to incorporate it into our overall messaging scheme to capture audiences because whoever that person is has certainly captured a widespread breath of the MAGA and the America First movement,” said Patel on a June 2022 episode of the Patriot Party News show. “And so what I try to do is—what I try to do with anything, Q or otherwise, is you can’t ignore that group of people that has such a strong dominant following.”

One of the key parts of that effort was the creation of a @Q account on Truth Social, which was done by the site’s own developers.

“Having a beer with @q right now,” Patel wrote on Truth Social in February 2022, just days after the platform went live. The @Q account responded the following day, saying they were once again with Patel, and asking followers: “Alright anons, where are we kicking it tonight?”

That post included the hashtag #FlannelFridays, which quickly took hold with the QAnon community after Patel promoted it, inspiring new memes and followers who dressed up in flannel. “It’s become this massive thing online,” Patel told Russia disinformation promoter Tim Pool during a podcast interview in 2022.

In 2022, he told pro-Trump influencer Mary Grace: “I agree with what a lot of that movement says." In recent years, Patel has even published his own enemies list of 60 people he claims are “members of the deep state,” a central tenet of QAnon.

Patel also regularly praised the QAnon movement for its “research” skills.

“I’ve seen on Truth Social how good these researchers are, and I kind of wish I’d had some of them when I was doing Russiagate,” Patel said in another podcast with a conspiracy channel. “I talk with the president all the time, and we’re just blown away at the amount of acumen some of these people have.”

When Patel released a series of children’s books in 2022, he posted to Truth Social an image of himself signing copies of one of his books, The Plot Against the King, with the explicitly QAnon-linked hashtag #WWG1WGA, which stands for “where we go one, we go all.” The book features a besieged King Donald and a wise and loyal wizard named Kash, who helps his monarch. In the sequel, The Plot Against the King: 2000 Mules, Patel pushed election-denial conspiracies.

Patel has not limited his promotion and endorsement of Q to Truth Social. Since January 2021, Patel has appeared on “at least 53 episodes of 13 podcasts that have overtly promoted the QAnon movement and/or shared QAnon-related conspiracy theories,” according to an analysis conducted for WIRED by researchers at Advance Democracy, a nonprofit organization that conducts public interest research.

One of the podcasts Patel appeared on most regularly was the Stew Peters Show, hosted by Peters, an antisemitic antivaxxer.

When asked by Senator Dick Durbin during the hearing on Thursday if he was aware of Stew Peters, Patel said: “Not off the top of my head.” Durbin reminded Patel: “You made eight separate appearances on his podcast.”

Addressing the conversation on his show later on Thursday, Peters said: “Clearly, Kash Patel is lying. He absolutely does know who I am.”

Patel’s rapid rise within the US government and potential ascension to the role of FBI director was viewed among QAnon adherents as the moment they had all been waiting for, when the deep state would finally be unmasked, enemies rounded up and arrested, and public executions carried out.

Rather than seeing Patel’s disavowal of QAnon as a betrayal, a review of posts on platforms like Truth Social, Telegram, Gab, 4chan, TikTok, and X show people on QAnon message boards defending his comments and praising his performance.

“THERE IS NO QANON, SO KASH TOLD THE TRUTH!!” one QAnon influencer posted on Telegram, referencing the false claim within the movement that the term QAnon is simply a construction of the mainstream media.

“He basically said they are not conspiracies but rather the truth, love it.” a follower responded.

[aingeal98]

for people who want tos tart reading comics about cass what would you recommend

Excellent question! If I had to recommend only one comic it would be her Batgirl 2000 run. It's very easy to follow as a narrative and contains the most Batgirl Batgirl to ever Batgirl. So if you just want one place to start, that would be my recommendation. In terms of how to read the comics you can buy them online or in local comic book shops, and if you can't afford them or aren't sure you're committed yet then you can also read them online by typing the comic name and "read online" and then using one of the sites that pops up.

HOWEVER: If you're someone who likes to start from the very beginning, I'd recommend her debut appearance which happened during the No Man's Land arc in 1999. You definitely don't need to read all of No Man's Land just for Cass, since it's a huge batfamily comic. You just need to know that Gotham has been cut off from society and works as a lawless gang run wasteland essentially. Cass first appears in Batman 567 and then in Detective Comics 734, a two part introduction story. She then becomes Batgirl in Legends of the Dark Knight 120, and appears in a bunch of other batfam comics during No Man's Land, which can be read in collected editions (part 2 and 3 usually) OR I can just be insane and list every single comic she appears in chronological order before you reach the first issue of Batgirl, just in case you want to get the full context of what this world is like:

Azrael, agent of the bat 56, Denny O'Neil

Azrael 57, Denny O'Neil

Batman 569, Janet Harvey

Catwoman 72, John Ostrander

Robin 70, Chuck Dixon 

Batman Chronicles 18, Devin Grayson. 

Legends of the Dark Knight 124, Chuck Dixon

Robin 71, mentioned, Chuck Dixon

Detective Comics 738, Chuck Dixon

Shadow of the Bat 92, Devin Grayson

Detective Comics 739, Greg Rucka

Shadow of the Bat 93, Greg Rucka

Robin 73, Chuck Dixon

Azrael 60, Denny O'Neil

Azrael 61, Denny O'Neil

Detective Comics 741, Greg Rucka

(Gotham City Secret Files and Origins #1, multiple writers: Scott Beatty 

Night Games, Scott Peterson & Kelley Puckett) Note: The brackets here are to show what part of these big guides she appears in. So in this case she appears in the character descriptions and also in the story Night Games, both found in this comic.

(Batman No Man’s Land Secret Files and Origins #1, Multiple writers: Jordan Gorfinkel, Kelley Puckett 

No man's land animated, Scott Peterson)

Gotham Knights 1, Devin Grayson

Gotham Knights 2, Devin Grayson

(Guide to the DC Universe 2000 Secret Files and Origins 1, Scott Beatty:

Here and Now, Dan Abnett & Andy Lanning

Timeline, Robert Greenberg & Phil Jimenez)

Batman Outlaws 1, Doug Moench

Batman Outlaws 2, Doug Moench

Batman Outlaws 3, Doug Moench

Ghost/Batgirl 1, Mike Kennedy

Ghost/Batgirl 2, Mike Kennedy

Ghost/Batgirl 3, Mike Kennedy

Ghost/Batgirl 4, Mike Kennedy

[warningsine]

Fifty years on, the wounds left in Chilean society by the coup of 11 September 1973 are still very much open. Justice is a long way from being served, secrets remain untold, and the bodies of many of the victims are yet to be found.

Last Wednesday, the government announced a new national initiative to find the remains of 1,162 Chileans who vanished under the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet and remain unaccounted for. In most cases, the best their families can hope for are fragments or traces of DNA.

After ousting a democratically elected socialist, Salvador Allende, Pinochet rounded up opponents, social activists and students in Santiago’s national stadium and other makeshift detention centres, where nearly 30,000 were tortured and more than 2,200 were executed.

Allende’s body was pulled out of the bombed wreckage of the presidential palace, La Moneda. He is generally thought to have killed himself rather than be captured by soldiers loyal to Pinochet, the armed forces commander he had appointed a few weeks earlier.

Almost 1,500 others simply disappeared, and since the end of the junta in 1990, only 307 have been identified and their remains returned to their families. Anticipating the reckoning to come, Pinochet had ordered the bodies of the executed to be dug up and dumped at sea, or into the crater of a volcano. Investigators now hope that modern technology might help pinpoint massacre and temporary burial sites that might still yield vestiges of the dead.

Ariel Dorfman had been working as a cultural and press adviser in La Moneda, and was lucky to survive. Most of Allende’s staff were executed in the first days after the coup.

“This was a tragedy for Chile, for Latin America and for the world, because we were trying to open a way to a more just, radical society without violence,” Dorfman, a novelist, playwright and academic, told the Observer.

Trials are under way in a last-gasp effort at accountability before the perpetrators die of old age. On Monday, seven former soldiers aged between 73 and 85 were finally jailed after the criminal chamber of the Chilean supreme court upheld their convictions for the murder of Victor Jara, a celebrated folk singer and Allende supporter who was tortured and then shot 44 times.

Many of the details of the 1973 coup and the ensuing dictatorship remain unknown. Pinochet and the junta were efficient when it came to destroying evidence and the US has been grudging in declassifying its own records, which have emerged in a dribble over the years. Under pressure from Chile’s current president, Gabriel Boric – a 37-year-old former student activist – and from progressive Washington Democrats such as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, the US has declassified two new documents: presidential intelligence briefings given to Richard Nixon on the day of the coup and three days earlier.

It was hard to understand why they had been withheld for so long. They confirmed what had already been generally established: that the CIA had not directly stage-managed the 11 September coup. The presidential daily brief for 8 September contains reports of a plot by naval officers, but adds: “There is no evidence of a tri-service coup plan.”

“Should hotheads in the navy act in the belief they will automatically receive support from the other services, they could find themselves isolated,” the intelligence briefer told Nixon.

Even on the day of the coup itself, Nixon was told that, although some army units appeared to have joined the effort, “they may still lack an effectively coordinated plan that would capitalise on the widespread civilian opposition”.

Jack Devine, who was serving as a CIA clandestine officer in Chile in 1973, was eating lunch in an Italian restaurant in Santiago on 9 September when he got a message to call home. It was his wife, who told him a coup was coming.

One of Devine’s sources, a businessman and former naval officer, was leaving the country and had been unable to find the CIA man, so had gone to his house and told Mrs Devine to pass on his tipoff: “The military has decided to move. It is going to happen on September 11.”

Devine told the Observer: “That is the first clear sign that a coup was coming, just a couple of days ahead of time. We were caught by surprise. That’s the first evidence that something was coming. And many of the people still didn’t believe it in Washington and the CIA.”

There is no question, however, that the US had helped set the stage for the military takeover. From the time of Allende’s election on 4 September 1970 at the head of the Popular Unity alliance, the White House, led by Nixon’s national security adviser, Henry Kissinger, began plotting to get rid of him.

The CIA planned a putsch the following month, before Allende could even hold his inauguration. US spies found willing officers and supplied them with guns, cash and guarantees of US support for a military government. The plot led to the murder of the commander-in-chief, René Schneider, who had stood by the incoming president, but it fell short of toppling Allende when plotters in the military pulled out.

In a telephone conversation on 23 October, Kissinger told Nixon that there had been “a turn for the worse”.

“The next move should have been a government takeover, but that hasn’t happened,” he said, describing the Chilean military as “a pretty incompetent bunch”.

“They’re out of practice,” Nixon replied.

After the failure of the 1970 coup, Devine said, “Nixon sent out specific instructions to the CIA that there be no more coup plotting.” The US administration focused instead on undermining the Allende government, which had been elected by a slender margin and was facing substantial internal opposition. Washington coordinated with its allies in Latin America to block Chile’s access to international finance, persuaded US companies to leave Chile, manipulated the global price of copper, Chile’s principal export, and helped foment strikes within the country.

The Nixon administration was also quick to throw its support behind the junta. When shocked US diplomats sent reports of the slaughter that had followed the coup, Kissinger told his aides: “I think we should understand our policy – that however unpleasant they act, this government is better for us than Allende was.”

Pinochet found another powerful friend on the world stage when Margaret Thatcher was elected in Britain in 1979. She restored Chile’s export credits and dropped an arms embargo on the regime, selling it jet fighters and training its troops.

A succession of Tory ministers visited Chile, admiring the high economic growth rate and the wholehearted adoption of the absolutist monetary policy extolled by Milton Friedman at the University of Chicago. A group of Chilean economists who had studied there, known as the Chicago Boys, took top positions in Pinochet’s government, and the country became a test case for the policies of privatisation, deregulation and tight control of the money supply. Complicating social factors, such as trade unions and popular resistance, had been taken out of the picture.

“The Chilean coup was a triumph of the anti-communist movement in the United States and Latin America. You can’t get around the fact that it led to the defeat of democratic and progressive governments all over the region,” said John Dinges, who lived through the violent early years of the Pinochet era as one of the few US journalists to remain in the country after the coup.

“There was a youth-oriented revolutionary movement, which was sometimes quite extreme, advocating armed struggle, and that was also physically eliminated. So the violence was successful,” Dinges, the author of two books on the Pinochet regime, said. “More than 80% of the population of Latin America was under rightwing military dictatorships by the end of 1976.”

The Pinochet regime coordinated with fellow military-run governments in Argentina, Uruguay, Paraguay, Bolivia and Brazil to eliminate leftwingers and social activists in Operation Condor, a concerted slaughter across the region. It had US support, in the form of technical support, training and military aid, through the Ford, Carter and Reagan administrations, all in the name of fighting communism.

The coup’s lasting legacy around the world has been defined mostly by the international backlash to its shocking cruelty. It galvanised the human rights movement in Europe and the US. In Washington, the US’s involvement shocked politicians such as Senator Frank Church, who oversaw the first congressional hearings on the CIA’s covert activities which ultimately led to constraints on its future operations.

The martyrdom of Allende and his experiment in democratic socialism inspired a generation of leftwing political activists around the world.

The record of the Allende government is complicated. The Popular Unity alliance never commanded a parliamentary majority and was deeply split. Rapid nationalisation and blanket pay rises for workers brought with them mismanagement of state enterprises and hyperinflation. But because it was violently cut short, many different myths grew up around what might have been.

“It became like a Chilean mirror. People read into Chile what they wanted to see,” said Tanya Harmer, associate professor in Latin American international history at the London School of Economics.

“Across the world, the diverse groups on the left learned the lessons they wanted to learn from the coup. Social democrats viewed it as constitutional democracy overthrown, so it was about the rule of law. The more radical left read it as evidence that you could never have a revolution without an armed struggle.”

Dorfman argues the Allende government and its destruction changed the course of progressive politics. “There were lessons to be learned and they have endured: the need for vast coalitions to effect that structural change, and the way in which Chile’s suffering created a consciousness about human rights violations,” said Dorfman, who has written an assessment of the Allende legacy in the New York Review of Books, and a novel about Allende’s death, The Suicide Museum.

Inside Chile, the coup’s legacy is still being fought over. A recent Mori poll found only 42% of Chileans thought it had destroyed democracy, compared with 36% who said it had saved the country from Marxism.

Peter Kornbluh, a senior analyst at the National Security Archive in Washington, who has led the pressure on the US government to declassify its documents on the coup, warned that denialism about the atrocities of the Pinochet era was strengthening, along with the rise of the far right.

“It is a Rosetta Stone for the discussion over the threat of authoritarianism versus the sanctity of democracy,” said Kornbluh, who is the author of a book based on the documents declassified so far, The Pinochet File. “And Chile is having that debate about its past because it’s dealing with this threat right now – and a number of other countries including the US, and countries in Europe, are facing the same issue.

“The coup in Chile was really the repression of a lot of hopes and dreams around the world, and I think that dynamic still resonates and is still relevant today.”

[justinspoliticalcorner]

S.V. Dáte at HuffPost:

WASHINGTON ― President Donald Trump’s pick to lead the FBI tried to downplay his history of backing pro-Trump conspiracy theories ― including the outlandish claim that the FBI had incited the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the Capitol ― and his support for violent domestic terrorists who assaulted police officers that day as he appeared before a Senate panel Thursday. Kash Patel, if confirmed, would bring to the office a 60-name enemies list of Trump’s critics — a scenario unheard of at the nation’s top law enforcement agency since reforms made in the 1970s following the abuses of power committed by its founding director, J. Edgar Hoover. Patel on Thursday claimed that his list of “deep state” enemies — published as an appendix in a 2023 book with the caution that it was not “exhaustive” — was not an enemies list at all. Asked repeatedly if he intended to investigate those named in his book — many of whom are Republicans who broke from or did not show total loyalty to Trump — Patel never answered directly. “I have no plans in going backwards,” Patel said multiple times. Patel’s efforts to back away from his recent past resulted in a number of extraordinary exchanges with Democrats on the Senate Judiciary Committee, particularly around his key role in glorifying violent Trump followers who assaulted police officers in his name in 2021.

Sen. Dick Durbin, the Democratic ranking member of the committee from Illinois, asked Patel about a “Justice for All” recording that featured inmates of the District of Columbia jail in March 2023. Seventeen of the 20 behind bars on the day of the recording were charged with assaulting police officers, with some already having been convicted. “My understanding is that the performers on this ‘J6 Choir’ were the rioters who are in prison,” Durbin said. “I’m not aware of that, sir,” Patel responded. Durbin followed up, “You weren’t aware of who was on the record?” Patel answered, “No, senator.” California Democrat Sen. Adam Schiff later returned to the issue, asking if Patel truly did not know anything about the recording, then why did he tell longtime Trump ally Steve Bannon that “we went to a studio and recorded it, mastered it, digitized it and put it out as a song”? [...]

Patel, 44, began his career as a public defender but became a hero in the pro-Trump world as an aide to Devin Nunes, the former California congressman who in 2017 was the Republican chair of the House Intelligence Committee. Patel wrote a report seeking to discredit the FBI and special counsel Robert Mueller’s investigation into the Russian assistance Trump received in helping him win the 2016 presidential election. He subsequently moved to the Trump White House and worked as a staffer for the National Security Council, where he was known to seek face time with Trump whenever possible. Trump in the final months of his first term installed Patel as deputy to the director of national intelligence, and in the final weeks tried to place Patel as CIA Director Gina Haspel’s deputy as part of his machinations to overturn the 2020 election he had just lost. He backed down when Haspel reportedly threatened to resign in protest. Patel finished Trump’s term as chief of staff at the Defense Department, where he famously was said to have supported investigating an absurd claim that votes in the 2020 election had been flipped from Trump to Democrat Joe Biden using Italian satellites. Patel spent the four years between Trump’s terms participating in the pro-Trump movement’s grift machine, cashing in on appearances and merchandise to exploit the demand for all things Trump. He produced a podcast for The Epoch Times, a news site known for promoting conspiracy theories. He traveled the country for revival-style meetings of believers in QAnon, a fringe movement that sees Trump as a messianic figure destined to rid the government of those who secretly murder children to drink their blood. He marketed clothing and accessories with his “K$H” logo, peddling them at conservative gatherings. He published a series of children’s books featuring “King Donald” and casting himself as a wizard who foils plots against him by villains including “Hillary Queenton” and “Comma-la-la-la.” He even helped market pills that claim — with zero evidence of efficacy — to undo the effects of COVID-19 vaccines. “Spike the Vax, order this homerun kit to rid your body of the harms of the vax,” Patel wrote in a social media post, linking to a “Warrior Essentials” website.

On Thursday in front of the Senate Judiciary Committee, potential FBI director Kash Patel tried to unwind his 4+ years of support for right-wing conspiracy theories and the J6 Choir. Patel is unfit to lead the FBI.

See Also:

Living It With Olivia Troye: Unfit for Duty: The Grave National Security Risk of Kash Patel Leading the FBI

[tempural]

SCUMSUCK's wishlist.

first posted on fedi for the snowflake challenge #7, then edited to my site...

Non-tangible items:

I am a hungry hungry buttslut for art, fic, and other creations with my characters. 🙏🥺 Here's a gallery with some stuff I've gotten.

I am a hungry hungry anal masochist for comments 😼 I think the sorta comment I'd like right now is a quote I can put in the work description, like "This shit made me watch wrestling and now I'm gay" - t. John Cena.

I am very demure and modest when it comes to anon messages 💅 One of the things I miss most about the cesspool of tumblr, is getting enough questions about my silly scoutspy characterizations to create, well, my own characters out of them! Anons that stroke my shaft are a great way to get me to churn my brain and make something creative like the 300 scsp doodles or 500 headcanon posts of 2018, as opposed to sending me something blunt like "draw linguini's feet".

Forbidden fourth wish: I wish that one day someone could find scans of that YinYang monster x Vincent Valentine FF7 doujinshi that was my favorite as a wee lad! It was called "Meteo Daiou" by New Technical Punk-FF (Isuzu Suzuki). The last evidence of its existence is on this archived Sodasexy page. My life is a repeating circle. Even the scanner says this is GROSS and put it in their squick section. But Maggie age 8 liked it a little too much! Goth dude getting somno-bung by a hungry monster informed the rest of my yaoi career.

Physical items:

I like usable items that leave little waste.

Bar soap in natural, mild flavors. I got that dang eczema and anything that's too fragrant will turn me into the stay puft marshamallow man.

Books! I tend towards nonfiction, biographies, and art + photography books. Right now I'm looking at Devin Townsend's biographies...

Small pieces of usable art from indie artists, like paper stickers and washi tape! I like to put them on my sketchbooks to tell them apart.

A Brock Lesnar #69 football jersey.

Looseleaf tea! I like to try all sorts of new flavors. I can't do floral mixes, but I do like black, green, red, and white tea.

A good metal fountain pen! I've found a couple of brush pens I like. I guess it's time for me to get into stiffer tips.

Some drawing/writing ink! I like to try all sorts of new colors, especially for lineart and ink washes.

A shed or trailer to store our art.

A screen printing room and set-up that is safe from the weather and cats stepping everywhere.

A pigment printer so I can make even more vibrant stickers and art reproductions! I guess I've heard good things about Epson Ecotanks and the Canon Pixma Pro-200/300/400 lines.

An upgraded computer that can load 40 chunks in minecraft's view distance, and use big digital brushes without lagging.

I guess some big ol' terabytes of hard drives to archive my work.

More materials for our fence (wood pallets, metal fences...)

[boymanmaletheshequel]

8 Stones for Aphrodite 🌹

• Morganite

Pink like a juicy peach, morganite is the Lover of the Beryl family, a trait it shares closely with a certain goddess. A stone of divine love and sensuality, like the bosom of lady Aphrodite herself, morganite connects our human love to her own. It is also a stone that is said to heal heartbreak, and with Aphrodite being the medic wielding it, there’s no heartbreak you can’t overcome and learn from 💕

• Sugilite

This rare, strikingly purple manganese mineral is like the crystal equivalent of pure heroin, the drug, and also the woman, of whom this list is about. Sugilite is considered by many crystal witches and experienced metaphysicians to be one of the most powerful love stones, and any love goddess would be honored to be gifted a piece!

• Rose Quartz

Surprise surprise, if you didn’t think the ultimate stone of love and hearing wouldn’t be here, you are sorely mistaken! Roses are already a sacred symbol of Aphrodite and her cult, but rose Quartz takes it a step further with its metaphysical properties, and it’s stunning pink hues! It’s also affordable, and prevalent, so you don’t need to break the bank to worship her with it, she wouldn’t want that for you <3

• Vanadinite

Although more intrinsically connected to Freya, MY personal love goddess, Aphrodite is a soul sister to her, so it only makes sense that the apple wouldn’t fall far from the tree. Vanadinite is a stone of pleasure, an element of Aphrodite that is as alluring as it is empowering, and what better way to connect with her, and that part of both of you, than with a piece of vanadinite?

• Rhodonite

One quality of Aphrodite that I admire in particular, is the facet of her that is self love! Aphrodite understands that you can’t love anything else if you don’t first honor yourself, and your own beauty! Many depictions of Aphrodite found in archeological sites in Greece had fat rolls, something that the toxic gaze of ignorant men of todays society see as repulsive and unhealthy, but they’re wrong. Aphrodite, the literal EMBODIMENT of beauty, was in fact a plus size supermodel! Rhodonite is about loving yourself and who you are, and so is Aphrodite. Honor yourself, and consider getting a piece of rhodonite, if not for her, for yourself. You deserve it <3

• Rhodochrosite

To me, there is no stone quite as Aphrodite coded as rhodochrosite. Wether in its gemstone form with its spiky red crystals, or as a lapidary material with its wavy pink ribbons, rhodochrosite is cunty, and so is Aphrodite. It’s a stone of compassion, urging you to have love for others as well as yourself, something Aphrodite naturally gives to you.

• Pink garnet

Also called roselite, pink garnets are like pieces of candy, delicate and intimate, and oh so sweet! Garnets get their name from pomegranate, a fruit that is steeped in tales of seduction and lust in Greek mythology, making it the perfect representation for lady aphrodites more carnal facets of herself!

• Pezzottaite

Finally, we have by far the rarest gem on this list, but one I feel encompasses the Devine and valuable love of lady Aphrodite, pezzottaite! A type of beryl only recently discovered in Madagascar around 2002, it is a precious, raspberry pink stone. Few people get to work with it, but I am one of them, and I can say, this stone EXUDES love! it helps me to connect with the intricate feelings of love and the complicated emotions that come with it, yet also helps me to understand them. If you can afford it, and if you want to, I recommend searching for a piece, because it really is a stone of love that feels just like Aphrodite ❤️

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

I know you aphrodisiacs are CRAZY loyal to your love goddess, so tell Me, what stones or offerings do you use to connect to her? I may worship another love goddess, but Aphrodite is a fine woman indeed, and her followers are some of the coolest people I know! <3

[mayakern]

I just have to say, I love how fast you work to get new products in. Whenever I see a new design show up, I usually think "well its probably going to be a long wait for that" and I'm surprised when I check back a short while later to see it's already on the site and already sold out 😂

LOL well part of this is because we only take product photos, at most, 1-2 weeks before they hit the store. the actual art was made weeks earlier

here’s how a production cycle goes:

a new design is made by me or a collab artist

it gets put into the production schedule, usually in the next available production batch unless that’s already filled. very rarely that means it goes into production that week, but usually it takes 2-4 weeks before it goes to print

we send the files to the factory to do test prints, which they then mail to us for approval

prints are approved or rejected. the designs that are approved go into production immediately, while the ones that need tweaking get revised and are moved to the end of the print queue

the production cycle itself usually takes 8-12 weeks

we get an estimated shipping date so we know which week the skirts will arrive and we pick a tentative launch day

we get the skirts in our office

we take photos and videos within a week of receiving the products. ariel and i usually shoot separately, but in a pinch we can shoot on the same day and can even direct each other in shoots (this is what happened in the most recent shoot)

once photo shoots are scheduled we 100% finalize our product launch day

ash gets me 1 edited photo of each design within 1-2 days of each shoot. i start posting to socials and the newsletter with proper photos instead of mockups

ash does some post processing on the videos, basically just runs them thru some premiere presets and gets them back to me in 2ish days so i can start drafting up tiktoks

ash gets the rest of the photos edited within a week. sometimes i get them a few days before launch, sometimes i get them literally the night before

devin or ash makes the new product listings once we have all the photos. i add photos, product tags, double check the URLs, etc. ash or devin adds inventory and we make the listings visible with a countdown timer for launch. this is usually doable 1-2 days before launch but sometimes happens the night before.

the skirts go live in the store

[simsstuph]

LouAnn: It's a beautiful night, the most perfect breeze in the air.

June: It's a bit chilly, but that's to be expected this time of year.

LouAnn: Would you like to get a sweater before we get further from the house dear?

June shrugged: It's okay, I'll be just fine once the blood starts flowing.

Mama smiled gently and cleared her throat slightly.

LouAnn: Darling, you know how your father has been working long days and waiting for that big promotion to come in?

June smiled: It's hard to miss when all he seems to talk about is work lately mama.

LouAnn: Well, dear, it's finally happened. Daddy is over the moon about it. It's a big pay raise and well, a big move as well.

I felt my heart skip a gear into over drive: Big move?

LouAnn stopped walking: The company wants him to manage their new site out in the suburbs. I know it sounds rather alarming, but he believes this is what's best for our family.

June: Which suburbs mama? How far are we talking?

LouAnn: Well, my dearest, it'll be just an hour drive away, on the outskirts of the city. There's a great school there and we'll have a big old yard, we can start that garden we've always talked about. It'll be devine!

June pouted: An hour drive?! My school here is just fine.. My friends are here. I don't want to move mama--

LouAnn: Now, June we have to be considerate of how hard your father has worked for all of this. How much this all means to him.

I took a deep breath and clasped my hands together: Yes ma'am.

LouAnn kissed June cheek quickly, you could see her eyes were beginning to pool with tears: You take a moment for yourself, I'm going to go take my evening shower. Come inside by the time the street lights go on.

[msclaritea]

"Hollywood Ladies & Gentlemen

Adrenochrome 🚫

Cannibalism 🚫

Satanism 🚫

Salma Hayek is married to François-Henri Pinault. The CEO of Kering. The parent company to Balenciaga. The same man responsible for the BDSM children's toys. Who owns an auction site selling ch¡ld s*x mannequins with erect penises, vaginas, and anuses instead of mouths or noses. God knows what Luciferian activities he is involved in.

But keep in mind that Balenciaga's creative director (Demna) resided in Ukraine who became the ambassador of the United24 fundraising platform started by Volodymyr Zelenskyy. Demna also worked very closely with Rachel Chandler. Do you all see how everything is connected? All goes back to child trafficking.

Salma Hayek said she didn't sign a prenuptial agreed with her husband. Why? My guess is that this S. Hayek was his reward or his play toy. As none of those men at that level are dating Hollywood women because they love them truly, madly, and deeply and all the other corny stuff. Because it's a given for them.

Ask Bobby Valentino. He told a former security guard for P. Diddy that he is not even attracted to natural women anymore. Because he could get them so easily that it just became a redundant thing for him. So he now prefer trannies. That is why he was caught with one multiple times years ago.

People the goal of Hollywood is to get you to follow everything that is against God. Everything that is natural. Everything that makes you human. This is why celebrities go out of their way to get you to convert over into doing things that are the opposite of what the Bible teaches. Do you remember that article by 'Wired' published in Oct 2017?

What's Wrong With Eating People?

That was the title of the article. You do not even know you are being groomed to indulge in Satanism. They want you to go against everything God created. Everything that is natural. Everything that makes you devine. This is why you have comedians like Bob Saget joking about P•d•phili♤. This is why Stephen Colbert was promoting Eating insects.

This is why Kim Kardashian said she would do anything to retain her stardom and she would eat fecal matter to do it. This is why celebrities like Mila Kunis said she only bathes her children when she sees dirt on them. America Ferrera said she likes going for days without showering. People they are trying to normalize the detestable." Ariel, Twitter

Salma Hayek as Satanic Pandemonium in From Dusk Til Dawn.

[mariacallous]

Far-right extremists have spent the past week harassing and threatening migrants on the United States border with Mexico while making money by livestreaming it on YouTube and Rumble.

“Anybody in there,” said Dennis Yarbery, one of the YouTubers, as he approached a migrant camp at night in Jacumba Hot Springs, California, near the border last week. Yarbery was livestreaming to thousands of people. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”

Yarbery is one of three men who split off from the Take Our Border Back convoy in Texas and, according to their livestreams, spent days driving along the border in Arizona and California to harass migrants and volunteers with nonprofit groups.

“We’re illegal hunters,” Yarbery told a store clerk while livestreaming at a Subway sandwich counter in Jacumba Hot Springs. “I’ve hunted a lot in my life, but I’ve never actually hunted people, and that’s what we’re doing now.”

Yarbery, who is known online as both MasterGrifter and Big D and says he joined the People’s Convoy, a group that protested Covid lockdown measures and disrupted traffic, in 2022, was joined by Josh Fulfer, known as OreoExpress, and Joe Felix, known as Taco Joe, who runs 1st Responders Media, an outlet focused on livestreaming far-right events.

Throughout the hours-long broadcasts from the border in Arizona and California, these livestreamers regularly asked for donations from their supporters, which they claimed was being used to continue their work “covering” the crisis.

Even while in the middle of harassing the migrants, the livestreamers could still be heard thanking those who were sending them money via YouTube’s Super Chat function or through other platforms like Venmo and the Christian-aligned crowdfunding site GiveSendGo. In one situation, while Fulfer was shouting at migrants in Arizona telling them to go home, he stopped briefly to call out a supporter who had sent him $50 on Venmo.

These livestreamers come after weeks of inflamed rhetoric from both the far-right community and Republican lawmakers about immigration at the Texas border with Mexico. This year, the situation has erupted: After Texas governor Greg Abbott refused to heed the Biden administration’s calls to remove razor wire along the border, a dozen GOP governors publicly declared support for Abbott, and the Take Our Border Back convoy traveled from Virginia to Texas. Though the convoy petered out, the violent anti-immigrant rhetoric, which experts have warned would have long-term impacts, has only heightened.

“The post-convoy terror campaign against immigrants at the border follows an all-too-familiar pattern we’ve tracked for the past couple of decades,” Devin Burghart, the executive director at the Institute for Research and Education on Human Rights, tells WIRED. “Public bragging about ‘hunting people’ is a descent into a dangerous new low for armed vigilantes. Left unchecked, armed far-right vigilantes will spill more blood.”

After the livestreamers left Texas, they went to Sasabe in Arizona and a migrant camp run by No More Deaths, a humanitarian organization that provides support for migrants crossing the border.

During an hours-long livestream at night, Yarbery, Fulfer, and Felix all shouted at the migrants and accused them of human trafficking. Yarbery even tried to sell cigarettes to the migrants for $20 each. At one point, Fulfer threatened violence against a migrant who was shining a torch at their cameras.

The trio also verbally attacked a volunteer who worked with the organization, following her around as she phoned for help from US Border Patrol, according to livestreams of the incident viewed by WIRED before they were taken offline.

Yarbery, Felix, and Fulfer didn’t respond to WIRED’s requests for comment about their actions at the border.

Laurie Cantillo, a board member from Humane Borders, says the organization, which maintains water stations along migrant routes near the border, is aware of the allegations of harassment. “We have noticed an increase in vandalism of our permitted water stations along the border,” Cantillo tells WIRED. “Our 55-gallon barrels have been shot, stabbed, drained, and stolen. It’s a sad state of affairs when someone sabotages water that can save a human life.”

US Border Patrol and No More Deaths did not respond to multiple requests for comment about the incident. One former volunteer with No More Deaths, who did not want to be identified due to safety concerns, told WIRED that they were not surprised no one replied, as the organization “may not want to draw extra attention to this event.”

After departing Arizona, the trio of livestreamers headed to California, where they continued to try and track down migrant camps. On several days their searches were fruitless, though they continued to broadcast and solicit donations through YouTube.

After Fulfer and Felix departed, Yarbery continued to “hunt,” as he called it, and during one broadcast over the weekend, he livestreamed with his partner and their baby while driving toward the border in Jacumba Hot Springs.

While there, Yarbery met with locals to discuss the migrant situation, and in one conversation a man could be heard on the livestream saying, “I say we shoot ’em all,” before Yarbery told him to be quiet as he was broadcasting live on YouTube.

YouTube told WIRED that it terminated Fulfer and Felix’s accounts after WIRED asked about the livestreamers, but it did not take action on Yarbery’s account. All of Yarbery’s videos, YouTube said, were set to private by the account holder. Yarbery has also created a backup channel, and told his followers in a YouTube chat where they could continue to follow him on the platform.

For years, extremism experts have been tracking how violent rhetoric around the border and migrants has led directly to violence, dating back to the 2000s when fear-mongering attacks on immigrants led to the mobilization of far-right paramilitary groups, one of which brutally murdered Raul Flores and his 9-year-old daughter Brisenia.

“Sadly, this cycle of violence has become so common that it tends to go unnoticed outside of the communities targeted by far-right vigilantes,” Burghart said. “This time around, the Black Mirror-like difference is that tech advances now allow [people like Yarbery, Fulfer, and Felix] to stream and monetize their cruelty to a far-right fanbase that craves more.”

[isfjmel-phleg]

Highlights of a February 1999 interview with Karl Kesel

Found here, where there are a lot of other interviews with comic writers from around this time, although not all of the links are functional. This is apparently a fan site from the late 90s/early 2000s, and I'm definitely going to dig around on it more when I have the chance.

At the time of this inteview, Kesel (Kon's co-creator) had recently returned to writing Superboy 1994, and Young Justice 1998 was still in its early issues.

Kesel was asked his thoughts on the young heroes of the DCU. Robin: "Great character. Chuck Dixon has really brought him into his own. I'd really like to see a close friendship develop between him and Superboy." Impulse: "One of Waid's many wonderful inspirations. All-out fun." Damage: "Another character with great potential. Should be interesting to see what Devin [Grayson] does with him in Titans. He'll also appear in Superboy 65." Secret, Wonder Girl, and Arrowette: "Peter [David]'s doing great stuff with these characters and their inter-actions. I'd like to reflect some of it in Superboy's own book, whenever possible."

Regarding why young heroes were becoming popular: "Two simple words: Reader Identification. No one wants to have to grow up to become Batman or Superman— they want to be a hero right now! Plus, the problems these heroes have are in many cases the same sort of problems the readers face. And since they're younger, they're automatically underdogs— and America loves to root for the underdog! (At least, I know I do!)"

Kon's favorite color: "The primaries— Red, yellow and blue, of course!" (This is, of course, reflected in his civilian wardrobe.)

Kon's taste in music: "Alternative, definitely. Garbage, Hole, Barenaked Ladies, etc. Hates Top 40, mostly. (Not unlike myself, oddly enough)." (I love that not only do we know what he likes, it's very clear what he dislikes as well, which adds realism to the character.)

"He loves adventure, having a good time, also loves being a hero, saving the day, basking in the spotlight. He is a total wish-fulfillment character— hopefully, he leads the sort of life and has the sort of adventures most of the readers would like to have." (...never mind all the exploitation, grooming, and abuse that have had such prevalence in Kon's life that he believes they're normal.)

Regarding the change in direction of Superboy 1994 (in which Kon leaves Hawaii and starts working for Project Cadmus): "Tom [Grummett] and I left Superboy because we couldn't find a direction to take the book in that was unique and felt right. Our mistake the first time around was to treat Superboy like any other teen-hero book. The result was -- it was like any other teen-hero book! I think Ron Marz found the same sort of problem with the character. There was something about the approach that just wasn't clicking, as interesting as all the pieces were. After hearing Ron was thinking of leaving the book, I literally woke up in the middle of the night with the "Last Boy on Earth" story and a completely new approach to the book fully formed in my head! The high concept was pretty simple: Jack Kirby does Johnny Quest! I quickly called Tom, asking if he would be interested in going back to the book with me. Thank God, he was! As our editor, Mike McAvennie, said— the new approach felt like what should have been done with the book from the beginning. Couldn't agree more." (Beginning the series with Kon working for Cadmus would have been an interesting choice, especially with Westfield, whom he was cloned from, still being alive then. I don't know if it would have made sense for the character at that time, though. Kon is pretty ticked at Cadmus for very legitimate reasons in the aftermath of Superman's return, and his going off on his own after learning the truth of his origin was a logical choice given where he was at emotionally, even if it did lead to another kind of exploitation.)

"It was never originally intended for Superman to give Superboy a Kryptonian name but as I was writing the issue, he did! It was really a case of the characters writing themselves! I settled on Kon-el because I wanted a name that began with "K" and, of course, the "el" was a given." (...how long was this boy originally supposed to go without a name? And surely Kesel also was aware that "Kon-El" and "clone" are nearly anagrams?)

[pandorafallz]

Vampire AU | Put to Place

Quaritch eyed his board of defectors with careful consideration, his mind churning as and his new findings were less than thrilling from the new reports he was able to retrieve from Earth. Carr was not actually Carr with a lot more colourful history than he anticipated and the quads he found was… nothing before their 11th birthday. Like they didn’t exist before then which smelt like someone with high power or even a lot ton of money masked and erased traces of them from the system.

That left questions and he wanted the answers.

The backburners for now while he concentrated on his more current problems and one was going to become Mansk’s problem by the end of the day and one he intended to address to ensure it didn’t grow into something problematic.

“You wanted to see me, Colonel Quaritch” The synthetic voice was barely indistinguishable from the natural one. Almost.

Quaritch turned to see Colonel Harding in the doorway, dressed back into her SecOps gear, her hair looked a little curly than usual but pulled back from her face nonetheless, her blue eyes were sharp and stared almost into him. Her throat now more a new adornment other than the scars and healed burns. A healed trachea scar at the base of her throat from intubation in medical, but along the skin of her throat was a two-inch by one inch dark sliver panel that lay paralleled to her windpipe. It had a port that was covered by a protective film but he was sure the lanyard she had with her DMT was the tools to maintain and adjust her new implant. Fancy stuff and he knew there were a lot more under her skin.

“I did.” He said, “You’re cleared from medical and due to return to Frontier West.” He gestured her to sit.

Harding did so, her eyes narrowing but only sunk into a chair after he did. “What of it?”

“You know it’s being led by one of my men, Devin Mansk.”

“Yes,” She didn’t sound thrilled.

Quaritch chuckled dryly. “I know why you’re pissed about that but I’m not here to fight his battles for him but I am here to remind you that he is running base with authority over you. He reports to Selfridge. You work under him.”

“I am aware.” Her tone was dryer than a desert.

“Good. You’ll also still have Corporal Walker assigned to your team. She’ll be better use with you and I’m sure Director Mansk give you a full debrief on what he expects from you as his head of security. I’ve recently been thinking about what that means and given your… questionable history with the late John Mercer and those Na’vi kids that somehow needed up in your own base for years, I think we should make sure you do not stray from that definition and it’s requirements.”

Harding’s eyes narrowed further at him, her lips curling in dissatisfaction.

“Your job is to protect West Frontier and the other bases of their region. You’re to keep your people safe and in line for the safety of others. You’re not a soldier going out to war and to fight battles needlessly.” Quaritch reminded, coming to lean over his desk and rested on his knuckles. “We’re not a privatised military force for humanity. The RDA is still a corporation. A job. Gas, Oil and unobtainium are our goals. You are to protect those people. Nothing more. We’re not contracted for that. A life of your men should always be over our sites and our equipment. There’s no coming back from dead and these people we have didn’t come all this way to die for something as mediocre as metal and oil.”

“I’ve… gained a few perspective on life, Colonel Quaritch.” Harding said, her tone tight and clearly holding back anything less than basic respect given he was in a far more favourable position than her. “Getting stabbed in the neck will do that to you.”

“Hm.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Yes, Dr Cortez’s work. I’m surprise a simple doctor got one-over you. Why wasn’t she cuffed?” he allowed himself to sit back.

Harding’s huffed. “She was pulled straight from her link-bed. Not exactly walking straight.”

“You hit the emergency button?”

“Her avatar was AWOL. We needed answers.”

Quaritch hummed softly as he leant to his monitor to bring up the video feed but didn’t play it. “I know from this, Mercer slapped her and looks like he ordered you to do something with her. You got close and she grabs that bottle from the side, smashes it into the table side and stabs you in the neck and uses your gun to shoot Mercer. What were you ordered to do?”

Harding’s eyes turned to the camera intently but she said nothing.

Quaritch tilted his head. “Let me guess, he wanted you to execute her?” It was a gritty assumption but Mercer’s new history didn’t show a pleasant light; he had to consider darker options here. “Clearly something motivated her to attack first. She was already dead on RDA systems so sending her back to Earth was a no-go without questions. Killing her or keeping her imprisoned would have been his only options.”

Harding’s eyes turned to him swiftly. “Already dead?”

Quaritch raised his eyebrow in surprise but pulled out Cortez’s file and mission report onto a tablet and held it out to her. “You weren’t aware? It’s your report, Colonel Harding. ”

She took it swiftly, her eyes running over the report before a dent formed quickly between her eyebrows. “This isn’t my signature on the report.” She stated. “I didn’t even write this.”

 “Are you certain?”

“Of course. I know my own reports, Colonel. This isn’t even my writing style and there’s no spelling errors in any shape or form.” She scowled deeply.

“You’re dyslexic?”

“Mildly.” Harding admitted, “I don’t remove every mistake purposely for this exact reason. This other report is too pristine.” She handed it back to him, still scowling in annoyance. “Mercer is the only one who could have done it. He’s a neat freak.”

Quaritch raised an eyebrow but set it down. “So that means you’re the only one who has the most up-to-date knowledge of Dr Cortez and her purpose at that TAP school underneath Frontier West. She was only meant to be in the west to expand SciOps and to educate your people of the dangers and find a diplomatic solution of dealing with the locals. Was she playing Momma to those Na’vi kids with her avatar?”

Colonel Harding remained quiet for a moment before answering carefully. “Mercer and Cortez developed the program. Wasn’t just John. She was just their teacher. Nothing more since then.”

“Any reason she might turn against the RDA? Aside from… you know, genocide.”

Harding shook her head. “No. She had no connections outside the RDA. Her husband and daughter died on their way to Hell’s Gate fifteen years ago so--”

Quaritch sat up straighter. “Husband? Daughter?” That was new information.

Harding sighed deeply in annoyance. “I guess that wasn’t included in her file that you have?” She considered her words. “Cortez got knocked up and popped out a kid about… fifteen years ago when the program started. She married Dr Michael Brookes a week before she gave birth per his request. Two weeks later, their ship was shot down by a Na’vi in a Banshee. All were lost.”

“Are you certain? The pilot could have--”

“She wouldn’t have fucked up.” Harding interrupted unbashfully. “Corporal Harding was the pilot and she was a good pilot. She wouldn’t have messed up unless she was attacked.” Her tone filled with a very intense anger.

Corporal Harding. Anela Harding. Quaritch knew vaguely Colonel Harding had a significantly younger sister who was KIA over a decade and a half ago but he had no idea they had served on the same facility. Often, with one sibling in high power, the second one wouldn’t be working so close. Personal feelings were always a possibility. Like now, it seemed to be very personal.

It opened up a few curiosity but he withheld in asking that for now.

“I thought my son was the first human born on Pandora.” He mused, he shook his head thoughtfully. No, little Miles wasn’t relevant here. “I want a report on Cortez and her history with the staff the last 17 years before her actual death.”

“So it’s confirmed she’s actually dead?”

“Not officially but the doctor was shot twice in the back. Do you really think jungle-dwellers have the equipment to save her?”

Harding considered his words, a hand coming to feel the panelling thoughtfully before she smirked a little with satisfaction. “No, I suppose not.”

“I still want those reports before you leave. And remember, you’re head of security there. Act. Like. It.”

-

It was almost a blessing in the fact sleep was an impossibility for the unalive people. Hale was never more glad to be a vampire than now to sort through all this shit of paperwork; survey reports, damage reports, the refinery report and updates, getting Augustine to get her folks chosen so they could get to work in getting the filter fixed, having the supplies of unprocessed ore moved into containers to secure them, making sure the landslide was on its way to being cleaned up and the mine wall reinforced and of course, bugging Selfridge back with the reports by giving him all the details of her work (barely adding to her own but since he was getting well into micromanaging, she’d add to his work).

It filled up her hours very quickly despite sharing the lesser burdens amounts onto her already-stressed co-workers and supervisors, even sinking into the night to get everything into order for the next day and repeat. How a human did this, without cracking or throwing themselves into the mine from the top, was beyond her. It was unsurprising that Major Kung had been a hard-ass as a result and fucked around to destress.

The small mercy of letting her supervisors and their teams run the groundwork, it meant she wasn’t as exposed; she had no new unobtainium rashes that were lingering so paperwork was her curse and blessing.

But now their current problem was becoming bigger. The landside had shaken a lot of her people and had dampened morale and she… needed a way to cheer them up as a unit. That didn’t exclude the ones she knew were ditching soon, so she’d need to plan around that.

“Captain Hale?” A soft knock echoed

“Come in.” She said, not looking up. “How can I help you, Mr Gates?”

The door opened before the familiar scent wafted in from the airlock, tinged by the lingering clawing metallic ting. “Sorry, I know you’re busy. Just a personal matter.”

Hale snorted very dryly at that. “Indeed. Just give me one more second…” She wrapped up her report quickly, the touchpad barely keeping up before she sighed it off and sent it away before she set her tablet down and ticked it off on her monitor before she rose from her desk to give him her full attention. “Thank you.”

She tried to ignore the… whispers of his mind as she focused on him but it was hard to ignore his mental noise.

Reading another person’s mind was… beyond just listening to something like a radio. Everyone’s mind has different ways of processing information and in some cases, not in internal monologue. Some people processed through memory fragments (from personal or from things they watched) or musical lyrics to form a line of thought, hard of hearing had more visual thinking like letters or hands with signings, and some lacked mental visualizers (like Aphantasia) entirely. Some people didn’t “think” in English, even if they spoke fluent English which had been a very jarring experience. Everyone had different ways and you could tell a lot about a person with how they processed the world.

Emotion also lined the thought process but what she saw more visually like a transparent fog of colours around their form that faded and flowed with their thought processes like churning of waves; the colours changing and shifting in response to the emotion.

The subconscious was a whole new realm that she didn’t look into needlessly nor did she try; it was more layered and more complicated and more guarded than the rest of their open mind. Easier to assess when someone is asleep.

Humans could have some mental defences and could develop them if they practised with the right guidance. Military folk often had to toughen their minds up to cope with Drill Sargent’s yelling, and stress and allowing them to concentrate on the situation in front. Some had clear barriers that muffled their mental chatter and emotional channels. Those were the most common. Human mental barriers were typically thin but vampires could develop and thicken them with more personalised means of defence.

Gates was an internal monologue guy, with no defences so his mind was loud and his emotions were broadcast more like a light show, which was why it was hard to ignore. Having this shtick as her primary meant she found it hard to…distance herself from it; tuning people away took far more effort. There were never quite the ‘off’ buttons as with her other gifts.

He was anxious to be here but felt a sense of duty.

Gates swallowed uneasily. “I was… wondering if you’d take the time to visit Conner down at Med?”

“Is he alright?”

“The kid lost his leg, I don’t think he’s happy.”

Hale sighed deeply. “I was too slow.”

“It’s not your fault, Captain.” Gates defended, “You stopped seven men getting crushed at the tank and ledges and literally dug him out. He wants to see you.”

Before they leave.

Hale chewed her tongue softly though she still felt the gnawing guilt; she could have been faster, inhumanly faster to have saved him. They may not have noticed in the moment but… she had withheld to maintain her secret. A habit by now but… it still cost someone their leg. He was only 22 and practically fresh off the ISV Venture Star. He still had options within the RDA; an expensive Prosthesis would take most, if not all of his paycheck and leave nothing much to return home with unless they could get a lawsuit to get compensation or the RDA would generously ‘gift’ Conner with the prostheses given the nature of his injury. If he wanted a flesh leg back then he’d have to go home for it. She already knew what the kid was getting.

“I’ll see him tonight before curfew. I can’t come sooner but I should have anything manageable by then.”

Gate’s shoulders relaxed. “It’d do him some good.”

“I know things aren’t gonna be easy for him. Especially out here. Once he’s better, I was considering moving him to assist me here with management or to the Manufacturing rig. He’s very bright. Why didn’t he get signed on as SciOps?” She asked, eyeing the older man with a quizzical look. She had overheard the kid talking about fossils and shit to his colleagues and she felt his mind was sharp and absorbed a lot of information quickly. He never let on easily, even with his quietly burning crush on her.

“Couldn’t. Neither he nor his Parents couldn’t pay for the tests for the qualifications. MineOps was the easiest area to get into.”

“I see.” Not surprisingly, most of MineOps and half the SecOps had their geniuses but lacked the funds to where they had wanted to be. Interests became hobbies in a place like this, she supposed. “Since MineOps is going to be quiet this week until the site’s sound and the refinery’s up and running, shifts are going to be very slow. I was going to ask tomorrow but I noticed you’ve put your team on odd shifts this week and all together on the Sunday late, any reason why?”

His heart picked up heavily, mind washed with anxiety but his face betrayed nothing. ‘Fuck’, was the lingering mood of his entire being but he answered quickly. “A few people wanted days swapped for personal reasons. Duty rosters don’t a line-up and more so over different sectors.” He said, sounding very confident on the matter despite the clear bull-shit he was sprouting. He seemed very surprised at himself.

Hale sighed but allowed herself to appear as though she bought it. “I suppose that makes sense but I’d rather you ran this many people with changing sifts over with me. Some are trained in specific areas that are day-dependant on our productivity. I need to know who I have on hand, Frankie.”

Gates nodded quickly. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

She nodded, her monitor dinging which signalled the end of their conversation. He looked glad to leave so with a nod, she dismissed him.

-

Hale kept her word, if a bit later than planned. Her nose wrinkled a little at the strong smell of disinfectant that covered the undertone of blood and other fluids that resided from passing beds and room doors.

“Captain Hale?” By no surprise, Dr Solis saw her as she passed one of the rooms he was leaving.

“I’m here to see Conner, nothing more.” She said, offering him a soft smile.

That didn’t ease too much of his fears, she sensed but he was at more ease with her than most of the others.

“He’s in the far room.”

“What’s the mood in there?”

Dr Solis turned to the far end and then hummed noncommittally. “Delicate, be gentle.” He requested. “Ten minutes at the max then lights out for him.”

Hale nodded softly, patting the doctor softly on the shoulder before she knocked gently.

The occupant was a lanky thin man with auburn hair and a shower of light reddish freckles over his cheeks and nose that stood out from his fair skin. Conner was awake, drowsy but in pain, even if he didn’t show it; she could almost feel the phantom sensations of burning down her own leg with how open his mind felt in her presence.

“Yes?” His head rolled towards the door before his eyes widened. “C-Captain Hale?” he seemed very surprised but his heart jumped on his monitor loudly and seemed to flutter in quiet excitement. Colour seemed to bloom in his cheeks and his pupils dilated a mere fraction.

She opted to ignore his reaction to her. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I haven’t got long.”

Conner shook his head. “You can come in.” he gestured to a seat close by, his blue eyes darting about as if to check everything looked orderly.

Hale smiled softly and took a seat beside his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“O-okay, I guess.” His lip trembled a little, his gaze turning down to his bed sheet; the gap more visible. “I… it feels weird. Like it’s still there.”

“Your nerves are still healing, have you talked to one of the nurses about physical therapy to reduce phantom pain?” Hale asked.

Conner shook his head. “Not… thought that far, Captain. My head feels…foggy. It won’t stop hurting. It feels like my toes are on fire and yet… there’s nothing there.”

“I’m sorry.”

Conner swallowed thickly. “I thought the walls were tested regularly? I thought we were safe. Why… why did the landside happen?”

“That’s still being investigated. We’re still shovelling the dirt and clearing the way to the wall side.” Hale said, “Could be as simple as a scanner malfunctioning or someone dropped one of the mine explosives and it got buried. We’ll see.”

The young miner frowned before he sniffled a little and settled his head back on his pillow. “I’ve…been here for almost three months and this happens to me?”

“I’m sorry.” Hale apologised. “I should have been faster.”

“How? I saw you pull many asses out of the way. I was too slow.” He blinked rapidly, “I keep remembering that moment. The… the feel of the stone and dirt. I can’t sleep. I keep thinking it’s gonna keep coming and that it’ll bury me like it did those trucks”

Hale offered a hand, to which he took far too eagerly but it was easy to skate into his mind a little through this contact; his fear was prominent and tied into the memory; the sensory feel of his leg getting caught then the weight that crushed the bone, mild distorted now with irregularities and intrusive thought… the current consistent pain of his nerves as he healed from the amputation.

“Your hands are cold,” He complained.

“Poor circulation.” Hale chuckled.

“Feel’s nice.” He snorted once, eyes heavy. “…thank you for trying to save me, Captain.”

“You’re welcome, Conner.” She sighed deeply, “I… was wondering if you had any good ideas for me? Morale isn’t good these days for the group and I want to help but I’m running dry on what we can do to cheer your co-workers up.”

Conner’s head tilted towards her, his brow pulling in. “Maybe a movie night?” He suggested.

a comedy or something to bring laughter.

Hale considered his line of thought carefully. “Movie night in the Mess? That’ll be hard to wrangle.” But not impossible. She could see them appreciate the notion but getting it past Selfridge would be hard as fuck. Maybe Quarich could distract the rat bastard long enough for the miners to have their hour in the mess.

“It’ll be nice.” Conner tried, trying to suppress a yawn.

“I’ll think on it.”  She rubbed the back of his warm hand softly, gently coaxing him to sleep which wasn’t hard to do in his current state, allowing herself to… numb the edges of the fear linked to the incident. Nothing permanent or binding but would ease his healing for a while and something he would have to face when he was ready to.

Phantom pain was by no means an easy condition and for many it was a life-long condition that varied. Some therapies worked over others and she knew, with him out in the open, he wasn’t going to get the therapy he needed to handle that pain. Perhaps a little out of pity, Hale softly made the connections to ease the pain away and soothe the phantom sensation fiery edge into a simple warm sensation; no pain, but the presence was there still. She couldn’t erase everything for him when he was still healing; that’d hamper the process too much but this was the best she could do to make up for her lack of action.

His breathing eased up considerably as he slept, the frown disappearing as he slipped easily into a deeper sleep. She set his hand carefully onto his side and let him be, switching off his lights before sliding his door shut.

-

“Colonel Harding’s arrived,” Walker announced, an entire room away in a quiet mutter but it drew his attention from his tablet to hear the sound of the wyvern’s tyres land and the engines start to die. The synthetic voice echoed the new arrivals into gear and to get them moving in.

“Bring her down to me, Walker.” Mansk set his work aside, securing his monitor and pulled out another tablet from his desk and waited. Not for long before he heard the colonel’s breath rasp through the implant, not that the sound was too audible for human ears.

Quickly, he pulled off his sunglasses, reaching for his contact lenses from his top drawer and set them in, blinking a little before they settled into his eyes. He had been wearing contact not in as often; the glasses were good for now.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Mask felt teeth form into fangs as the colonel’s scent hit him in the lungs and his throat burned immediately.

It was worse than freshly split blood on a thirsty day; his own belly was filled from a recent feed but he felt his instinct and despite to bite and feed with how oddly alluring her scent was. Harding’s quality of blood was… exquisite.  He hadn’t smelt such a scent beyond Midori and even then, it was rare to even get a bite from her; everyone or someone seemed to get there before him when she was able to be fed from again. Hell, Augustine targeted Midori for six months in the early days simply to spite Shen and to rob the engineer of the quality of the feed she provided since Midori had once quartered close to the vampire.

Exquisite blood was… more than just a nice smelling human and a good feeding experience but their blood alone seemed to saturate the longest in their system and could go further between feeds, providing far more nourishment and fulfilment. Each thump of her heart was an alluring lull along with her scent. A song, even.

But it carried a far bigger risk… it was harder to stop and let them live. Exposure to Midori had left those feeding from her learning that restraint and they had learned control. But Harding’s scent was new. A new restraint to learn.

Walker’s expression was blank but he could see she was holding her breath, eyed black under her contact lenses as she too watched the blissfully unaware human lead on towards him.

Mansk sucked his teeth, willing them to return to something blunt before he gruffly shook her hand. Her warm hand. “Colonel Harding.” He greeted, stiffly.

“Director Mansk,” Harding replied, just as stiff but there was a slight twitch as she felt the unexpected coolness of his skin and she briskly dropped her hand.

“Welcome back to Frontier West. We’ve undergone a major re-haul. I’m sure you’ve read the reports of all expected changes and reports that’s occurred since you were… pulled back.”

“I have.” Harding’s lips pursed.

“Good. Now I am not John Mercer I run this base to be efficient but not at the expense of all of our lives. I expect the same from you.”

“Colonel Quaritch always gave me this talk. I don’t think we need to go over it.”

Mansk smiled but it wasn’t kind as he fixed her with a heavy stare, “He was being gentle.” His voice became cold, stepping into her space before allowing her to feel the soft warning that came from him.

Humans had instincts and a gut to know when something was right, wrong or dangerous and Mansk had found that they held means to muffle the warning vibes by the energy they give off. Often, they had reigned in but now, he let her feel the sense of warning; he was more than what seemed and he was fine to let her know that; he was no pushover here. He was dangerous.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction and the thump of her heart only ticked up a beat that betrayed her unease but she held a good façade to now show anything.

“Unlike John Mercer, I am a soldier. I know how shit flies and I know how we think. I run this base. You will run security to protect our people but don’t think for a second I won’t put you in your place if you think you can step out of line and endanger our people, Colonel Harding. I know about the little black market you’ve got and don’t think for a second I’ll let shit go easy.”

Harding’s eyes narrowed. “The black market is hardly a cost and the RDA has approved it.”

“I’ve read up about the Zeswa from RDA studies of the near clans.” He picked up his tablet. “They’re a clan that wanders and has a symbiotic relationship with the Zakru. They’re proud Direhorse riders and fierce warriors. That’s a risk I have to consider.”

“We’re in the Kinglor Forest. Far away.”

“We are, yes, but we have other stations around this frontier, including the Upper Plains that are minimally manned and wouldn’t survive an attack of angry Zeswa.” Mansk iterated, “Sure, I won’t stop you from poaching given the RDA’s greenlight but I will limit you to what creatures to take. No Zakru, their bones or any of the Direhorses.”

Harding scoffed a little. “That’s hardly fair.”

“You can hunt the Arrow Deer, the cloaked panthers and the Bladehead. That’s plenty. They reproduce fast after all. But going for anything of the Zakru and Zeswa will turn unwanted attention to us. Your job will become impossible and you’ll lose good men and women needlessly. I will not let that happen.” He glared down at the shorter Colonel. “Understood?”

Harding’s eyes were narrow, clenching hard. “Understood.”

“Here’s the revised poaching plan for you to sign. Quaritch approved this.” He held the tablet out, “So your fuck-ups will end your job here and anyone else who agrees to aid your side-projects.”

Her gaze was near a glare as she took it. “Fine,”

“Good. Dismissed.”

Her hands clenched as she turned and strode from the office, her scent lingering in the air after her before the door closed sharply. He let out a sigh. Though it made him smile to hear the Colonel grumble and tap along the tablet as she read as she went.

Worth it.

“Can I feed from her?” Walker asked, inhaling deeply. “She smells so good.”

“Not yet.” He gave his colleague a soft look, “Give her time to settle. Don’t kill her, Maria.”

Walker perked up at that. “Alright.”

Masterlist

[justinspoliticalcorner]

S.V. Dáte at HuffPost:

WASHINGTON — A prolific conspiracy theorist who has embraced the QAnon cult and already has a 60-name enemies list of President Donald Trump’s critics goes before U.S. senators Thursday to determine whether he will take charge of the nation’s premier law enforcement agency. Kash Patel, who has spread Trump’s lie that the 2020 election was stolen from him and the debunked claim that the FBI instigated the Jan. 6, 2021, violent assault on the Capitol, will soon be running that agency — unless four Republican senators defy Trump and vote him down. “What makes Patel dangerous is his willingness to harness and deploy government resources,” said Amanda Carpenter, a former Republican Senate aide and now a researcher with the Protect Democracy nonprofit. “When the government gets power like this, it rarely is only used for its publicly intended purpose.” Patel, if confirmed, would represent a radical departure from the type of nominee presidents of both parties have sought to put in charge of the FBI since a Senate investigation in the 1970s found rampant abuses by J. Edgar Hoover, who had run the agency and its predecessor entity from 1924 until his death in 1972 as a personal fiefdom by investigating his critics for the purpose of holding leverage.

Trump, who has shown little interest in following good government norms since his election in 2016, has now twice cut short the 10-year term that was established for an FBI director specifically so the agency could not be beholden to a single president. In early 2017, Trump fired then-Director James Comey after he refused to pledge Trump his loyalty.

[...]

Discrediting The Russia Probe

Unlike many Trump acolytes who came up in Republican politics, Patel, 44, began his career as a public defender in state and federal courts in Miami before moving to the Justice Department during Obama’s tenure. His rise in Trump’s circle began when he moved to work under Devin Nunes, a California congressman at the time who was the Republican chair of the House Intelligence Committee. Trump was obsessed with undermining the intelligence community’s assessment, shared by a separate investigation by the Senate Intelligence Committee, that Putin had helped Trump win the 2016 election. Patel authored a report trying to discredit special counsel Robert Mueller’s investigation into ties between Trump’s 2016 campaign and Russia, winning great acclaim in pro-Trump media. It became the go-to document for those pushing Trump’s false claim that it was all a “hoax.”

From there, Patel went to work in Trump’s White House as a staffer for the National Security Council until the final months of that first term, when he became chief of staff in the Office of the Director of National Intelligence and, ultimately, chief of staff for the acting secretary of defense. Trump tried to install Patel as deputy CIA director as part of his machinations to remain in power despite having lost reelection, but backed down when agency Director Gina Haspel said she would resign in protest. Between the end of the first Trump term and the start of the second, Patel enthusiastically joined in the pro-Trump movement’s grift machine, cashing in on appearances and merchandise exploiting the seemingly limitless demand for all things Trump. He produced a podcast for the conspiracy theory-promoting news site Epoch Times. He traveled the country for revival-style meetings of believers of QAnon, a fringe cult that sees Trump as a messianic figure destined to rid the government of those who secretly murder children to drink their blood.

[...] He helped produce a recording of “The Star-Spangled Banner” made by inmates of the District of Columbia jail accused and, in some cases, already convicted of assaulting police officers on Jan. 6, which Trump then participated in and which was then sold commercially. Trump subsequently played the song at his rallies while he would stand at attention. He even helped market pills that claim — with zero evidence of efficacy — to undo the effects of COVID-19 vaccines. “Spike the Vax, order this homerun kit to rid your body of the harms of the vax,” Patel wrote in a social media post, linking to “Warrior Essentials” website [...]

So Many Enemies

No FBI nominee in history has come to the job with such a comical assortment of statements and money-making schemes. Yet, If Patel’s nomination fails, it could well be because of the adult book he published in 2023, “Government Gangsters: The Deep State, the Truth, and the Battle for Our Democracy.” Hoover famously sought out “subversives” and “communists” to target in his decades in power. Patel, in contrast, has based his dividing line between friend and foe much more simply: how an individual has treated Trump and, relatedly, Patel himself.

“Deep state” is a phrase popularized by Bannon to describe individuals in the federal government who are not personally loyal to Trump, and, in his book, Patel printed an appendix naming 60 of them. “This list only includes current and former executive branch officials and is not exhaustive. It does not, for example, include other corrupt actors of the first order such as Congressmen Adam Schiff and Eric Swalwell, members of Fusion GPS or Perkins Coie, Christopher Steele, Paul Ryan, the entire fake news mafia press corps, etc.,” he wrote. Some names are unsurprising — Democratic leaders who have criticized Trump over the years like former President Joe Biden and his vice president, Kamala Harris. Prosecutors who investigated Trump’s actions leading up to and on Jan. 6, 2021, and his subsequent retention of secret documents made the list, as did those who took part in the FBI’s earlier investigation into Trump’s acceptance of Russian assistance to help win the 2016 election.

Trump’s own attorney general, Bill Barr, is on the list, as is Alexander Vindman, the NSC whistleblower who revealed Trump’s attempt to coerce Ukraine into investigating then-candidate Biden. Wray, who resigned rather than force Trump to fire him, is on Patel’s list, as are Biden’s attorney general, Merrick Garland, and Obama’s attorney general, Loretta Lynch. CIA Director Haspel, whose threatened resignation made Trump reconsider his attempt to make Patel her deputy, is now on Patel’s enemies list. Also on the list, though, are Trump administration officials whose only offense appears to have been refusing to go along with his scheme to remain in power despite losing the 2020 election. Former White House counsel Pat Cipollone and his deputy, Pat Philbin, are both included. They advised Trump against taking illegal actions in the final weeks of his first term and, prior to that, opposed Trump’s effort to install a pliant attorney general who was willing to help spread his lies about a stolen election.

Kash Patel will be grilled in the Senate today, and he’ll face questions over his enemies list and QAnon support, among other issues, such as January 6th.

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Soul Bound

Sophia and Gina Bouchard are moved by their love seeking mother to the town of mystic falls. No one is as they seem. Gina, the self proclaimed boring sister is being hunted down by the Mikaelson family. One particular brother seems to have a history with one. He claims their souls are bound by witchcraft.

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Chapter 1: The party

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“Come on, this is a great way to meet people. Promise me you wont be lame and you’ll actually try to meet people, try to be social.” My stunning older sister Sophia, a college student, had found a party to attend only two days after we moved to another state.

She was a summer baby. Tan skin, pale blonde hair that naturally waved and blue eyes. She was mom's bestie. They were both excited to move here.

Mystic Falls, Virginia.

Our mother had used a crystal to devine where we were to go. Her witch friend back home in Boise Idaho had told her a romantic destiny, a soul mate was there ripe for the taking.

My mother heard soul mate, Virginia and wealth. That all she and my sister cared about when it was decided that fate had intervened and we were moving.

I was practical like my father. Wealth was something you built on intelligence and hard work, you planned for life the best you could and carried yourself with grace. He’d named me Gina after his grandmother. Some southern Belle from Tennessee that debuted in the thirties. He’d adored her tales of romance, intrigue and wealth. I had never met her but I’d read her diaries. If I ever had a paramour in the family, it would have been her. I kept my blonde hair tidy but not trendy, I was short but thin.

I wasn’t in fashion or trendy unlike my mother and her mini twin Sophia.

I couldn’t be more alone with my two bubbly family members.

“I promise to not embarrass you intentionally.” I smiled tightly. I meant it. I really wanted to make a good first impression, I just didn’t care about parties or who was popular. I would rather know one person who gets me, then know fifty people and get followers on instagram and so on. I was boring with my writing fiction sites and dance classes.

“Ugh, fine, come here Gina.” She grabbed her wrist with her long pink nails and drugged me through a throng of townspeople. I liked this actually. The house was massive and well decorated. Lots of bold arches, paintings and interesting wood features. I wanted to get lost in this house!

“Where are we?” I asked. Her face screwed up in confusion. I could feel the excitement on my face. She wasn’t used to me having fun.

“The Mikaelsons, I think? I have two classes with Stephan Salvador and he invited me. I want to meet as many cute people as possible. Don’t wreck anything. Caroline, Elena, wait up!” I watched her chase after her “friends” that she met at the college. Fast friends they were all over each others social media and constantly texting.

I grinned happy to be abandoned in a huge old house. There had to be a library or a cool room I wasn’t supposed to be in. I squealed with excitement and skipped down the hall. Perhaps there was a garden out here?

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I was right. There were massive grounds put back. Some were cultured like small European gardens, others a bit more savage with broken columns forgotten by time and wild. The savage garden was my favorite. I sat on a stone bench near the forest. I could hear the party and see the lights but I was alone.

I tapped my phone and found a short story I was editing for a friend, this was my kind of night.

“Gina? Gina Bouchard?” My head shot up at the mention of my name. The man appeared to be excited to see me. He reminded me of an imp. He had cropped red hair, an impish smile that promised fun and trouble. He was dressed casually with jeans, a green henley t-shirt and no shoes. My sister's type.

“Yes….” I said hesitantly.” Do I know you?” I asked standing up. His face faltered for a moment but he recovered quickly reaching for my hand. He held it up and kissed the back of my hand.

“ I’ve met your family.” He grinned at me. Definitely trouble.

“You seem like Sophia’s type.” I smiled politely wondering if she sent him out to fetch me. I bumped the screen of my phone and glanced down out of my peripheral trying not to be rude. It was only ten o’clock. She wasn’t going home anytime soon.

“And you, my dear, seem like my brother's type of woman. Come on. “ He grabbed my hand and before I could protest he was dragging me through the house and up the grand staircase. I made eye contact with my annoyed sister about half way up. She gestured to the cute man and spread her arms out. I had no idea what he was doing either. I stumbled now realizing we were at the top overlooking the party. This house was massive.

“Are you alright luv?” His British accent was charming and his boyish grin. I laughed and shook my head.

“Just wondering where we are going.” I didn't mind a tour but there were a few rooms to avoid, specifically bedrooms.

“Do you like art? I like to paint.” His deep rich voice pulled me forward, compulsion. I smiled and nodded following him slowing down to lag behind. I grabbed my grandmother's necklace, it was supposedly enchanted to keep the wearer safe from magic. I slipped the green stone necklace around my neck, grateful he didn’t turn around right away. I almost crashed into him once he abruptly stopped.

“Welcome to my studio.” He pushed the large wooden door open revealing a room cluttered with canvases and all things an artist could ever want in a lifetime. I gasped and eagerly walked in. Sketching and painting wasn’t my field of expertise so I loved looking at original works by people who had skill.

He and I were laughing and going over different styles and just silly things we saw and heard on social media sites. I was losing track of time.

“You seem to have found company for the evening Klause, having fun? ” A low, silky voice wafted through the room. It commanded respect. I looked up at the well dressed man in the door frame. He had short dark hair, piercing eyes, a chiseled jaw and he stood like a king.

I saw a slight resemblance, brothers perhaps.

“Elijah, this is Gina. I was just showing her some art pieces.” I looked at my host, Klause, to the man at the door again. I have met him before.

He held a glass or dark red wine and crossed the room as gracefully as a large cat. All muscle and eloquence. I stood instinctively. He took my hand and kissed the back of it just as his brother had in the garden. His eyes never left my face or neck.

“ Have you just moved to Mystic falls?” He asked genuinely curious.

“Yes, we've been here two days.” I wasn’t sure how much information I wanted to give out yet. Klause seemed nice enough but definitely supernatural.

“And you chose to grace us with your presence at our party. Thank you.” He seemed genuine but I’d been around my fathers family enough to know that the snobs could bite you verbally so subtly you didn’t know until later when you analized what they’d actually said.

“I meant no disrespect. I’m happy you attended.” He stood by me and the two men shared a series of interesting expressions.

My shrill little phone rang and I stepped out into the hall. Apparently it was time to go. It was eleven pm. I briskly walked down the stairs and almost crashed into Sophia at the base of the stairs.

“I wanna go, I hate this creepy place.” She looked hot, upset and disheveled. Not like her at all. I noticed two small little pricks by her neck. She kept rubbing her throat. I moved her hand concerned for her. It was fall in Virginia. It was chilly, bugs were out of the question.

“Are you bleeding?” I felt her pulse on her neck. She looked as if something had bitten her. “ Come on.” I wrapped my jacket around her and didn’t look back until I heard my name.

Nikolas and his brother Elijah stood overlooking the party. Concern laced the elder man's face. I shoved my sister gently toward the exit. I wasn’t in the mood.

“We’ll see you later Gina.” The red haired man called out to us. Sophia and I exchanged a quick glance and turned to flee to her car.

Definitely a weird experience. ______________________________________________________________