#i disappear for months come back to mass post about robots then disappear again

[diabolical-mangoes]

just one more week of finals and it's back to regular posting and screaming about robots!

...that is, if this flu doesn't kick my butt x'D

[crqstalite]

from the scrap pile.

yet another bit of scraps, this time from that time i told myself to novelize me2. obviously, didnt go over well (tl;dr, not enough kaidan for what i was planning to do with a sort of ‘series’), but there are some bits im really proud of in here (i’ll post lali + joker’s interaction in a bit so i can stagger these)

...possible warnings? it’s a combat scene. basically. mass effect 2. kinda worked as an introduction for annika post me1.

-

Kodelyn hears Miranda's voice from just beyond where she'd entered the alley, though there's an extra pair of boots that she makes out, and she pauses to lift the med-kit with her.

Distracted so easily, she only just makes out a hooded figure before she can pull a weapon. She's knocked off balance so quickly by a kick on the ankles she can't even register what's going on until her head hits the ground, hard, with a heavy boot on her chest holding her down and a glowing blue hand above her that holds a pistol aimed for her head. She barely makes out the sight of bullets flying at the person above her, though the blue corona flickers into a shield, blocking them as the shells fall to the ground harmlessly. She picks up the quiet sound of biotics thrumming above her, hearing Mordin's voice and a grunt from Miranda. They'd gotten hit by something, or each other. Her head swims, groaning as she blinks away dirt from her eyes. She can see stars in her eyelids as she squeezes them closed, trying to regain any sense of balance she still had. There'd be a knot on the back of her skull later, she knows it. 

Fear bubbles up in her throat, painkillers flooding her senses and numbing the shock. She's not wearing a helmet, hence the buzzing feeling that's starting to come over her. Her shields had to still be intact, but they couldn't take a shot at point blank range if they decided to shoot. Who knew who this even was? Some rogue biotic with a chip on their shoulder for her? It wasn't like she hadn't made it clearly obvious who she was, with the armor, N7 patch and all. 

She's beginning to feel herself spiral as the boot grows heavier on her chest, straining to breathe properly. Kodelyn's chest feels like it's constricting in on itself, but the rational part of her knows she's panicking, reliving old events. Had been one of the first things the N7 training had taught her how to regulate. Her eyes dart around for those terrifying few seconds, stars dancing across her vision at dizzying speed. Cotton feels like it's filling her ears, the hissing noise of something that sends a jolt through her body joining it.

She considers her options in that split second that her attacker's attention is split between her and her ground team, before wrenching the other person off their feet with a shove to the shins that knocks them off balance. They stumble into a wall, Kodelyn jumping for the chance to close in for a melee hit with her omni-tool glowing a menacing orange on her wrist. She doesn't get the chance before her attacker hits back with a biotic kick to her side, knocking the wind out of her. She's slow to reactivate her omni-tool, eventually realizing pulling her SMG on them would do more harm than good if they chose to use a shield. They take swift advantage of her incompetence in that moment she spends considering. Her attacker punches her a few more times with glowing fists, strategically placing Kodelyn in between them and Miranda and Mordin as she takes the onslaught. A sound strategy, she has to admit, as much as her body throbs at the idea. Seeing this, Kodelyn clumsily struggles to get the upper hand on them, her bulky armor taking a majority of the blows but still leaving places where she's sure she'll bruise.

Eventually, she does get behind them. Thinking it's over, she pulls her pistol out, pointing it at her attacker, who in the dim light whips around. Time slows down as their corona fully comes out, blue lighting their surroundings like a strike of lightning, her attacker charging her biotically. It formulates in her mind then and there that she's been cornered by who they’d been looking for, or at least someone who worked for them. However, she doesn't have long to even say anything before the force catches up to her and sends her skidding backwards onto the pavement. She can't breathe for those few moments, feeling weightless before the ground rushes up to meet her, slamming her back down onto the ground at an awkward angle. Pain shoots up her back as she struggles to draw a breath.

Now she's definitely sure she's gained another bruise, if not a few broken ribs at the same time.

Her hand to hand instructor would be pissed with her if he saw her now. Then again, all the biotics they knew of by that point were all Alliance, there hadn't been a need to learn to fight against them while they were on your side. These vanguards were too much of a wild card to reliably predict how to safely counteract their biotic charges short of literally side stepping them when you saw them coming.

If, you saw them coming.

Still, this was just embarrassing now, her reaction time had been slow and sluggish. Probably why it'd been so easy for them to get the jump on her. Either the Illusive Man or her sister were watching her suit cam, and she'd probably have to answer for a few things when she got back to the Normandy. And maybe take Jacob up on that offer to get some combat training in for the crew.

"Shepard!" Mordin's voice rings through her ears as Miranda closes in on the person. The Salarian offers her a hand up after side stepping the dueling pair, and she gratefully takes it while he pulls up his omni-tool. Blue lights the small space as Miranda throws the other person, though they expected that and counter with a shield, narrowly avoiding the warp she throws out moments later. It's enough of a distraction that she fumbles around for her own Carnifex, and takes steady aim in between the scuffle. Pulling the trigger, the bullet hits the attacker directly in the left arm, a clang sounding and reverberating against the walls of the side street.

A clang?

Her first thought is that it's a robot. Which doesn't make a whole lot of sense, unless the biotics were just for show and some trick of the light. Yet, the high impact of the shot distracts them long enough for Miranda to get a solid biotic flare in, and they tumble backwards, skidding on their boots into a crouched position. Only then does Kodelyn notice the small party of onlookers they've gathered, and shoots off a bullet in the distance to scare them off. They scurry in different directions, and only then does she approach the still shrouded person. Maybe they've accepted they've been caught, darting a glance to the operative and scientist who have their guns pulled on them. It's easy enough to goad them into moving out of the alley and into the light, though they don't look happy about it in the slightest.

She waves Miranda off to face them properly, the person rubbing their jaw with a grey, metallic hand. Able to focus better on who had admittedly taken her down rather well, purple-blue eyes flicker back at her, a red scarf covering the bottom half of their pale face. A hood is over their head, so she can't discern what color their hair is. A scar runs through their eye, still raised and red.

It takes her a moment to pull herself together, wiping away blood from where the impact had split her lip, "Widow, I presume?"

They don't answer for a moment, eyes narrowing at her. A chill runs down her spine.

"And you think your name is Shepard?" The deep feminine voice asks suspiciously, eyes darting down to the N7 patch on her chest. They scoff, "I'll have to say, Verner doesn't have anything on you. The similarities are nearly uncanny."

She can't place the voice. Maybe distorted through her ears, maybe because the accent isn't clear cut. Either way, they cross their arms and storm ahead, "You're not the real Shepard. A copy, maybe. Plastic surgery? Some Alliance officer to calm us all down? They tried that one for a while."

Alliance officer? That was a little terrifying to think about, in retrospect. Still, that wasn't her focus right then, steeling her tone from wavering, "My name is Shepard. Maybe I should be grateful I'm being recognized at all."

"You're the same person who's been trailing us," Miranda muses out loud, "If you don't think this is her -- which it is -- then why bother coming after her? A form of revenge?"

They skirt the question, "I don't know how you managed to find me here, or why Cerberus wants me, but you're going after the Collectors, I presume. Took someone long enough to realize they're the real enemy here."

"I doubt the galaxy is just in denial," Kodelyn responds, reholstering her pistol from where it'd been in her hands, "Colonies have been disappearing for months. It isn't so easily ignored."

"You talk as if you've been alive for the last two years. There were a lot of people who thought you were dead, Shepard. Think they even had a parade for you somewhere on Earth,"  They say matter-of-factly, as if they're saying she doesn't already know, "I don't know what your deal is, but I've got better things to do than duel with your sub-par combat skills."

Their omni-tool pings on their wrist when they trail off before Kodelyn can say anything, and they shove Mordin out of their path to leave the alley. They turn over their shoulder as an afterthought, shrugging for them to follow. 

"Shepard, you can't tell me you think this is in any way a good idea." Miranda hisses out in a whisper, watching as they turn the corner, "They could be a liability going forward if they attacked you for thinking you were a clone. We might be better off going after Archangel ourselves."

"Operative Lawson is correct. Choosing mercenary who tried to kill you, poor choice, Shepard." Mordin nods, "Would much rather work with someone less...problematic."

Something rubs her the wrong way about Widow, and she files their opinions away for thought when the real choice came to fruition. If she could have both, and it turned out they weren't interested in putting a bullet in her back, then it might work in her favor. But considering the fact they'd just laid her out then and there on the concrete, she didn't have high hopes for option one.

"I'm sure you can guess why we're here then, we need you for this fight," Kodelyn catches up to their shorter stride, but they don't even answer her, "But I'm guessing you're not budging until you finish here."

"Hm, then they remade you with a brain. Comforting." They nod, metal fingers flying over the keyboard of her 'tool, "Then if you know everything about me, then I'm guessing you know about the vendetta I have against Archangel." Kodelyn nods, and they pause by another apartment door, waving their omni-tool over it, "Bastard has caused me some...problems, since I've been here. If I'm going off to do something with a lower survival rate than living here, I'd rather be assured he won't be taunting me from the land of the living."

"You want him dead."

[diggydiggybot]

A lone reploid stood in the middle of a massacre.

Blood coated his claws and blades, and splattered over his body, while his head turned to scan the carnage he'd dealt.

It hadn't been difficult to get in. The meeting place was a large basement of a huge abandoned factory in a dilapidated part of the city. There were a few guards posted outside, but it was almost too easy to take them all out before using a broken window to sneak into the main building.

The problem with basements, they usually had few exits.

Umbran took the time to locate all the exits, and block them except for the main entrance. He wanted them cornered like the filthy rats they were. Then, came the fun.

He used his Blink Step ability to take out the guards posted at the entrance, then moved on down to the generator they were using to power everything they were using in the basement. Thrusting his dreadlock blades through the small generator, he effectively destroyed it indefinitely, plunging the basement into darkness.

Hardly any of them stood a chance in the pitch dark, while Umbran had night-vision scanners to guide him. There was no point using his Blink Step now, but he was still swift and merciless as he sliced throats and thrust blades through chests. There wasn't a spot of floor that wasn't covered by either a body or blood by the time Umbran stopped to admire his handiwork.

There almost seemed to be a glint-like glow behind his visor as the maverick relished in the scene surrounding him. Until there was a sound of movement.

Head snapped around in time to see someone disappearing up the stairs from the basement. A survivor?! With a snarl, Umbran gave chase, uncaring for the bodies he stepped over as he Blink Stepped his way out of the basement. He was just in time to see the survivor disappear down a corridor that led to an adjacent wing of the factory meant for offices and storage rooms.

He followed after them, using his Blink Step to close the distance until he saw them duck into a room. Now he approached cautiously, not knowing what might be in that room. Only when he was almost at the door, did he use his Blink Step again to quickly get into the room before the human could react. A good choice, as he saw the survivor had an anti-reploid weapon.

Moving quickly, he dodged a shot the survivor tried to take, before blades came forward to slice the weapon to pieces. Then he grabbed the front of the man's shirt and tossed him to the floor, away from tables covered in more anti-reploid weaponry, and pinned him down with a clawed foot on his chest.

"G-ghk! B-bastard!" The man spat with a furious look, though Umbran could see a hint of fear in his eyes.

Umbran gave a slow hiss. "Tch, you involved yourself with the wro--!" Umbran cut himself off as his head snapped up, having heard a soft sound that was neither of them, but in the same room.

A quick scan of the room revealed nothing... except for a closet door at one end of the room that was slightly ajar. And upon closer inspection... Someone was watching through the gap! He gave a low hiss as he felt the man suddenly start struggling under his foot.

"I see you! Come the fu--!!!" Umbran actually choked on his words as the door quickly opened to reveal a young boy. A young boy that was strikingly familiar and one he believed he'd never see again. It was the boy he’d saved during the mass maverick attack months ago.

"No..... No, no, no, what-?!" The dark armored reploid stuttered in shock, before suddenly glaring down at the man under his foot. Baring his teeth behind his helmet, he used his foot to shove the man to the other side of the room, still away from the weapon-laden tables, and quickly strode over to the young boy.

Ignoring protests from the man, Umbran knelt down on one knee in front of the kid, who had stepped out from the closet, and began gently checking him over, being careful not to get blood on him. He seemed unharmed, if a little nervous but there was a glint in his innocent eyes as the kid looked at him.

Heaving a sigh of relief, he was about to speak when the kid suddenly shot forward and... hugged him. Tightly. Behind him, he was sure he heard the man splutter in shock, but he was too focused on the little body wrapping his arms around him to care about what that asshole thought.

After a moment, Umbran awkwardly wrapped an arm around the boy, cringing a little as he tried hard to avoid getting blood on the poor kid. Eventually, Umbran cleared his throat to speak, trying to ignore the soft feeling in his core. "What in the hell are you doing here?! This is no place for you."

The kid blinked up at him, then made a soft, whimper-like noise as he glanced over at the man. Umbran felt anger begin to boil as he slowly turned his head to glare at the same man, who was staring between the young boy and him as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Y-you... O-oh god, it was you..." The man mumbled.

"What?" Umbran snapped, as he very gently unlatched the kid's arms from around him and he stood up, turning to face the man. The boy, apparently, wouldn't be denied though and loosely hugged Umbran's leg instead.

By now, the man had sat himself up and was leaning back against the wall, staring up at Umbran in disbelief. "H-he kept saying a guy with dreadlocks saved him. Back w-when reploids were going mad and attacking people in the city. I...I didn't think...i-it was a reploid..."

Umbran's eyes narrowed, then widened as he looked down at the young boy, then the man, then back and forth again. "He's...! You...!" His eyes finally landed back on the man, now realising he was the kid's father, as anger built back up. "Why in the fucking hell would you bring him here? To a fucking Emerald Spears meeting?!" Umbran growled in anger.

The man shrunk away, all bravado from earlier now gone. "I-I-I couldn't get a babysitter! I-I tried! A-and I really wanted to come s-soo..." The man trailed off, knowing nothing he said would placate the furious reploid, who's dreadlocks were tensely curling in the air behind him.

Umbran was that angry he was speechless, red eyes boring holes in the foolish human from behind his visor. What fucking idiot thinks a meeting of an anti-reploid/robot group is a safe place for a kid?!

But then there was a soft noise and Umbran looked down, seeing the young boy looking up at him with nervous innocent concern. All the anger abruptly drained out of him, though he still felt very irritated as he glanced back at the man, then back at the kid.

"Give me a moment, okay?" He asked gently, waiting until he got a nod before he stepped away from the boy and over to his father, who now looked terrified. Crouching down in front of him, Umbran got in his face and the man could feel the anger radiating off the maverick.

"You are going to pick up your son, get the fucking hell out of here, and never get involved with Emerald Spears ever again. Because trust me, if I ever catch you around these crazies again," Umbran growled quietly at the man, before finishing in a low hiss, "I'll kill you."

He pulled back a bit and glared the man down before he finally got a rapid nod, confirming the man understood what Umbran said. With an irritable grunt, Umbran fully pulled back and stepped away from the man, folding his arms across his chest.

It took a few moments for the man to recover from the very real threat Umbran made, shakily pushing himself to his feet before beckoning his son over to him. The young boy hesitated for a moment, glancing quickly at Umbran. The reploid motioned silently with his head, watching as the kid finally trotted over to his dad, who picked his son up and held him tightly to himself as he turned and fled the room.

The moment they left, anger began to flood the reploid again and with a ferocious snarl, tables and anti-reploid weaponry where sliced to pieces by dreadlock blades, rendering everything completely useless.

Then, using his Blink Step, he rushed from the room back to the main factory building, clawing his way up into the rafters to sit and watch. Just in time to see the father and son fleeing from the factory building through a murky window. He hissed a little at himself, pissed that he let a survivor leave alive, but he simply couldn't bring himself to cause more suffering for the young kid. He'd already gone through the trauma of the mass maverick attack some months ago...

He wasn't going to be the reason he lost his father so soon after.

So there he sat, up in the rafters, trying to calm his frustration at a mission left incomplete...

[sammythankyou]

Fortress Around Your Heart - Part One

Amazing moodboard courtesy of @ms-mead. Thank darling!

And if I’ve built this fortress around your heart,

Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire,

Then let me build a bridge, for I cannot fill the chasm,

And let me set the battlements on fire.

”Fortress Around Your Heart” by Sting

Summary: Michael Langdon meets someone unexpected at Outpost Three

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Female Reader

Warnings:  Brief smut

A/N: I want to credit @venusxxlangdon for her ideas & contributions to this story. Thank you doll!

Note: There is no connection between Michael and Ms. Mead in this story.

Apparently tumblr somehow ate my link and my original post of this so posting again 

Michael pulled back on the reins to slow the horses as the familiar sculpture came into view. He was tired. The last 18 months had worn on him. Virtually nothing had gone according to plan. The outposts were falling one after another. His father was not pleased with him. He felt like giving up.

Two figures appeared at the entrance to the outpost as he climbed down from the carriage.

“I need to speak to Ms. Venable,” he said, flashing his identification card.

“Yes sir Mr. Langdon,” the woman replied.

“Tend to the animals,” Michael said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He paused as he pulled a thought from the woman’s mind. “No harm better come to them,” he said, turning to face her.

She seemed taken aback, but said nothing. Michael glared at her for a few seconds before continuing into the passage leading inside Outpost Three.

Pulling the mask off over his head, Michael ran his hands through his long, blonde hair as he made his way to what used to be Behold’s office.

An unfamiliar feeling washed over him the deeper he progressed into the outpost, a presence Michael had never experienced before. Glancing around the candle lit hallway, he saw no one. Michael couldn’t explain what he was feeling, but there was pull, almost an urgency, bleeding out from deep inside him. It was unsettling.

After meeting with Ms Venable, Michael settled into his old room from his days at the Hawthorne Academy and waited for the occupants to finish dinner. Sitting down at the desk, he emailed the Cooperative to let them know he had arrived at the outpost. Michael shook his head as remembered Venable’s thoughts and the insane rules she had put into place in Outpost Three. He knew she had had at least three people executed. Sadistic bitch. Suddenly, the presence he had felt earlier imposed itself in his mind again. His fingers froze on the keyboard and then he was leaping to his feet and striding towards the door and yanking it open. A woman in a long ruby colored dress was disappearing around the corner. She paused briefly, her head turning back towards him, before hurrying down the long dimly lit hallway. Michael could feel the way her heart was racing and read in her thoughts that she had sensed him too. Gripping the edge of the door so hard that the wood began to splinter, Michael forced himself not to chase after the woman. What was happening to him?

Taking longer than necessary to finish his emails, Michael realized it was past time to speak to the residents of the outpost. Rubbing tiredly at his eyes before closing his laptop, he stood up and made his way to the great room.  

By the time Michael entered the large room, the woman’s presence was almost overwhelming. His eyes immediately found her, seated off to the side by herself. While all the other residents talked quietly with each other, the woman was silent, eyes downcast. Clasping his hands together behind his back, Michael focused on Ms. Venable, as he circled the large room.

As he completed his speech about the Sanctuary, he allowed his eyes to finally settle back on the woman. A look of surprise crossed her face when his blue eyes met hers. Michael felt irresistibly drawn to her. Realizing that their gazes had been locked on each other for a good 30 seconds, Michael forced his eyes to Mr. Gallant who was saying something about volunteering.

Sitting down heavily on the foot of the bed, Michael pulled his boots off one by one. The interviews he had conducted left him even more weary than he already had been. He supposed he should feel bad for messing with Ms. Venable, but he couldn’t bring himself to bother. She was cruel and unfair and power hungry. Michael intended to see that she got what she deserved. Sighing deeply, Michael collapsed back onto the bed. Though he tried to cloak his thoughts from his father, Michael found himself caring less and less about the entire process.

His thoughts drifted back to the woman. Even in a room full of people, she seemed so alone. Just like him. Her thoughts and emotions were so different than the vacuous minds of almost every other resident of Outpost Three. All day long he had been accosted by clamoring thoughts of the lengths everyone would go to in order to get into his good graces. It all made him sick. Another unpleasant memory surfaced before sleep could take him.

He had just completed the Black Mass. People crowded around, praising him. But Michael felt nothing. Slipping her hand into his, the girl drew Michael away from the other members of the congregation and invited him to come back to her apartment. He didn’t need to ask what she was offering because it was filling her thoughts. Once they were outside the building, the girl leaned up to press her lips against his. Michael had never kissed anyone before, never touched or been touched this way. He really had not had the occasion during his young life, but deep down he also felt like sex was something to be taken seriously. Michael wondered briefly if that was a silly, old fashioned belief. Her mouth was soft and warm, and he found himself responding to her and deepening the kiss.Then girl pushed her tongue fully into his mouth. It felt foreign and wrong and Michael pulled his lips away to look down at her. Smiling up at him, she hooked her arm through his, pulling him along the street. As they walked, the girl made small talk, but Michael was so distracted by her lust filled thoughts, he didn’t really bother responding. Entering the apartment, the girl immediately pressed her body close to his, all but shoving him against the closed door. Michael was once again assaulted by images from her mind. She was enamored by the idea of him being the Antichrist and the power that he possessed, but she cared nothing about who Michael was otherwise. Her lips and teeth traveled along his jaw and down his neck, nipping at his skin, fingers sank into his golden curls and pulled at soft strands. The girl’s mind was playing a loop of money, power, fucking, not a single thought of caring or tenderness. Michael shut her thoughts out and told himself it didn’t matter, this was just going to be sex. Seizing his arm, she dragged him down the hall to a bedroom and immediately began stripping off her clothes. Sitting on the foot of the bed, Michael slowly unbuttoned his black shirt. His eyes traveled over her bare skin. She was beautiful and he felt himself growing hard in his pants. Reaching out his hand, Michael went to draw her towards him, but she placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back onto the bed. Straddling his thighs, the girl fell forward to bite and lick the skin of his chest and stomach. Base, perverted, greedy images plunged into his mind once again and Michael had the overwhelming urge to shove her off of him. When she grabbed his cock through his pants before landing on his belt buckle, he seized her wrists and yanked her hands away. Ignoring her pleas, Michael made his way out of her apartment without looking back.

Five days later, Michael had interviewed every resident of Outpost Three except one. He didn’t know why he was putting off meeting with the woman he felt so inexplicably attracted to. Michael had sensed her presence repeatedly, causing a funny tightening in his chest each time, but there had been no other sign of her since that first night. Settling back in Ms. Venable’s chair, he smiled a little as he thought of how irritated she was that Michael had taken over her office. He opened the woman’s file. Her name was Y/N. She had been a graduate student at San Diego State before the bombs fell. As a long time employee of Kineros Robotics, her father had been granted a place in the outpost, along with his only daughter. But her father had never made it to the outpost and his whereabouts were unknown.  She was truly alone here. Michael crossed to open the sliding doors to the office and summoned the young man dressed in grey, who was standing outside.

“Please bring Ms Y/L/N here from the dining room after she finishes dinner,” Michael said.

The young man hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. “Is there a problem?” Michael questioned.

“Um, Ms. Y/L/N isn’t in the dining room, Sir,” he said not daring to meet Michael’s gaze.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Then bring her from wherever she is,” he said impatiently.  

“I’m sorry Sir, but Ms. Venable doesn’t allow  us to talk to Ms. Y/L/N,” the boy answered quietly.

Michael stared at him for a long moment. No one was allowed to speak to Y/N? What the fuck?

“I told you to bring Ms. Y/L/N here. Now go,” Michael said in a deadly, quiet tone.

The young man seemed to weigh his options for a few seconds before scampering off down the hall.

Staring after the boy’s retreating form, Michael wondered why Ms. Venable was ostracizing this woman. A wave of protectiveness washed over Michael as he remembered how Y/N’s face had looked so sad and resigned that first night. Loneliness radiated off her. It was a feeling that Michael was well acquainted with.

Michael took a seat back behind the desk, leaving the doors to the office open. Her presence filled his mind before there was a soft knock against the frame of the door. Rising from his seat, Michael turned to face her. Y/N stood hesitantly on the threshold.

“Ms.Y/L/N, please come in,” he said extending his arm towards the chairs opposite him.

Smoothing the skirt of her long, magenta dress, she sat in the chair closest to the doors. Y/N met his gaze, a calm, unreadable look on her face. Her thoughts were not as calm, as they jumped from one place to another. What interested Michael the most was the question foremost in her mind. She wanted to know who he was and why she felt such a connection to him.

[mvsicbookfrxndom]

I’m back

Okay lovely people, especially the soccer fandom that has stayed with me...

Before I even say a single word, I need to address this. My inbox currently contains 99+ messages. Yes, you heard that right. So if I have not responded to your message in literally months, that is the reason. I deeply, deeply apologize, and I want to stress that I will try to make time for everything and maximize my  time management skills in the future. I have detailed the other reasons for my disappearance below as well.

Now that finals are almost over and I have adjusted more to my new school, I am able to pay more attention and put more effort into my account. These past few months I haven’t been on tumblr at all, and lately I’ve only been liking posts instead of reblogging them or even *gasp* creating my own posts. But I have arisen out of the ashes like a phoenix to say that I will now try to put as much effort into maintaining this blog as I can! I am determined to make it work and balance out my schoolwork, extracurriculars, and social media accounts!

To give you all a glimpse into my life and my responsibilities...

I go to a VERY difficult school with a ton of schoolwork.

I spend most of my time after school participating in a variety of extracurriculars.

It’s a residential school, and the WiFi goes off at 11:30...and I don’t have a hotspot.

Did I mention the workload??!

Not only that! I have other social medias that need maintaining as well.

Facebook (for school)

Instagram (basically to keep up with soccer & Habesha cultural stuff)

Snapchat (to keep up with news of people in my school)

This account (for obvious reasons)

Wattpad (I’ve barely logged on in so long)

Reddit (I LOVE REDDIT OKAY)

Quora (gotta help people get them answers amirite)

Quotev (which is hella dead)

Pinterest (gotta look at them pics)

Imgur (refer to parentheses above)

AO3 (which is basically dead because I haven’t found time to write fanfiction AT ALL)

A fucking DEAD Discord account that to be fair I never use anymore

etc.

My typical day looks like this:

Wake up, go to school, etc.

Call my mother for at least 15 minutes a day. If my sister is able to call me, that’s basically an hour out of my schedule right there.

Finish homework due the next day.

Check texts to see if my parents/in person friends have texted me.

Check Facebook and Messenger to stay in touch with school things.

Watch Snapchat and Instagram stories for the latest topical news.

Usually, by the time all that has been finished, it is already 11:30 and my time is completely gone. It makes me so mad.

After doing all that, I start working on homework due the next day. The grind pretty much never stops. I’m pretty sure it will only stop after finals, and even then only temporarily. However, I am so willing to grind my ass off in order to reclaim my life.

I’m so profoundly upset and saddened by the number of online friends I have lost due to the mental, physical, and psychological stresses that have been put on me ever since I entered school. They think the reason I have disappeared is because I don’t care about them, but that is not it at all whatsoever. I love them far more than I could ever love myself. My love for them is so deep and I wish I could cut out my heart from my chest so they could see it bleed for them. I hope they know who they are as they read this, if they read this. It has been such a difficult adjustment in my life for me that I’ve basically cut off all ties just so I can stay successful. My grades have been slipping and I’m so terrified that I won’t be able to pay for my college education because I can’t get scholarships with Bs on my transcript because of the astronomical amount of competition. In general, I’m just...really scared.

My mental health has severely deteriorated ever since an incident occurred to me over the summer, close after the end of school. I think that is why the World Cup and soccer had such an effect on me - I was so lost, and needed something in my life that would make me happy and make life worth living again, and that was soccer, right there in its beautiful glory for me to fall in love with and feel love again. However, I am determined not to let the darkness win. I HAVE to fight back. It is the only way I can reclaim everything I have lost.

Here are my goals for the future. I want to share them with you all. So that they’re out there in the world and I have no choice but to commit.

Finish ALL my homework and STUDY.

Start a YouTube channel containing my song covers.

I put these in bullet points because these are running goals, so they’re in progress.

Send my sister all of her photos. I’m an asshole for making her wait this long. I’m an asshole for making all of you wait this long.

Respond to all 99+ inbox messages I’ve received. (I’m so sorry, all of you. I will reply, I swear. Just give me time. I know you already have.)

Respond to all my Wattpad messages.

Respond to all my emails on all of my accounts and clean up all of my email accounts, especially when it comes to writing emails to my business card people plaguing my phone!

Organize all of my photos and upload them to either my Drive or Google Photos so I can blissfully mass delete them and gain a sense of purpose, fulfillment, and indescribable joy.

Eliminate all of the open incognito tabs on my phone.

Organize both of my Google Drives, especially their folders and individual docs.

Clean up my Spotify ffs!!!

Finish my Very Long Fanfic Project.

Write other fanfics that I’ve been planning to write for such a long time, before I either lose inspiration or forget about them altogether. Making sure they are oneshots and not Very Long Fanfic Projects so they’ll, like, actually get written finished.

Reorganize and revolutionize my tumblr page so it is more clean with better tags. Also maybe change its HTML/CSS up so it’s more lit.

Fix all of my old Wattpad accounts, the ones that weren’t my main account. I feel like some people were counting on those.

Finish all of my old fanfics. Every single one that I started and never quite completed (on AO3 AND Wattpad).

Resurrect my Quora, Quotev, and Reddit accounts from the internet grave. They are pretty much my ultimate failed experiments.

Begin doing research on internships, colleges, and career choices, as well as interests and hobbies or stuff you’d like to learn how to do.

Start writing my own original works - including, but not limited to - books, short stories, poems, songs, raps, editorial articles, essays, and film scripts.

Finish Mr. Robot, Hannibal, and Sherlock.

Watch SKAM Austin.

Start watching movies.

As you can see, this is a very long ass list. I know it will take a long time. I know it will not be easy. But sometimes, writing things down and realizing how difficult they will be to accomplish is the first step in actually fixing them. I hope I can.

thanks for coming to my ted talk everyone. please dm me if you have any questions with what i said above. i love you all.

[verfound]

Beetlejuice Ficlet: 12 June 2019

So throughout June I was doing a Prompt a Day writing exercise.  I’ve been posting them in groups on Ao3, but I haven’t been posting them on Tumblr because a.) I don’t normally post full fics on Tumblr and 2.) because I’ve been posting them in groups by fandom I didn’t wanna spam the blog with four ficlets in a row.

But out of all of them, this one was my favorite, and I wanted to share.  There were four total for BJ, and the rest can be found on Ao3.

Prompt: Tight-Knit Fandom: Beetlejuice Character/Pairing: Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz Rating: M / PG-16 / Teen Notes: Deals with mass shootings and hardcore character death, though not in a graphic way.  Rating more for language.  June is a month of goodbyes and partings.

“So what do you think happens now?”

He was halfway through conjuring a cigarette when she asked.  His eyes slid over to her to find she was staring up at the moon.  It was almost full.

 “What d’ya mean, what happens now?” he asked.  Scoffed, really.  It was a ridiculous question.

 “I graduated today, BJ,�� she said, running a hand along the spider silk of her dress to flatten it.  As if pointing out the fancy clothes would accentuate her point.  “I leave for college in two months.  Like it or not, things are gonna change.”

 “Says who?  They don’t have to,” he grumbled.  He took an extra-long drag of his cigarette to avoid saying anything else.  This was all getting dangerously close to sentimental for him, and that just made him want to vomit.

 “They have to,” she said. “It’s not like I can take you to school. I’ll have a roommate, Beej.  No summoning in the dorms.”

 “Betty always fit in fine around here,” he scoffed.  “Colleges are full of freaks.  I’ll blend in no problem.”

 “Even if you can visit, it won’t be the same.  No more popping off to the Neitherworld whenever we like.  No more random appearing in my mirror.  It won’t be like this again,” she sighed.  She leaned against his pinstriped shoulder, and he frowned down at her.

 “Like this?” he asked.

 “Like this,” she said, nodding. “Just us.  You’re my best friend, Beetlejuice.”

 “Easy on the B-word, babes,” he chuckled.  He nudged her a bit with his shoulder before flicking his cigarette off the roof. Those things would kill him, anyways. “And what are you going on about? Nothing has to change.  It’ll still be you and me, babes.  You and me against the living and Neitherworld.”

 “I’m cold, BJ,” she sighed. He wrapped an arm around her but doubted it would do much good.  “And tired. Maybe I’m just talking crazy…but I don’t want us to change.”

 “Hey, c’mon, now,” he said, shaking her slightly.  He glanced down at the field below before looking back at her.  “Stay with me.”

 “I can’t, though,” she mumbled. The space behind them flickered, and Juno appeared.  He glared at the look she was giving him.  He didn’t want her damn sympathy.  “That’s what I was just telling you.  I’m leaving town, and you can’t come with me.  Sure, I’ll be back on breaks, but it won’t be the same. College is going to change everything, Beej.”

 God, but this whole fucking town was cursed.

 “I don’t think college is what’s going to change everything, babes,” he said, and she followed his gaze to the flashing lights below.  To Charles, holding an inconsolable Delia, as he confirmed that yes, the graduate on the stretcher was his daughter.  There were so many stretchers, so many ambulances, so many cops…

 “…oh,” she mumbled, and he sighed as Juno sat next to her.  Didn’t the bitch have anyone else to bother?

 “Tragic, when it goes down like this,” Juno said, conjuring her own cigarette.  “You always hope they off themselves in the privacy of their own bedrooms instead of making a public spectacle like this.  Twenty-six of the graduating class dead, not counting the shooter.  That’s a shit-ton of paperwork.”

 “Juno,” he said, tightening his grip on Lydia’s strangely still shoulders.  Not even a shiver.  Hadn’t she been complaining of being cold?  He wondered if she was going into shock.  If it was even possible.

 “What happens now?” Lydia asked. Her voice sounded smaller than he was used to.  He didn’t like it.

 “Well, Miss Deetz, you are a special case,” Juno said glibly.  “We’ve been expecting you for a while now, so most of your paperwork is already done. Fast-tracked, if you will.”

 “Fast-tracked?” Lydia parroted, and he growled at Juno.  Expecting this?  Expecting this?  That pencil-pushing son of a –

 “So just sign here, and I’ll release you to the custody of your friend here,” Juno continued, handing a stack of papers and a pen to Lydia.  She signed them robotically, expression blank, and Juno grinned as she took them back.  “So sorry for your loss, dear, and enjoy your afterlife.  Beetlejuice, take care of her.”

 “BJ?” Lydia asked after Juno had disappeared in a puff of greenish smoke.  Her eyes were still wide, glassy.  “What do you think happens now?”

 He had no fucking clue.

[emmagreen1220-blog]

New Post has been published on Mythology.net

New Post has been published on http://mythology.net/mythical-creatures/mothman/

Mothman

It was the year 1966 when a strange creature surfaced in the small town of Point Pleasant, West Virginia. This creature was described as being at least 7 feet tall, with a humanoid body and a wingspan at least 10 feet in length. Its distinguishing feature? Two red glowing eyes that terrified anyone who saw them. For the next year, this strange moth-like creature continued to terrorize the residents of Point Pleasant. Thus, the legend of the Mothman was born.

Who is Mothman?

Mothman is a large creature thought to inhabit the TNT area located just outside of Point Pleasant, West Virginia. This winged creature first appeared on November 12, 1966 in front of five men who were digging a grave in Clendenin, West Virginia (approximately 1 hour and 20 minutes away from Point Pleasant).

Just three days later, on November 15, two couples going for a night-time drive through the TNT area spotted the creature again. Terrified, they sped off at over 100 miles per hour, but the strange being had no trouble keeping up with them. The couples were chased back into town, where they reported their sighting to Deputy Sheriff Millard Halstead.

The next day, Deputy Halstead and the couples held a press conference at the city courthouse to share the story. It was then that the creature was named ‘Mothman’ because of its strange appearance. Later that night, another famous sighting occurred when Marcella Bennett drove to a friend’s house, which happened to be located inside the TNT area. When she got out of the car with her baby, she was startled as a large creature started to come out of the shadows near her car. Her fright caused her to drop her young child, though she quickly recovered from her shock. She picked up the baby, ran inside, and quickly locked the doors. Mothman climbed onto the porch and peered through the windows at the family, but disappeared before the police arrived.

Over the next few months, Mothman terrorized the town. Nearly 100 people came forward with eyewitness reports between November 1966 and December 1967. During this time, the town of Point Pleasant also experienced paranormal and possibly extraterrestrial activity that was thought to be somehow linked to Mothman.

Characteristics

Physical Description

Those who saw Mothman claim that he was a large, grey, humanoid type creature with massive wings. He is thought to stand between 5 and 7 feet tall with a 10-foot wing span. Mothman’s head is described as being oddly shaped, and sitting close to the creature’s body. Some people even describe him as being headless, with only two eyes protruding above his torso. Additionally, his bright-red glowing eyes are said to be extremely large.

Mothman is also capable of incredible flying capabilities. The couple who saw him the night of November 15, 1966 outside of the TNT area said he was able to keep up with their car at 100 miles per hour without flapping his wings. He is also capable of weaving quickly in between dense forest areas and rising straight into the sky like a helicopter. These flight patterns are beyond our current capabilities with solo-flight devices like jetpacks, causing many people to disregard the possibility of a prank.

Personality

Though many people are divided on the nature of the Mothman, it has been noted that the creature has never harmed a human being during its encounters. This has caused many believers to think that the Mothman means no harm, but instead tries to warn people of impending danger with its presence. This was later evidenced further with the collapse of the Silver Bridge, as many witnesses claimed to see the Mothman on the bridge just before it fell.

Others make arguments for the creature’s evil nature, and cite the disappearance of Newell Partridge’s dog and the ancient legend of Chief Cornstalk as evidence. It is their belief that the Mothman is a creature of danger and chaos who seeks to put humans in dangerous situations.

Origin Theories

Alien Creature

Many people claim to have witnessed UFO sightings and paranormal experiences during Mothman’s time in Point Pleasant, leading many to believe that Mothman could be an extraterrestrial creature. The arrival of the mysterious Indrid Cold (also known as ‘The Grinning Man’) seems to give this theory foundation.

On November 2, 1966 (10 days before the first Mothman sighting), Woodrow Derenberger was driving back to his home in Mineral Wells, West Virginia when he was cut off by what he thought was a car. The vehicle forced him to slow down and then pull over on the side of the road. When he got closer, he realized that the contraption was not a car, but a strange craft that resembled a ‘kerosene lamp chimney.’

A figure then exited the craft and walked to his car. The figure looked very human in appearance and was wearing a coat that was a metallic blue color. He spoke to Woodrow and told him that he meant him no harm. Strangely, the man did not move his lips and his mouth remained fixed in its smile—which later led people to call him ‘The Grinning Man.’ Woodrow realized that the man was speaking to him telepathically.

The man introduced himself as Indrid Cold and told Woodrow that he was from a different galaxy. They conversed for nearly 10 minutes before the strange man returned to his craft. Before he left, he told Woodrow to report his experience to the authorities. Woodrow’s story was published and corroborated by several witnesses who saw him pulled over on the road and talk to a strange man. Several of the witnesses were even able to describe the odd craft.

Others who saw the Mothman were questioned by strange ‘Men in Black’ with pale, translucent skin. They were asked if they had witnessed the Mothman and (if so) what they had specifically seen. Many people reported that they talked in a strange, almost robotic tone that made them nervous. Anyone who was questioned and who had, in fact, seen something related to the Mothman was told to remain quiet on the subject. Several of the witnesses received anonymous threatening phone calls that warned them not to speak about the Mothman. Extraterrestrial enthusiasts claim that the descriptions of these strange men match those of an alien species.

The sightings of these strange men combined with the Mothman leads many to believe that the Mothman may be an extraterrestrial creature that somehow found its way to Earth.

Mutated Monster

Others who believe in the Mothman prefer a more scientific approach. Their theories about the Mothman’s origins are largely influenced by the home of the creature: the TNT area.

The TNT area was constructed during World War II. It was situated near a large wildlife preservation area, ensuring that the area was remote and rarely frequented. The TNT area is comprised of many miles of igloo-type concrete domes. The military used these spaces to create and store weapons of mass destruction. After the war, the site was abandoned. Many toxic substances from the weapons that were stored leaked out into the surrounding forest area.

There are some that believe that the Mothman was affected by these chemicals. They believe that somehow a creature’s DNA was fused with toxic chemicals and somehow mutated into a strange, humanoid creature. Those who believe this think Mothman is our own doing and believe we should deal with the consequences accordingly.

Vengeful Curse

Still others believe Mothman is the embodiment of a 200-year-old curse. This curse can be traced back to the death of Chief Cornstalk and several of his tribesman. Chief Keigh-tugh-gua (which is translated to cornstalk) wanted peace with the American colonists who were trying to occupy the land of seven different Native American nations. Unfortunately, there were many on both sides who opposed this idea.

On November 7, 1777, Chief Cornstalk traveled to a fort in an area called Point Pleasant and tried to engage in peace talks with the colonists to prevent fighting. He insisted that peace was necessary because the British were trying to convince the other nations to join with them to oppose the colonists and that only he and his tribe stood in their way. However, he feared he could not hold them back much longer. Fearful, the colonists took him and his companions prisoner and detained them inside their fort. Chief Cornstalk was considered to be a skilled fighter and military genius and was greatly respected by both sides. By detaining him, the colonists hoped that they could prevent the Native Americans from attacking. Two days later (November 9, 1777) Chief Cornstalk’s son, Ellinipisco, visited the fort to see his father and was also detained.

On November 10, 1777, gunfire was heard near the Kanawha River. When soldiers from the fort went to investigate, they found that two men who had left to hunt for deer had been ambushed by Native Americans. One was dead. Enraged, the soldiers burst into the quarters of Chief Cornstalk and his companions and brutally murdered them as revenge.

As he laid dying on the ground, Chief Cornstalk is said to have uttered a curse on the land in which he died. He spoke the following words:

“I was the border man’s friend. Many times I have saved him and his people from harm. I never warred with you, but only to protect our wigwams and lands. I refused to join your paleface enemies with the red coats. I came to the fort as your friend and you murdered me. You have murdered by my side, my young son…. For this, may the curse of the Great Spirit rest upon this land. May it be blighted by nature. May it even be blighted in its hopes. May the strength of its peoples be paralyzed by the stain of our blood.”

Strange events occurred later in history, such as a lightning bolt that twice destroyed a monument erected in honor of the colonists who fought for the Ohio River Valley. When the Mothman appeared in Point Pleasant, West Virginia, many people were convinced that he was yet another punishment set upon the land from the angered spirit of Chief Cornstalk.

Sightings

The Collapse of the Xiaon Te Dam

Surprisingly, the first sighting of the Mothman may be traced back 40 years before he appeared in Point Pleasant. The beginning of January 1926 opened with the appearance of a strange creature in Southeastern China. The locals described this creature as a ‘man dragon’ that could frequently be seen hovering over the Xiaon Te Dam.

On January 19, 1926, the Xiaon Te Dam collapsed, releasing nearly 40 billion gallons of water into the surrounding farms in the valley. The death toll is estimated to be well over 15,000, though many of records of this disaster have since been destroyed.

November 12 to November 16, 1966

On November 12, 1966, the Mothman was first sighted flying over a cemetery by five men who were digging a grave late at night. They described the creature they saw as man-like figure who could fly.

Three days later, on the night of November 15, 1966, Newell Partridge’s dog started growling at a creature outside. Partridge heard an odd noise and went outside to investigate with a flashlight. He was startled to discover the Mothman. Partridge quickly tried to call his dog back into the house, but the dog (who was a trained hunting dog) darted off into the night. Partridge ran into the house to grab his rifle and go after his dog, but was too scared to go back outside. He never saw the dog again.

The same night, two married couples were taking a late-night drive out of Point Pleasant to the TNT area. They saw a large dog carcass on the side of the road on their way out. Upon reaching the TNT area, they saw a large, winged humanoid with glowing red eyes. The creature chased them back into town and managed to keep up with them even though they were speeding at 100 miles per hour. As they drove back into town, they noticed that the dog’s carcass was gone. They went back to look for it later but it was never found. Many believe the dog’s carcass was Newell Partridge’s hunting dog.

On the night of the 16th, Marcella Bennett was driving to a friend’s house at night. She got out of the car with her baby and was startled as she saw the Mothman rise up next to her car. She was so startled that she dropped her baby. She quickly recovered however, and rushed inside with her child and locked the doors. The Mothman reportedly walked up the steps of the porch and peered into the house with its glowing red eyes. By the time the police arrived to investigate, it had disappeared.

Hundreds of other sightings would be reported during this time, though these are the most notable.

The Collapse of the Silver Bridge

On December 15, 1967 the Silver Bridge collapsed during rush hour traffic. In the hours before the collapse (and even during the event) many witnesses claimed to have seen the Mothman atop the bridge. The collapse was devastating, and 46 people lost their lives as their cars were plunged into the river below. The Mothman was never seen in Point Pleasant again.

The Collapse of the Freiburg Mine

On the morning of September 10, 1978, a group of miners was heading to work in Freiburg, Germany, when they were confronted by a strange man in a trench coat. When they got closer, they realized it wasn’t a man, but a strange creature with huge wings. It appeared to have no head, but had large glowing red eyes on what seemed to be its chest. They stood in the entrance of the mine staring at the creature until it let out a terrifying scream that made them turn and run away from the mine. An hour later, the mine collapsed.

Chernobyl

Throughout the year of 1985, many scientists, workers, and citizens who lived near the power plant in Chernobyl, Ukraine, saw a large bird-like creature with the body of a man flying around the nuclear plant. They claimed this terrifying creature had glowing red eyes.

On April 26, 1986, the creature was spotted before a huge explosion that became one of the most famous nuclear accidents in history. Witnesses also saw the creature flying through the smoke and wreckage after the horrifying event.

9/11 and the Twin Towers

Several days before the terrible attack on September 11, 2001, several people saw a strange flying creature near the Twin Towers. Those who saw the attack report that the same creature was flying parallel to the second plane as it hit the tower.

The Collapse of the I-35 Bridge

At the end of June in 2007, reports of Mothman began surfacing in Minnesota. The reports were concentrated in Minneapolis, the surrounding areas, and the I-35 Bridge itself. After a month of sightings, the bridge collapsed on August 1, 2007. The collapse was devastating, killing 13 people and injuring 145 others.

The Swine Flu Outbreak

Residents in La Junta, Mexico began seeing a large, black, red-eyed creature in 2009. The creature reportedly stalked the town just before the swine flu outbreak that devastated the area. Several witnesses report being terrified by its screaming, and one was even chased by the creature. Local authorities searched for evidence of the creature, but it was never found.

Fukushima

Two witnesses were out near Japan’s Fukushima power plant in March 2011 when they heard a loud screech. They turned back to see a creature sitting on top of the Fukushima plant. It suddenly unfurled its wings and began to fly towards them. They were horrified by a pair of glowing red eyes that were looking right at them, but the creature disappeared soon after.

Shortly after the creature appeared to them, Fukushima was devastated by an earthquake and the nuclear power plant the witnesses walked by exploded.

Related Characters

In ancient lore and mythology, there are many mentions of doom prophets and winged creatures that match the description of Mothman.

Assyrian mythology speaks of a demon named Pazuzu. He was the king of the demons of the wind and represented the southwest wind. He is often described as having a combination of human and animal parts, as well as having massive wings. However, despite being evil in nature, Pazuzu protects humans from plagues and misfortune.

Greek mythology also gives us Thanatos. Thanatos is a large winged god that personifies death. He appeared to humans when the time they had been given by the Fates had run out, and carried them to the Underworld.

Explanation of the Myth

As sightings of this cryptid continue into present day, many people wonder if the Mothman is more than a myth that haunts the town of Point Pleasant. There seems to be no consensus on whether the creature means harm towards human, though it can be agreed that sightings of the Mothman seem to precede tragedies and loss of life.

[atticusblog2016-blog]

New Post has been published on Atticusblog

New Post has been published on https://atticusblog.com/millions-of-pakistanis-get-messages-warning-against-blasphemy/

Millions of Pakistanis get messages warning against blasphemy

Millions of Pakistanis had been receiving textual content messages from the authorities warning them against sharing “blasphemous” content material on-line, a move rights activists said might inspire greater vigilante assaults.

It comes amid a surge in mob violence connected to accusations of insulting Islam which include three attacks within the past month

“Uploading & sharing of blasphemous content on the Internet is a punishable offense under the regulation. Such content needs to be pronounced on information@pta.Gov.Pk for legal action,” read the SMS despatched by way of the Pakistan Telecommunication Authority (PTA) to all mobile cell phone subscribers.

A comparable is aware become posted at the enterprise’s website in Urdu

A PTA spokesperson stated the agency turned into appearing on a court docket order.

Blasphemy is an extremely touchy problem in conservative Muslim Pakistan, with unproven allegations leading to dozens of mob assaults or murders on the grounds that 1990. The law was at the start inherited from Pakistan’s former colonial masters Britain, but reinforced with the aid of former dictator Zia-ul-Haq in 1986 to consist of a provision for capital punishment in instances of insulting the Prophet Muhammad.

Activists stated the initiative would probably inspire lynchings, together with the killing of a 23-year-old student known for his liberal perspectives on the hands of loads of fellow students last month.

“This mass messaging will handiest similarly gasoline hatred amongst one-of-a-kind sects and segments of the society. It is a very very awful circulate,” virtual rights activist Shahzad Ahmad told AFP.

“PTA’s mass texting on ‘blasphemy’ smacks of insincerity & political exploitation of religion; it’s going to embolden public to extra violence!,” tweeted famous television anchor Moeed Pirzada.

Last week a 10-12 months-vintage boy become killed and 5 others were wounded when a mob attacked a police station in an try to lynch a Hindu guy charged with blasphemy for allegedly posting an incendiary photograph on social media.

Weeks in advance a mob attacked a mentally sick guy claiming to be a prophet at his nearby mosque. He changed into later stored by using the police.

The difficulty of blasphemy got here to the fore in January when 5 secular activists known for their outspoken perspectives against nonsecular extremism and the powerful army disappeared, presumed to be abducted by using country companies, in step with opposition events and global rights organizations.

How to Rack Up Millions of Miles

If only you’re a millionaire, perhaps then you can come up with the money for to tour around the sector in luxurious. Travel fees have been at the upward push these days and it seems daunting to hunt for something that falls beneath your finances but does not threaten your comforts.

Using air miles is, in reality, the nice way out of this. Racking up miles might appear like a lifelong challenge, however, there are lots of ways you could do it easily. Travel hacking over the past decade has made me come to the realization that miles may be easily earned in large quantities. Here’s how!

1. Flying around the world

Let’s check the most apparent of those. The extra you fly, the extra miles you earn. When you fly greater, quite a few possibilities open up for you instantly and you discover better approaches to redeem air miles via the partners. But your mile gains do not stop here. There are plenty of other approaches miles can be earned apart from getting a aircraft price tag.

2. A Co-Branded Credit Card

If there is one way you can emerge as a Mileage Millionaire that honestly needs to be investing in a co-branded credit card. You’ll locate plenty of alternatives, however, choose the precise one in opposition to your program requires in-depth studies. Not all of these could work well in step with your desires.

Firstly, the signup bonuses are quite extraordinary. Even after that, any spending through your credit score card robotically provides to your mileage account. If you want to earn an incredible quantity of miles quick, applying for a couple of playing cards works well. When you sign up for the credit score card, make certain which you are not paying a hefty annual fee or any more prices.

3. Eating and Drinking

How cool is that! Probably the perfect, and through ways, the most favorite approaches to racking up air miles is thru consuming and ingesting at the dining packages affiliated with the common flyer application. Every program has one, and although you may power out of the way to search for one, it’s miles a promising way to earn more miles. With eating out, you aren’t doing something beyond your comfort degree. Even in case you are doing out on a dinner where anybody swimming pools, be only to pay through the credit score card. It may be worth it!

4. Buy Miles

There can be times wherein no matter all that you’ve finished earning miles; you’re nonetheless brief of some to make your journey dreams come authentic. What happens next? You put off your plans for a better time that seldom comes.

Airlines regularly make it difficult to earn air miles. To do the great at times is to shop for miles via dependable assets. This often works out manner less expensive than in case you were to get an enterprise class fare for the entire fee.

Deleted Text Messages and Cheating Spouses

Of all the emails that I get asking about clues points to cheating, text messages are via ways the maximum not unusual topic. People want to know if deleted textual content messages are a sign that shows probably cheating. They need to recognize if they are able to study texts that have been deleted. And, they need to understand if there may be any logical and legitimate reason that an innocent spouse could need to delete texts that are absolutely appropriate. I will talk all of this stuff inside the following article.

Why Text Messages Can Be A Cheater’s Best Friend: Spouses who cheat love generation. They specifically love text messages due to the fact it’s far and smooth, cheap, and immediate manner to connect with or speak with the individual that they are cheating with. (They love picture messages also.) There’s something playful and inviting approximately sending a text or image and getting a nearly on the spot response. Plus, you could right away delete something which you don’t need your partner to study.

View my text messages

Almost anyone has a cellular phone today and maximum people carry them with us everywhere we pass. So, it is now not all that suspicious on your spouse to be sporting one with them and/or messaging and checking electronic mail on it. This is a behavior that they desire and anticipate will not convey your interest to their cheating.

But what they do not anticipate is that usually, even the maximum laid again partner will finally suspect that something is wrong or off. And, as soon as that little voice inside the lower back of the trustworthy partner’s head starts to speak and ask questions, then unexpectedly they’re noticing every out of vicinity or recurrent or immoderate behaviors – and that includes your mobile.show my inbox messages.

Plus, even if the cheating partner is very careful to hide their texting, that is the logical first location that maximum suspicious spouses are going to appearance. Other than your electronic mail and net trash can and recycle bin, your textual content message out, in, or despatched container is one of the first logical locations to test.

Inbox 2 messages

Why A Deleted Text Message Doesn’t Mean That You Can’t Catch Their Cheating. You Can Usually Read These: The very crafty and sneaky partner will typically assume that they have gotten rid of all evidence of their beside the point texts by merely hitting delete. This can give them a fake experience of safety and they may maintain right on messaging to and fro and leaving a path even though they count on they are flawlessly secure.

But, hitting delete is not the stop of the story

There is software to be able to get those texts and snapshots back and allow which will examine and notice them without a password or even if they’ve been erased for a long term. This may be very very useful because typically all the gloves are off in those messages. Since the dishonest partner assumes that this message is deleted all the time, they communicate freely. This is precisely what you need to read.

I understand that now and again spouses will swear that their deleting their texts is perfectly harmless. They will tell you that they have been just cleaning out their documents and leaving a room. Or they will inform you that they simply wanted to get rid of things from paintings which might be old now. Well, any reasonable latest cellular phone will automatically delete messages as soon as the files get full. This is genuine of even the most inexpensive smartphone.

Hives – They May Be A Warning Signal!

If you’re like most of my patients, you’ve got probable skilled an outbreak of hives at least as soon as on your life. They are fairly not unusual responses to something you came in touch with that you had been either slightly, or badly, allergic to in food, medication, or something in your environments like dirt, pollen, weeds, and insect chew. They can affect each person, young or vintage, and show no preference for race or gender. They may even be brought on by using pressure or extra perspiration!

They appear as raised pink welts that resemble a mosquito bite and might itch or burn. They normally display up in clusters of 2 or more and are an end result of the frame liberating histamine – a chemical agent your body produces whilst it comes in contact with something foreign and/or simply doesn’t like. Let me share some important information about hives as they may be a crucial caution sign to you!

Types of Hives

There are numerous styles of hives that you need to be aware of in case of a virus. They include:

Weather warnings and watches

•Acute urticaria – these are the hives that the majority get most frequently. They are raised, little crimson bumps on the skin that itch. They are generally very short-lived in their outbreak, and can be due to a few food (chocolate, eggs, nuts, fish, clean berries, uncooked produce, milk) or pills (ibuprofen, high blood stress medication, ache killers like codeine), an insect bite, or a few illness (just like the flu). •Chronic urticaria – this type of hives is longer lasting and may be accompanied via diarrhea, shortness of breath, and sore muscles. The actual motive of this form of hives is regularly unknown and can be a symptom of an underlying illness. •Physical urticaria – those hives seem approximately 1 hour after physical stimulation to the skin from bloodless, warmth, vibration or strain, or rubbing towards the region. •Dermatographism – these hives form after some deliberate touching or scratching of the pores and skin.

Treatments for Hives/Angioedema

When I even have sufferers are available in with a virulent disease of hives, remedy with an antihistamine is the first order. Hives are typically innocent however imply that the frame is touchy, and/or allergic, to something contacted. Some hypersensitive reactions on the first presentation are mild with maybe simply hives/itching as a symptom. If this initial presentation is omitted and left undiagnosed, you can are available in contact with this agent again and feature a far more excessive 2nd-time response, or even anaphylaxis, an intense, allergy.noaa warnings and watches.

For instance, an affected person of mine had to go through an x-ray of her kidneys wherein they had to inject comparison dye. A few moments after receiving the evaluation injection she started out to increase hives on her face and arms. The radiologist stopped the check right away and referred her to a dermatologist who examined her for comparison dye hypersensitivity. It became found that, certainly, she did have an extreme hypersensitivity to the iodine in assessment dye that she become not conscious that she had. In this way, hives are the frame’s warning indicators that you can have anywhere from just a normal allergic reaction to a life-threatening one!

Another patient broke out in hives on his face on every occasion he cleaned his residence! Again, after allergic reaction checking out, it was shown that he had a moderate/mild reaction to dirt mites (which many human beings do). Very crucial is to determine, if viable, the cause of the hives on the time they break out, especially in case you get away in a pattern. A distinctive question and solution session between you and your medical doctor may be vital to tease out the purpose of your hives.

The best treatment for averting an endemic of hives is to avoid contact with the supply of the reaction within the destiny. However, like my affected person with the dust mite hypersensitivity, it is not continually feasible to avoid the allergen, particularly in public. So, commonly an as-wanted treatment with antihistamines is in all likelihood what your medical doctor will recommend.tornado watch vs warning.

Depending on the severity of your hypersensitivity, antihistamine products can variety from over the counter antihistamines along with the old, favored well known, Benadryl (diphenhydramine), to other prescription antihistamines. You may be able to take those simply at the time the hives arise or may also be on a low, continual dose, to make sure that the hives outbreak is suppressed. My affected person with the dust mite allergy consists of an over the counter % of Benadryl on him to take whilst wanted.

While looking ahead to the hives to clean, you may follow cool compresses, or maybe ice wrapped inside a washcloth, to the affected areas. This will assist take out the edge and itch as well as shrink the hives to provide you some alleviation.

[shesaidwithirony]

La Repubblica interview on Social Media in the Trump Era

Questions from Luciana Grosso (La Repubblica)

Luciana Grosso: What’s next? What is coming after the social network era? What will arrive after this social-mania, if it will ever end?

Geert Lovink: I do not mind to act like a futurologist but I have to disappoint you: we’ll be stuck in this social media age for some time to come. We Europeans failed to develop alternatives. There is no ‘market’ and we all let it happen: crippling monopolies are a fact, we’ve locked ourselves in and now we complain. Unless there’s going to be a global crisis or war, we will not able to free ourselves from the ‘tremendous’ addiction to these real-time apps. I have given up that individuals who make the courageous exodus will make a difference. Boredom or dispear won’t make a difference either; the physical, social and emotional dependency is already too big. We were naive to think that users would move on, as they did from Geocities to Blogger to Friendster to MySpace. Then it stopped at Facebook. Youngsters migrated to Whatsapp and Instagram, but these are owned by the same old Facebook Corp. and are currently being integrated into the same data empire. What’s left is the proposal of a public takeover of platforms (including the datacentre infrastructure). This a political proposal we need to further discuss and put on the table in this year of crucial elections.

For decades European elites deliberately looked away, convinced that the internet was a fad, a fashion that would fade away, and now they have been pushed to the sides. Brussels thought telcos such as Orange and Telefonica, and traditional technology players such as Philips and Siemens would develop alternatives. Nothing happened. Instead, we’re using hardware produced in China with services controlled in the United States. Lately Europeans have woken up and have installed austerity-driven neo-liberal ‘creative industries’ policies that try to foster start-up cultures. Ever since Evgene Morozov we know that techno-solutionism is not the answer. Developing an app is not a solution to overcome platform capitalism. For the social media drama it might already be too late, unless drastic measures are taken that implements anti-trust measures overnight.

LG: In the beginning, Internet was seen as a utopian place where the only rule was ‘no rules’: everyone was free to say and write and read whatever they wanted. Was this in fact the case at the time?

GL: There is no doubt that 1990s internet culture was more wild. But I am not nostalgic. There were far less users. The user base was homogeneous and the interfaces and operating systems didn’t work very well. These days we’re not often confronted anymore with crashing devices. Instead, dysfunctionality has moved to the level of society. The smoothness of today comes with a price. Jaron Lanier often points at the anarchic nature of individual homepages—a far cry from the standardized communication environments of Facebook and Twitter. Why learn Linux or XML anymore as an ordinary user? This overall loss of technical knowledge amongst users has lead to crisis in media literacy. The idea is that we do not need anymore instruction. All platforms are self-evident for a child—and this is what we actually see happening around us. This is also the case of moderation. That’s an art form: how to run a community, to overcome differences and structures debates (without policing them). One of the sources of the problem here is the lack of tools to develop communities. Social media are not built for that, on purpose. They are outward-looking with the aim to connect as much data with other data with the aim to sell the profiles to third parties for advertisement purposes. Everyone knows that social media is an alienating echo chamber and fosters narcissism as a necessary act in the struggle for self promotion. In the end, empowerment is not satisfying. We need a cold restart, from scratch, and build peer-to-peer networks that focus on collaboration and discussion, not just on ‘news’ that ‘shared’ and commented by ‘friends’. This has already been said time and again, but nothing happens. That’s how we got stuck. Many feel that way. That’s the disillusion of the internet, which is no longer a progressive tool nor a parallel reality but an abyss that takes us down further into a state of inequality, fear and hatred.

LG: How did that happen, a place celebrated for freedom becoming so dark, filled with lies, violence and fascism? Is this jungle what freedom looks like?

GL: I have not lost my belief in freedom and subversion. Let’s go back to Erich Fromm’s Fear of Freedom. There is so much fascinating literature that we can read together. Take Hannah Ahrendt, or Isaiah Berlin’s Two Concepts of Liberty. Promote such thinkers and contrast them with the libertarian dogma’s of Ayn Rand that is being promoted so much these days. Which freedom do we want? Many of us have second thoughts when it comes to radical openness. We can’t deal with the ‘open society’ and intuitively search for a ‘New Order’ as Michael Seemann, the Berlin ‘Kontrollverlust’ blogger and author of Digital Tailspin, calls it. What comes after radical transparency? Will we find a new equilibrium after the dust has settled? Do we withdrawal in a new cult of secrecy, as Byung Chul-Han in his Transparency Society proposes? Will we ever get used to the bright light of over-exposure, to put in terms of Jean Baudrillard? I would love to answer your question in an orthodox psycho-analytical way. Why do we want to punish ourselves after a period of excessive communication and radical freedom? How can we escape this vicious circle of orgy and remorse? Where is the psycho-historian Lloyd deMause, now that we need him? Who updates his epic book on Reagan’s America?

LG: Should we be afraid of fake news? Lies and the manipulation of the truth have always been around, ever since the times of Moses. Why is this suddenly a problem?

GL: As you say,  fake news has always been core business, it’s was once called ‘manufacturing consent’ or ‘public relations’. As Morozov tweets: “Messing with the media, celebrities, facts, etc does not really get in the way of getting the job done – for Trump, it’s *the* job.” Our problem is the ‘authenticity bonus’  of direct communication. We do not see the social media managers that operate behind their dashboards (as Douglas Rushkoff teaches us). Why the fake news question did not come earlier has got to do with moment in which social media became mainstream. Until recent, the Net was still looked upon as something unknown and new, at best an additional toy. Experts talked about multi-media as if it was some sort of symphony, a media concert in search for harmony between all the different channels. But the liberal ‘multimodality’ view of ‘remediation’ has been blasted away by the directness and real-time of social media.

Now that the introductory period of ‘digitization’ has come to an end, we are exposed to an unprecedented form of acceleration.  In the original idea of networked democracy it was assumed that the multiplicity of channels would lead to a greater diversity of voices. This did not materialize and it would be useful to reconstruct where precisely the process derailed. In classic internet fashion, things move fast, and that will also be the case with the fake news meme itself, which will be overruled by even more spectacular propaganda acts, pseudo-events–and historical tragedies.

LG: Is preventive censorship a solution?

GL: In past weeks we see that the  ‘perception management’ industry is busy figuring out which ‘anti-missile missiles’ they should invent to calm down the media frenzy. A Minority Report technique to isolate evil behaviour might work on the individual level but is no longer effective once the political upheaval has already started. Facebook is entirely naive as they still believe in filtering of ‘fake news’ by temporary consultancy firms such as Correctiv or Snopes, as if this problem can be solved and will disappear in a few months. There are also fact-checking firms on specific topics such as Ukraine or climate change. The next step is the ‘democratization’ of the meme design workshops, ‘meme sprints’ where multi-disciplinary ‘agile’ teams of designers, coders and ’trolls’ gather to unleash ‘meme wars’–and then disappear: organized networks that take the ideas of Adbusters one step further but shy away from the long-term commitment of the work that is done out of The Agency, a presumed ’troll farm’ office building in St. Petersburg (see also this Guardian article). Not far from here is the NATO observatory in Riga that looks in Russian social media manipulations.

LG: Will our grandchildren read Facebook or The New York Times?

GL: The New York Times, which by then will be owned by Facebook. That would be the Dutch pragmatist answer. The correct one is of course neither of them. The kids will navigate through Uber Entertainment. You must have heard from Alfabet, the mother company of Google, an umbrella structure for mega corporations, which is also likely to happen to Facebook as well. Jeff Bezos, founder of Amazon, now owns The Washington Post. The new rubber barons are running the largest non-profits in the world (think of the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation). Others enter different industries such as space travel.  What we need is a new iteration of cyberpunk literature that takes us on a tour through corporate cities owned by Snapchat, Tesla factories that mass manufacture killer robots and the Huawei hacking bunker, a smart internet observatory, masterminded by Chinese hipsters.

http://networkcultures.org/geert/2017/01/25/la-repubblica-interview-on-social-media-in-the-trump-era/