#/rhyme reuter

[the-red-mafia]

The Lost

The whole mafia expected Velvet to be upset following her mysterious conversation with Zaeor. What Maroon and Thorn didn't expect, though, was her running off to break into the B.A.D. mansion all on her own. The two scramble to follow them and the trio unite to search for answers within the walls of Velvet's childhood home. Also available on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/TheRedMafia Next Update: [Updated] Word Count: 5910

A day after “The Thief”

Maroon knocked on Velvet’s door for the third time, anxiety taking over them. 

“Velvet, I know you’re upset at Zaeor, but can you just let me know you’re okay?” they pleaded, “No one’s seen you since dinner last night.” The older teen had been locked in their room since they had gotten back from the UPS headquarters, only emerging after Zaeor had left to grab food. The god had returned about half an hour ago and seemed completely unbothered by her lack of presence. 

“They’re too frustrated to be useful right now,” he had told Maroon, “It’s one of their flaws.” Maroon had ascended the stairs anyway, and now stood in front of the closed, silent door. 

“Velvet, I really don’t want to do this. But I need to make sure you’re okay.” Maroon took a deep breath and grew a mushroom on the other side of the door. It fidgeted with the lock before a loud clicking sound echoed in the hallway. The teen opened the door, the mushroom melting back into the floorboards. 

The window across the room was open, letting in a cold breeze that sent goosebumps down their arm. The red and black comforter of her bed was still tucked in as if it hadn’t been touched in a few hours. Several empty energy drink cans sat on the bedside table. Maroon walked over to them, spotting a handwritten note set precariously on the edge. They picked it up.

Velvet’s handwriting, they thought, I can’t tell what it says. Maroon returned back to the doorway.

“Thorn, can you come up here?” they called out. Footsteps thudded against the stairs before the other teen appeared down the hallway. Their purple flannel matched Maroon’s sweater, which still made them smile slightly. Maroon took a deep breath. 

“Velvie giving you trouble?” He asked, smirking. 

“No, they’re not in here.” Thorn’s eyes widened.

“They’re not?” Maroon stepped out of the doorway, letting Thorn pass. Thorn looked around the room for a few moments. 

“Huh. Where’d she go then?” 

“That’s what I need your help with,” they replied, holding out the note, “I found this on the bedside table. Can you read it for me?” Their friend nodded, taking the small piece of paper. Ae looked at it for several seconds before shaking aer head.

“It’s in some other language. Latin, if I had to take a guess. I can’t read this.” 

“Try and read it out loud, then. I’ll translate.” Thorn let out a groan.

“Gods, I hate reading Latin.” Maroon chuckled and sat down on the perfectly made bed. Thorn sat down next to them.

“Here goes nothing,” Thorn mumbled, “‘Zaeor, apud Unorem consilium quaero.’” Maroon’s eyes widened. “She’s going to Unor’s base?” they breathed. “Noli sequi. Necesse est ut sōla id faciam. Te vocābō posteā’. And then they just signed their name.” Maroon’s heartbeat raced as they took the note from Thorn. The older teen looked up at them.

“So what are we doing?” it asked. Maroon was quiet for a moment.

“We’re going after them,” they said, standing, “They probably took the Umbrella, but we can take Rhyme’s ship.” Thorn nodded, standing as well. 

“I’ll go get the others. We can leave ASAP-” 

“No,” Maroon interrupted, “‘Non sequi’. She doesn’t want anyone to follow her.”

“I feel like what she wants doesn’t matter in this case,” Thorn muttered. Maroon brushed the comment off and turned to the door.

“The two of us will go. What if they’re in danger? We have to help.” 

“I mean, I’m with you on that part. Even if it’s Velvet,” Thorn began, “But I don’t know how comfortable I am with just taking Rhyme’s ship.” 

“I don’t see another option.” Thorn closed their eyes for several moments.

“Yeah, okay. If you’re sure. Let’s go.” 

Velvet looked up and down the hallway before sprinting into the next door. They shut the door quietly and took a deep breath.

Just a few more offices until his, she thought, Hopefully I can find something before then. They were picking up a folder off of the desk in front of them when a loud alarm began to blare. Velvet immediately set the folder down, but the sound continued. 

Trapped folder? What’s in here- She picked the folder up again when the door slammed open. Velvet quickly threw Kil-layye Mo’ore towards it before turning around. A familiar squeak hit her ears. 

“Maroon?” They breathed. Maroon waved slightly, standing up. The door shut, revealing Thorn behind it. 

“Oh it's our lucky day, huh?” the prince began, “She was behind the first door we checked.” Velvet balled their fists and glared at Thorn. 

“What the hell are you two doing here?” 

“We found your note,” Maroon answered. Velvet’s eyes widened. 

“What? It was in Latin, how’d you-” Velvet looked Maroon in the eyes, who tugged slightly on the sleeves of their red sweater. 

“How long have you been able to understand Latin?” the assassin demanded.

“About 500 years,” Maroon mumbled quietly. Velvet groaned loudly, summoning her sword back to her hand. 

“Of fucking course. Listen, I don’t know what you’re doing-”

“We wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Maroon began, “You were upset last night and then suddenly you’re breaking into B.A.D. and- I just wanted to help.” 

“And I’m here too,” Thorn added.

“Ugh, okay. But I don’t need your help. I’m fine on my own.” Maroon placed a hand on Velvet’s shoulder and smiled.

“I know. But this way, we can make sure.” Velvet looked them up and down before sighing. 

“Fine, whatever. Did you two set off the alarm?” Thorn sheepishly raised aer hand.

“That one’s my bad. I didn’t realise the cameras were on.” Velvet blinked a few times. 

“How…what? Why would they be off?” 

“I don’t know!” Velvet groaned again and sheathed Kil-layye Mo’ore. 

“You’re an idiot, frūx.”

“Hey, we’re here to sav-” Maroon cut them off.

“Is there any way to shut it off?” 

There’s an off switch in Unor’s office, but that’s way too far away to reach without getting caught right now. Where’s the other one… Velvet’s eyes widened and they quickly turned to the door. 

“Follow me. We’ve got to go visit my mom.”

Solana sat awkwardly at the breakfast table in between Mad and Rhyme, taking a bite of her eggs. Their companions refused to meet each other's eyes. Rhyme pushed his eggs back and forth on his plate while Mad looked towards the ceiling.

“So,” the elf tried, “Those kids, huh?” 

“Mhm,” Rhyme mumbled. Mad stayed silent. Solana waited a few moments before setting her fork down. 

“Rhyme, how far do you think they could’ve gotten?” Rhyme looked up at them. 

“If they figured out the boosters, they could be two galaxies away already.” Solana sighed. 

“Let’s hope Zaeor can find them soon, then.” Silence took over the room again. Mad eventually stood and took Solana’s empty plate. 

“I’m going to my room,” Mad stated. Solana quickly stood up and jumped over the counter, blocking its exit.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, crossing his arms. Mad looked them up and down. 

“Do you need something, Solana?” 

“More like you two need to talk,” the elf replied, “Now sit your robot ass back down.” Mad sighed.

“Solana, it’s really none of your business-”

“It’s either I do this, or Velvet does it when the teens get back. And I think you’d prefer me.” The droid was silent for a moment before returning to their seat. Solana smiled and hopped back on the counter, taking a seat in the middle.

“So, are you two gonna be able to mediate yourselves like adults, or do I have to sit here?” Rhyme looked up at Mad, who looked away. Solana rolled his eyes.

“Sitting here it is then,” they crossed their right leg over their left, “What happened at Eliza’s?” 

“Solana, really? Everything is fine-”

“Clearly not, if Rhyme here got as upset as she did on the UPS mission.” Rhyme’s cheeks became a light pink and she sunk deeper into her seat. Mad looked at her.

“Rhyme? What are they talking about?” The thief took a deep breath.

“Mad, I’m really really sorry,” he blurted out, “I fucked up really bad and I hurt you and I’d take it back if I could but I can’t and I just…” His voice faded out.

“You just…?” 

“I…don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. You’re…well…” The teen looked up at Solana, who motioned for her to continue. 

“You’re the only person who has cared about me in, god, 5 years?” He chuckled nervously, “You’re my only friend. I fucked up, I know that, and I’m sorry. And I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Because I don’t think I could handle losing you.” Mad was silent as it stared at him. The two made eye contact, or as much eye contact as they could considering one was a robot. A minute passed before Mad spoke. 

“Rhyme…” they began, “What you did…in front of me…it really fucked me up.” Solana’s eyes widened. 

I don’t think I’ve ever heard Mad curse before, they thought, glancing at Rhyme. The teen seemed to be having a similar thought. 

“I know, and I’m sorry-”

“I’m not done,” Mad interrupted, “I can’t look at you without seeing her bleeding out on the floor over and over again. My programming keeps analysing it, looking for some way for me to change it. But I can’t. And you can’t change what you’ve done.” Rhyme looked to the floor, but nodded. Solana frowned.

“Mad?” the elf asked. Mad groaned.

“Could you two let me finish my thought?” 

“Shit- sorry.” Mad sighed and stood up. It took Rhyme’s hand and pulled her up to her feet. Rhyme’s eyes widened as he looked at them. 

“As upset and…frustrated as I am about it, I think I’m more upset at the situation than you,” it mumbled, holding both of her hands, “I mean, I’m still upset, but I care about you too. And…I can’t lose you too.” Solana smirked. 

“S-so, do you forgive me?” Rhyme asked, the light pink returning to his face. Mad chuckled slightly.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Rhyme smiled brightly and pulled them into a hug. 

And that’s how you do it, Solana thought, Damn, if only that worked on Velvet. My life would be so much easier. 

“Don’t do it again,” Mad added before glancing up at Solana, “But that’s the most genuine apology I’ve heard in my entire time being with the mafia.” The elf rolled their eyes. 

“Hey, don’t look at me. What do I have to apologise for?” 

“My screwdriver.” Rhyme suppressed a laugh while Solana glared at the robot. 

“I didn’t fucking take your screwdriver.”

“I don’t believe Velvet snuck past all four of us without help.” 

“She’s the best assassin in the universe, of course she can!” Rhyme finally couldn’t keep it in anymore and broke out in loud laughter. 

“Have you seen her?” Rhyme pushed their face into Mad’s shirt to muffle her laughter. Mad stared down at him, wide eyes taking over the previously blank screen. Solana raised an eyebrow and jumped to the other side of the counter. 

“I think that’s my cue to go,” she said, gesturing to the door, “I’ll go check on Wyatt.”

“Solana-” The elf sprinted to the stairs, leaving the two of them in the kitchen alone.

 

Nala took a deep breath as she ran a brush through her hair. She pulled a section in front of her shoulder and stared into the mirror on her vanity. She was halfway through braiding it when there was a knock at the door. Nala frowned and checked her watch.

Unor’s not supposed to be here until 11:30, she thought, It’s only 10. 

“Who is it?” She called out. 

“Tua fīlia, mater,” A familiar voice answered. Nala’s eyes went wide. 

“Velvet?” She breathed. She quickly stood and opened the door, revealing her 15-year-old daughter in front of her. Two of her teammates, Maroon and Thorn if she remembered correctly, stood behind her. Nala pulled Velvet into a big hug. 

“Oh, Velvet,” she breathed, hugging her tightly. 

“Hi Mom. Can we come in?” Nala let go and smiled. 

“Of course.” The teens entered the room, Velvet shutting the door behind her.

“Hey Velvet’s mom,” The redhead, Thorn, said. Nala waved at him. 

“Hello, Thorn was it?” The teen nodded, so Nala turned to the other one, “And you’re Maroon?” 

“Mhm,” Maroon answered. She smiled.

“It’s lovely to see you two again. How have you been?”

“Good-” Velvet walked to the other side of the room, where a large computer set up sat. Nala looked at her daughter.

“What are you doing, Velvet?”

“Shutting down the alarm, give me a sec.” Nala frowned. 

“You set off an alarm?” Velvet groaned.

“No, those asinī did.” 

Asinī? I don’t think I know that one.

“Well I’m sorry I don’t know the entire B.A.D. mansion by heart,” Thorn apologised sarcastically, “I didn’t grow up here.”

“I didn’t fucking ask you to come-”

“Language,” Nala corrected. Velvet groaned.

“Sorry, mom. I didn’t ask you two to follow me. In fact, I think I explicitly said don’t.” 

“In our defence, you told Zaeor not to follow you,” Maroon chimed in. Velvet turned and glared at them. 

“‘Cause I was under the impression no one else spoke Latin. I guess I’m learning a lot today.” Nala chuckled and stood next to Velvet in the chair. The teen typed quickly and eventually got into the main security system. She paused on the screen for a few seconds.

“Left side, dear,” Nala stated. Velvet pressed the button and the bright ‘System Normal’ status blinked green. 

“Thanks, mater.” She clicked out of the security but pulled up the files application.

“What are you three doing here anyway?” Nala asked, turning to look at Thorn and Maroon as well, “And why didn’t you want your teammates to come with you?”

“Because she’s an angsty bitch,” Thorn mumbled. 

“Language.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Bolton.” Nala chuckled.

“Please, just Nala.”

“I’m looking into some information about something we found at a UPS headquarters. Do you know anything about Unor going to the station on Kenip?” Nala thought for a moment.

“I know he went there, but I’m not sure what for. I think it was just a routine drop-off he wanted to go on.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Velvet mumbled, “What about December 9th? Have you heard anything about something then?” At the same time, they typed the date into the search bar.

“That’s the day of our winter fundraiser.”

“Fundraiser?” Thorn asked, “Aren’t you guys like, rich?” Maroon put a hand on Thorn’s shoulder.

“Thorn-” Nala laughed and waved a hand.

“It’s alright, Maroon. It’s a fundraiser for a missing kid organisation, part of my plan to improve B.A.D.’s public image. It was also originally planned to help look for Velvet, but…” she gestured to Velvet, who rolled her eyes. 

“That’s sweet, how you never gave up looking for her,” Maroon said, smiling, “From the way Velvet used to talk about her parents, I thought you two didn’t get along.” Nala frowned and looked down at her daughter. Velvet, however, turned to glare at Maroon.

“I never said that.”

“I know. I just thought since you hated Unor so much-” Velvet looked back at the screen. 

“She’s just as much of a victim as we are.” 

“...we?” Maroon looked towards the floor, and Thorn took their hand. 

“That’s actually another thing I should look for,” Velvet mumbled under her breath. They typed Maroon’s name into the search bar.

“Velvet, that’s not what we came for,” Thorn said, “We don’t need to-”

“Shut it, Thorn.” The screen loaded for a moment before a grey ‘No Results’ tab popped up. Velvet sighed. 

“That’s about what I expected. Maroon, what was the name on the folder again?” 

“Project Rapio.” Nala paused.

“Now that name I’ve heard before,” she stated. Velvet looked up at her.

“What do you know?” 

“It’s been Unor’s new project for the past few weeks,” Nala sat down on her bed, “He didn’t tell me much, just that he would be redirecting resources to it for the next few weeks.”

“So the folder was right,” Velvet breathed. 

“What folder?” Velvet stood and turned to her teammates. 

“I have to search Unor’s office. Are you two coming with me?” Nala grabbed her wrist.

“Now wait just a second, young lady,” she said. Velvet looked at her.

“What, mater?” 

“First, drop the attitude. That’s no way to talk to your mother.” Thorn stifled a laugh as Velvet broke her wrist out of Nala’s grip.

“Sorry.”

“Secondly, Unor’s in a meeting there right now. You’d get caught immediately.” Velvet groaned.

“Do you know when he’ll be done?”

“11. Then he’s meeting me here at 11:30 so we can go make plans for the fundraiser.” Velvet mumbled something that Nala couldn’t make out. Maroon took her hand, drawing her attention. 

“We could stay in here until she leaves with him?” they asked, turning to Nala, “If you’re okay with that, Nala.” She smiled.

“Of course I’m okay with that. I’d never pass up a chance to hang out with my lovely daughter.” She pulled Velvet into another hug, one that she tried to wrestle out of this time. Nala won out, of course. She always did. 

“So, uh,” Mad began, looking down at Rhyme, “What was Solana talking about with the mission yesterday?” Rhyme lifted his head to look at the ground.

“Oh- uh- that was nothing.” 

“I can’t help but think that’s a lie.” 

“It’s not!” Rhyme said quickly, looking up at them, “I was just overwhelmed and thought you hated me.” 

“You know I can just text Maroon and ask, right?” Rhyme let out a strained laugh.

“Maroon won’t respond, they’re avoiding us.” Mad’s screen displayed a smirk.

“Maybe they’re ignoring you.” Rhyme narrowed her eyes. 

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Maybe,” it said, “Maybe they talked to me before they left and I told them how to fly your ship.”

“Mad!” The droid laughed. 

“Why would you do that?” Rhyme demanded, “Where are they going, anyhow?” 

“That part they didn’t tell me. They just said Velvet ran off and they wanted to go after her. So I told them.” 

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t just tell them to take all of us,” Rhyme replied. 

“They said Velvet had said she didn’t want to be followed. I figured they could handle it.”

“But my baby-” Mad laughed again as Rhyme fake-pouted. 

“Your baby will be fine,” Mad replied.

“Well yeah, you’re right here,” Rhyme mumbled. Mad looked down at her.

“What was that?” Rhyme’s heartbeat raced and he blushed.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Rhyme looked down at her hands, still in Mad’s. He quickly pulled them back and stuffed them into his pockets. Mad pulled out their phone and quickly typed a message. After a few seconds, it beeped. 

“Oh, they found Velvet. They’re with them and their mom now.” 

“Nala’s in on it?” Rhyme asked, “I shouldn’t be surprised, actually. She was the nicer of the two.” Mad nodded.

“I think she’s one of the only people I’ve heard Velvet talk about positively.” Another ding and a smirk appeared on Mad’s screen.

“Maroon said whatever you said yesterday was important.” Rhyme’s heart skipped a beat.

Dammit, Maroon. Fucking traitor. 

“I don’t think so,” Rhyme replied, crossing her arms. 

“Hold on, they just texted what you said.” Rhyme jumped forward, knocking the phone out of the droid's hand. Rhyme tripped over Mad’s foot, falling onto Mad. The two landed on the ground, Mad laughing loudly. Rhyme glared at the phone. 

“I was joking, Rhyme, I didn’t even ask them. I was just getting an update,” Mad said, looking up at her. Rhyme switched his glare to them.

“Scared the shit outta me, strange robot.” 

“Although, I might text them about it now considering that’s how you’re reacting.” Rhyme held Mad’s shoulders down and shook his head. 

“Can’t do that if I keep you here away from your phone.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Mad chuckled, “Rhyme, I’m a robot.” 

“Shit.” Mad laughed again, a bright smile appearing on their screen. 

“I’m just kidding. Maroon probably wouldn’t tell me, anyway.” Rhyme sighed, taking her hands off Mad’s shoulders.

“Good.”

“I am curious, though,” Mad added, “You don’t have to tell me, but I do wanna know.” 

“Maybe I’ll tell you. Eventually.” Mad displayed the eyes emoji, which promptly spun around. Rhyme stared at it before breaking out into laughter.

“What?” The droid asked. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Rolling my eyes.” That response only made the thief laugh harder. She set her forehead on their chest while she laughed. 

“Who…who told you to do that?” he asked through laughs. 

“Thorn. Why, does it look stupid?” Rhyme shook his head.

“No. Never stop doing that.” Mad shrugged as the thief sat up.

“If you say so.” The two looked at each other for a few moments. Mad’s screen changed to a smile, causing Rhyme to frown. It switched to a question mark.

“What’s wrong?”

“What did I just say?” Mad’s screen went blank.

“Huh? Oh- you meant-” Rhyme laughed again, shaking her head.

“No, I’m kidding.” Mad’s screen displayed the rolling eyes again anyways.

“Better?” it asked. 

“Better.” Mad laughed before looking Rhyme in the eyes.

“Can I stand up now?” Rhyme’s face went bright red and he quickly scrambled to get off of the droid. 

“Sorry-” 

“It’s okay. Are you gonna finish your breakfast?” Mad asked, gesturing to the full plate. 

“Right, yeah. Kinda got interrupted during that, huh?”

“That would mean you actually started eating.” Rhyme’s eyes widened. 

“I thought you weren’t looking at me earlier?” Mad shook their TV.

“My camera was looking at you, the TV wasn’t.”

“‘Course, how silly of me.” Mad nodded as the thief sat down at the table. It joined her, this time sitting to her right. Rhyme smiled and took a bite.

“How is it?” 

“Perfect,” Rhyme answered.

Just like you.

Velvet led the way down the hallway, Thorn and Maroon following behind. Nala had cleared out the area a few minutes before, but Velvet had Kil-layye Mo’ore drawn anyway. They passed down a set of brown double doors with several stickers on it. Thorn looked at them: a rainbow, stars, and the letter c sat in the middle. It looked like there were more letters, but they had fallen off. 

“What’s in there?” Thorn asked. Velvet didn’t even turn around to look at the door before responding.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” 

“Drop it, frūx,” Velvet hissed. The prince put their hands up. 

“Right, got it.” The trio walked for another minute before Velvet stopped in front of another set of double doors. These ones were blank, and a deeper brown than the other ones. Velvet took a deep breath. 

“We’re here.” Maroon looked down at her. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this, Velvet?”

“Of course I’m fucking not. But we don’t have a choice, now do we?” 

“I’m sure we could figure something else out. We could ask Nala-” 

“No,” Velvet stated coldly, “She’s endangered herself enough today. I’m not letting her get hurt again. Let’s just get this over with.” Maroon frowned as Velvet pushed the big doors open, Kil-layye Mo’ore raised. They creaked slightly but revealed an office with a large black desk ordained with various trinkets and papers. A laptop sat on top of it, open. There were three chairs around the desk: one on the side of the laptop and two with their backs towards the door. 

Paintings lined the walls depicting old buildings and other people, presumably older members of the Bolton family considering their similarity to Velvet. The walls were a deep, blood red with black sigils lining the middle. Thorn pointed them out.

“Any idea what those say?” He asked out loud. 

“Don’t look at them for too long. They’re a form of security.” Thorn quickly looked away.

“Unor’s got a lot of magic access for a mortal,” ae mumbled. 

“It’s really not that surprising. He’s not that far off from becoming a fake god.” That sentence caused Maroon and Thorn to stop dead in their tracks. 

“...what?” Maroon breathed. Velvet turned back to look at them. Her red hair fell out of the clip, so she adjusted it while she talked. 

“You didn’t know?”

“I think you conveniently forgot to mention that part,” Thorn replied through gritted teeth. Velvet just shrugged. 

“Well now you know.” 

“What do you mean ‘not that far off’?” Maroon asked. Velvet sat down in the main desk chair and typed something into the laptop.

“Same fucking password, what a fucking idiot,” they mumbled, “I mean he’s not far off. He’s got four and a half of the five souls he needs, so he’s almost there.” 

“Souls?” Thorn demanded, “How exactly does one become a fake god?” Velvet groaned.

“Did I really forget to explain this?” 

“I wouldn’t be asking otherwise.”

“I don’t know, you’re you,” the assassin mumbled, “To become a fake god, someone needs to collect one soul of each type. Unor’s got four and a half.” Maroon took a step forward. 

“Half?” Velvet refocused on the laptop, typing more into the keyboard. Maroon opened their mouth to say something more but stayed quiet. 

“Damn it, this is wiped clean,” they mumbled, “It’s almost like…” Thorn stared at her.

“If you say what I think you’re going to say, Velvie…”

“He knows we’re here,” Maroon said in a small voice. Velvet quickly stood from the chair and joined the duo.

“How could he know we’re here?” Thorn asked, “There’s no way.”

“He must have found out about the UPS break-in and put two and two together,” Velvet answered. They pushed the doors open again, this time a loud alarm blaring again. 

“So that whole planning thing with Nala was bullshit?” 

“Maybe not. I hope it wasn’t. I hope he’s not here and is just hoping his guards will be able to capture us.” 

“The guards that are also him,” Thorn muttered. Velvet nodded and stepped out into the hallway, making a run for it back where they came. The other two quickly followed.

“If we can get back to Nala’s room, could we-” 

“Too dangerous,” Velvet interrupted Maroon, “There’s another security panel in the library, but that’s way further. I don’t know if we’ll make it.”

“And there’s no chance they’re gonna fall for the false alarm from Nala for a second time,” Thorn added. Velvet nodded. Footsteps began thudding behind them, voices shouting in various languages Thorn didn’t know. Velvet glanced backward.

“One of you, make a wall.” Thorn obliged, a wall of vines growing and blocking the hallway behind them. They added a horizontal layer as well, just in case. In front of them, a large metal door slammed shut. Velvet quickly stopped in their tracks, breathing heavily.

“Fuck,” they said. 

“W-what’s that mean?” Maroon asked. 

“Full lockdown’s been activated. We can’t get out that way. Or any way, for that matter.” 

“Then what’s the plan?” Thorn demanded. Velvet glared at him.

“I’m fucking working on it, Thorn.” The voices behind the vine wall grew louder as Velvet scanned the hallway. A few feet ahead stood the sticker-covered doors once again. The assassin’s eyes locked on it right as Thorn’s did.

 

Maroon looked at their two friends as they both looked ahead. They followed their gaze to the door from earlier, the one Velvet had dismissed. 

“Fuck, okay,” she breathed, running forward. Maroon and Thorn followed. Velvet slowed in front of them and carefully tried the doorknob. The door gave way, warm sunlight fading in from the large bay window on the opposite side of the room. Maroon glanced at Velvet, who had her eyes closed tight. She took a deep breath and, once Maroon and Thorn were inside, shut the door. 

The room was well-lit from the window alone, a pair of blue curtains hanging from the rod above them. The right corner had a large canopy bed, decorated with blue and purple bedsheets. There were four pillows on top and an extra blanket folded neatly at the end. Pictures of butterflies and various star systems sat above the bed, forming a star. 

A large rug was in the middle, a blue flower. The opposite side of the room from the bed had a desk with a textbook open on top of it. The chair was pushed in and a layer of dust had begun to form on the pages. A closet was pushed up against the wall the door was on, slightly ajar. 

Velvet slowly turned around, taking in the scene. Maroon watched as they walked towards the window. 

“Who’s room is this?” Thorn asked, crossing his arms. Velvet sat down at the window, looking out. Maroon walked towards the open textbook. 

“This is- was. This was a friend of mine’s bedroom.” Maroon looked down at the book, wiping the dust off. There sat a name.

“Caran?” Maroon read, “Oh…that’s who Caran was.” Velvet nodded, standing again. 

“Try not to touch anything, okay?” Maroon wiped their hand on their trousers. Velvet joined them at the desk and glanced down at the book. 

“‘Course that’s what he was reading,” they mumbled. Maroon looked down at them.

“What is it?” 

“Algebra.” 

“What’s…algebra?” Velvet stared at them for a few seconds.

“I’ll let Mad handle that one.” Maroon nodded but kept their eyes on Velvet. The assassin slowly opened a drawer and their eyes widened. 

“Jackpot,” they breathed. They pulled out a laptop, similar to the one from Unor’s office. They sat down back at the window and opened it up. Maroon sat next to them and Thorn joined on the other side of Maroon. 

“His laptop?” Thorn asked, “How’s that gonna help?” 

“Unor’s not going to limit a dead person’s access to classified documents. That’s his one weakness: he’s cocky. He killed someone, so there’s no point controlling what they can see.” Maroon’s heart skipped a beat.

“He killed Caran?” Maroon asked.

“Of course he fucking did. Are you even surprised?” 

“...no.” Velvet typed in another passcode and smirked. 

“And we’re in. Project Rapio…” They clicked on a file and quickly scanned it. 

“That looks like the one we found at the UPS,” Maroon commented. Velvet nodded. 

“It is.”

“Anything new?” Thorn asked. Velvet closed the document and opened up the next. 

“I’m looking, give me a minute.” Thorn looked around Maroon to read the screen.

“That’s in English?”

“Yeah. It must be the memo he sent to the lower-ranking operatives. They typically can’t read Latin.” Thorn was quiet for a moment before his eyes widened. 

“Unor’s trying to capture us for one of our souls?” it exclaimed. Velvet slammed the laptop closed and stood. 

“We should get out of here,” she mumbled, “We’ll have to break the window.” Maroon glanced at Thorn, who was staring at Velvet.

“Velvet, did I read that right?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, Thorn.”

Soul? If he already has 4 and a half, why would he want… their eyes locked on Velvet, Oh. 

“Velvet, that half a soul Unor has,” Maroon said quietly, “It’s yours, isn’t it?” Velvet turned back to glare at them.

“So what if it is? It doesn’t change anything.” 

“Oh my gods,” Maroon breathed, “Velvet, I’m so sorry-”

“Is that why you’re so…you?” Thorn asked. Maroon stared down at them.

“Thorn-”

“What? That was the nicest way I could think of.” 

“Just fucking drop it, will you?” Velvet demanded, “It’s not that big of a deal.” She jumped onto the window seat and drew Kil-layye Mo’ore, using the hilt to break the glass. Maroon and Thorn quickly moved out of the way. 

“It is a big deal, though. You’re missing half of your soul, your personality, your…emotions.” Maroon let the last word hang in the air as Velvet sheathed her sword again. Thorn looked between Maroon and Velvet.

“So all this time, I’ve been calling you a bitch for ignoring your emotions,” the prince began, “But you haven’t been. You just haven’t had emotions?” 

“I’m done talking about this with you two. Just forget you ever figured this out, okay?” 

“Velvet, stop.” Maroon grabbed their wrist, forcing them to look back at them. 

“What do you want, fungus?” 

“How long has your soul been broken?” Velvet groaned.

“Are we really going to do this?” 

“The quicker you answer our questions, the quicker we can leave,” Thorn added. Velvet glanced at each of them before sighing.

“Fine. Since shortly after my 14th birthday.” 

Nearly two years, Maroon thought, Dear Ailuj-

“Does Zaeor know?” Velvet scoffed.

“Of course he fucking knows. He’s what stopped him from taking the whole thing.” Maroon’s eyes widened. 

“So that’s what you meant,” Thorn said. The two of them looked towards him.

“What?”

“You keep saying that he saved your life. I thought that was after you started working for him, but it's why you’re working for him.” Velvet rolled her eyes.

“That’s what you choose to focus on?”

She’s been like this since before the mafia was formed. How did no one notice?

“I don’t control where my brain goes, Velvie.”

Does anyone in the mafia know? We…we could’ve…I could’ve…

“Do not fucking call me that, especially-”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Maroon blurted out. Velvet turned to them.

“What do you mean?”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? Me, Mad, anyone. We could’ve helped you sooner.” Velvet narrowed their eyes at them.

“Because there’s no way to help me, Maroon.” The youngest teen’s heart skipped a beat again as they looked at her. 

“There has to be something.”

“There’s not, Zaeor’s checked. I’m stuck like this for the rest of my life.”

“Fuck, that’s morbid,” Thorn muttered. Velvet sent a glare aer way. 

“So is my entire life. Get used to it.” 

“What if Unor was dead?” Maroon asked. The two teens refocused on them, Thorn’s eyes wide.

“What are you talking about, Maroon?” Thorn asked. 

“If Unor was dead, wouldn’t all the souls be released? Couldn’t you get it back then?” Velvet frowned.

“In theory, but there’s no guarantee-”

“But it’s possible?”

“Maroon, are you saying we should-” Velvet cut Thorn off.

“Yeah, I guess it’s possible.”

If killing Unor could fix Velvet’s soul…after everything he’s done, what’s stopping us?

“Then let’s attack Unor first,” Maroon stated, “We’ve been on the defensive this whole time. The day he’s actually planning on attacking us, we attack first. Stage a full assault on this base. Take it over and end this.” Velvet stared at Maroon for several moments. Thorn took their hand but Maroon didn’t take their eyes off of the assassin in front of them. 

“You’re right,” Velvet finally replied, “That’s what we’ll do.” Maroon took a deep breath and nodded. 

“Mushroom, are you sure you want to-”

“Yes. I’m sure.” Velvet held a hand out to Maroon and the three teens stood on the windowsill. Thorn had a concerned look on his face as he stared at Maroon. 

“One of you want to make something to get us down?” Velvet asked. A giant mushroom sprouted from the ground, stopping right in front of them. Maroon led the way onto the pileus.

It’s time to end this.

[babyawacs]

@law #fisa .@law .@judge @judges .@harvard_law .@sun @ap @reuters @ bbc_whys  @france24 @snowden @haaretzcom @deutschland @dw @phoenix_de @bild @sz the procedural trickery on these facts are just how they de fault handle as any criminal govt any case itisnot contagan killem inth e ghetto but the methods applied rhyme in many oftheir cases ///// h uman rights court 2009on whistleblower protections occasionally they k n e w allalong whos victim tothem itis equal or inferior that guy fi guredout realdeal and charged it to them whoever immunised them todowhat

@law #fisa .@law .@judge @judges .@harvard_law .@sun @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @snowden @haaretzcom @deutschland @dw @phoenix_de @bild @sz the procedural trickery on these facts are just how they default handle as any criminal govt any case itisnot contagan killem inthe ghetto but the methods applied rhyme in many oftheir cases ///// human rights court 2009on whistleblower protections…

[themousefromfantasyland]

Creatures of Yuletide: Krampus, the Christmas Demon

He sees you when you're sleeping

And he knows when you're awake

He knows if you've been bad or good

So be good FOR YOUR OWN GODDAMNIT SAKE!!!

Christmas season is full of magical beings and creatures that travel through our world. Jolly old men from the north, elves that sleep in our homes, goats that give presents, the holiday season is full of all sorts of weird and wonderful characters. However, Santa Claus tends to me the most famous among them, and the most remembered in popular culture. This was, until some years ago, when a forgotten Christmas character rose in popularity in pop culture as an antithesis of good old St. Nick. I’m talking about Krampus, the Christmas Demon from German and Alpine lore.

One of the reasons why I believe Krampus became so popular recently is because he’s a scarier and less commercial alternative to Santa. In older posts I talked about how people used to tell scary ghost stories during Christmas and how Christmas once had this spooky side to it. Then one day it hit me that, in a way, Krampus is exactly a call back to these traditions. While not a ghost, Krampus brings back the scary atmosphere to the holiday. People tell stories about Krampus, they dress like him, they fright their neighbors in these costumes. People in general like to be scared, and in particular, even though they won’t admit it now, children too. Krampus is celebrated because he brings back the fun that overly commercialized Santa took out from Christmas.

Jeremy Seghers, organizer of the first Krampusnacht festival held in Orlando, said this in an interview to the Smithsonian Magazine:

"The Krampus is the yin to St. Nick's yang. You have the saint, you have the devil. It taps into a subconscious macabre desire that a lot of people have that is the opposite of the saccharine Christmas a lot of us grew up with."

Krampus is mainly a holiday tradition from the Alpine region and Central Europe in general. His name is derives from the German word krampen, meaning claw. On the night of December 5th, the eve of Saint Nicholas Feast, Krampus, and Saint Nicholas himself go out in the streets to punish or reward kids. This makes him one of the Companions of Saint Nicholas, a group of holiday figures that would help him in punishing kids. While they do the punishment, jolly old Nick brings the kids gifts, in a sort of Good Cop, Bad Cop dynamic.

Our friend St. Nick fills the shoes of good children with fruits and sweets. Krampus carries birch branches for senseless beating the misbehaving ones. On his back he is often depicted carrying a sack or a basket. This is to carry the naughty kids to his layer for more torture later. He can also eat them, threw them out in the river to drown, or bring them straight to the depths of Hell. In some parts of Austria, Krampus presents the families with gold-painted twigs that are to be displayed year-round in the house, constantly reminding the kids of his ever-watching presence.

What lovable fellow!

It was common in the 19th century to exchange Gruß vom Krampus, “Greetings from Krampus” cards that contained humorous rhymes and poems. In these Krampus is depicted looming menacingly over children. In others the creature receives sexual undertones, pursuing scantily dressed women.

There is also the Krampuslauf, or, Krampus Run, where people dress up as him and parade through the street dressed in fur suits and carved wooden masks and carrying cowbells. This one is very important for understanding Krampus origins.

Now, no one really know where Krampus comes from. The most popular theory is that he was a fertility god from the Alpine Region before Christianity retconned him as demon. Scholars often link him, Pan, and the satyrs to the archetype of the Horned God. Some claim he’s the son of Hel, but I didn’t find any real or credible source to this.

What we do know is that Krampus has some connections to a goddess in the Alpine region called Frau Perchta.

Now Frau Perchta is a very mysterious figure from the German folklore. She had many different names depending on the era and region. We don’t know a lot about her before Christianization, but what we do know is that in the folklore of Bavaria and Austria, she was a witch said to roam the countryside at midwinter, and to enter homes during the twelve days between Christmas and Epiphany. Good children would find a silver coin in their shoes. Bad children would have their bellies sliced open, their stomach and guts removed, and she would stuff the straw and pebbles in the hole left behind. She had two forms in which she could be encountered, beautiful and white as snow, or elderly and haggard.

Perchten is plural for Perchta. Originally, the word referred to female masks representing her, but the name come to refer to the animal masks worn in parades and festivals in the mountainous regions of Austria.

A Perchten mask

In the 16th century, the Perchten took two main forms: Schönperchten, "beautiful Perchten", or the Schiachperchten, "ugly Perchten”. The beautiful Perchten came during the twelve nights of Christmas and festivals to bring luck and wealth to the people. The ugly Perchten, who had fangs, tusks and horse tails which were used to drive out demons and ghosts. Men dressed as the ugly Perchten during this time and went from house to house driving out bad spirits.

From the Smithsonian Magazine: A man dressed in a traditional Perchten costume and mask performs during a Perchten festival in the western Austrian village of Kappl, November 13, 2015. Each year in November and January, people in the western Austria regions dress up in Perchten (also known in some regions as Krampus or Tuifl) costumes and parade through the streets to perform a 1,500 year-old pagan ritual to disperse the ghosts of winter. (DOMINIC EBENBICHLER/Reuters/Corbis)

People would masquerade as these devilish figures and march in processions known as Perchtenlaufs. The Church didn’t like these creatures and tried many times to ban these practices, but due to the sparse population and the rugged environments within the region, the ban was useless.

In Catholicism, St. Nicholas is the patron saint of children. His saint day falls in early December, which helped strengthen his association with the Yuletide season. A seasonal play that spread throughout the Alpine regions was known as the Nikolausspiel, "Nicholas play". In these plays St. Nick would make questions about morality and reward children for their scholarly efforts. Eventually the Perchtenlauf, in an attempt to pacify the Church, introduced Saint Nicholas and his set of good morals. Krampus, the in-chains helper of Saint Nicholas, was then born.

In 1975, anthropologist John J. Honigmann wrote that:

"The Saint Nicholas festival we are describing incorporates cultural elements widely distributed in Europe, in some cases going back to pre-Christian times. Nicholas himself became popular in Germany around the eleventh century. The feast dedicated to this patron of children is only one winter occasion in which children are the objects of special attention, others being Martinmas, the Feast of the Holy Innocents, and New Year's Day. Masked devils acting boisterously and making nuisances of themselves are known in Germany since at least the sixteenth century while animal masked devils combining dreadful-comic (schauriglustig) antics appeared in Medieval church plays. A large literature, much of it by European folklorists, bears on these subjects. ... Austrians in the community we studied are quite aware of "heathen" elements being blended with Christian elements in the Saint Nicholas customs and in other traditional winter ceremonies. They believe Krampus derives from a pagan supernatural who was assimilated to the Christian devil"

Is worth noting that this is exactly what happened to the Yule Goat. He was a pagan symbol, people dressed like him to keep winter spirits at bay, but the Christians demonized him. There are illustrations of Saint Nicholas or of Father Christmas riding the Yule Goat during Christmas and these were meant to represent the power of God over the power of the Devil. Krampus is represented in chains by the same reason. However, the Yule Goat came to become a gift-giver and a more positive force in holiday lore, with people dressing as goats to deliver gifts to their families in the 19th century. Krampus didn’t have the same luck. I really wonder if the Yule Goat and Krampus came from variants from the same or similar cultural traditions, but that took drastically different routes.

I must say that, although I'm more in the team Santa, I learned to love Krampus over the years. It’s undeniable the amount of fun he brought to those who wanted something a little more darker and creepier in the holidays, and as someone who identifies itself as 90% lover of cheesy, cutesy and sappy stuff and 10% lover of everything earie and macabre, the idea of a monstrous boogeyman in the shadows of good old Santa Claus is fun. I personally think there’s enough space for both, the terrifyingly scary and the joyful jolliness.

Fun fact: Krampus, the one people rescued from German obscurity to combat the overly commercialized Christmas, is now being criticized as being too commercialized. C'est la vie

Story time: In my country I once heard the tale of a guy that went as Santa to deliver Christmas presents to children in a poor community. He brought many gifts and toys with him. The children loved them, until there were no more gifts to be delivered. The remaining children and their parents became so angry that they chased away the guy, throwing rocks at him. The guy came to them with free stuff, helped as much as he could, and people still threw rocks at him and chased him away, almost seriously hurting him.

I admit, there are cases where Krampus is truly needed 🤣🤣🤣

Art by Helen Mask

[allthatglittersandgoldblog-blog]

TRACING CONFLICT GOLD IN THE DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC OF CONGO.

https://www.pri.org/stories/2017-06-23/tracing-conflict-gold-democratic-republic-congo

In this article, we see the lines crossed by workers (rather literally) to take matters onto their own hands and to trade their way out of the cruelty of minimum wages. They smuggle (it rhymes with ‘struggle’ for a reason) to find their light at the end of the tunnel before it collapses upon their lives. 

Conditions as such provide for the lush we bring in by the bling in our lives and we should really begin to consider what weight in carats we put on your necks that literally cost others theirs.

Credit:

Finbarr O'Reilly/Reuters

[rockawaysfinest]

Video Alert: #JefStar: Get Your Period Fast - (excerpt) 100% diss. #JefStar is the title of an official authentic sixteen (16) page rhyme/poem and also a docu-film series on "King Kasheme, The Original Official Mighty Shirt King (1963 - 2004)" penned by Queen DJ Professor MC Shasia Muhammad, BA, MS, est. 1970, Leader of The Hip Hop Nation & Movement, an absolute monarchy King Kasheme is the Official Original Mighty Shirt King not you So now what the phuck ya wack a$$ gon do? Jaz Avery is the heir to King Kashemes' fame The wack Shirt King you doing is subpar and lame #118thAvenueFAM and 169th Street Crew we #SouthSideAllStars now I'm battling #JefStar, #MrCheeks, #LostBoyz and #LBFAM star I didn't even blink when you said "you'd bust me up" What I should have told you was shut the phuck up Why would I worry about a soft art school Nigga like you My brother #SaadiqAlamin will set you straight dude You girl fighting Master Shirt King biting you asked - who raised me, my parents bytch, much better than yours, for p-u-s-s-y I don't bite and diss my dead friends and all the like You fronting a$$ women beater, who can't fight You threaten me after I sponsored your punk a$$, yeah right I gave your weak-a$$ a party at "Queens Mos Wanted Kuttz Barber Shop" And put you on to meeting my GodDaughter Shirt Queen #LiaCha Yo that threatening $hit don't work on hardrocks like me Cause your little punk a$$ hands can't hit what ya eyes can't see You can't see me with 20/20 vision, you bum You're dirt, garbage, refuse and scum Phuck with The God King Kashemes' legacy again and your going to get more of the same thing that you just got Beat up a woman, Jef Star that's not hot I say there's nothing separating us - me and you But street, air and opportunity Throw your hands up - you Permission to reproduce this photograph is limited to editorial issues of newspapers and other regularly published periodicals and television news programming. ©Copyright 2018 S. Muhammad. All rights reserved. @APNews @UPI @Reuters #WestHab #YWCA @YonkersYWCA #ShasiaMuhammadYoYWCA *written entirely for womanhood training at @FlyGirlsInternational142 with Isabel https://www.instagram.com/p/BsJ0P-0lzMH/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=18yx8kugrthrw

[the-red-mafia]

The Assassination

Mad receives a call from Rhyme early in the morning with an odd request: help him break into Mrs. Gracy's house and rescue a boy she recently took in. After arriving at the house, it turns out things aren't exactly as they seem. Also available on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/TheRedMafia Next Update: [Updated] Word Count: 2445

1 month after “The Catalyst”

Velvet nearly impaled Mad’s TV with a knife when they entered the kitchen. The robot quickly dodged and flicked on the light.

“Just me!” they whispered. Velvet stared at it before sighing. 

“Damn it, Mad. What are you doing awake?”

“I could say the same for you.” The teen took a big drink of the energy drink sitting in front of them. Mad crossed their arms as she tossed it in the recycling bin. 

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Go figures,” the droid mumbled, “Well, I’m going to help Rhyme with something.” Velvet frowned.

“At 5:30 in the morning?” Mad shrugged. 

“Said it was something to do with Eliza. Figured I might as well.” 

“How long are you gonna be gone?” 

“No idea. Why? Is something happening?” 

“Mission this evening. Was gonna tell everyone when they woke up.” Mad’s screen went blank.

“What’s the mission?” 

“Information retrieval. We’re breaking into a UPS building.”

“Of course,” Mad began, “I’ll be back before then. When are we leaving?” 

“After dark.”

“Yeah, everything will be fine.” Velvet narrowed their eyes at them before sighing.

“Okay, have fun or whatever.” A smile appeared on Mad’s screen. 

“Alright, see you later.”

“Bye-”

“And no more energy drinks! Go to bed!” Velvet rolled their eyes but waved goodbye to the robot. 

Looking back, Mad wished it had stayed.

The guilt began to form in Rhyme’s stomach as soon as he saw Mad walking out of the Umbrella, a smile on their TV. It waved at him, and he waved back. Daylight was just breaking around them, yellows and oranges piercing the black sky. 

Just follow the plan, Rhyme thought to herself, They won’t even know. 

“Hey Rhyme!” Mad called out. Rhyme waved again. Mad must’ve picked up on Rhyme’s nervous demeanour because the next words out of their speakers were “Are you okay?”. Rhyme took a deep breath.

The plan, Rhyme. 

“Not really,” the smile immediately disappeared, “I found out something disturbing this morning.” Mad stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“What?”

“Eliza’s adopted another kid. A little boy named Wyatt.”

“...Oh.” 

“Yeah. Will you help me get him out of there?” 

“Of course. What’s the plan?” Rhyme smiled.

“Thanks Mad. I knew I could count on you.”

Now onto phase 2. 

“My plan is to break into the house through the attic. Do you need anything from the Umbrella?”

“I don’t think so. How long is it going to take?” 

“Hopefully not long. Shall we go? I’ll fill you in on the way.”

Rhyme carefully opened the small hatch in between the roof tiles. The ship sat a couple dozen metres away in a small parking lot behind the estate. Mad watched as the teen slid down into the hole, their laser gun strapped to their back. She held herself up for a few seconds before landing silently on the tiled floor. He looked up at Mad and smirked.

“You coming?” he whispered. 

“I am not that graceful.”

“You’ll be fine. No one can hear up here anyway. I was just doing that to look cool.” Mad chuckled and landed next to her.

“Well, you succeeded. Where now?” The room was an ugly shade of white, with several dolls dressed as angels lining the walls. Rhyme looked at each of them with disgust before gesturing to a door on the other side. 

“There. If we’re lucky, he’s in my old room. Or one of the dozens of other kids' bedrooms Eliza has.” 

“Why’s she so obsessed with kids?” Rhyme stifled a laugh.

“Don’t say it like that, you make her sound like a pedophile.” Mad shrugged.

“Hey, I don’t know.” Rhyme bit their lip to keep from laughing. 

“No, she’s just obsessed with the ‘perfect religious family’. Living in the eyes of God or whatever.” Rhyme walked over to the door and held it open for Mad.

“After you.” The duo made their way down the hallway. As they walked, Mad could hear the muffled sobs of a child. They grew louder, eventually culminating in front of a white door. A sign hung on the door, reading “Wyatt” in fancy cursive letters. Rhyme scoffed. 

“She did put him in my room,” he muttered, “Huh. She’s always kept it empty since I ran away.” Mad turned to her. 

“It’s almost like it’s a-”

“Trap,” Rhyme finished. She turned to it.

“Are you still-”

“Yes. How old is he?”

“Five.” Mad was quiet before twisting the doorknob. It was pure white with light baby blue curtains covering a small window. A little boy sat on the bed, knees pulled to his chest. He had bright green eyes and platinum blonde hair that was cut short. He quickly turned away from the door and scooted towards the wall, pulling on the sleeves of his white polo. He was shaking.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Gracy!” He shouted, “I didn’t mean to get the shirt dirty, I won’t do it again!” Rhyme frowned.

“I see she’s no better parent now,” he mumbled. Mad stepped forward, allowing a smile to take over its screen. 

“My name’s Mad. I’m not going to hurt you.” The boy’s shaking slowed and he glanced behind him. 

“M-Mad?” The droid sat down on the bed next to him.

“Yep. I’m here with my friend Diamonds-”

“Rhyme,” Rhyme corrected. Mad looked at him.

“Right, Rhyme. We’re here to get you out of here.” Wyatt looked up at them.

“What?” 

“Mrs. Gracy hasn’t been very nice to you, has she?” Rhyme asked, crossing her arms. Wyatt paused for a moment before shaking his head.

“But- she saved me from the orphanage, so I need to-”

“It’s not your fault,” Mad interrupted, “She’s…hm. She’s not a good person. I know a place where you will be happy and the people will be nice to you. Do you want to go?” Wyatt looked away as Mad held a hand out to him.

“M-Mrs. Gracy would be mad-”

“You won’t have to see her again,” Rhyme added, “She’ll be out of your life for good.” Wyatt turned to the thief. 

“...she won’t hit me anymore?” Mad felt anger grow inside their soul. 

“No. You’ll be safe.” The boy once again looked up at Mad and their outstretched hand. After a few more seconds of hesitation, he took it. Mad scooped him up and stood.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Mad asked.

“J-just my arm. There’s purple skin.” He pointed at his right shoulder. Rhyme raised an eyebrow. 

“Purple-skin?”

“Bruise, I’m assuming,” Mad replied, “Can I take a look?” Wyatt nodded. Mad rolled the sleeve up. A large bruise was forming, dark and purple. Mad’s screen turned off, startling the 5-year-old.

“You okay, Mad?” Rhyme asked, placing a hand on its shoulder.

“I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.” They rolled the sleeve back down. Rhyme nodded and turned around, letting Mad and Wyatt go in front of him. As soon as they stepped out of the door a loud alarm began to sound. Rhyme and Wyatt jumped slightly and the thief quickly pulled out her gun. Wyatt stared at the weapon for several seconds before burying his face against Mad’s shoulder. 

“What’s going on?” it asked. 

“They must have some kind of tracker on him. We’re gonna have company.” Mad slid their laser gun into their other hand and held it up. Shouting echoed from the stairwell a metre or so in front of them. A head popped up and Rhyme quickly shot a bullet into his shoulder. The man tumbled down the stairs, seemingly taking a few other guards with him. Rhyme grabbed Mad’s wrist and sprinted in the opposite direction.

“We’ll take the back stairs!” He began as a bullet flew by his head, “There’s an exit down there.” She pulled them down the stairs and towards a glass door at the end of a hallway. Three guards turned around a corner and stood in front of it, weapons raised at the trio. Mad fired a few shots at them before scanning the area. 

There was one large door about halfway down the hallway that was pure white with gold trim around the edges. Paintings hung on either side, some depicting forests with bright white trees and some of a man with a crown of thorns on his head. One of Rhyme’s bullets collided with a guard’s knee and Mad grabbed him. 

“I have a plan, follow me!” Mad pulled her and kicked open the door in the hallway.

“Mad, wait-” The robot pushed her in and quickly slammed the door behind them. They expected banging, maybe even shots through the door, but there was only silence. Rhyme was panting next to them and Wyatt choked back a sob.

“What are you doing?”

Rhyme swung around and fired a shot that embedded itself in the wall just a few centimetres away from Eliza’s head. She sat at her desk with a disgusted look on her face. 

“Eliza…” Rhyme muttered. Mad turned around as well, their screen powered off. The woman sighed and stood.

“Thank you, Rhyme, for bringing me my son-”

“He’s not your son,” Mad interrupted. Eliza glared at it. 

“Legally-”

“Legally doesn’t mean shit,” Rhyme spat. 

“Legally, you’re my child too, Rhyme.” 

“Exactly. Doesn’t mean shit.” Eliza sighed and stood from her desk. 

“Listen, robot…what was your name again?”

“Don’t-” Rhyme started, but Mad told her. A fake, vicious smile took over her face. 

“Mad. I have some information that could be quite useful-” Rhyme fired a shot next to Eliza’s head and she stepped to the side. 

“Ignore her, Mad. She’s talking crazy.” A loud thud came from the door and Mad quickly moved to stand in front of it. The guards shouted from the other side but the robot pressed its body against the wood. Eliza shook her head before reaching into a drawer on her desk. She quickly raised her own gun at Rhyme.

“Rhyme, dear. You know your robot won’t be able to hold that door for long. Why don’t you tell it to bring my child to me and no one gets hurt?” 

“That’s not happening,” Mad interrupted. Eliza rolled her eyes.

“Would you be quiet, robot?” Rhyme’s next shot hit her square in her left shoulder, sending her to the ground. She let out a scream and the thuds on the door grew louder. 

“Don’t talk to Mad like that,” he ordered. Eliza pressed a hand against her wound and sat up. Rhyme kicked her back to the ground. The woman held the gun in her right hand and fired a shot that hit Rhyme in the knee. The teen backed up a metre or so.

“Rhyme!” Mad called out. She looked back at them and shook her head.

“I’m fine, keep holding the-” Another shot hit Rhyme in his lower abdomen. Eliza laughed maniacally as she stood and kicked the thief’s weapon away. She placed a high heel on Rhyme’s gunshot wound, digging the end into it. Rhyme winced in pain.

“Get off her, Eliza!” Mad called out. She looked at it.

“What are you going to do about it, robot? Shoot me with your children’s laser?” Mad did exactly that, raising their laser gun and firing it straight into her chest. It sent her flying into a bookshelf, knocking dozens of various novels to the ground. Rhyme jumped to his feet and glared down at Eliza.

“Now kill her.” Mad froze.

“...What?”

“Kill her. She fucking deserves it.” Rhyme looked back at it. He had a wicked grin on his face and a determined look in his eyes. 

“...I can’t.” Eliza struggled to get back to her feet across the room. The door behind Mad fell forward, the shouting even louder now. Mad jumped out of the way as dozens of Eliza’s guards streamed through the doorframe. They focused their aim on the guards, sending them flying around the room. Rhyme stood next to Eliza, scanning the room for her own gun and keeping the woman on the floor. 

After Mad’s laser had hit nearly two dozen of Eliza’s men, Rhyme laughed. It wasn’t her normal laugh, the one that sent warm feelings up and down Mad’s soul. This one was dark and cold.

“Bye bitch,” Mad heard Rhyme mutter. The robot turned around just in time to see the teenage thief blow a hole in Eliza’s skull. 

Rhyme only stared at Eliza for a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. A wave of relief washed over her as the blood spilled onto the white carpet. He eventually snapped back to reality and spun around, landing bullets in most of the guards around. Mad stood frozen on the other side, staring at Eliza’s corpse. Rhyme shook away the guilt forming in her stomach and sprinted over. A few tears were dripping from Wyatt’s eyes when he gripped the robot’s wrist.

“Mad, we’ve got to go.” A few shots whizzed by and Rhyme quickly took out their source. Mad slid their laser gun onto its back and held onto Wyatt tightly. 

“It’s okay, Wyatt, it’s okay.” Rhyme frowned.

Why isn’t he happy? Eliza’s dead. The thief pulled his friends through the door and down the hall towards the formerly blocked exit door. She kicked it open as footsteps echoed behind them. They ran until they reached Rhyme’s ship again, the door opening as she approached. 

“We’ll be safe once we get on the ship,” Rhyme told Mad, but the robot didn’t reply. Once the door was safely locked and they were off the ground, Wyatt began to sob. Mad pressed the small child against them and slowly rubbed circles on his back. Rhyme looked away and winced as the pain spiked in his stomach. 

It only took a few minutes for Wyatt to slip into sleep, leaving Mad and Rhyme alone on the ship. Mad layed him down on the captain’s chair and joined her at the console. They were quiet for a moment.

“...Are you okay?” it mumbled. Rhyme shrugged.

“Yeah.” 

“Where are you going?” He gestured to the GPS.

“Back to my place to get you back to the Umbrella.”

“And what about Wyatt?” The teen blinked a few times.

“I…didn’t get that far in my plan.” Mad sighed and looked back at the five-year-old. 

“Let’s all go to the mansion, then.” Rhyme frowned.

“Don’t you want the Umbrella back?”

“We can get it later,” Mad replied, crossing their arms. Rhyme frowned.

“Are you…mad at me?” She asked. The droid looked into the star-ridden sky and sighed. 

“I just need some time to myself, Rhyme.” The thief stared at them for several seconds before sighing as well. 

“Alright, Mahogany Mansion it is.”

[babyawacs]

count the character flaws implied,rhymes on them instead?  @judge @jud ge @judges .@judges .@fisa @fisa @harvard_law @ap @reuters @haaretzcom @ snowden  @bbc_whys @france24 @dejure @dejureorg  itjust keeps gettin gbetter. allknew whatitis+whattheydid. then. fraudit later 10ys 15ys on

count the character flaws implied,rhymes on them instead?  @judge @jud ge @judges .@judges .@fisa @fisa @harvard_law @ap @reuters @haaretzcom @ snowden  @bbc_whys @france24 @dejure @dejureorg  itjust keeps gettin gbetter. allknew whatitis+whattheydid. then. fraudit later 10ys 15ys on

count the character flaws implied,rhymes on them instead? @judge @judge @judges .@judges .@fisa @fisa @harvard_law @ap @reuters @haaretzcom @snowden @bbc_whys @france24 @dejure @dejureorg itjust keeps gettingbetter. allknew whatitis+whattheydid. then. fraudit later 10ys 15ys on #german #fraud #is germany is: rape mengele experiment,drugexperiments: repeats many movements on their drugs…

[notayesmanseconomics]

Monte Paschi symbolises the economy of Italy

Monte Paschi symbolises the economy of Italy

There is a saying that history does not repeat but it does rhyme. Well it faces a challenge from the world’s oldest bank where we keep facing the same situation. You might think that after all the bailouts  Monte Paschi Di Siena is done, but as ever another twist arrives. LONDON/MILAN (Reuters) – Italy is working on a plan to take on about 14 billion euros ($17 billion) of UniCredit’s impaired…

[sinrau]

Since this article was published in the Tampa Bay Times ( 5/28/20 ), the average daily number of new Covid-19 cases in Florida has risen nearly tenfold.

In the second half of June, the story of the United States’ coronavirus pandemic began to shift dramatically, as a massive surge in new infections took hold, particularly across states in the South and West that had previously been spared the worst of the outbreak. Media reports abruptly switched gears from declaring that reopening was proceeding with few ill effects ( Reuters, 5/17/20; Tampa Bay Times, 5/28/20 ) to expressing alarm that health officials’ warnings against lifting social distancing restrictions too soon had been proven right—a cognitive dissonance perhaps most dramatically depicted in Oregon Public Broadcasting ’s headline, “Oregon’s COVID-19 Spike Surprises, Despite Predictions of Rising Caseloads” ( 6/10/20 ).

Increasingly, the big story has been the litany of state moves to halt or roll back reopenings: A typical roundup in the New York Times ( 6/26/20 ) included closing bars in Texas and Florida, a full stay-at-home order in California’s Imperial County, and putting beaches off-limits in Miami-Dade County for the July 4th weekend.

“This is a very dangerous time,” declared Gov. Mike DeWine of Ohio, where new cases began rising on June 15, just over a month after the state allowed stores and businesses to reopen. “I think what is happening in Texas and Florida and several other states should be a warning to everyone.”

But a warning of what? While the question of how quickly to reopen will affect potentially millions of lives, equally important is asking what science can tell us about how to reopen. Health experts point to many lessons we can learn from the pandemic experience, both in the US and elsewhere, that can help inform which activities are safest (and most necessary) to resume—a discussion that is more useful than the media’s inclination toward simple debates about whether reopening is good or bad ( LA Times, 5/14/20; New York Times, 5/20/20 ) .

Among the most important conclusions:

1. Types of reopenings matter

While the coronavirus that causes Covid-19 at first seemed like an all-powerful threat that could be carried by everything from cardboard boxes to cats, public health officials have long since determined that infection is overwhelmingly via person-to-person encounters. This means that reducing face-to-face interaction time—or ensuring that it’s at least conducted while wearing masks, or in outdoor or well-ventilated spaces—is key to reducing risk, as spelled out in a diagram by University of Massachusetts/Dartmouth infectious disease researcher and blogger Erin Bromage:

Infectious disease experts have attempted to reduce this equation to simple mnemonics that will be easy to remember; Tulane University epidemiologist Susan Hassig has cited “the three D’s: diversity, distance and duration” ( Business Insider, 6/8/20 ), while Ohio State’s William Miller created the rhyme “time, space, people, place” ( NPR, 6/23/20 ). These were featured in the increasingly common articles attempting to rank which activities were riskiest, including some that assigned weirdly specific point scales to behaviors for anyone wondering whether they should go bowling or for a pontoon boat ride ( MLive, 6/2/20 ).

A mass outbreak in a South Korean call center showed how easily the coronavirus can spread in an office environment; workspaces of infected employees are marked in blue (Business Insider, 4/28/20 ).

But most of those articles entirely ignored one of the most widespread reopening activities: going back to work in shared office spaces. Infectious disease experts say that offices can be the perfect petri dishes for viral spread, involving gatherings of a large number of people, indoors, for a long time, with recirculated air. As one study ( Business Insider, 4/28/20 ) of a coronavirus outbreak at a Seoul call center showed, the virus can quickly spread across an entire floor, especially in a modern open-plan office. In fact, the call center was doubly prone to viral spread, because its workers were all talking constantly, which previous studies have found to spread respiratory droplets just as effectively as coughing ( Better Humans, 4/20/20 )—a warning that was heavily noted in media’s coverage of the risks of chanting protestors ( Washington Post, 5/31/20; Politico, 6/8/20 ), but notably missing from articles on the reopening of workplaces.

“They’re pretty high-risk spaces,” Boston University School of Public Health epidemiologist Eleanor Murray tells FAIR. “What we would like to see with offices, if people have to be there for the function of the office to work, is to keep the minimum number of people in at any given time.” (She also urges consideration of the risk to office cleaning workers, who are seldom included in back-to-work safety debates.)

This is especially key, adds Tulane’s Hassig, in office environments where co-workers are breathing the same air. Workers can safely unmask if they’re in a private office where they can shut their door, she tells FAIR; however, “if you’re in an open office space with little four-foot cubicle walls, everybody needs to be wearing masks all the time.”

Yet most states have limited themselves to following CDC guidelines for reopening offices, which mandate wearing masks only when within six feet of a co-worker. But as Bromage ( 5/6/20 ) has pointed out, “Social distancing rules are really to protect you with brief exposures or outdoor exposures.”

In fact, former Arizona Department of Health Services director Will Humble told Newsweek ( 6/9/20 ) that one reason his state became the nation’s leader in new infections per capita was that local officials did not go beyond CDC mandates to impose “performance criteria such as required business mitigation measures, contact tracing capacity or mask-wearing.” Hassig worries that the CDC’s guidance may have been “far less prescriptive than they would like it to be from the scientific perspective,” noting that “we’ve got plenty of evidence that distance is not enough if you’re in a shared space with lots of people.”

All of this would have been good for US workers returning to their jobs to know, but very little of it has made it into media coverage of reopenings, whether before or after the recent virus spikes. And the rare exceptions often left much to be desired: When CBS News ( 5/28/20 ) devoted time to investigating the dangers of reopening offices, it was solely in terms of whether plumbing systems left stagnant during closures could lead to the spread of Legionnaires’ disease.

2. Let science, not political power, guide health decisions

Because it takes at least two to three weeks for case numbers to noticeably rise in response to a change in social distancing rules, Hassig says, states should start slowly, and wait to see if numbers rise before moving on to the next stage of reopening. “If your reopening timetable is preset, that’s somewhat of a folly,” she says. Ideally, she says, after each change in policy, states should “wait at least three weeks to make a decision before you move on, which would mean that probably you’re really looking at a month in each phase. And that is not what Texas did.”

Do you need to know whether independent health experts think this is a good idea? Apparently not (Austin American Statesman, 5/1/20 )

It’s also not how the Texas media presented reopening plans to the public. The Austin American Statesman ( 4/27/20, 5/1/20 ) dutifully listed types of businesses that would resume operations under Gov. Greg Abbott’s reopening order, but never cited any independent health officials on the risks each activity would entail. When the Dallas Morning News ( 4/30/20 ) ran answers to reader questions about the reopening, the only potential negative consequence it mentioned was whether Texans who refused to return to work could still get unemployment benefits. And the Houston Chronicle ( 4/30/20 ) declared, “No more stay-home. Just stay safe”—though the only “safety” measures it mentioned were those still being recommended by Abbott, such as wearing masks in public and limiting the size of gatherings.

The New York Times ( 5/1/20 ), meanwhile, chose to both-sides the issue with a story headlined “A Texas-Size Reopening Has Many Wondering: Too Much or Not Enough?”

In doing so, the media largely followed the lead of elected officials, who in many cases let concern over profit-and-loss statements take precedence over whether the data indicated it was safe to resume business as usual. In Ohio, state officials went so far as to allow guidelines to be written by the businesses seeking to reopen themselves ( Columbus Dispatch, 6/29/20 ), something health experts suspect helped lead to a tripling of daily new cases in the state between June 14 and June 25.

3. Learn from places that have done better

Some hard-hit European countries have had much more success with reopening than the United States, as a comparison of per capita average daily new cases shows (orange: Italy; green: Spain; red: Germany; blue: France; purple: US). (Chart: 91-VIDOC )

The Covid curves in many European and Asian nations that were hit the earliest and took the first and strongest action have remained low, despite reopenings in those nations: Italy, for example, once the world epicenter of the virus, currently has under three new cases per day per million residents, according to Johns Hopkins data —about half the infection rate for the least-hard-hit US state, Vermont.

Those nations, however, took very different approaches to reopening than the US. First off, they waited until case rates were much lower before reopening: When Italy first reopened restaurants on May 18, its daily new-case rate, averaged over the previous week, was 14.4 per million residents; when Florida did so on May 4, its average daily rate was 31.7 per million. “Where you start in terms of your case burden will probably wind up being one of the best predictors of how well your reopening went,” says Hassig.

In addition, the measures the European nations took to get cases down that low were much stricter than those ever implemented in the US—something that was largely overlooked in rundowns of nations imposing and lifting lockdowns ( New York Times, 6/10/20; CNBC, 6/25/20 ). “What we were doing in the US compared to what Europe was doing in terms of lockdown are completely different things,” says Murray:

I have friends in France, and you had to have a permit that said what time you were allowed to go to the grocery store. So even the places in the US that did a gradual opening were already starting from a much more open place than places in Europe.

US residents can also learn from areas of their own country that have done comparatively well under reopenings. Hassig notes that New Orleans and neighboring Jefferson Parish have provided an unintentional controlled experiment—albeit “a sample of one”—in the efficacy of wearing masks: “The mayor of New Orleans made masking mandatory in indoor spaces, which empowered businesses to put up signs like ‘No mask, no shoes, no shirt, no service.’”

The city, which had been an early Covid hotspot, also established a hotline to report violators, kept casinos closed longer, and kept tighter restrictions on such things as church gatherings—with the result, says Hassig, that Orleans Parish currently has less than half the new-case rate of the similarly sized Jefferson Parish. (On Monday, Jefferson Parish announced its own mandatory mask order— New Orleans Advocate, 6/29/20.)

4. Every reopening is a tradeoff

Even before most US states had shut down, Siva Vaidhyanathan (Guardian, 3/26/20 ) was warning that pitting health against the economy was a false choice.

When media outlets posit the decision facing states as balancing the economic needs with public-health needs, it not only ignores that an out-of-control pandemic would be an economic catastrophe ( Guardian, 3/26/20 ), but overlooks another important point: In reopening, governments have a limited amount of risk they can safely spread around without losing control of an outbreak. As a result, reopening decisions don’t just impact public health and the economy now—they also could end up undermining your ability to reopen other things down the road.

“It’s not ‘open’ or ‘shut’—there’s a whole spectrum in between,” says Murray. “We need to be thinking about what are the high-priority things that we need to reopen from a functioning point of view, and not an enjoyment point of view.”

If the goal is to prevent the kind of explosive surge in Covid cases that many states saw in March and April—and which are now being repeated in new hotspots in June and July—that means picking and choosing carefully, not just which activities are the safest, but which are the most urgent for a functioning society—which, it bears emphasizing, is not the same thing as what’s best for businesses’ bottom lines.

“We need to be getting dentists’ offices open and getting childcare open and getting elective medical treatment open; bars are not as important,” advises Murray. “It may be that we have to give up on some of those things to allow the risks that some of these other activities take.”

That’s a discussion that will require informed public debate on the conditions of reopening, from what should stay closed to whether to require masks. It’s a debate that will be much easier if the media spends less time on who is “winning” or “losing” in the struggle to reopen, and more on why people are getting infected—and how they could not be.

What mainstream media isn’t telling you about the risks of reopening

[bluemagic-girl]

🔥Dominic Cummings says cartoon superheroes PJ Masks could do better job than current cabinet🔥

The latest headlines in your inbox

Dominic Cummings has mocked the Cabinet saying the team of cartoon superheroes known as PJ Masks could do a better job than the current crop of ministers. 

Boris Johnson’s senior adviser made the comments ahead of a reshuffle on Thursday which is expected to see a number of ministers lose their jobs.

Downing Street confirmed the reshuffle ahead of a meeting for the new-look Cabinet on Friday.

Senior ministers including Chancellor Sajid Javid, Home Secretary Priti Patel and Foreign Secretary Dominic Raab are expected to remain in place, while Downing Street has confirmed that Grant Shapps will stay on as Transport Secretary.

Dominic Cummings, special advisor for Britain’s Prime Minister Boris Johnson, is seen outside Downing Street i (REUTERS)

Mr Cummings had reportedly been seeking a wider reshuffle and shake-up of Whitehall ministries than is now expected to be delivered.

Asked for his views, he suggested that PJ Masks – a team of animated superheroes popular with children – could do a better job than all the Cabinet.

Dominic Cummings has said PJ Masks could do a better job than the current crop of ministers. (PJ Masks)

Leaving his home in Islington, north London, Mr Cummings uttered an allusion to the theme tune of PJ Masks when asked about the HS2 high-speed rail project – which is set to go ahead despite his objections.

“The night time is the right time to fight crime,” the bemused-looking father said in a bizarre doorstep interview by the BBC. “I can’t think of a rhyme.”

This is the PJ Masks Dominic Cummings was referring to

Asked about the reshuffle, he replied: “PJ Masks will do a greater job than all of them put together.”

Mr Javid is expected to be safe at the Treasury despite his reported feud with Mr Cummings, but Defence Secretary Ben Wallace’s fate looks less certain.

The PM is widely expected to cut a number of women ministers from the eight in his 31-strong Cabinet, jeopardising the already poor gender balance.

Fearing she is among those to be cast aside, Business Secretary Andrea Leadsom issued a warning against “male-dominated” environments in a Daily Telegraph article.

A replacement Culture Secretary is also likely as the Government considers controversial changes to the BBC licence fee, with Nicky Morgan saying she expects to go.

The PM must also find a new president of the COP26 environment summit in Glasgow, having provoked an attack on his green record from former minister Claire O’Neill when he sacked her.

Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster Michael Gove appears to be the frontrunner having previously been environment secretary, but he refused to be drawn on his chances on Tuesday.

Steve Barclay will also be hoping to return to the Cabinet from the backbenches after his role as Brexit Secretary ended with the UK’s formal departure from the EU last month.

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[wayward-roonaaa]

Brother John rhyme helps teach children hand hygiene

(Reuters Health) - Singing the steps of good handwashing technique to the tune of a popular nursery rhyme ... "Are you sleeping, are you sleeping,. from Google Alert - sleeping health https://ift.tt/2ZFJbic