#Highway 76

[desert-oracle]

EPISODE #211: HORROR ON THE CALIFORNIA BACKROADS

The first new Desert Oracle Radio of the year: The strange true tale of a missing child, a newspaper that hired a talk-show psychic to find that child, and the cops reporter who covered the grim & baffling end of the case. Thanks for supporting this advertising-free show via our Desert Oracle Patreon. Soundscapes by RedBlueBlackSilver; written & produced by Ken Layne. This is This is: EPISODE…

[soulmusicsongs]

Big Mama - Almon's Jazz 8 (Sikiza Jive 76, 1976)

[classicalhighways]

AH76 between Poli Khumri and Mazar-i-Sharif, Balch Province, Afghanistan by ABDUL RAQIB SAFARI

[honeygrahambitch]

Hannibal driving from Baltimore to Quantico just because Will missed his appointment

Will's appointment is at 7.30 right? Hannibal waits for him for maybe 15-30 minutes before leaving to look for him.

And when he finds Will, he says it's nearly 9 o'clock (so maybe 8:45). So the fact that he did 76 miles (122km) in one hour is actually amazing. He was so desperate to find bae that he got into his Bentley and sped down the highway

[daryldixonfanfiction]

What you fight for! Pt.7 - strawberries and cigarettes *18+

Masterlist

summary: Daryl tries to keep it in his pants, buts it's more then difficult when the girl hes crushing on is indulging a certain candy next to him.

Warnings: a steamy lollipop moment in Daryl's pov, Daryl is obsessed with her curly hair, angst, pining, sexual themes in dreams and thoughts, Daryl has thoughts of having her in the backseat, protective!Daryl, age gape, Daryl being a softy and a gentleman, mentions of bruise, brief mentions of almost previous rape.

wc: 6.9k

Daryl found it hard to focus on the road. 

The sun glowed on her just right, and when it hit her brown eyes she looked angelike, her curls glowing like a golden halo. He wanted to move his fingers true her curly hair, smell that soothing scent of shampoo, pull back the two strands of looks that had fallen into her soft brown eyes behind her ear. 

Oh, how he craved to touch her. 

He should stop before he drives them into a tree - and he does so by pulling his lingering gaze away from her back on the road. She obliviously looked at the map in her lap, because he had told her to, even though he didn't actually need help in navigation. But he was selfish and wanted her to ask him questions about where they were going as it was mostly the only time she would talk. 

He had notest her becoming more quiet, avoiding his gaze and he knew it was his doing of his pore words from that morning. But he never intended for this and the more she distanced herself from him the more he felt drawn to her, wanting her to look at him, engage in conversations. And when they had been smothered in silence that he before had no problem with, he would ask her how much longer before he had to take another road,  even though he already knew the answer. But he couldn't help himself when the look of accomplishment covered her lips, her eyes and her face and even if it was subtle, he always caught it and he would smile to himself because she was just…perfekt. 

He noticed how she would get lost in the scenery speeding by her window and how she was engrossed in writing and drawing when there wasn't much else to do. She leaned against the window once more, gazing to the outside fields and he did the same without notesting, mirroring her against his own window. Then a rumbelle from her stomach broke the silence in the humming vehicle they had been smothered in sins she had told him to turn left and follow highway 76. He suppressed a chuckle, glancing her way as he drove with his one hand firmly on the wheel.

"There's some protein bars in the back,” Daryl offered, still looking ahead.

Julia shakes her head, “I’m not that hungry.” She denied softly, but her stomach rumbling again told a different story - and she kicked herself inwardly as she felt heat begin to blossom on her cheeks. Embarrassed of being caught in a silly lie she didn't know no way she felt the need to lie about in the first place. It was stupid. But Daryl didn't say anything and instead reached behind her seat and easily took out three bars from his pack, then offered them. She hesitated, then gave in. 

“Thank you.” She said, taking one from his hand.

The sweet and tasteful chocolate-bar melted in her mouth, the nuts crunched satisfyingly with every chew. As she glanced towards Daryl, watching how he ripped the package open with his teeth, tossing the raper aside and shocked to see how he finish it of with onely tree bites as she still was on her first. She found it amusing how he always ate so care free with no manners, how he smotherd the melted chocolate on his fingers against his pants that would have been avoided if he had kept the raper on. But of course he wouldn't, it was Daryl after all.

Dragging the back of his hand over his mouth, she couldn't help but let out a little chuckle notesting it did nothing to clean the residue of the melted chocolate on the corner of his mouth. Just like a child. Daryl glanced her way in question, 

“What’s so funny?” He asked with some still in his mouth.

Julia shakes her head, still smiling as she stares at the smudged chocolate spot. It was just adorable and he didn't even know it. She pointed to her own mouth, making him look at himself in the rear view mirror to see what she was referring to - making him wipe it off with his sleeve. Then began to dig into his second bar and Julia watched in amusement at his clear liking to sweets. When he finished it, he checked himself in the mirror making sure this time he got it all.

Puting the raper neatly away in her bag she then shugged some water down, the chocolate making her terribly thirsty and when she finished, about to put the lid bak on, Daryl nudged her arm, his hand oustreched towards her.

“Give me some.”

Julia handed him the bottle of water without much thought and never before has she seen someone down water that fast. Like he had been deprived of water like a man lost in the desert. And it was impossible to not stare at his adamsappel bobbing up and down his throat with every gulp he swallowed. Her fingers itched to touch him, but she pulled herself together. He held the water bottle to his mouth unaware of her sinfully drooling over how his bicep flexed. The fabric on the denim jacket looked like it would burst. He looked so strong and firm without even trying - and she couldn't help but to remember how bulky he felt under her touche when he had been on top of her, thrusting inside of her. and even then he had been so gentle. 

Daryl drank until the need for oxygen was unbearable, handing back an almost empty bottle and offered an out of breath, “Thank’s,” wiping away the axes' water on his lips.

And she aced for his lips to be on hers once more.

“Oh,” She said, snapping out of her engrossed daydream and putting back the water bottle in her pack, suddenly feeling the need to busy herself, beginning writing down the first thing she knew she would need on their journey or she would bleed true her pants eny day now. 

And her prayers must have been heard when Daryl not long after stopped at an abundant gas station that was looted with abundant cars.

Finding the auto store loted but walker free Daryl gave her the ‘okey’ to stay inside as he began to siphon fuel from the cars outside. Julia didn't waste any time, beginning to go to the shelves that were mostly empty, but when she found a big box of tampons she almost squealed as she no longer needed to dred of what she would do when her monthly came. The only thing she hoped to find but didn't was painkillers, but she knew she could handle the cramps even though hers tended to be severe sometimes - to the extent of throwing up and almost fainting.

After having consumed all that water earlier nature called and she moved to the ladies room in the back. She knew the place was empty as Daryl had cleared it, but she couldn't help from being hesitant when entering.

Having the rare moment of privacy, away from his watchful eye she pulled out the gun she had taken in secret, back at the house. Knowing he would take it the moment he knew she had it. 

She had never handled a gun before, the only knowledge of it was from action movies and watching others kill walkers. She had taken it because after what happened she wanted to feel safe, to protect herself and him if it came to it. But she knew she would not kill someone, it felt impossible to do so inside herself. 

Somehow she managed to take the fully loaded klip out, fumbling with the disarmed gun clumsy. It felt surprisingly heavy and smelld of gunpowder and metal. Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror the gun looked out of place in her hands, it felt as if she did something she shouldn't. 

Even though she knew she was free to do whatever she wanted, there was this obligation to do what he said, because he kept her safe and he knew more about all this than she did and she had agreed to do what he said when it came to going on this journey - to find the scientists that had become her life purpose. So for now she hid the gun away in her pack once more, hoping she would never have to use it.

…

Exiting the auto shop she moves towards Daryl, who is siphoning fuel into a red dunk. He looks up at her and regards her before questioning,

“Everything okay?”

Julia could feel herself getting nerves, worried he had already smelled the secret she was keeping from him.

“Mmmh,” she assures, “Why do you ask?”

“You were gone for a while. Was almost  going to look for ya if you took any longer.” 

Oh.

She watched as he leaned his back against the car, waiting for the dunk to get filled as he lightened a smoke, cupping his hand to shield it from the wind.

It should be illegal how he made a bad habit look so good. And wasn't it dangerous to smoke while handling gas? But she knew better than to question him.

Thinking about it she never knew he smoked, but on the other hand a lot of people did. Daryl took a long drag before letting the smoke pass true to his lips, the smoke cloud blowing away with the wind. And she couldn't help but notice how it made him relax, look more at ease. 

Roaming true her bag, Julia offers one of her lollipops she had found on her way out. Daryl stared at the pink and read raped up candy in her hand, shooting her a confused look. She offered  him a soft smile and insisted,

“Here.”

“Na, I’m good,” he drawls, blowing the white smoke away from her direction.

Unwrapping the candy, as he crosses his arms over his broad chest with the sig still between his lips, she looked at the half full dunk then to the siphon and asked curiously, 

“How does it work?”

“The siphon?

“Yeah,” she confirms, placing her pack on the car and plops the candy into her mouth. Daryl explains as he lets the sigaret hang from his lips,

“It’s when liquid travels against gravity.” He began, “mmh hmm,” Julia hums. “The liquid travels up and over the crest of the tube, the weight of the liquid goes into this,” he points to the red dunk, “It pulls the rest of it over the crest, causing the tank to drain.”

Julia swirls the candy in thought as he puts the lid back on the filled up dunk and takes the tube out of the filler neck opening and continues to the next car to fill another dunk of fuel. Julia follows, caring the heavy dunk and Daryl questions as he works the tube down the tank,

“You understand?”

“Well…only the part about liquid traveling against gravity,” she confessed, putting the dunk bak on the ground “The rest was too… complicated.” 

He hummed in acknowledgement, then put the tube to his mouth, sucking the fuel out, then let it drain out into the dunk and spat out the burning taste of gas.

Daryl leans against the car just like he did before and Julia glanced at his side profile. Silently studying him from head to toe. He was a very handsome man, smart. It felt like he had experienced far more of life than she had, had so much knowledge, had the answer to her every question and always knew what to do. 

She found him so capable. Safe. Everything a man should be she saw in him.

The taste of sweet cherry ingolfs her mouth and she takes the candy out to speak,

“Maybe next time I can fill up one du-

“Na,” Daryl cut her off. “You don’t need to be doing shit like that. Gas ain’t good for ya.”

“Gas isn't good for you either, you know.” Julia countered and Daryl gave her a look making her drop it knowing he wouldn't change his mind. She just wanted to be helpful when he did so much. Protecting her, going on this journey.

Plopping the candy back into her mouth she put her pack back on and the dunk along to start refiling the truck. But before she reached the truck, Daryl had caught up to her and took the heavy dunk from her grasp, caring both effortlessly.

“Thanks,” she said looking up at him and he gave her nood in response.

“Can you hand me that funnel?” Daryl asked her, handling the dunks to refuel the truck. "It's in the back.”

“Okay,” she responds and retrieves the funnel to him, happy that she helped in any way.

…

It had been a good day so far, but still the sadness creeped in when there was nothing occupying her wandering mind. She had tried to distract herself in the journal, but when she realized she was drawing his eyes that she found so beautiful, she put it back in her pack and just stared out the window, watching Virginia's landscape speed by, In hop of thinking of anything else that didnt pain her heart.

What confused her the most was how could he be so normal about what had happened between them, how he kept being close to her even though he had told her it was wrong? And she just didn't understand. Nothing made sense any more. All she knew was she liked him and he didn't reciprocate those feelings, not in the way she wanted him to. And why did he all of a sudan wanna be close, talking more than he had done with her before? It made her distancing herself from him so much harder, painful even when she was so drawn to him. Maybe she would forget about her unrequited feelings for him if he wasn't being so kind, so protective and if he wasn't currently staring her way. She wished for him to keep his pools of deep blue on the road.

She could feel his gaze making a home on the back of her haid, but she couldn't look at him right now, because, if so, she feared for her feelings to deepen even more and it would all be so much more painful in the end. And she wondered, when someone rejected someone, wasn't the normal thing to do, not to give the other mixed signals - to keep to their words of rejection and regret? 

Virginia. America's heartland.  It's late autumn scenery was breathtaking and even more so in the golden sunset and for a moment she just admired the view. Thinking about everything and nothing at once while tasting another lollipop that tasted of strawberries. Her grandparents used to grow them.

–

Daryl struggled once again to keep his focus on the road. And even more so when she was so carelessly sucking on that damn candy stick. Making sinful sounds every time she would drag  it between her plump lips that he knew were soft, because he had tasted them that night he could not get out of his mind.

The memory forever plays on repeat.

She was just like candy, sweet and addictive. But he would not let himself give into that craving. Even though every time he would nudge her to get her attention, just to make her look at him, hear her soft voice and he knew he wasn't truly keeping to his own promise. It wouldn't be long before he broke it. 

No.

He wouldn't let himself do that. 

He couldn't.

He had to protect her from himself. 

He would only end up hurting her more then he already had. She deserves someone that was worthy of her soft-heartedness, her untainted soul. And he knew he wasn't worthy of her kindness, that he never would be, so he had to draw the line. Telling her it had been wrong because she deserves someone who was as good as her, he would never be that. All he could do was to protect her, do whatever it took in order to keep her safe, and he had already failed her in that. 

It ate at him, gilt burning in his gut every time he would stare at her for too long and he would see that bruise on her delicate throat that had turned bluish purple. Now and again he would catch her unintentionally scratching it, making him worry it was hurting. 

That picture of her underneath that monster, pushing her down on the bed, forcing her legs open as she fought against him, silenced with that disgusting man's hand around her throat. And if he haven’t followed his gut filing to go into that room when he had she would have been raped and killed and God knows what more by the other men in the house. And it felt like he was more traumatized than she was which worried him. 

She had been deathly quiet just after he dragged her out of the house but then it was like it never had happened in the first place. Because of course she was so selfless and good - and all she did was to care for him, soothing him with her kind words and her soft touch.

He will forever be undeserving of her.

And that was when he realized how strong someone could be without any physical strength. That her emotional strength was something far beyond, something he needed and never wanted to live without. When he thought about it she had always seen through him, been there for him when he had been weak, vulnerable and he could only feel undeserving, but it had meant everything to him.

He flexed his wrapped up hand, and even though his knuckles were aching all he could think of was her touch from the night before. When she had told him it would not heal and then softly wrapped it up again. He had been close to kissing her then, too close. Just by her touch she had him folded, and how she looked at him with her kind eyes, he knew he would do anything she asked. He would bring the moon down for her if she so desired, and he had never felt something so strong and so delicate for someone else, and that scared him in a way. Because he knew there would be no limits for what he would do in the name of her. 

After all, he already had. With no regret - no second thought. It had been cristall clear of what he had to do in order to insure her safety.

Did she even know what she was doing to him? 

What was she putting him through?

And right now she was putting him in true hell and she had been doing so sins she had found them damned lollipops she had found in the auto-shop. The strawberry scent filled his nostrils and he could feel himself hardening in his jeans at the sight of her sinfully sucking on that candy that he wished was himself. But he wouldn't let his mind go there, not any further at least. But then the thought of the candy being his finger she was sucking on as she deeply locked eyes with him - or even better, if it was-

He shook his head to himself, trying to think of anything but that, because if he did he would stop the car, show her what she was doing to him as he would have her over and over again in the backseat until she begged him with her sweat voice, chanting his name like a prayer over and over until she fell apart under his touch.

Fuck.

He closed his eyes then looked her way and he shouldn't have. Because when he did so, she plopped the candy out of her mouth, a string of saliva followed, her lips pretty and swole glistening with the red color of the candy that just begged him to give in, inviting him.

Damnit. 

He had to do something, he could not take this much longer. A beautiful, naive girl inches from him, sucking on a lollipop like it was him. Firmly Daryl tries to get her attention by calling her name but she is somewhere else in her pretty little head, thinking of something so interesting she didn't hear the second time either, making him become incredibly frustrated. So with no option left he reaches over and takes the candy out of her mouth, being met with her pretty bambi eyes and surprise written all over her soft features.

“Hey! What are you doing?” She questions.

“You are supposed to be keepen your eyes on the map.” 

He should be keeping his eyes on the road.

Julia rolls her eyes, then looks at him and demands, “Give it back.”

“Nah.”

“What do you mean, Nah?” She tries to snatch it back, but his arm being superiorly taller than hers makes her groan in frustration when it was impossible to reach.

Then she tries a different tactic by pulling at his jacket by his biceps, and even though she pulled with all of her might with both of her hands to get it back, it did nothing.

“Daryl!” Julia whines and his eyes almost roll back to the sound of it, “Comon, Daryl! Give it back!”

Still holding on to his clothed bicep she looked up at him with big puppy eyes, her brows furrowed, “Please,” she begs. And there was an immediate reaction as she did so, even though his face became unreadable, his arm felt like it was flexing even more in her hold. 

His eyes went back and forth between her and the road they were still driving on and Daryl fought for his life not to fold. Julia could feel him giving in slowly but surely. She then tilts her head at him and bats her eyelashes, “Pretty please? Pretty, pretty please?”

She could see him visibly swallow before he looked away from the road looking down at her and she knew if she wanted a chance it would be now when he was completely disarmed, the focus on her and not on the candy he had taken hostech. And the way he decided to do so was beyond her.

As she tried to snatch it back, it was as if all of a sudden he snapped back to reality - and before she could attempt to stop him, he told her with that stupid smirk that looked so good,

“Nah,” plopping the candy into his mouth, making her frown in complete frustration with this ever confusing man that was probably around the same age as her dad - that more acted as a child. 

Daryl couldn't help but be amused by her pouting. He knew she was upset but he was left with no other choice. And the way she looked when she got mad was the most adorable thing he'd seen. Even though he knew he shouldn't - but he so badly wanted to see her frown with her soft features, see her wrinkle her nose and hear her whining that made his eyes roll back, imagining her beneath him.

What was this girl doing to him? 

…

As the last light dips beneath the horizon, Daryl spots a fighting spot by the edge of the forest. He drives them off the road true the open grassland into the protection of tall pine trees. 

The engine hums into silence as Julia's eyes almost drift close. Daryl's voice stopping her from doing so,

"We'll stop here tonight.” Daryl informed. 

Julia yawned, “We aren’t there yet?” 

“Nah, common.”  Daryl's answers as he gathers his pack. "Let's set up camp so you can get some shut eye.”

“I’m not even tired,” Julia argues.

Setting up camp Julia began to feel a heavy sense of dread and she didn't understand way. Last night was no problem, neither was the night before, so why was today different?  

They arrange their sleeping bags after dinner. Daryl dimmed the lantern to its lowest setting, creating just enough light to not be swallowed by the night. 

The dark, the cold, and the vulnerability of being asleep all made Julia very uneasy. She couldn't help but fight sleep even though being terribly tired. The thought of possibly being woken by a living nightmare, like she had been in that car when she was taken, disoriented and frightened, and in the house she had thought it would be safe enough to rest. 

That happening again, struck a fear so deep she didn't know if she ever could be okay.

Julia stared into the darkness of the forest, tall trees surrounding them. But then she looked up and the sky was clistar clear, stars shining brightly, forming constellation after constellation. She counted them, like sheep before one fell asleep. Her mind calmed enough for her eyes to get heavy, her breathing slowed down until she finally drifted into a deep sleep that she hoped would take her far away from the fear of nightmares she had experienced and the heartache that troubled her so deeply.

–

Daryl watches over her as she sleeps soundly, protected by the warmth of the sleeping bag he was happy he could provide. He washes her face twitch and how the steady pace of her breathing moves her form up and down. Her face looked so peaceful, so beautiful and serene, without a care in the world. 

Her hair fell in her face making her frown. Daryl tucked the curls away, pooting the hair behind her ear. Soft. He gently caressed her cheek and just admired her there and the beauty she possessed. 

He could stare at her for hours and never get enuff.

–

Julia was woken by his warm touch on her face. 

His fingers gently dancing along her skin. They were lying on their sides, facing one another, gazing deeply into eachothers eyes. Her heart drummed in her ears, butterflies dancing in her stomach. And for the first time she smiled at him and he returned it just as softly as his thumb dragged along her lower lip, slow and gentle, making her close her eyes, and just focus on his touch.

The only man she would let her touch her like this was him, and only him, no one else.

Oh, how she had missed this. 

Missed him. 

And she was so happy. 

A soft giggle escaped her lips as she returned to deeply gazing up at him. Daryl Dixon, was the most beautiful man she had ever laid her eyes upon. There was this rare beauty in his deep blue eyes that looked so softly at her she feared she would melt. The way his hair curtend his dashing face and the way his stubble framed his jaw so handsomely and the lines of aging had her admiring each and every single one. 

Daryl watches her back, his blue eyes wandering across her face down her neck. He softly touched the bruise on her trout. Creating goosebumps there, making her shiver of simply his touch. She shuts her eyes for a moment and sighs contently as she lens into it.

His pupils are blown with desire, his jaw clenched and muscles tensing as if he’s trying to hold himself back, and he tells her, his voice deep and rubeling,

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me, do yah?”

And Julia simply smiles softly, before leaning up and presses her mouth to his cheek. His hand on her neck shot out, and she jolted when he pulled her in by cradling her head, leaning in and kissing her just like he did that night. Hungry and starving.

And oh, it was heavenly. 

Her hands fist’s on his color as his tongue danced with hers, his other hand tilting her chin up to get better axes. His stubble tickled her, but she could care less. Because finely, finely, his lips had returned to hers and she wished for it to never stop. 

The warmth of Daryl’s body pressed against hers creates a safe haven, momentarily replacing the fears with the undeniable comfort he provides. The dread and the fear melts away, it feels like she can finally breathe without her heart strings being pulled.

His nose pressed into her skin as they kissed, and he spoke even though his lips weren't the ones talking. And she didn't understand. Then, when his lips began to fade and his face began to blur and the voice calling her name from some distant place, repeatedly calling for her as she was shaken. She opened her eyes, meeting his ocean blues staring down on her newly woken form, as she was blinking past the wetness in her eyes.

“Hey, hey.” He soothed softly, worry covering his features and Julia realized she had been crying, but it had been tears of joy, of happiness. But being met with the reality it had all been just a dream, more felt like it was breaking her heart. Because it had been too good to be true. What she had longed for to be real. And she knew he would never reciprocate those feelings, touch her that way, nor kiss her like her heart aced for so terebully.

Now real tears did fall and the ace was once more heavy in her chest. She tried to blink them all away, but the wetness just kept coming, making her cheeks raw and her vision blurry. She wished she could have more control of her emotions, but it was all too much, overwhelming her like it had never done before. She had never had such a vivid dream and woke up crying this way. And it didn't make it easier with him drying her tears away as he softly rubbed the back of her hand,

“Hey, hey. It was only a bad dream, you're okay. I got you. I got you.”

As her tears began to slow and she had calmed enough to speak, she took a shaky breath,

“It was a happy dream.”

He searched her face - then, “You’re crying,” Daryl stated, 

He had been terribly worried when he saw her serin face turn into her crying in her sleep. He had panicked, anxiety spiking as he shook her awake. Fearing she was reliving the horror she had been true. So he didn't understand when she told him ‘it was a happy dream’. 

One last tear fell and he wiped it away - watching how she closed her eyes as his thumb lingered there - simply because he couldn't handle seeing her sad. It crushed him in a way he didn't know he could feel. But then she looked deeply into his eyes, her brown eyes shining as she smiled sadly and she told him, 

“Because I wished it was real.”

Daryl froze at her words.

Her confession sent guilt spireling, digging into him deeply - a confession he knew the reason behind, because her eyes looked just as sad as they did that morning, when she had been so happy and he just went ahead and ruined it all.

This was why she was crying.

Because of him. 

Because of what he had said.

There was so much he wanted to say but he didn't know how to. To confess what he truly felt inside. But he was teribull with words. He would only mess up again, creating more harm than good. 

Julia lowered her eyes to turn away from him. She didn't know how much more of this she could take before it all became too much again. And there was shame in how she had dreamed of him in that way, like it was rong, just like he had said. Then before she could do so, he pulled her in by the waist into his arms,

“Come here,” he said softly. 

She was surprised but didn't shy away from his hand holding her lower back, pressing her body into his warm chest and her head beneath his chin. Her hand naturally fists his jacket as the other was curled into herself. His steady heartbeat and his calming breath soothes her until she falls asleep in his arms. 

…

Daryl woke up to sunlight. 

He didn't sleep as much as he should have. There had been too much on his mind keeping him awake. Julia was already awake, cooking them breakfast as she did her morning routine, fixing her hair for the day, and brushing her teeth. 

Finishing her second braid with a rosette of some white fabrike she continued to stir the oatmeal. Her hair looked longer this way and her aperens even softer, if that even was possible? Plaiting two portion of breakfast Daryl seated himself as she turned down the gas stove,

“You're up early,” he said and Julia handed him his plate, along with a spoon.

“Yah. I was so hungry I thought I was going to die if I didn't get up and make something.”

Daryl hummed and dug in. They both ate in a comfortable silence as the morning sun brightened up another day - though the noticeable chillier weather and natural light had become darker by each passing day. 

Julia rinsed the dishes in the nearby stream as Daryl packed up the truck for their continued journey..

…

Silens was unending inside the car.

Julia was being avoidant, not once looking his way. It bothered him. She had been sad - and in the morning he had been naive and thought everything was going to be okay. But the way she looked far away through the window, he knew she was far from it. 

She didn't draw nor write that he knew she liked to spend her time doing. She just started with a map in her lap, with that look in her eyes. He wanted to do something, but didn't know how to, it felt like he never did.

Hours passed on. Daryl drifted away in his own thoughts as julias gaze never left the window.

Boredom eventually makes Julia move her attention from the tree's speeding bay and opens the glove compartment, finding a cassette. She studies it in her hands before putting it back. As she reaches forward to do so, Daryl stops her.

“Let’s hear it,” he encourages. “Could be something worth listening to.”

Julia gives him an unsure look. Hesitating before she puts it into the player. Daryl presses play and turns up the volume. The car fills with tons of an old song he hasn't heard since his mother was alive. 

‘Love will abide, take things in stride.

Sounds like good advise

But there's knowone there by my side’

He leans back in his seat, his left hand on his thigh, tapping along to the all familiar rhythm as he sighs in content. Julia thinks he doesn't like the music that's playing and moves to turn it off.

“Oh, no wait,” he stops her, “No, leave it. Leave it. Oh this is good. This is Linda Ronstadt. Do you know who Linda Rondstadt is?”

“Yeah, I’ve listened to some of her songs.” Julia finally says, “This is my favorite song of hers.”

Daryl hums, smiling as a memory pups up in his head. He rarely remembered good things of his childhood but he could clearly remember his mom singing along as she did laundry in the summer sun. It was before she had turned to drinking wine, when she still smiled and still sang - wearing that yellow sundress she always wore in the summer, that his father didn't approve of, due to his jealous tendencies and her beauty that had everyone turning their heads. 

God, his mother was beautiful. 

She will forever be the most beautiful woman he’ll ever see. But from the moment Julia passed true the prison gates - there it was. That familiar beauty he couldn't put his finger on, but it was there and he had tried to deny it. Now being with her, he knew, and there was no denying. So he simply admired her from afar, quietly, or at least tried to. 

He would not put his feelings into words, because there were not enuff words that could possibly be enuff, no words that would do her justice. Neither would he be close - like he craved for so badly. The only exception had been last night. He had to, because he couldn't handle her sadness, the tears in her eyes. He was in agonizing pain, because he knew if he gave in like he had done, he would only hurt her, maybe even lose her. He didn't know how, but he knew good things never last for him. Not for Dixons. It never had.

Song after song played in the care. Julia didn't seem as sad nor quiet. She seemed to forget her sadness as she mindlessly sang along the country tunes. It was as if she had forgotten he was there or maybe she wasn't aware she was singing? But he didn't care. Her voice was so beautiful he never wanted her to stop.

The last song comes to an end, the car once more smothered in  humming from the engine. Julia washes a distance hurd endlessly walks true overgrown fields in the horizon. He notices the change in her demeanor. He worries the sadness in her eyes had returned, that he could no longer distract it with music that had seemed to work so well. But then Julia lens back in her seat to lock true the wind shield and she is the one that asked him a question and even though it's isn't much it’s something and she asks him,

“What if we don’t find them? What if they're gone?”

“We're gonna find them.” He tells her matter of factly.

“How do you know?” 

“I’m persistent.” 

And Julia knew that he was a very capable man. He was a tracker after all. This was what he did best. But she couldn't help but to feel this doubt the closer they were, fearing she would yet again get her hopes up only to be left disappointed. To be left with the dread, of what would be the point of going on, what would be her purpose in life, her driving force if not she could save humanity and make everything right.

“And what if they're not in Pittsburgh?”

“We continue west. Wyoming.”

Julia nods, tracing their way west from highway 70 to 76. It would be a long drive, maybe 25h, but she prefers that then walking true six states that would take them months.

“So, we're in Wyoming then?”

“Somewhere close to Cody.” Daryl tells her and Julia begins to look at the state maps to get a closer look. And when she locates it with her finger, Daryl senses her question,

“If we don't find them there, the odds are they will be holding up in another hospital in a nearby city. Ain’t to many of ‘em in Wyoming.”

Julia hums with her eyes on the map, “Chee-Yen,” She tries to word one of the cities.

“Cheyenne.” Daryl corrects her.

“Che-” she begins "really?" Daryl looks at her and nods in confirmation. 

Julia continues naming the cities, “Cheyenne…Laramie…Casper–  Julia puts down the map book in her lap, her hands resting on top of it, “Way are you doing all of this?”

Daryl looks at her, taken back by her straightforward question. And he didn't know what to say. Or more, how to say it.

“Seems like the right thing is all.” 

Julia studies him, something is different, she can feel it, but she was so curious remembering how he had been so dismissive of this in the beginning. When he told her to forget it, that it would get her killed in the end.

“What do you mean?”

And Daryl wished for her to stop asking questions. To stop being so curious. Even though he had been the one that had longed for conversations in their smothered silence.

“You know.” He simply told her. As if it would shut her up before she would find out the real reason, his deepest truth that needed to be kept from her.

“What?” She pushed on and Daryl relents with the half hearted truth,

“I thought it was nuts. But then…

“Then?” She prompts eagerly.

Daryl sighs softly as he squints against the midday sun, “Then your scar convinced me I guess. That it’s real. And I believe youre doing the right thing… That maybe… a cure is possible.”

His confession made her smile brightly at him, and he thought for a moment time had stopped. He wanted to kiss her, stroke her soft cheeks, feel her pigtail braids between his fingers. His heart beating so hard against his chest he worried she could hear it.

“You really believe I’m doing the right thing?” She asked, hope glittering in her eyes.

“Yah,” he said earnestly, making Julia's heart swell. 

"Yah it is,” she echoed,  “I’m gonna make it right again, for the ones we lost. I want to give people a chance. That’s all I want… Do you think that’s too much to ask for?”

“No,” he said. Because anything she asked for was his life mission. Seeing her like this, with hope in her eyes and a peace in her smile he couldn't feel anything but to do right by her.

Pt.8 Masterlist

[brainrot-goes-brrrrrr]

Savannah Squad Presentation Night Headcanons/Drabble [2/3]

it has been forever :'D (everyone say thank you to @moonbiine)

ANYWAYS, here's part 2 :}

Part 1: Taylor & Logan Part 2: Ben & Tyler Part 3: Aiden & Ashlyn [WIP]

Logan's POV

Two hours and twenty-eight minutes. It has been two hours and twenty-eight minutes and we've been stuck at 76% complete for forty minutes. Whoever made Windows deserves to burn and I stand by that, cause what do you mean that they can push an update and force restart my laptop.

"Logan when was the last time you updated this?" "Logan, why are there fifteen updates that need to be downloaded?" "Bro, when was the last time you actually shut down your laptop?" ... "I've been busy, okay--"

So it might be my fault. Partially. I will admit that much, but the laptop's never given me a problem before and it was running fine. It's just old, and has a few odd... kinks? I mean, the left half of the mousepad is jammed to the point where it can't click, and, sure, the screen does go black every now and again, but just hit it a few times it works! It's character, charm even (and I can't be bothered to fix it...)!

It was, honest to God, easier for Aiden to run back to his place and grab his laptop.

"So we agree that Logan is off electronic duty right?" Taylor had asked as Ben was setting up the other computer to the television screen with Aiden helping. It was a unanimous decision. Ben and Aiden are the new tech guys.

"Yeah, that's probably for the better," I had conceded.

Ben Clarke

Ben goes next because he saved the groups sanity by suggesting that Aiden just gets his laptop. Everyone, thank Ben for the night not failing.

To address the obvious, Ben has a text to speech app on his phone, which is connected to a speaker, that he uses to present. I will say that there is a sort of humor in this for two reasons. One, the voice can either be monotoned like a typical text-to-speech program with funny pronunciation errors, or two, it will sound like one of those videos on tiktok where an AI is reading a tumblr post about SuperBats or something and gets progressively more expressive as time goes on. Personally, I want to hear exasperated robot Ben voice explaining to Aiden why "Life is a Highway" on repeat can and will be considered a torture method.

Ben's music taste is GODLY. And he's more of a eclectic listener too so he has experience with a good amount of genres. This man does not bash other genres of music that he doesn't care for, he thinks its rude to the person he's talking to and to the artist.

Aiden is the exception to this rule^^

DESPISES having to subscribe to music platforms. What do you mean that you can't listen to a song on repeat without paying, what do you mean that you will interrupt his carefully crafted playlist with a recommended song that does not fit the vibe. This end up derailing his presentation couple times.

He has a set criteria that he judges on: length, vibes, transitions, and replayability. Good playlists should at minimum be an hour, have similar vibes/sound while still being unique, the transitions between songs shouldn't be jarring, and the playlist shouldn't be painful to listen to after a month.

Taylor and Ashlyn helped him judge everyone's playlists by acting as secondary perspectives. Taylor is more open to everyone's music tastes while Ashlyn scrutinizes them more. They pretty much just took a playlist that everyone listens to regularly, one that they made but listen to it every so often, and their liked songs.

I would also like everyone to remember that the series is set in 2016... they would have songs mostly from the 2000s-2010s with the exceptions of some 90s and 80s songs. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, I'm just saying that I looked up 2010s hit songs and I'm filled with nostalgia.

Overall, Ben's criticisms and recommendations are genuinely thoughtful. Especially the recommendations. For each person, after critiquing their playlists, Ben made a slide of genres and artists that each person should check out to expand their tastes.

(I'll probably make a bit about what songs were on their playlist, idk tho)

Group Reaction (how they ranked in comparison to each other)

Personally, Tyler and Logan getting the best ratings because their playlists are very consistent in their vibes and are replayable. I also think that Ben's music taste fits the most with these two for some reason, so they got the most song recs out of everyone.

Ashlyn is third in the ranking. She has one or two that she listens to occasionally, and they're pretty short. They are absolute polar opposites though. One of the playlists is rock, since she canonically likes Paramore (if you don't, get well soon), and the other is classical music for her ballet performances.

Taylor is next. Her playlist isn't bad, its just... a bit everywhere. Like it starts pretty good, but you can tell that somewhere along the lines of creating this playlist she just added songs that she remembered that she likes. It mostly fits the same genre. Ben makes her a more organized playlist after the presentation.

Aiden is dead last. It's not because his music taste is shit. Aiden actually has a pretty good music taste. No. Its because he only listens to his liked songs on repeat like a monster. It is musical whiplash. You go from a movie theme song, to crying, to listening to white girl club music, to rock, to crying again, and then for some reason the Home Depot jingle???? The only playlists that he makes are for jokes really. Do you know the John Mulaney bit where he plays "What's New Pussycat?" 27 times. Yeah, that's Aiden.

Tyler Hernandez

Tyler's next, and, I'm letting you know now that he sprayed the fuck out of Aiden for interrupting. Yeah, Ash pulled them a part.

Motherfucker is so pleased with himself, like its honestly so funny. Aiden had him by the collar and Tyler was just fucking smiling. Taylor does throw her slipper at him for being rude, but he could honestly care less.

The slideshow itself is the most soulless thing ever made, man used the Blank Google Slides template and called it a day. Like one stock image on each slide, and its so pixelated. He probably did it like an hour ago. That's why his presentation is funny because he's just jabbing at Aiden over and over with a basic slideshow that you'd see someone pull out in a Spanish 1-2 class.

You know what? He probably had another presentation about what piercing he think would suit the group best, and just did this one out of spite cause Aiden was being loud. I take back my previous statement about him doing it an hour before getting to Logan's place, he did this on his PHONE WHEN THE LAPTOP WAS UPDATING!!!! Like Logan was taking a walk, Ben was trying to fix the computer, the girls went to make sandwiches, Aiden was running errands, and Tyler made this in an hour.

His presentation is based off a tier system where it gets more effective with each method. Methods 1-3 are pretty basic where its just stuff like duct taping his mouth shut, 4 and onwards just gets funny

I'll be completely honest, each way he put is wild, and it gets progressively more deranged as the presentation goes on. These one's my favorite

"Number 9: Dying You know, I thought this would be the best way, but the bastard got crushed by a ceiling and walked it off. I want you to try and convince me that Aiden wouldn't crawl out of hell just to ruin my day. " "Number 10: Put him in a room alone with Ashlyn's mom and dad *insert a picture of Aiden sitting not so comfortably in between Ashlyn's parents* I don't even think I need to say anything else, I mean, I will, but like... look at him"

This is honestly the shortest presentation of the night but so far it's the most chaotic (he will quickly lose this title).

Tyler went through two spray bottles, mainly for Aiden, but he did spray Taylor once or twice. She threw a shoe at him. It's only fair.

Groups Reaction

Aiden is standing to the side with a towel around himself because Logan said his grandparents would kill them for ruining their couch. He's not exactly pissed but he is kind of sulking. Honestly this just makes his presentation so much better for him.

You know how Tyler asked for suggestions in the beginning, Ben and Ashlyn give him genuine ideas. Mainly Ben, just out of good humor you know. And Tyler's taking notes.

Taylor is giggling, but she does feel a bit bad for Aiden. At some point she gives him a consolation sandwich to raise his spirits.

Logan, however, doesn't and he's just quietly enjoying the scene that's unfolding around him.

The end of these two presentations are by far more chaotic than the first two, and it feels like its only going to get worse from here(/pos). Because right now Aiden is fighting with Tyler, getting him soaked too, Taylor is filming them while Logan provides commentary, and Ashlyn is standing with Ben setting up the next powerpoint.

While it was initially decided that Aiden would go last, Ashlyn suggested that she and him switch. Mainly so that he can drip dry while presenting, and sit down when he's done.

Aiden is following a presentation that was just jabbing at him, how do you think his is going to end up now?

[thedevilslunch]

Ramirez failed after two tries to pass the 9th grade. He left Jefferson High at age 17.

'I knew him in '76 when he was here,' said Cesar Mendoza, longtime assistant principal. 'He was a quiet guy, never got involved in violence, vandalism ... I had to call him in as a truant, cutting classes, being absent from school.

'I remember talking to him and asking him, 'You're a tall kid, why don't you join the basketball team, become famous, do something worthwhile?' He said, no, he didn't like games. He was tall for his age (6-foot-1). We don't have many 6-footers. I even told him he could be an end on the football team and catch passes and get his name in the paper.'

Ramirez' grades hit rock bottom in high school. His transcript, says Charles Hart, spokesman for El Paso public schools, 'really tells the story,' plummeting the last two years of his education.

source : Richard Ramirez' 'Highway to Hell' - UPI Archives

[sixhours]

Chapter 4 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

Jackson welcomed you with open arms.

They found you on the other side of Elk River, as you expected. It was easy to play the part of the weary traveler because that’s what you were for the six-weeks-on-foot trek from Kansas City to Jackson. When they sat you down in the interrogation room, you didn’t have to lie about the arduous journey. You turned in your weapons willingly and they didn’t ask to search your bag, which was fortunate–most of your cargo was repurposed radio equipment.

You got the impression the people of Jackson weren’t especially concerned about FEDRA’s influence. Being a thousand miles from the nearest QZ probably had that effect. What they didn’t know was that FEDRA had been setting up outposts for years; dotted along the highways, creating rough paths for delivery routes between the QZs, often cloaked as run-down gas stations or abandoned radio towers. The FEDRA network had grown slowly and stealthily thanks to people like you.

You were offered a home in exchange for work, given the pick of several empty houses that had been cleared for resettlement. You chose a light green, two-story cottage, drawn by the old-fashioned TV antenna springing prominently from the rooftop. That would come in handy.

You joined the town’s only other doctor, a 76-year-old man named Eric, at the tiny clinic just off Main Street and saw plain relief in the man’s eyes on your first day of work. It was clear they needed your experience. They didn’t have much compared to the hospitals in the QZ, but the clinic was efficient and clean. 

It was a straightforward assignment and you slipped into a familiar pattern: Ask around, ingratiate yourself to the community, find the people who made the decisions, and then…listen. You’ve learned that it rarely takes coercion to get people to talk here.

~*~

You sigh and drop your pen on the workbench, rolling your head on your shoulders. It’s two in the morning, and you have to be up at 5:30 to take over for the night shift, but you already know you won’t be able to sleep. You’re not used to it yet. Jackson is too quiet, too easy, too safe . Like a mirage in the desert, you keep waiting for it to evaporate into thin air, and yet, a month into this assignment…it’s still here.

You’d told your superiors about the girl on a hunch, and now they want more information. It’s not unusual for you to be asked to dig deeper into an individual, but you’ve never targeted someone so young. You suspect she’s the kid of some high-level Firefly but you don’t ask questions, you never do.

You spin slowly around in the creaking office chair, surveying the dormered attic where you’ve set up the radio and recorder. It’s filled with someone else’s memories, the usual forgotten fodder. Old trunks of graying yellow linens, a broken bicycle, a moldy dress dummy, and dozens of boxes packed with papers and books. Occasionally you paw through the latter looking for reading material–not that you’ve had much time to read.

Tonight your eyes settle on a box near the foot of the workbench, and you begin leafing through it, flicking aside dusty exam papers and report cards, drawings, construction paper turkeys and candy canes.

At the bottom of the box, you unearth a short stack of comic books. You take them out, brushing a thick layer of dust off the top, revealing the first cover: a monstrous creature with white wrinkled skin over a bright red mouth and four sharp teeth. The next book has a glowing UFO soaring across the starry sky and what looks like a fetus in a test tube, and the third shows a ghostly smeared handprint on a window.

You wrinkle your nose but tuck the comics under your arm, thinking they might be the kind of thing a 15-year-old would enjoy.

~*~

In the days after meeting Ellie and her father, you do some research. The pair first arrived in Jackson last winter, then promptly disappeared, the circumstances surrounding their departure mysterious enough to become a source of gossip. They reappeared the following spring, but no one can tell you where they’d been.

You learn that Joel works as a contractor and patrolman. He’s surprisingly well-connected in the Jackson hierarchy as Maria’s brother-in-law. He’s respected, but not exactly well-liked; he’s too reserved for that. You know he has an itchy trigger finger and a short temper, and the prominent opinion among many in Jackson is that his daughter is one of his few redeeming qualities.

And you know you don’t stand a chance of getting close to her without gaining Joel’s trust.

You’re turning this over in your mind during your shower one morning, staring at the water-stained floor in your tiny bathroom when you have a flash of inspiration.

~*~

Joel is visibly surprised to see you at his door that evening. His eyes widen, then narrow in suspicion.

“Just wanted to check in on my patient. How’s she feeling?”

He sucks in a breath, staring down at you with a sneer like you’ve crossed some deeply personal line.

“She’s fine,” he says.

“Joel?”

Ellie pokes her head out the door and sees you standing there with the comic books in your hands. Her eyes go wide. “Is that for me?”

“Hey,” you smile. “And yeah, I found these in my attic and thought–”

The girl shoves her way past Joel before you can finish, grabbing the books from your hands. She flips through the pages, frowning. “Aww man, I was hoping it was…something else. But these look cool.”

“I think this was some sci-fi show back in the 90’s,” you shrug. “I used to watch reruns. Seemed like the kind of thing you’d be into. If you like them, let me know. There may be more up there.”

“They look gross,” she beams at the cover with the white fanged monster, and you decide that’s a mark of praise.

“You done?” Joel snaps, still glaring at you.

“Actually, I have a question for you,” you say, turning back to him. “May I come in?”

Another pause, long enough for Ellie to dig an elbow into the man’s side. “C’mon, man. She’s a doctor . What’s she gonna do, bandage us to death?”

You smirk at this, raising your eyebrows in a silent question.

Joel makes a low sound in his throat. “Fine.”

The house is warm; spartan, but tidy. Not the bachelor-pad-slash-teenage wasteland you’d expected. You step into a small living room with an overstuffed leather couch, a small fireplace, and a coffee table. It smells like pine wood and fresh coffee.

Before you can look around, Joel is standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and scowling.

“So, I heard you’re a contractor,” you begin.

He blinks, expression blank, not offering anything further.

“And I…might have a job for you,” you continue. “My kitchen has some water damage on the back wall and ceiling. The bathroom floor feels soft, and I’m worried it’s not structurally sound.”

“Jobs go through the labor committee,” he says flatly. “Take it up with them.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I know…but it’s such a small thing. I don’t want to waste the committee’s time if it turns out to be nothing. And I don’t even need a builder, necessarily, just someone to take a look at the damage and confirm that my tub’s not going to fall into my kitchen next time I take a bath.”

Another long pause, Ellie looking back and forth between you as the pause unfurls into awkward silence.

“Ugh, he’ll do it,” she says to you.

“Ellie–” he growls a warning.

“God, and you say I have no social skills,” she mutters. “Just fuckin’ do it, Joel. Go help the lady with her kitchen or whatever.”

“Kid–”

“She saved my life, right?”

Joel rolls his eyes. “She didn’t–”

“And didn’t you try to, like, shoot her?”

He glares at you before turning back to her. “I didn’t–”

You watch this exchange with fascination, the easy way the young girl neatly dances around his protests.

She smacks him lightly on the arm. “When do you want him?”

The question is so abrupt, it takes you a hot second to realize she’s asking you to name a date. “Tomorrow? I have a shift until 7 but I can take a break to show you my place.”

Joel seethes at Ellie, but she grins, entirely unintimidated.

“Fine,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “Tomorrow. Five.”

“Great. It’s on Coburn, the third house on the left.”

He nods but doesn’t say anything further.

“Guess I’ll show myself out, then,” you say, turning back to the door. As it shuts behind you, you overhear Joel’s low growl.

“What the hell’d you do that for?”

Ellie’s laugh is the only response.

[stylish-suidae]

So apparently people think that Skyrim was *only* successful by virtue of being an open world in a time when that was rare, and that Starfield is proof that when being an open world is common, there's nothing else to make Bethesda games stand out.

Which like, very convenient for your argument that you're ignoring two entire games in between. And one of those games, Fallout 4, y'know, *still exists* today, and if you look at it's review average it's reviewing 30-40 percentage points better now than it did at launch, and I know *multiple* people who hated it on the basis of it being a Bethesda game who have returned to it in the past year and have grown to love it. Clearly there's more to these games than *just* being open world, otherwise people new to Fallout 4 today would be hating it just as much as Starfield.

And like, the whole scrapping/crafting/building loop in Fallout 4 is extremely elegantly designed, to the point that looking at 76 and Starfield almost makes me think it's a fluke with how much they fucked it up in those games. But that loop isn't in Skyrim, and I'm not here to argue that Fallout 4 has more to it than an open world.

I'm here to argue that Bethesda games in general aren't loved (and Starfield hated) because they're *just* open worlds, I'm here to argue that they're loved because they execute on the open world structure to create a sense of exploration in a way that's only been surpassed by the BotW team.

Think about your average open world game. How do you find stuff to do? Well in some, you have to go Climb A Tower, and then it vomits icons onto your map, and in others you just have icons on your map by default, and then you go to the icon and you find the thing that the icon tells you to find. That is not exploration. If I follow GPS directions to go to Walmart, I did not explore the highway nor did I discover Walmart. I knew where I was going and I followed the way the game told me to go to get there. These games are not open worlds, they are simply 3D checklists with added commute for your inconvenience.

The thing Bethesda games, as well as BotW and TotK, typically do well, is that you're not following icons. Like you do for quests but who cares about quests? The majority of my time in these games, I'm not following a map marker to find the nearest speed challenge or whatever the fuck, I'm looking around, using my eyes, until I see something that makes me think "ooh that looks interesting!", whereupon I make my way towards it to find out what's there. I'm not following where the game tells me to go, I'm following my own initiative.

And speaking of following my own initiative, another thing most open world games fuck up royally is that they literally restrict your movement, either with artificial difficulty barriers or literal invisible walls. I remember picking up Cyberpunk once everyone was saying that "oh no it's actually good now" (but still before 2.0), and I saw a part of the map that interested me. I thought "I wonder what's over there!" And started driving. And then the game said "no you're not allowed to go there yet. You have to do more missions first." Honestly I think the biggest flaw of Fallout 4 (or maybe 2nd biggest after the dialogue system) is that you start in the upper left corner of the map, which means the first several hours of every playthrough look very similar, which is a shame because one of the best consequences of Bethesda's design is that whenever any two people discuss one of their games, there'll be something that each one knows about the game that the other's never even heard of.

And now think about starfield. What does exploration look like in that game? You land on a planet, it's a barren randomly generated bit of nothing. You use your scanner to look around for a map icon, and then just beeline towards it. Just like every non-bethesda open world game, except even worse because the proc gen means you're likely heading towards repeated content you've already seen before (I say as if this is not extremely common in open worlds that are not made by Bethesda or Nintendo)

The people who loved Skyrim and Fallout 4 don't hate Starfield because it turns out a highly acclaimed formula that's even more popular now when it came out is now outdated and compares badly to other open world games. Obviously it's not that, because that's a perspective that's entirely disconnected from reality, that you could only have if you've never gelled with Bethesda games, looked at Starfield's review score, and refused to look at any other information or talk to any of the people you're theorizing about.

No, people who loved Skyrim and Fallout 4 were disappointed by Starfield because it failed to scratch the exploration itch they HAVE had scratched by the previous Bethesda games, and often don't have scratched by other open world games.

Also Starfield's review average is 63% positive on steam. That's bad compared to other games, but like, more people liked it than disliked it. It's not the universal hatred that people seem to get joy out of claiming for some reason.

[conradscrime]

Unsolved Canadian Cases

April 17, 2024

These are cases of individuals who have gone missing in Canada but may not have enough information to be an entire case post of their own.

James David Kunuk

James David Kunuk was born in 1981 and was 34 years old at the time of his disappearance. He was last seen by family on September 21, 2016 in Whitehorse, Yukon, Canada. He was not reported missing until December 2016 by his landlord.

James had been living in downtown Vancouver, BC, but had recently moved to the Yukon and not yet unpacked his belongings. He did not take his wallet with him.

James did not contact his family for his birthday or over Christmas, which was unusual. Most do not think he moved again, however, he does have family in the Northwest Territories.

James uses multiple aliases including Jay Kunuk, Jimmy Miller, Jay David Springgay, Jimmy Kunuk, James Thrasher, Jeremiah McClusky.

He is Indigenous, 5'10 in height, 181 pounds with a medium build. He has short, straight black hair and brown eyes. He has two tattoos; one on his left forearm of a cross with the word "LIFE" and on his right arm of the word "THUG."

He would be 42 years old today.

Edward Joseph Arcand

Edward Joseph Arcand left his home in Coleman, Alberta driving a 1969 Ford Falcon station wagon on June 8, 1975. He has never been seen since.

On June 15, 1975, one week later, his vehicle was found abandoned 80 km north of Coleman on Highway 940. However, the Doe Network states his car was found in July 1975. Edward is Indigenous, 5'8 in height, 139 pounds with a medium build. Joseph has brown eyes and short black hair, last seen wearing a blue, denim jacket, red shirt and blue, denim pants.

Many speculated he could have been Septic Tank Sam, a man whose remains were discovered in a septic tank outside Tofield, Alberta in 1977. However, Edward was missing 6 teeth and Sam had all his teeth.

Septic Tank Sam would later be identified in June 2021 as a 26 year old Indigenous man named Gordon Sanderson, who had been murdered by a gunshot wound in 1976 or 1977.

Joseph had a hernia scar on his lower abdomen, a dark complexion, and no facial hair at the time. He was 27 years old at the time of his disappearance.

Joseph would be turning 76 years old in 2024.

Glenn Field

Glenn Field was 62 years old when he was last seen in April 2019 by a pilot flying over his campsite at Rolfe Lake, Northwest Territories. Glenn had flown to Rolfe Lake on September 13, 2018 to spend the winter living on the land.

He was then going to make his way back to Yellowknife, Northwest Territories in the spring of 2019. Glenn had three dogs with him and enough food to last the winter.

In October 2019, the RCMP Search and Rescue team did an aerial search of Rolfe Lake, but found no sign of Glenn.

Glenn is 5'10 in height, 170 pounds with grey hair and grey eyes. He has glaucoma and is missing one toe on his left foot and two toes on his right foot.

Glenn would be 67-68 years old in 2024.

Jean Gravel & Jean-Guy Champagne

Jean Gravel was 24 years old and went missing with his coworker Jean-Guy Champagne, who was 25, on July 6, 1972 in Trois-Rivières, Québec. Both men were employees of the Rio Bar in downtown.

Both arrived to work early in the evening to work the closing shift. Neither ever returned home and have not been seen since. They were reported missing on July 10, 1972.

Jean Gravel is described as being 5'8 in height, 139 pounds with brown eyes and hair. He was wearing yellow corduroy pants, a beige wool vest, leather black and white running shoes, a gold ring on his left finger, a necklace with assorted colours and a dark blue coat.

Jean-Guy Champagne was described as 5'11 in heigh, 163 pounds with brown eyes and brown hair. He was wearing a green cotton coat, white cotton shirt, green cotton pants, a watch that may have been "Timex" brand, a silver wedding ring on his left finger, black shoes that were size 10-10.5 and has a scar on his chin.

If you have information on any of the above cases you can contact Crime Stoppers: 1-800-222-TIPS(8477) or online at https://www.canadiancrimestoppers.org/tips. You can stay anonymous.

Source: Canada Unsolved (canadaunsolved.com)

[shannyh25]

DIANA: Gilbert gave me this in return for your note. He's coming to watch you anyway. I didn't want Jane or Gabby Brothers to see me.

ANNE: [reading from letter] "...to your own opinion. It would have been easier if you told me in person, if you still consider me your friend. Sincerely, Gilbert Blythe." I won't be accused of being a coward, Diana. He doesn't understand. Tell him I'll speak to him the first minute I can steal away tonight.

DIANA: Calm down, Anne.

ANNE: I'm so ashamed. I can't go up on that stage. I can't. I'll be merciless if I fail.

DIANA: You've never failed at anything, Anne Shirley. Go on.

AMELIA EVANS: [reciting lines 76-88 of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's The Wreck of the Hesperus]

Ho! ho! the breakers roared

At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach,

A fisherman stood aghast,

To see the form of a maiden fair,

Lashed close to a drifting mast.

The salt sea was frozen on her breast,

The salt tears in her eyes;

And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed

On the billows fall and rise.

Such was the wreck of the Hesperus,

In the midnight and the snow!

[God] save us all from a death like this,

On the reef of Norman's Woe!

LADY IN YELLOW: Mrs. Evans has just completed a European tour.

LADY IN BLUE: Oh, she's a prodigious talent. I was moved beyond words.

MRS. SPENCER: On behalf of the Charlottetown hospital, I would like to offer our indebtedness to Mrs. Amelia Evans for gracing us with such a stirring performance in support of today's benefit. Thank you. And now, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to present one of Avonlea's most celebrated students, who achieved the highest standing in the recent entrance examinations to Queens Academy: Miss Anne Shirley.

LADY IN BLUE: It will be amusing to see what arises from the local amateur actors.

ANNE: [reciting lines 1-6, 25-30 and 85-90 from Alfred Noyes' The Highwayman]

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.

The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.

The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,

And the highwayman came riding--

Riding--riding--

The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize tonight,

But I shall [return] with the yellow gold before the morning light;

Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,

Then look for me by moonlight,

Watch for me by moonlight,

I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

Back, he spurred like a madman, shouting a curse to the sky,

With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high.

Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat;

When they shot him down on the highway.

Down like a dog on the highway,

And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

AUDIENCE: Encore! Encore!

LADY IN YELLOW: Dear, you were splendid. Go back. They're encoring you.

ANNE: I can't go back.

LADY IN YELLOW: Yes, you can.

I got the movie quote from greengables-1.tripod.com

Follow me for more inspiration!💜💕

[americanroads]

1) The 1957 Crossroads Diner went up for auction on eBay in 2019 and sold after 76 bids for $70,400. It was located on US Highway 46, just outside of Belvidere in Warren County.

2) From the Sopranos, the famous Pizzaland — shown in Tony’s drive in the opening scene, right from the beginning of the series

3) House with “The Last Supper” lead glass window and a permanently-parked Cutlass LS.  Prints available: leah-frances.com/prints © Leah Frances New book coming Fall 2022. 

[mandowifey]

Character Masterlist.

Note: This list will be updated regularly when I get a new blorbo.

● ● ●

Ethan Hawke:

James Sandin (The Purge)

Russel Millings (Adopt a Highway)

Arthur Harrow (Moon Knight)

Edward Dalton (Daybreakers)

Ellison Oswalt (Sinister)

Albert Shaw/The Grabber (The Black Phone)

Ray Harris (Raymond and Ray)

Ernst Toller (First Reformed)

Lars Nystrom (Stockholm)

● ● ●

The Boys Universe:

Homelander

William/Billy Butcher

Ben/Soldier Boy

● ● ●

Stephen Lang:

Norman Nordstrom/Blindman (Don't Breathe)

Commander Nathaniel Taylor (Tera Nova)

Colonel Miles Quaritch- Human & Na'vi (Avatar)

John Korver (Gridlocked)

● ● ●

Hamish Linklater:

Father Paul Hill/John Pruitt (Midnight Mass)

John Tyler (Tell Me Your Secrets)

● ● ●

Oscar Isaac:

Santiago "Pope" Garcia (Triple Frontier)

Marc/Steven/Jake (Moon Knight)

Kane Double (Annihilation 2018)

● ● ●

Pedro Pascal:

Din Djarin/Mando (The Mandalorian)

Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

Frankie 'Catfish' Morales (Triple Frontier)

Deiter Bravo (The Bubble)

Javi G (Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

Max Phillips (Blood Sucking Bastards)

Maxwell Lord (Wonder Woman 88)

● ● ●

John Krasinski:

Lee Abbott (A Quiet Place)

● ● ●

Patrick Wilson:

Ed Warren (The Conjuring)

Orm Marius (Aquaman)

Josh Lambert (Insidious)

Daniel Dreiberg/Nite Owl (Watchmen)

● ● ●

Jensen Ackles:

Tom Hanniger (My Bloody Valentine)

Soldier Boy (The Boys)

● ● ●

Tony Dalton:

Lalo Salamanca (Better Call Saul)

Jack Duquesne (Hawkeye)

● ● ●

Michael Fassbender:

Erik Lehnsherr (X-Men)

David / Walter (Alien Covenant/Prometheus)

● ● ●

Karl Urban:

Commander Vaako (Riddick)

Billy Butcher (The Boys)

● ● ●

Jon Bernthal:

Frank Castle (The Punisher)

Shane Walsh (The Walking Dead)

● ● ●

Jason Bateman:

Marty Byrd (Ozark)

Michael Bluth (Arrested Development)

● ● ●

Patrick Fabian

Howard Hamlin (Better Call Saul)

Cotton Marcus (The Last Exorcism)

● ● ●

Spider-Verse

Peter B Parker

Miguel O'Hara

Venom

● ● ●

Jake Gyllenhaal

Detective Loki (Prisoners)

Quentin Beck/Mysterio (Spiderman: FFH)

Danny Sharp (Ambulance)

Other Chars (Unsorted)

● ● ●

Overwatch

Cassidy

Soldier 76/Jack

Reaper/Gabriel

Hanzo Shimada

Genji Shimada

● ● ●

Critical Role (S1)

Grog

Vax

● ● ●

Baldur's Gate 3

Astarion

Enver Gortash

Gale Dekarios

Halsin

Zevlor

Cazador Szarr

● ● ●

Negan Smith (Walking Dead)

Rick Grimes (Walking Dead)

Daryl Dixon (Walking Dead)

Jamie Lannister (Game of Thrones)

Captain Rex (Star Wars)

Boba Fett (Star Wars)

Kylo Ren (Star Wars)

Saul Goodman/Jimmy McGill (BCS/BB)

Barry Berkman (Barry HBO)

[maklodes]

Americans traditionally measure the fuel economy of their cars in miles per gallon. Europeans tend to use liters/100 km. Americans not only use their customary unit rather than metric, but also have a measurement that is reciprocal to the European one. (To convert one to the other, divide 235.215 by the number you already have – although official stats may still not be comparable, because the U.S. and Europe use different test-routines to determine city/highway mileage. FWIW, I’ve heard that both U.S. and European tests are too optimistic about fuel economy compared to the real world, but European tests are a little more optimistic and further from reality.)

I think metric is better in general (but Europeans really should have done liters/1000 km! Then their measurements would have two digits of precision for typical modern sedans, crossovers, and such without going past a decimal point, plus 10^6 m is a better metric distance standard than 10^5 m.), but fuel per distance and distance per fuel both have arguments in their favor: do you want to know how far you can go on a tank of gas (American), or how much gas you’ll need to go a given distance (European)? Is it better to have bigger numbers be better, so good fuel economy is viscerally impressive in the same way as high horsepower (American), or is it better to have a number directly proportional to fuel consumption, so it’s obvious that going from 12 L/100km to 6 L/100km is twice as important as going from 6L/100km to 3L/100 km, whereas in the American system it’s less readily apparent that going from 19 MPG to 38 MPG saves twice as much fuel as going from 38 to 76 MPG? (assuming constant distances) I think the European system of volume over distance is probably somewhat more sensible on the whole, but not as clearcut as the metric vs customary issue.

What strikes me as interesting, though, is to consider the European system: liters per 100 km. That’s volume – x^3 – over distance – x. Phrased like that, you can see the immediate temptation: what if we reduce x^3/x to x^2? Now our units of fuel economy are in area. If we have a vehicle that uses 6 L/100 Km, we can phrase that as 6 * 10^-3 m^3 / 10^5 m, which is 6 * 10^-8 m^2, about 6% of a square millimeter.

Does that actually mean anything, though, or is it just an artifact of misused dimensional analysis, like claiming that torque can be measured in joules because newtons * meters = joules, when really torque just isn’t energy? I think the area measurement of fuel economy actually does have a physical interpretation: if you were driving, and a tiny filament of liquid gasoline with this cross-sectional area traced your route, then that filament of gasoline would be approximately enough fuel for your trip.

I can’t think of a physically intuitive explanation of what the dimensionally-reduced American measure of efficiency (reciprocal area) is, though.

[rabbitcruiser]

Bixby Bridge, CA (No. 3)

Over 300,000 board feet (700 m3) of Douglas fir timber, used to build a 250-foot (76 m) high falsework to support the arch during construction, was transported from the railroad terminal in Monterey over the narrow, one-way road to the bridge site. The falsework, built by crews led by E. C. Panton, the general superintendent, and I. O. Jahlstrom, resident engineer of Ward Engineering Co., was difficult to raise, because it was constantly exposed to high winds. Some of the falsework timbers were 10 by 10 inches (250 mm × 250 mm).[18] It took two months to construct the falsework alone. When high waves threatened the falsework foundation, construction was halted for a short time until winter storms abated.

The crews excavated 4,700 cubic yards (3,600 m3) of earth and rock. Eight hundred and twenty-five trucks brought in 600,000 pounds of reinforcing steel. Sand and gravel were supplied from a plant in Big Sur.

Construction required 45,000 sacks or 6,600 cubic yards (5,000 m3) of cement which was transported from Davenport, near Santa Cruz, and from San Andreas. Crews began placing concrete on November 27. The concrete was transported across the canyon on platforms using slings suspended from a cable 300 feet (91 m) above the creek.

The bridge was completed on October 15, 1932, although the highway was not finished for another five years. At its completion, the bridge cost $199,861 and, at 360 feet (110 m), was the longest concrete arch span on the California State Highway System. The bridge was necessary to complete the two-lane road which opened in 1937 after 18 years of construction. The completion of construction was celebrated with a ribbon-cutting ceremony led by Dr. John L.D. Roberts, who had conceived of the need for the road.

Source: Wikipedia

[aegis-17]

Developed for some ongoing game plots i run with friends and others on Fallout 76.

The Wreckers; a motorized Raider gang out of Wheeling operating out of the toxic valley and, as of recently, the northern portions of the savage divide.

They often clash with the camps of the mothman cultists.

Haulers are usually the lowest of the Wrecker ranks, tasked as scouts looking for useful parts and salvage or as basic grunts and firepower for Raids. Most non veteran Wreckers have spent at least some amount of time as a Hauler before making their way up the ranks.

Wreckers make up the bulk of the Gang.

Almost always better armored and packing more firepower then Haulers, Wreckers tend to be the real muscle of a raid group and usually have some automotive or mechanical skill to them.

Wreckers tend to be found manning guardposts or recovering salvage.

Raidbosses are usually Veteran Wreckers from the original wheeling crew up north.

Brutal leaders with at least some pre-war trooper experience under their belts, they Lead most wrecker raid groups and attacks on settlements and cultist camps on the edge of the gangs terf.

Welders are, like raidbosses almost always veteran wreckers from the original wheeling crew.

Ex state trooper fleet mechanics, they're among the best mechanics and welding experts in the gangs ranks. Servicing their vehicles or assembling their camps.

They tend to wield heavily modified flamers

Boss Higgs is the Leader of wrecker group currently claiming terf to the north of Appalachia. An Ex Major of the state troopers, he is a veteran wrecker and led the gang when they first took over Wheeling and the highways around the city.

He currently has his sights set on the northern cultists.