#The road has a known direction and an unknown end.

[how2do]

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - The Best of 2023

We made it to the end of the year!! I read…a lot. A lot. According to my records, I read: 

1300 fic 

15million words 

98% of that was SteveTony and narrowing that down to my favorite 10 was…a mission. Here you go--And I’d LOVE to hear what your favorite reads of the year was. 

~

Trust Fall by Sineala

Tony needs someone who cares about him, bandages, a jacket, ibuprofen, dinner, a lasting romantic relationship, a nice time in bed, and assistance committing federal crimes. He gets them. In that order.

Gather Ye Rosebuds by lazywriter7

It isn’t like that, for many people. For them, love is the point: the axis around which everything else revolves, the destination at the end of a long, tumultuous journey. Realisation, confession, resolution. Happy ending. That’s how it goes. And love was a point in Tony Stark’s journey, except it came towards the beginning, rather than the end. The issue, instead of the solution.

He hasn’t been alone on the trip, of course. Steve’s been there: sometimes three steps behind, sometimes waiting up ahead by the turn of the road. They’ve sprinted and stumbled, sometimes stood still and refused to move on ahead, sometimes thought of turning away altogether.

Steve and Tony’s story began after they fell in love, and this is about how they fell in everything else.

a rose by any other name by meidui

“Just Steve,” he says quickly, softly, and his voice is music to Tony’s ears. “Please call me Steve.”

Tony can’t help but stare as it occurs to him that he should have prepared a proper greeting. What on earth is someone so young and pretty doing in an engagement like this?

-

There are a lot of things about Steve that make this arrangement easier than Tony thought it would be, but then there are a lot of things about him that complicate it, too.

Second Chance Lives by raeldaza 

Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

My Known Unknown by shetlandowl

That True Lies AU nobody asked for, set in a world where Stane Inc is the world's foremost weapons manufacturer, and Tony's employer.

I could lie tangent to your curves by RurouniHime

Steve is bodyguard to a prominent young socialite with too much genius on his hands... and who has taken an unfortunate shine to him.

Not a Breakup by Annie D (scaramouche)

Tony knew it was a bad idea to start sleeping with Steve. It could mess up team dynamics, make things even more awkward between them in the future, or just plain get in the way of their trying to save the world. Tony foresaw all of the above but not the advent of feelings, and at the most inopportune moment.

now I worship a celestial sun by haemodye

The thing that gets Tony the most is how long it takes him to notice.

Not Steve, or even the other Avengers, but Tony himself. It takes Tony almost two whole weeks to figure out that he’s unable to disobey a direct order from Steve, which just- what the hell is that? What happened to the days when he flew off the handle, unable to play well with others, a notorious wild card?

“God, don’t tell me I’m getting old and predictable,” he says, rubbing a hand over his forehead. And then, “Fuck.”

A mostly-comedic farce involving: 1 obedience spell, 2 pining Avengers, 1 long-suffering Sorcerer Supreme, and 1 single, extravagant Saint Patrick's Day float.

Can't Write One Song (That's Not About You) by FestiveFerret 

Ten years ago, Tony fell in love with his roommate: funny, handsome, kind, smart Steve Rogers, who also happened to be the lead singer and guitarist of a band, The Howlies.

Then The Howlies made it big, Steve moved away, and Tony vowed to avoid any mention of the band, their songs, and the man he missed his chance with.

But chance has a way of giving you exactly what you need, even if you don't know it yet...

[Podfic of] When The Lights Go On Again by Dr_Fumbles_McStupid, kalakirya, KD reads (KDHeart), lattice_frames, lavenderfrost, miss_marina95, Opalsong, paraka, Superstitiousme, vassalady

Aliens have invaded earth, and the Avengers are scattered. While Steve leads the resistance, Tony once again finds himself playing captive scientist. In the midst of a violent alien regime, separated by seemingly insurmountable boundaries, Steve and Tony have nothing to keep themselves going but each other.

[cutekittenlady]

Trains, Planes, and Autobots

Summary Fic Part 7

[Previous] [Next]

Everyone is gathered outside the Maltos residence just as the sun is starting to go down.

Bumblebee complains about the late start, but Alex calms him as he loads the last of the groups equipment into Bee's trunk. He points out that while while Cybertronias may not need to sleep in the same way humans do, Breakdown will inevitably have to stop to re-energize and hunt for Energon eventually.

Thrash points out that on the other hand Alex has to eat and sleep and so they'll be stopping just as much.

However Hashtag cuts in on both of them and tells them that Breakdown won't have the benefit of Hashtags wi-fi abilities. Telling the group that she already knows which highway exit Breakdown, Swindle, and Hardtop have taken due to "Cons not believing in red lights". (Red light cameras took pictures of them). She directs Bee and the others what direction to start in, but warns she'll only be able to track them via that method.

Schloder gives Alex an energon reader and recommends he try and use it to track the three.

Thrash questions how hard its actually going to be to track down a racecar, an armored buggy, and a jeep all driving together.

Dot says it may be harder than he thinks and takes the opportunity to remind Thrash to use the holographic tech he'd been given.

Thrash goes into his alt mode and tries the projection out; producing the illusion of his motorcycle having a human rider. Nightshade acknowledges that it may be difficult for them to remain out of sight, but Optimus tells them to just fly high enough to be out of sight during the day. Their owl like alt modes ability to fly silently and even see at night will be vital in helping Bumblebee stay on top of things as they try and track Breakdown.

Nightshade promises to do their best.

With that the group says their goodbyes, and Bumblebee, Alex, Thrash, and Nightshade all hit the road.

Ratchet quietly asks Optimus if he thinks the Terrans can handle the recon mission to which Optimus proudly tells him that they've handled big things already and have come out on top. Besides the remaining autobots on Earth remain scattered across the globe and mobilizing them together would take time they dont have. He also reveals that he had included the Terrans on their channels. So if the group ends up in trouble they know they can contact them for aid.

Ratchet isn't entirely convinced but opts to accept Optimus' judgement.

Dorothy directs everyone back into the dugout for one final review of things before they (she and the kids) turn in to rest for the night before beginning fresh in the morning.

In the dugout, Schloder stands in front of a white board with various pictures placed on it with magnets. Some of them clearly hand drawn.

He marches back and forth in front of the board with Dottie standing to one side and says that they must review the "subjects of interest thus far."

He starts with Subject #1; Breakdown. A decepticon scout. Known to be one of the components of the combiner Menasor, being the combiners right leg. After the war he became a fugitive along with the rest of Decepticons and, evidently, took to participating in races all over the globe under false identities. Most recently he has accessed the database they brought back from the old GHOST headquarters for "unknown purposes". Was previously thought to suffer from a "paranoid disposition" but seems to have dropped it in recent years.

Twitch irritably says they already know about Breakdown.

Schloder just says they have to start somewhere. And besides it'd be good to keep him in mind as any information they get about him could help with the rest. Adding that Breakdown, as far as he knows, had an affinity for taking on race cars as alt modes.

Megatron elaborates that Breakdown, at one time, was able to produce a vibration that shut down non-sentient machines. Which is where he earned his name. However, he lost the ability after suffering grievous bodily harm during the war.

He pauses and tells them that in spite of his association with the stunticons he tended to be fairly reliable and competent, and Megatron had trusted him with vital positions more than once.

Optimus points out that they're not talking about Breakdowns qualifications at the moment which Megatron just frowns at.

Schloder moves on to Subject #2; Dragstrip. A yellow bot known to take on a dragster, rather than a regular car, as her alt mode. She is dangerously competitive and will do anything, absolutely anything, to squeeze out whatever she perceives as a victory for herself. Her constant attempts to slip into races and cause mayhem resulted in routine energon checks being enforced in drag races all over America. She makes up Menasors right arm.

Megatron dourly says Dragstrip once tried to challenge the Seekers to a race and tried to tear off one of NovaStorms wings to make it "fair".

Subject #3; Dead End. Yet another vehicular bot. He formed Menasors left arm. Is thought to largely be the Stunticons strategic center.

Megatron says he always had trouble finding bots willing to go on patrol with Dead End. His dour nihilism tended to get on the other decepticons nerves. It got so bad that only the other stunticons were willing to go on missions with him.

Noting Dead Ends red alt mode, Optimus asks Jawbreaker if Dead End is the bot he saw Breakdown looking up. It's possibly he may have simply looked up Dead End twice.

Jawbreaker looks at Dead Ends picture and says that hes not. It was someone else.

Subject #4; Wildrider. DO NOT APPROACH ALONE. He is dangerous and known to deliberately cause destruction wherever he goes. Some of the biggest road accidents recorded in the past forty years had Wildrider identified as the central cause. He was Menasors left leg.

Megatron admits he doesnt have much to add. Mostly they just pointed Wildrider in whatever direction the enemy was and hoped for the best.

Subject $5; MotorMaster. The leader of the stunticons. He makes up the central component of Menasor. Was known to use his alt mode, a large truck, to barrel through obstacles to make a path for the other stunticons to move in. Notably he had a tendency to gun for Optimus.

Optimus quietly mutters that he still doesnt understand what MotorMasters problem with him was.

Megatron says that he thinks it was a "truck thing" and asks Optimus not to take it too personally. Though he grows serious when he admits that MotorMasters bullheaded violence caused Megatron to be forced to put him in stasis before he left the decepticons.

Twitch asks why he had to do that.

Megatron explained that when Motormaster learned the Stunticons were being disbanded he became so violent that Megatron had to subdue him. He very nearly killed their CMO in the rampage.

He still has no idea if MotorMaster is still in stasis or not. He hadn't seen him on the battlefield after he'd defected leading him to assume Shockwave and the others had left him there.

Schloder clears his throat and admits he actually kinda sorta might have some news about that?

With everyone looking at him Schloder admits that after Mandroids defeat he found some, ah, abandoned messages from another GHOST facility elsewhere in the country. They had, evidently, found Motormasters stasis pod and had awakened him. They'd managed to keep him imprisoned, but a month or two before the mandroid incident he'd someone managed to escape.

Dorothy quickly asks where all the others are.

Schloder tells her that Wildrider and Dragstrip had been imprisoned too. Keyword had.

"You're telling me that right now there's a group of Decepticon road hogs driving around free who can come together to turn into a giant lunatic?!" Dorothy asks.

Schloder stops. Thinks. And confirms that, yes, that is the case.

Ratchet says that this is dire. If Breakdown was working at Motormasters direction, he may have just gotten a lead on the locations of all the other stunticons. If the group comes back together, Menasor will likely make a return.

Jawbreaker nervously says that that cant be all bad, right? After all the autobots presumably defeated him during the war, right? right?!

Optimus confirms that the autbots did indeed have their own combiner teams that helped to combat forces like Menasor.

Jawbreaker sighs in relief.

BUT, optimus finishes, not only are some of the autobots in question scattered across the globe, but many of the team members were left behind on cybertron when the space bridge was destroyed.

Essentially, if their theory about the stunticons coming back together to form Menasor is correct, there is no one readily available to beat him.

Twitch asks if Menasor is as terrible as all that, but is met with silence. She says that if thats the case then they HAVE to stop it.

Dorothy calms Twitch telling her they don't know for certain that thats what Breakdowns aim was.

Shloder adds that regardless, he'll try to scramble what few former GHOST personnel remain to try and dig through information to try and get the last known locations of all the stunticons, or at bare minimum, a hint as to where they each might be located.

Besides that they still have to discuss where Subject #6; "The red guy" fits into all this. As the last search Breakdown did, and the only one he attempted to do in secret, "the red guy" might just be key to figuring out what they're planning. They don't know what connection "the red guy" might have to Breakdown, what alt mode they might have, or even whether they're an autobot or decepticon. However they lucked out as Jawbreaker got a look at the file and can, therefore, potentially identify the person he saw.

Hashtag hypes Jawbreaker up and talks about how they'll have to organize a lineup of "perps" for him to identify. Jawbreaker is not enthusiastic only managing a small "yay".

Optimus says this might be a much more dire situation than they thought. He asks Schloder to provide information on the stunticons last known locations so that he, Megatron, Dorothy, and Twitch can find them and find out what they know and neutralize them if they have to. Meanwhile Ratchet will remain behind to help hashtag, Mo, and Robbie help Jawbreaker try and identify which bot Breakdown looked up using the collected database they got from the GHOST base.

He also asks that Agent Schloder to stay on hand to help with identification.

With that they've done all they can and have to will wait until dawn to get started.

Out on the road, Bumblebees group travels mostly in silence. The silence is broken by Alex who asks if anyone would be interested in listening to his travel playlist.

[kitsunesfandomtime]

AFO in Silent Hill

Inspired by, @peanut0w0 AU

Alternate Universe: Silent Hill is real and AFO gets sucked into it.

Characters: All for One, Mentioned Yoichi

Summary: After All for One gets a letter from his brother who has been dead for several years he seeks him out. In that strange town they had only been too once before Yoichi finally allowed his illness to take him. Though with a man as many sins as his, he's about to enter his own personal hell.

__

“I’m here for you Hisashi. I’m real…” Hisashi wonders if this truly was as real as he claims in this quiet hell of a town.

-------

All For One, the most vicious man in the world. A symbol of evil who inflicted fear into the hearts of many. A legend, the boogieman of the very world itself. He prided himself in no one ever knowing his identity or his past.

Which is what making this situation even more baffling to him. Following the trail to a very specific town, Silent Hill, known for being quint but nothing else. Yet this is where the letter has led him back to the United States. Even if it seemed seemed the rest of the journey was on foot.

“What kind of game are you playing Yoichi,” he mutters more to himself in the car. Opening the glove compartment to pull out the letter. The one that had led him to this peculiar town in search for the brother that has been gone for so long. Which is why he was alone, no one can see this but him as his eyes scans the letter.

Long ago you took me to this town that seemed to linger in my dreams, Silent Hill. You said it wasn’t anything special just a passing by town in the middle of your grandeur trip. To me though there was something more and I asked if we would ever return. You said you would when you could.

You never did. But I’m there now in that town waiting for you to come to complete that little promise. Waiting for you at a ‘special place’, big brother, don’t forget.

It felt like some twisted joke. That trip had been so long ago, just something between them in his attempt to take their mind off things. He had half a mind to burn the letter as must be some prank. To abandon it and continue with his life.

As Yoichi had long since died to his very illness so many years ago.

“So why am I here looking for him?” Hisashi speaks only bitterly as he wasn’t All for One at this moment. This was Hisashi, the man behind the monster still seeking something despite the insanity.

“And what special place. Since when was he so cryptic? There were tons of places he seemed to enjoy in that small town from the park to the streets, and the hotel excited at how nice everything was,” he speaks like this is some annoyance. Though it doesn’t stop him despite the fact he should know better he still leaves his car parked. Looking off into the forest in the direction of that town.

It was like a siren song calling to him that he can’t ignore. Beckoning him toward the unknown that had once only been a blip in their life. Moving to the stone wall rails on the side of the road he stares toward that town.

“Maybe he was always alive and only chose now to contact me…” his voice trails as he grabs a map feeling something heavy on his mind that he tries to ignore. The hair on the back of his neck seemed to stand on end as the air itself seems to ice over.

As he walks toward that town. Able to feel something inside him seeming to urge him on despite himself. A longing he ignored for sanity sake.

“I hope he’s still waiting for me.”

[see-arcane]

Ok here goes

The Red Book 📕

Unknown and Terrible 🌑⚰️

Long Night Drive 🚙 (if I ever travel again to the USA I am doing so again why are night roadtrips so eerie there what happened)

The Harker Records 🖤 🖋️

Death's Dogs 🐕☠️

The M.A.D Gods 😤

Bloody Anniversary 💒

Lady Luna Blue 🔵

The Red Book 📕: A collection of some more explicitly saucy supernatural works. I tend to kind of tiptoe around any direct sexual/erotic aspects in things I write, so this would be more like a writing exercise than anything else, just to see how I can rework (disdainful literati voice) ~smut~ into something meatier ha ha than just a one-and-done indulgence shot. I don't see this one being put together anytime soon, as, again, I'm still prone to side-stepping outright raunchiness versus innuendo. But we'll see what happens.

Unknown and Terrible 🌑⚰️: Short version? Jonathan Harker winds up as the new Dracula following a very bloody climax in Transylvania. He uses Scholomance magic to pull Francis' reincarnation bullshit out through his nose, brings Mina back as a new soul, and tries to get her back. It is very much about me being a petty prick and proving Jonathan and Mina = The Better Romance and the Better Tragic Vampire Lovers. Choke on it, Francis.

Long Night Drive 🚙: This one fittingly only seems to haunt me when I'm driving after dark on empty roads. The premise being a sort of liminal What If? What if someone started a long drive at night and neither the road or the night ever ended? What if the last wrong turn turned them off of Earth's road map and onto Someplace Else's? Ideally this would only hit the driver on a night of Importance. One of those 'things are crossing over' nights--and they crossed over in the wrong direction. Uh oh.

The Harker Records 🖤 🖋️: Oh, but this one gives me brain itches. It's hazy at the edges, but it'd be a sort of fusion between anthology and purposeful/linked Big Narrative. Basically, the Harkers and their friends start becoming unofficial monster hunters/recorders/aides. I always love when paranormal stories have it work out so that if you're stamped once by the uncanny, the uncanny continues to gravitate toward you. I'd like to see them interact with myriad eerie happenings across public domain horrors together. Peak couple's activity <3

Death's Dogs 🐕☠️: An examination of how Death has an abundance of dogs with various tasks bred into them. And how Dracula maybe crossed the paths of more than one spectral hound during his English holiday.

The M.A.D Gods 😤: Augh, it's gathered so much dust, BUT I STILL LOVE IT AND MY WEIRD NUCLEAR NEON YELLOW PANTHEON SO MUCH. The gist is that 1) The Universe was made by one entity basically ejecting the bulk of Its body mass away so Matter could happen and flourish 2) That shit's tiring 3) The Atomic God (named because It is responsible for every atom in the universe) closes Earth around it like shell/blanket for an eons-long nap 4) It creates two guard-gods, Maker and Breaker, to keep any cosmic horror jerks out of the neighborhood--It ditched them to make the known universe so It could have some peace, finally. 5) Hijinks ensue as Maker and Breaker dutifully chokeslam any Lovecraftian interlopers out of the galaxy and spend their free time watching humanity fuck shit up

Bloody Anniversary 💒: An unexpected meetup of various couples in various states of actually being in love, each celebrating their anniversary. One of these couples is older than they seem. And maybe not celebrating the anniversary anyone would expect.

Lady Luna Blue 🔵: Started out as alternative what-if for who the Pretty Girl in Piccadilly might be. She could still go that route, but I think my imagination has long since run off with her into more original territory. Lady Luna Blue is her professional name; at least as Victorian era mediums and mystics go. In-between card readings and seances, she catches the attention of something with much more supernatural weight than she's prepared for. And it happily takes advantage when she invites any 'wandering spirits' in.

[ruiniel]

Another Way - VI

Summary: What if someone in the 21st century stumbled upon this stranger during a turbulent storm, narrowly avoiding running them over, and what's more they can't understand a word coming out of their mouth.

Fandom: Castlevania animated series

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Rating: Mature / 18+ only

Tags & Warnings: explicit language, depressive character, character-meets-world, modern AU, Fantasy, References to personal Loss, References to Grief, More tags coming

VI.

Something feels different now, upon returning, despite having passed this way recently, and not only because you have the most erratic person you’ve ever met in the passenger seat looking like something cursed him with being here.

For certain, he looks better after that nauseous spell, but one aspect hasn’t changed — he’s still as silent as a grave, glancing ahead with his arms crossed at his chest, heaving a sigh from time to time.

“We’re almost there,” you say once you hit a bend in the road and the city lights soon hail ahead, scattered in the distance. They glimmer and shiver, pinpricks of light against the darkening canvas of the sky; evening has arrived, and the days are getting shorter.

Adrian’s silence comes as no shock now and you don’t press him, even give up speaking just to hear yourself talk, settling into your own quietude with accustomed ease. But, once you reach the city, something happens: his passive, apathetic demeanor changes. 

Adrian stares at everything: the buildings, the traffic lights, the other cars with their flashing low-beam headlights like tired demon-eyes, a look of mingled awe and interest on his face as he turns his head this way and that.

“Easy, don’t get whiplash,” you comment under your breath, feeling like a heel immediately. It’s not his fault it was you who stumbled upon him, is it?

Still, still. You have absolutely no idea what his deal is: who he is, where he’s from, what his mettle is (if he even has one). And now that you’re actually here, the reality of it strikes in full force: you have absolutely no idea what to do about him. It’s not as though you collect confused strangers off the sides of roads regularly. You mull things over in your head as you take a right, then a left. Technically, he merely hitched a ride with you, right? There’s no obligation on your part to do more, no moral constraint you should hold yourself to. You owe him nothing.

With that thought you glance at Adrian, finding him sitting stiff as a board in the seat, a hand rubbing at his temple, the other grasping his knee with whitened knuckles, like it’s done him wrong. 

You sigh. No, you don’t owe him anything. But somehow, deep within yourself, it feels wrong to just dump him on an unknown street in an unknown city, when he doesn’t even speak the language. “If I end up dead in a barrel with acid, at least I hope someone finds me one day,” you mutter to yourself, and with that, take another left, following the known direction to your apartment. 

You stop the engine after finding a parking spot, then place both hands on your knees. 

“Listen,” you say, and look at him.

Adrian stares back, and you can’t help but notice the uncanny glow to those amber eyes; it’s hard to remember if you’d ever seen their like before. “I don’t really know what to do about… this, yet. And I won’t let you sleep out on the streets, not tonight. You look worn and unwell, and I hope I won’t regret this. For tonight, you can sleep at my place, all right?” and you don’t wait for a reply as surely there’s none coming that you understand, anyway. You get out of the car and he does the same — after fumbling with the car door again as you retrieve your belongings from the trunk.

“Come on, this way,” you say and walk ahead, gesturing towards your building with one hand, the bag with your own belongings slung over your other shoulder. “It’s not much, not very spacious either, but it’s all I could afford. You know how it is —... or maybe you don’t.”

Adrian follows, picking up the rucksack you gave him, not without looking around with the same lingering interest as back in the car. Seeing him like this, with his features changed in honest wonder, alleviates some of your unease.

You pass through the apartment building entrance, greeting a neighbor or two as they emerge from the building — old Mrs Mila, heading out to walk her dog that had grown too large to be as playful, jumpy and skittering as it is; the neighbor renting the place across from yours, who always practices his electric guitar late at night. They all give you first friendly, then surprised looks when they see the tall, long-haired attachment you’ve brought with. Spare me, you grumble in thought, walking faster towards the elevator, Adrian following closely behind.

Once inside, the doors close and you press the button to your floor; at which point he tenses, startling and hitting his back against the cab, and you must be getting used to this because it fazes you little. Adrian, too, relaxes once he sees your lack of reaction, and soon enough you reach your floor.

“We’re here.” You unlock your door and urge him to follow inside the small one-bedroom apartment you’re renting.

You set your bags down and turn towards him. “This is the living space where I also cook.” You point at the kitchen setup to the left side, then at the long sofa set close to a window on the other side, a low rectangular table to its right. There’s also an office desk in another corner, where you have your laptop and an old monitor. “The bathroom is over here,” you show him, heading over and opening the door, “And there’s another small room, where I’d host guests or when my parents used to visit…” you trail away, a thickness clogging your throat. What’s the point? He doesn’t get any of it — but you’ll soon try to remedy that. “I usually sleep on the sofa, but now I’ll take the room so you can sleep here,” you near and place a hand on the faded green upholstery. “Get it?” You bring your palms together against your cheek, and Adrian nods slowly, following you with his gaze as you go towards the kitchen corner. 

“Let’s see… it’s dinnertime, but I have nothing in the fridge since I was planning on being away for longer. We can have some of the food I brought back,” you ramble as you rummage through the cupboard, then your bag. If you were doing better, you might order some takeout, but times have been tough in the finances department and you’d rather keep it for other occasions. “Thirsty?” you ask, not looking at him, already filling a glass of water and handing it out — which Adrian takes, gratefully, nodding at you again. “Right,” you smile, “Soon we’ll hopefully be able to actually communicate. I have an older phone I can charge up to use.” You go to your desk and rummage through a drawer for said device.

You also grab a ballpen and a piece of paper, presenting them to Adrian. “Write something down again, please,” you urge, mimicking the act of writing in the air with the ballpen.

He stares at you for a moment, then at your hand holding the writing instrument.

“Here,” you’re fast in offering it out to him, smiling because it costs you nothing at the moment, watching as gratitude flicks across his face.

Adrian takes the ballpen between his fingers, the lines of his composure changing to neutrality as he writes something in that script while you plug in the phone to charge. When it makes a sound as it reboots, you hear a gasp, and look up to see him gazing at the object in your hand, having paused his writing.

You raise an eyebrow but look back at the phone, setting to download the app you need even as Adrian finishes a last swirl of hand and slowly pushes the slip of paper towards you.

“All right, finally,” you tap on the camera and take a picture of the writing, then set it to detect the language.

“... this says… Ukrainian?” you frown. “You’re speaking Ukrainian? Wait, no — now it says Tatar? These things are wonky sometimes,” you sigh, staring at the writing again and typing Where are you from? into the translator before handing over the phone to him to read.

Adrian doesn’t take it, but stares at the screen, mesmerized and baffled. Slowly, his long, pale hand reaches and takes the device from you — his fingers, you discover, are freezing cold. He takes stock of the translated text, but shakes his head after a second. 

“No? Not getting it?...” you ponder, rubbing at the back of your head and taking the device back, setting the translation to the other languages yielded. 

Nothing, nothing, nothing. He carefully sets the phone down, like it’s something that might explode at any moment.

You turn to retrieve two plates from the cupboard, deflated. “Actually,” you whirl around, glad for the sudden idea, “I know! I’ll take this to Mrs Mila from downstairs tomorrow. She might help figure this out, and…”

Your words fade as you watch him, all but hyperventilating, staring at your artistic calendar hanging on the wall, a trembling hand brushing over the year and mumbling again, shaking his head, more distressed than you’ve ever seen him aside from that fateful night.

“What’s wrong?” you ask cautiously, but he doesn’t answer, instead leans forward against the counter, looks your way with eyes like saucers, then at your phone, dragging both hands over his face until it reddens, breathing hitched. All you can do is watch and wait for it to pass, before walking over and gently leading him towards the sofa.

Adrian follows like one defeated, stumbling on his long legs. “This is a convertible,” you say as you pull it open. “I’ll bring some sheets from the other room.”

He crashes down onto the sofa, staring at you pleadingly again, and it’s as though tears are welling up in his eyes. But also something close to… anger?

You bite on your lip, turning away to take care of dinner. This whole thing — his behavior included — makes less and less sense the more time you spend around him. Your moral compass, such as it is, won’t let you think of the simplest ways you could wash your hands clean of this, but. 

But, this you know: he can’t stay here. 

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX - Part X

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MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

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Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

AN:

The pace is glacial, but I find these steps are needed.

Fun fact (to me): to help with this scene I did take actual 16th century Romanian (the earliest surviving text) through automatic translators and found:

If I take it through a translator in the Cyrillic script, it detects a variety of results such as Ukrainian, Tatar, or Russian 

If I take it through a translator using the Latin script, it does recognize 16th century Romanian as Romanian! (the form has changed but not as to be indiscernible compared to the modern version)

Btw speech translation wasn’t available unless one *knew* the source/target language, which is not the case here

[singular-yike]

ya got anything on the idiot (lumen)

Hmm, Lumen's a curious one, there are theories out there but I'm not necessarily entire on board yet, nevertheless let's take a look at what they're about, then you can decide for yourself~!

Carelessly Converging Ray of Sunshine — Lumen Celeritas

Name

Lumen's name is a bit of a weird one, it's a western name presented in Japanese order, [Family Name] [Given Name]. Thus, it is written in the original Japanese text as "Celeritas Lumen".

Their given name "lumen" is Latin for "light", and perhaps more famously the unit of luminous flux (symbol: lm), a measure of how much visible light is emitted by a source per unit of time.

Their family name "celeritas" is Latin for "speed" or "swiftness", sometimes said to be the origin of the notation c for the speed of light in a vacuum, popularised in the equation "E = mc²".

Both tie back to Lumen's ability to "take and bundle light", more on this later.

Title

Their title, Carelessly Converging Ray of Sunshine (無頓着に収束する恩光) can be largely divided into three parts:

無頓着に：Translated as "carelessly", it literally means to not care about things, to be indifferent or unconcerned.

収束する：Literally "to converge", so the translation's direct.

恩光：This one's a bit more curious. It refers to the sun's light, or light during the spring, characterised as nurturing to all life, a blessing to be grateful for.

In English, we have 恩光 translated as "ray of sunshine", "a happy person who makes others feel happy", as an approximation. This is honestly really clever, if you ask me, but I'd also like for us to keep in mind the whole "blessing/gratitude" angle, it'll come into play later.

History and Story

Lumen has seemingly been around for an incredibly long time and has apparently even helped solved a major incident in the past. Thanks to this, they're famed as one of the "Three Lights" and their heroic exploits passed down as legend to the modern day.

However, while Lumen can technically absorb both sunlight and moonlight, the latter makes them extremely agitated, violent and incapable of self-control, akin to a drunken state.

Once, they accidentally absorbed moonlight and woke up to what was once an entire village reduced into a burning field. After this event, as well as further yet unknown twists and turns, they had their power and knowledge mostly sealed.

One might then assume that this is why Lumen acts so childlike but Tenkai had heard that they were basically like this even before their powers got sealed up. Although this is a third-hand account, so maybe take it with a grain of salt.

Nevertheless, ever since the village-razing, Lumen tries their best to sleep beneath trees or within caves at night. They would from then on live their leisurely days basking in the sun during the day and sleeping in the shade during the night.

Their peaceful days would seemingly be undisturbed until the events of EMS, where they were starving from the gather clouds cutting off the sunlight from reaching them (they were too dumb to think of moving).

So they set out to flex their hero muscles once again, hoping to solve the incident... And got entirely beat up by our protagonists... oops. Losing their nerve, they went home and slept under a random tree.

Perhaps they were careless due to the extended period of shade, or perhaps they were too preoccupied by their loss, but when the sky cleared up that night, the moonlight was able to reach Lumen.

Absorbing the moonlight and going berserk, they managed to break their seal ended up unleashing an incredibly powerful spell card, "Blitz Spark".

The powerful, gigantic laser destroyed anything in its way, breaking mountains, melting the earth and even tearing a hole in the inner Mugenri Barrier.

The melted earth never settled down until the events of RMI, a whole season later, where the souls finally cooled it back down into solid rock, creating a ravine known as the Road Traveled by Light.

Tenkai Zuifeng ended up being sent to clean up after Lumen, since they were in charge of the section of the barrier Lumen broke. Lumen is apparently aware of all this and even gives Tenkai their thanks for fixing the barrier.

Additionally, though we don't know by whom, Lumen was once again sealed up, even tighter than before. This seemed to dumb them down even further, leading to the state we see them in BPoHC.

Other Lumen Curiosities

Ability on Display

Lumen's ability to "take and bundle light", which allows them to physically collect the light that shines down from the sun and bundle it up, is actually seen in action in their EMS stage 3 portrait (below).

Red Disc on Their Back

Related to Lumen's EMS appearance is the strange red disc they have on their back. It's doesn't seem to ever be explained and even when asked JynX only jokes that it's "Nevinyrral's Disk", a reference to a Magic: The Gathering card.

Personally, I think it's likely that this is just a part of the last seal put onto Lumen, considering that it breaks along with the talismans on their head during the extra stage (as seen below).

Lumen's Seals

It's actually unknown who is in charge of keeping Lumen sealed up, if anyone at all.

At the very least, it is known that their re-sealing after EMS, which is apparently much tighter than their previous one, was not done by anyone related to the Senri Shrine, as identified by Tsugumi (which is a curious point in and of itself btw but that's for another day).

Rejected From the Afterlife?!

Curiously, Lumen has twice claimed that they've been rejected from the afterlife:

EMS - Tsubakura's Route Stage 3

Tsuba "Welp, you just do your thing and ascend to Nirvana already." Lumen "Those cast out from the cycle of reincarnation can't ascend in the first place…"

EMS - Kuroji's Route Stage 3

Lumen "Sorry, but I've been deported from the Netherworld already!"

This is honestly really strange and I'm not really sure how to even really understand these lines. Did Lumen already died once and was sent back to the land of the living? Are they literally incapable of dying? Why would this be?

Understanding aside, this is certainly possble, Yaorochi and Sukune confirm in RMI that cases like these, where someone is rejected from the cycle of reincarnation, can be found just about everywhere, so Lumen somehow being one isn't out of the question.

Theory: Origins in Christianity

Yep, we're not ending with the "Other Curiosities" section today!

There's a theory on Lumen's basis that seems to be somewhat accepted by both the Japanese and Chinese fanbases, though I'm rather on the fence about it myself.

Still, regardless of whether it turns out true or not, it does make some interesting observations, so lets take a look at it:

The key observation the theory makes, is that Lumen makes multiple references to both the traditional Japanese religions (Shinto and Buddhism) and Christianity.

There's quite a lot of these references but let's briefly go through them one by one:

Lumen and the Traditional Japanese Religions

References to Shinto, these are scattered here and there with Lumen, but they include:

The Shinto talismans on their head in EMS and plastered all over them in BPoHC

As a side note, they hilariously say things like "Are you an idiot?" (阿呆加), "Idiot Hero" (馬鹿偉人) and "Big Idiot" (弩阿房) on them.

The Shinto shimenawa rope tied around their head in BPoHC

The traditional kadomatsu new year's decoration on their head in BPoHC, which has its origins in Shinto as well.

The spell card God Card "Orbs and Lines", where "god" (神) of course uses the kanji originally used to specifically refer to Shinto kami.

References to Buddhism, these are all found in Lumen's spells:

Criminal "Cross Halo"

The Japanese word used here (後光) specifically refers to the light emanating from or behind buddhas and bodhisattvas, rather than that of Christian figures.

Taiji "Tranquil as a Breeze in Daylight, as the Moon After Rain"

This references the Chinese philosophical concept of the "Taiji" (太極), often represented as what you might recognise as the Yin Yang symbol, which had been incorporated into Chinese and subsequently Japanese Buddhism.

Sumeru "One Great Constricting Universe of One Billion Worlds"

"Sumeru" is the name of the mountain at the center of the world in Buddhist cosmology, surrounded by several concentric rings of alternating mountains and oceans which form the world.

Lumen and Christianity

The first note here is Lumen's many Christian-esque lines, stuff like:

"May light shine upon thee!"

"Ah hereby absolve ya' of yer crii~iimes!"

"May light shine upon thy skeptical heart!"

"All right, I hereby grant thee salvation! Let there be light!"

"Let me cleanse you, o stray lambs."

"Let there be light unto the darkness within you!"

They may not really be all that Christian in content, but they certainly do give off that vibe.

Another point here is their spell card background (below), which features a stained glass-like pattern, of course associated with the elaborate stained glass windows found at some Christian churches.

There are also many references to the cross born by Christ in Lumen's danmaku and spell cards, including:

Their mid-boss non-spell in EMS stage 3

Shot Card "Crossfire"

Release Card "Cross Fiyah"

Criminal "Cross Halo"

Criminal "The One Burdened with the Spinning Cross"

The Theory

This curious combination of Shinto, Buddhist and Christian references lead to the theory that they're based on the Spanish Christian missionary Saint Francis Xavier.

He was the first missionary to have ever preached in Japan and realised that since the locals all believed in Buddhism, he'd have to somehow rebut its teachings yet adapt to Japanese traditions.

In one such attempt, he initially preached about the Christian God under the name "Dainichi" (大日), the Japanese version of the Buddha Vairocana, earning him welcome from the local Buddhist monks. He would later switch to "Deusu" (デウス), from the Latin and Portuguese Deus.

Francis' Latin name would hence have inspired Lumen's own Latin name, and accidental combination of Buddhism and Christianity would lead to Lumen's own seemingly confused references.

Frankly, I don't so much as disagree with the theory but am simply withholding judgement. It observations about the references to the two sides are definitely valid, at least in my opinion.

Rather, there's just not enough that we know about Lumen for me to make this judgement. Though for now I'm definitely keeping it a note in my mind.

Ending

So that finally wraps up Lumen.

It's not exactly definitive, since they're another character surrounded by mystery, despite the cheerful, lighthearted exterior but I do think it does the job fine for now.

As usual, I hope you enjoyed~! :)

[captzexx]

Candells in Space

(Got a prompt that went off the rails, I kind of like what I wrote so thought I’d put it out here)

PROMPT: with the upcoming Nov. 15 patch coming up (woo Dracthyr, woo Primalist invasions), many players are embracing the three year gap for their story. What has your character been up to in the last three years since the end of Shadowlands?

At long last after years of despair from all parties, the Candells were at last reunited.  The work and acts of the youngest of their party, Gwynn, finally reaching the end of her parents' quest to find the one lost deepest.  For on the fields of Maldraxxus during the siege of the Seat, the young druid guided by her grandfather found a face she long thought lost amongst the chaos.  

Zexx Candell found his family.

As the two embraced, a connection of the multiverse was made and linked by as much blood as spirit.  Confusion filling the man before the young Candell let her memories come to him showing him everything and every road she had fought so hard to find him.  He saw Bea.  He saw himself.  He saw her world.  He saw her being born. He saw his death.

He saw her not alone.

The three running from the field of combat came to a quiet moment near the Theater of Pain, relishing in the moments of breaking the loneliness that had swept them both.  She had one more gift for the hero for hire as she reached within her pouches to produce a tattered strip of red wool.  A confused eye as he held it in his hand, noting its familiar feeling as Zexx stared at Gwynn before she moved away from him to begin drawing sigils upon the rotted earth.  Her staff drew feverishly as she began to whisper words in language he didn't know.  Draconic.

Orbs were placed in direct positions about her circle before taking the cloth from him again.  Asking for her grandfather's hand she broke her staff revealing it to be hollow and taking out an aged hilt with a green gem upon it.

"No."

Gwynn, smiling with tears in her eyes, would place the gem and cloth in the center of the circle before slicing her palms with the broken points of her staff.  Her blood dripped into the grooves to fuel the magical energy needed as she bent her head forward to whisper further in that ancient tongue.  The anima would flare and pulse as the gem in the center matched it with a fire fueled anger.  

This was not the way.

Zexx would move forward to try and stop her, her name drowned by the growing pulsing of the energies and thickened by the growing scent of ozone.  Strong hands would grasp the unknown son as Eld kept his matching eyes on the girl ahead of them, never speaking but knowing she had to finish.  The only way now was through.

As the foul combination of magics continued to twist and be fueled by so many different outreaches, Gwynn would begin to spasm as her words tried to cut above the noise.  The center of the circle flashing as the gem stone began to glow brighter and stronger, growing wider and taller.  Revealing a doorway, gasping green and black as the gem had been often known too in the presence of some creatures.

Hands bleeding and eyes a glow with fel light, the druid's mouth would be wide in a smile of agony and triumph.  Bridging the multiverse at last to reveal to help finish her quest.  A figure would step through.

Xaya Candell would step into this mutual world now, stumble more so as she fell forward.  Her leather armor dinged with blood, snow, and burns but nothing would quell the fire in those purple tinged brown eyes.  Behind her would come the heavy footfalls of a metallic foot followed by another, the large shape of an armored giant dragging a broken mace from it's belt and broken horns atop it's head.  In it's arms it would carry a limp form wrapped in a tattered green cloak.

Rey Candell sat unmoving in the arms of the metal golem as it stalked forward, bits of steam and grinding gears announcing their arrival.  Much like her sister, Rey was in the same look of disarray with matching blood and snow.

"She's alive," a deep rumble growled from the metal creature that held the former youngest Candell.

"Thank the light," Xaya murmured as she stood up to her full height again, taking after her father obviously as she leaned on the metal arm of the golem.  "We made it, Gen."

"Xaya," the metal voice spoke again, where it could hardly modulate such a voice it seemed almost desperate to whisper her name.

"Wha-" The young woman's voice caught in her throat as she found the man they called father held tight by his near older match.  "Daddy."

The young woman didn't bother to look at her youngest sibling or anything in the world as she leapt for her father.  Zexx would be released by Eld as he opened his arms and grasped her tighter than anything in his life.  Both began to shake as they held onto each other, coming together after all this time in their grief and joy.

"You promised."

"I know."

"You said you'd come back."

"I know."

"Why?" Xaya wept into her father's chest and felt her hands grip him so tight it might crack his ribs.  The hero didn't care.

"I don't know."

Eld would have gone to Gwynn now, easing her up to sit up straight obviously drained from what she had just done.  The girl had cracked reality.

A sound like glass breaking would shatter the reunion as father and daughter would peer up into the sky.

“What’s happening?” Xaya would whisper.

“I don’t know.” Zexx replied.

“Should we run?”  The golem stalked forward with heavy thumps of his feet.

“Where would we go?”  Eld growled as he eased Gwynn up to her feet again.

“I don’t know.  What should we do then?”  The golem answered with a worried ache to his hollow tone.

“We stay together," Zexx looked up into the sky as brilliant purple cracks began to form in the green chaos swam above.  He had no idea if anyone else in this hellscape could see it but it chilled his heart to see.

“I love you,” Xaya began to weep again as she wrapped her arms about Zexx's neck, hanging on for dear life.

“It will be alright.”

THREE YEARS LATER...

The Astral Sea is endless and infinite. A cascading collage of color and shapes as it ever expands the multiverse of which it is built upon by the very will of reality.  Upon this never ocean of possibility ride the many vessels of those brave enough to ponder and wander it's chaos.  Spelljammers.

The Wayfarer is one such vessel and it's crew don't know where they are headed or why, but they're together.  And that's what families do.  They stay together.

(It’s been a year.  But this has been on my mind since, forever and a half.  It could definitely be more flesh out and should be, there’s likely lots of questions if you follow any of them from before.  But it was nice to put something to paper for them.  To set them on a new adventure in wild space.  No blog yet or plans with it yet, but who knows maybe some day.)

@zexxcandell​ @eldridgecandell​ @gatesofthetroupe​

[truecrimetime]

The Disappearance of Maura Murray

Maura Murray was a 21-year-old nursing student, completing her junior year at the University of Massachusetts Amherst at the time of her disappearance. On Monday, February 9, after midnight, Murray used her computer to search MapQuest for directions to the Berkshires and Burlington, Vermont. That same day, the first reported contact that Murray had with anyone was with her boyfriend, at 1:00pm. She emailed him: "I love you more stud. I got your messages, but honestly, I didn't feel like talking too much of anyone, I promise to call today though. love you, Maura." She also made a phone call inquiring about renting a condominium at the same Bartlett, New Hampshire, condo association that her family had vacationed with in the past. Telephone records indicate that the call lasted about three minutes. The owner did not rent the condo to Murray. Murray called a fellow nursing student for reasons unknown, at 1:13pm.

On February 9, at 1:24pm, Murray emailed a work supervisor of the nursing school faculty stating that she would be out of town for a week due to a death in her family. However, according to her family, they did not have a death in the family at that time. At 2:05 pm, Murray called a number which provides recorded information about booking hotels in Stowe, Vermont and the call lasted about five minutes. At 2:18 pm, she telephoned her boyfriend and left a voice message promising him they would talk later. This call ended after only one minute.

In her car, Murray had packed clothing, toiletries, and college textbooks. When her room was later searched, campus police discovered that most of her belongings had been packed in boxes and the art had been removed from the walls. It's not clear whether Murray packed them that day, but police at the time said she had packed between Sunday night and Monday morning.

 On top of the boxes was a printed email to Murray's boyfriend indicating that their was trouble in their relationship. Around 3:30 pm, she drove off the campus in her black 1996 Saturn sedan. Classes at the university had been canceled that day due to a snowstorm.

At 3:40pm, Murray withdrew $280 from an ATM and closed-circuit footage showed that she was alone. Murray then purchased about $40 of alcoholic beverages from a nearby liquor store. At some point in the day, she also picked up accident-report forms from the Massachusetts Registry of Motor Vehicles.

Murray left Amherst between 4 and 5pm, presumably along interstate 91 north.  She called to check her voicemail at 4:37 pm, the last recorded use of her cell phone. To date there has been no indication that she informed anyone of her destination, or any evidence that she had even chosen one.

After 7:00pm, a Woodsville, New Hampshire resident heard a loud thump outside her house. Through her window, she saw a car up against the snowbank along Route 112, also known as Wild Ammonoosuc Road. The car pointed west on the eastbound side of the road. The woman reported the car accident to the Grafton County Sherriff's Department at 7:27pm. According to the 911 call log, the woman had claimed to see a man smoking a cigarette inside the car but she later set the record straight and said that she had not seen a man smoking a cigarette but rather what appeared to be a red light glowing from inside the car, potentially from a cell phone.

 A passing motorist, a school bus driver who lived nearby, stopped at the scene. They claimed to have seen the car, as well as a young woman walking around the vehicle. The motorist noticed that the woman was not bleeding or visibly injured, but appeared to be cold ad shivering. he had offered to call for help but she asked him not to call the police, assuring him that she had already called AAA, but AAA has no record of any such call. The motorist continued home and called the police, knowing that there was no cellular reception in the area. His call was received by the Sheriff's Department at 7:43 pm. He was not able to see Murray's car when he made the call but he did notice several cars pass the road before police arrived to the scene. Another local resident driving home from work claimed to have passed the scene around 7:37pm, and saw a police SUV parked face to face with Murray's car. She pulled over briefly but did not see anyone inside or outside of the car, then deciding to continue home. However, this witness's statement contradicts the official police log, which has Haverhill police arriving nine minutes later. When the police arrived at the scene, at 7:46pm, the woman driver had disappeared. Both inside and outside the car, an officer discovered what appeared to be red wine stains. Inside the car there was an empty beer bottle, a damaged box of Franzia wine, AAA card issued to Murray, blank accident report forms, compact discs, gloves, makeup, diamond jewelry, Murray's favorite stuffed animal, driving directions to Burlington, Vermont, and Not Without Peril, a book about climbing in the White Mountains. Missing items included Murray's credit and debit cards, and cell phone, none of which have been found since her disappearance. Police were able to trace the vehicle to Murray, and initially treated her as a missing person, with the belief that she may have voluntarily disappeared. This speculation was based on her apparent travel preparations and no obvious evidence of foul play.  In 2009, Murray's case was given to the New Hampshire cold case division, and authorities are handling it as a "suspicious" missing persons case.

Sometime between 8:00 and 8:30pm, a contractor returning home from Franconia, saw a young woman, on foot, moving quickly eastbound on Route 112 about 4 to 5 miles east of where Murray's vehicle was discovered. He also noticed that the woman was wearing jeans, a dark coat, and a light-colored hood. He did not report this to police immediately due to his own confusion regarding the dates, barely discovering three months later that he had spotted this person on the same night that Murray had disappeared.

The responding officer and the bus driver drove around the area searching for Murray. Just before 8:00 pm, EMS and a fire truck arrived to clear the scene. By 8:49 pm, the car had been towed to a local garage, and at about 9:30 pm, the responding officer left. A rag believed to have been part of Murray's emergency roadside kit was discovered stuffed into the Saturn's muffler pipe. Authorities would refer to Murray as simply "missing" at 12 pm the next day, almost 24 hours after the last confirmed sighting of her.

At 12:36 pm the following day, February 10, a "Be on the Lookout" report for Murray was issued. She was reported as wearing a dark coat, jeans, and a black backpack. A voicemail was left on Fred Murray's home answering machine at 3:20 pm stating that her car had been found abandoned. He was working out of state and did not receive this call. At 5:00 pm, Murray's older sister contacted her father to make him aware of the situation. He then contacted the Haverhill Police Department and was told that, if Murray was not reported safe by the following morning, the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department would start a search. At 5:17 pm, Murray was first referred to as "missing" by the Haverhill police.

On February 11, Murray's father arrived before dawn in Haverhill. At 8:00 am, New Hampshire Fish and Game, the Murrays, and others began to search. A police dog tracked the scent from one of Murray's gloves 100 yards east from where the vehicle had been discovered, but lost the scent. This suggested to police she'd left the area in another car. At 5:00 pm, Murray's boyfriend and his parents arrived in Haverhill. He was interrogated in private, and then was joined by his parents for questioning. At 7:00 pm, the police said they believed Murray came to the area either to run away or attempt suicide but her family believed that this was unlikely.

Murray's boyfriend had turned off his cell phone during his flight to Haverhill. At some point, he had received a voicemail that he believed to be the sound of Murray sobbing. The call was traced to a calling card issued to the American Red Cross.

On February 12, Murray's father and her boyfriend held an evening press conference in Bethlehem, New Hampshire, and the next day the first press coverage was published. At 3:05 pm, the police reported Murray might be headed to the Kancamagus Highway area, and she was "listed as endangered and possibly suicidal". The police report also stated Murray was intoxicated at the crash site, although the bus driver had said she did not appear impaired. The Haverhill police chief said that, "Our concern is that she's upset or suicidal."

A week after Murray's disappearance, her father and boyfriend were interviewed by CNN's American Morning.  Murray's family expanded their search into Vermont, dismayed that authorities there hadn't been informed of her disappearance.

Although missing person cases are normally handled by local and state police, the FBI joined the investigation ten days after she disappeared. The FBI interviewed family from Massachusetts and the Haverhill police chief announced that the search was now nationwide. Ten days after her disappearance, New Hampshire Fish and Game conducted a second ground and air search, using a helicopter with a thermal imaging camera, cadaver dogs, and tracking dogs. Murray's older sister discovered a ripped white pair of women's underwear lying in the snow on a secluded trail near French Pond Road on February 26, but DNA tests found that the underwear didn't belong to Murray.

The police returned the items found in Murray's car to her family, at the end of February. On March 2, the family checked out of their motel, exhausted from the search. Fred Murray returned nearly every weekend to continue searching. In April, Haverhill Police informed him of complaints of trespassing on private property. 

The March 2004 disappearance of Brianna Maitland in Montgomery, Vermont, 66 miles away from Murray's last sighting in Woodsville, drew comparisons from media and law enforcement due to the similarities in disappearances. However, state police have stated there are no links between the two cases.

In April and again in June, New Hampshire and Vermont police dismissed any connection between Murray's case and Maitland's. In a press release, they stated they believed that "Maura was headed for an unknown destination and may have accepted a ride in order to continue to that location," adding that they had discovered no evidence that a crime had been committed. They dismissed the possibility that a serial killer was involved.

On July 1, the police retrieved the items found in Murray's vehicle from her family for forensic analysis. On July 13, a one-mile radius search was performed by nearly 100 searchers, including state troopers, rescue personnel, and volunteers. This was the fourth search around the crash area and the first search performed without snow on the ground. Authorities were most interested in locating the black backpack Murray had in her possession but not found in her car. Police stated the search discovered "nothing conclusive".

In late 2004, a man allegedly gave Murray's father a rusty, stained knife that belonged to the man's brother, who had a criminal past and lived less than a mile from where the car was discovered. His brother and his brother's girlfriend were said to have acted strangely after the disappearance, and the man's brother claimed he believed the knife had been used to kill Murray. Several days after the knife was given to Murray's father, the man's brother allegedly scrapped his Volvo.  Family members of the man who turned in the knife claimed he had made up the story in order to obtain reward money in the investigation, and that he had a history of drug use.

In 2005, Fred Murray petitioned New Hampshire Governor, Craig Benson for assistance in the search and appeared on The Montel Williams Show in November of 2004 to publicize the case. On February 9, 2005, the first anniversary of Murray's disappearance, a service was held where the car was found, and her father met briefly with New Hampshire Governor, John Lynch.

In late 2005, Fred Murray filed suit against several law enforcement agencies, with the aim of seeing files on the case. On November 1, 2005, a user named "Tom Davies" logged into a message board called "Not Without Peril", which was dedicated to discussion of Murray's disappearance, and claimed to have seen a black backpack behind a restroom at Pemigewasset Overlook, around 30 miles east of Woodsville on Route 112. Murray had owned a black backpack. Senior Assistant Attorney General Jeffery Strelzin stated that law enforcement "was aware of the backpack," but did not disclose whether it had been taken for forensic testing.

The New Hampshire League of Investigators, ten retired police officers and detectives, and the Molly Bish Foundation started working on the case in 2006. Tom Shamshak, a former police chief and a member of the Licensed Private Detectives Association of Massachusetts, said, "It appears...that this is something beyond a mere missing persons case. Something ominous could have happened here." The Arkansas group Let's Bring Them Home offered a $75,000 reward in 2007 for information that could solve her disappearance.

In October 2006, volunteers led a two-day search within a few miles of where Murray's car was found.  In the closet of an A-frame house approximately 1 mile from the crash site, cadaver dogs allegedly went "bonkers", possibly identifying the presence of human remains. The house had formerly been the residence of the man implicated by his brother, who had given Fred Murray the rusty knife in 2004.  A sample of carpet from the home was sent to the New Hampshire State Police, but the results were never released to the public. In July 2008, volunteers led another two-day search through wooded areas in Haverhill. The group consisted of dog teams and licensed private investigators.

Murray's case was one of many cited by proponents of a statewide cold case unit for New Hampshire in 2009. Her case was subsequently added to the newly established cold case unit later that year.  In 2010, Fred Murray publicly criticized the police investigation for treating the disappearance as a missing persons case and not a criminal matter, and called on the FBI to join the investigation. Jeffery Strelzin said in February 2009 that the investigation was still active: "We don't know if Maura is a victim, but the state is treating it as a potential homicide. It may be a missing-persons case, but it's being handled as a criminal investigation."

In 2014, on the tenth anniversary of Murray's disappearance, Strelzin stated that "We haven't had any credible sightings of Maura since the night she disappeared." In an article published in the New York Daily News on the tenth anniversary of his daughter's disappearance, it was reported that Fred Murray believed she was dead and had been abducted the night of her disappearance.

On February 9, 2017, the thirteenth anniversary of Murray's disappearance, Strelzin wrote in an email to The Boston Globe: "It's still an open case with periods of activity and at times it goes dormant. There are no new updates to share at this time."

In February 2019, the fifteenth anniversary of Murray's disappearance, Fred Murray reiterated his belief that his daughter was dead, as well as his suspicions about the nearby house that cadaver dogs responded to, stating, "That's my daughter, I do believe." In early April, excavation was done within the basement of the house. Fred Murray had previously wanted to search the home, but the owners did not cooperate. Following sale of the property, its new owners allowed several searches of the property since February. The excavation conducted in early April found "absolutely nothing, other than what appears to be a piece of pottery or old piping."

In early 2021, the tree at the site where Murray was last seen—which had been marked with a blue ribbon as a memorial—was cut down by the property owner. Shortly thereafter, a request from Murray's family to have a New Hampshire historical marker placed at the site, which had been submitted in late 2020, was turned down by the New Hampshire Division of Historical Resources. 

On September 14, 2021, New Hampshire State Police announced that bone fragments had been found on Loon, Mountain in Lincoln, New Hampshire, approximately 25 miles east of the site of Murray's crash. Murray had been to the mountain before and had knowledge of the area, according to her sister. The bone fragments were described as "pretty small," and it was expected to take at least two months to determine if they were the remains of Murray or not. In November, it was announced that the remains did not belong to Murray.

In January 2022, FBI issued a national alert in Murray's case and created a Violent Criminal Apprehension Profile, allowing multiple law enforcement agencies to share information regarding her case. In July 2022, law enforcement in New Hampshire initiated a search in the towns of Landaff and Easton.

It's important to note that before Murray had disappeared, she had showed some rather irregular behavior. In November 2003, three months before her disappearance, Murray admitted to using a stolen credit card to order food from several restaurants, including one in Hadley, Massachusetts. The charge was continued in December, and dismissed after three months' of good behavior.

On the evening of February 5, 2004, while she was on duty at her campus-security job, Murray spoke on the phone with her older sister, Kathleen. They discussed Kathleen's relationship problems with her fiancé. Around 10:30 p.m., while still on her shift, Murray reportedly broke down in tears. When her supervisor arrived at her desk, Murray was "just completely zoned out. No reaction at all. She was unresponsive." The supervisor escorted Murray back to her dorm room around 1:20 am. When asked what was wrong, Murray said two words: "My sister." The contents of this call remained unknown until October 2017, when Kathleen publicly explained the conversation: Kathleen, a recovering alcoholic, had been discharged from a rehabilitation clinic that evening, and on the way home, her fiancé took her to a liquor store, which caused an emotional breakdown.

On Saturday, February 7, Murray's father Fred arrived in Amherst. He told investigators he and Murray went car-shopping that afternoon, and later went to dinner with a friend of his daughter. Murray dropped her father off at his motel room and, borrowed his Toyota Corolla, and returned to campus to attend a dorm party. She arrived at 10:30 pm. At 2:30 am on Sunday, February 8, she left the party. At 3:30 am, en route to her father's motel, she struck a guardrail on Route 9 in Hadley, causing nearly $10,000 worth of damage to her father's car. The responding officer wrote an accident report, but there is no documentation of field sobriety tests being conducted. Murray was driven to her father's motel and stayed in his room the rest of the morning. At 4:49 am, there was a cell phone call placed to her boyfriend from Fred's phone. The participants and content of the phone call are not known.

Later Sunday morning, Fred Murray had learned that the damage done to his vehicle would be covered by his auto insurance. He rented a car, dropped Murray off at the university, and departed for Connecticut. At 11:30 that night, Fred called his daughter to remind her to obtain accident forms from the Registry of Motor Vehicles. They agreed to talk again Monday night to discuss the forms and fill out the insurance claim via phone.

Maura Murray has never been found.

[rametarin]

True leadership is agnostic.

Just letting my mind wander on the subject of the role of government and authority.

There’s nothing written in the stars that says any particular kind of government or institution has to be shaped a certain way to function or be moral. Outliers can exist that work, if they have the right people.

The problem is that certain systems and setups with government and economics lend themselves more towards corruption, in their environment and times. The same setup for one culture and group might not be as successful as another, and there are a million and one unknown reasons, large and small, direct and indirect, that might happen.

No matter what scenario, however, you’re limited by your ultimately known levels of sciences, interdisciplinary specialties, markets to properly exploit, utilize and employ them, and your access to material resources to properly utilize them.

What is ‘society’ for? Essentially, convenience. A single human on their own doesn’t need it, provided they have enough easy access to their needs from the environment and no expectations for an easy life, or a comfortable death spiral towards an inevitable aging end. But that’s the trick, isn’t it. How do you feed yourself, acquire the resources and knowledge and culture to know how to get the right tools to protect and provide for yourself, without knowledge of the ages and other people?

This consensus of convenience to not expire is about the only real reason humans confederate or federalize for an easy truce. In theory, a properly empowered person that doesn’t need an army of people to live a life full of modern conveniences, is a person that doesn’t need to exist on property ultimately owned by an institution or social structure. They can fuck off and go wherever they want.

But in real life, a human being is a short lived, naked, squishy pink thing limited by their own mortality, vulnerability and near trapped living on the 2d plane of an entire planet full of hostile beasts, effectively blind without technology or artificial light half the time, and still dependent on scarce food to survive.

But suppose you accommodated these vulnerabilities in the name of liberal self-empowerment. Suppose you advanced mathematics and material science to such a degree where you have a machine that could absorb rocks and sunlight and turn any concentration of any mineral into clothes, structure for fabricated tools, or complex mechanical or electronic parts, from simple dirt. Suppose you knew the blueprint of every single allele, gene and protein in the body, had the means to use AI to study and derive all new information from every single mutation as it occurs in a genome in real time, and accommodate for it with synthetic medicine to repair or recover.

That effectively, every chemical need of a human body could be solved for the equivalent of the cost of buying a wash rag and soap, without involving a medical establishment or the government for permission from this amazing techology. No mysteries of any organ or cell cluster left. The road map for what they are, their common parlance names and how to manipulate them for optimal health was solved.

And for that matter, the dross of an entire system and establishment’s monopoly removed from it, as well. The way you no longer even need a true doctor’s visit to buy pregnacy tests or birth control. If those products and services came out today, insurance companies and the government would want a complete monopoly on those where you’re required to get them through official channels, not from the corner store on your own dime, and then raise the price internally so each product was extremely artificially expensive.

If that predatory system of government and government-anointed corporatism was removed from the equation, suddenly the medical industry makes substantially less money than the great big gorging mainline arterial feed to the public’s money, either directly from gouging consumers or from the government, just to necessitate insurance, which just necessitates government mandated control over it. This system that is set up is done so, specifically to monopolize people’s access to healthcare and require they buy into a system and live in accordance to those institutional mandates in order to reap the benefits, or pay obscene robbery fees. And then be told, “Well look at how greedy capitalism is. You should totally socialize medicine the rest of the way to fix it. :^)”

Because objectively speaking, we’re just a few surgical amodeuses away from having AI and machines that do even complex and sophisticated surgery for a pittance of a price, extremely intelligent fabricators that can make any imaginable medicine and go through the phases of testing in a matter of hours, and lab equipment that’s so flexible and cheap that by all rights the only thing preventing end users from owning them at home would be artificial corporate monopoly under the bogus line of, “public safety.” Not even from patent trolling, just compromising regulation and legislation to protect the financial interests and monopoly of providers of certain products and services.

But suppose you could cut this dross out and every imagined, finite, perceptible biological problem could be analyzed, quantified and handled today the way the common person handles influenza or a cold. You would still need medical doctors to service the population, no doubt, but the necessity of enormous hospitals as institutions would go away. You would not need any sort of representative or governing body to provide your healthcare for you; at that level of knowledge and self-determinism and resources, monitoring yourself for cancers would be like checking yourself for ticks. No part of your anatomy or mortal frailty would be beyond your ability to do something about, and thus, control and liberation over your own physical autonomy would be achieved. That handles healthcare.

Then we get to the subject of an individual needing to acquire a certain quota of food per day of their lives, in cycle. The Daily Bread, as they say.

In the past, this has meant you either dedicated yourself to the life of property owning for susstenance farming, or you lived off of a dedicated section of your society that handled that and just interacted with the market. You could have a life where you owned land and worked it to provide food, or you just purchased from market and weren’t obligated to have anything, but seldom both.

Making food is a very stressful process that requires a great deal of open space and materials. At least, the conventional ways we’ve been doing it. And in cities, realestate is at a premium, due to the necessity of space. You need to be blessed regionally with good, arable space and land to stick your crops in and rotate it, as crops deplete minerals in the soil and drain it of life over time. And if you aren’t, you don’t get good food. Not having the resources laying around means you either pay to import the food, you pay to import the soil, or you pay ludicrous amounts for the scarce land that by nature isolates you, because no one can afford to be that far from the ease of civilization for long without compromise.

But suppose we developed our knowledge to where self-sufficiency was possible without this entire system. All it’d take is cultivating a source of decomposers to make fertilizer (worm caps) and micro gardens. Aeroponics, vertical farms, hydroponics. It’d mean that conceivably, with the right access to proper low tech machines and AI, you could provide enough food for yourself with a minimum amount of sunlight.

Now imagine we plan cities this way. Condos, for example, designed to let in enough light on one side of the condo to sustain the needs of a self-sufficiency garden. Or, compensate those that don’t live in properly sunned places by giving them access to the energy to use grow lights. Suddenly you have a democratized and individualized source of agrarian sufficiency, not dependent on natural abundance of resources and real estate. The extreme burden of feeding entire cities from a countryside is vastly reduced, individuals become able to sustain themselves through environment controlled greenhouses in their own homes optionally nannied by machines, you do away with the problem of prison cell sized apartment complexes that herd people living too concentrated together.

In fact, if we considered farming to be a kind of human right and demanded places where regulated housing was the norm to accommodate for the option of farming practices, we would remove the necessity of people to either pay exorbitant fees for food, or starve, and the possibility that military raids could starve out cities entirely. Refining farming practices, from creation and maintenance of soil, heirloom seed and land rights, would mean whether someone chooses to buy food and use the rest of the space as luxury or use the extra space for production, property ownership in cities would be large amounts of land, as a norm.

Whereas by contrast, self-sufficiency outside of a city is much easier. Especially if, with the right materials, you could either purchase (YAY CAPITALISM) or manufacture solar cells, or micro geothermal on your own property. And with the same knowledge that makes vertical farming, aeroponics and hydroponics possible inside of a city, with the benefits of more land and space and air in more suburban or rural areas, you could even cut down on exactly how much land you need for the same one-person susstenance farming you do, with minimal wasted water and minimal fertilizer pollution or wasted soil.

Suddenly when the science and knowledge and technology is there, and the resources, and the mechanical means to operate them are privately owned by individuals and sold by other private enterprises, it becomes possible to free governments from the necessity of nationalizing food production or providing it. They can merely assume their role as quality control and regulation of that which is sold to others on the markets and acquire taxed shares that way, minimizing paperwork, labor and management of human resources for all. Each individual person on average becoming capable of providing for themselves, in a pinch, for dynamic and changing markets when needed. Ways to cut and mitigate shortages.

Electrical power?

While safety and regulatory bodies that answer to the government are a given, there’s no reason why privately owned and registered power companies that offer everything from installed solar and wind turbines, to nuclear reactors, couldn’t be possible. And in fact, there’s no reason why individual people with the proper qualifications couldn’t possess and start their own. Clearly, not everybody can own a coal mine, or an oil field. But millions of geothermal vents using heat from the depths of the earth to turn water to steam and back again to power generators means millions of tons of coal left unburnt or thousands of acres of solar panels per day that are needed less, as they meet an individual’s requirements and all the surplus they could need.

In short, there really shouldn’t BE any monopolized service that the government necessitates itself to provide for you in return for a hefty premium of your money. I’m not saying it should charge society to provide it for free, I’m saying that the necessity for it to provide shouldn’t be a thing; with the right level of access to the market and the ability to publish and print the knowledge, access to the internet, everything from medicine, to access to electrical power, to a million labor saving devices, their manufacturing and engineering and your ability to feed yourself, should all be things you can reasonably and reliably DO on the small scale, allowing yourself to not NEED an enormous, active society, nor the social contracts required by them in the form of taxation or forced participation.

This isn’t to say I’m against nationalism. I am, actually, a big proponent of nationalism. And borders, for purposes of law. But exactly how much control and compromise those governments and nations get to exert over our personal lives and decisions and ability to associate, not so big a fan.

The government’s role, when we do it properly, should be simple oversight of the bureaucracy to judiciously govern it in accordance to the principles of liberalism. The true, best role of government is not to manage people, but enable them to create and construct and govern themselves with a minimum of intrusion and maximum effectiveness. Regulation based on what is most sensible and least invasive.

And for that matter, it should only count for property inhabited and voluntary association in the form of citizenship. I disagree, vehemently, with the Sovereign Citizen concept. Absolutely abhor it. You do not get to enjoy the conveniences of a nation by living in it without registering to be part of it, nor do you get to engage in commerce or wealth building without participating in the one everybody else is engaging in. That’s just regional parasitism.

With this in mind, clearly for the purposes of provisions and liberty, some forms of government and society are more adequate than others. In short, governments that try to combine society with culture and institution and economy just become big lumbering authoritarian shitboxes that believe it’s in the group and the nation’s best interests if you live according to what it thinks is best for you, and what it thinks is best for you is what would be most convenient to its growth and power. This is unacceptable to me. That’s not about liberty or prosperity, that’s about controlling your neighbor and managing them into a cell.

Socialism in my eyes tries to get around the whole, “directly commanding people” problem by instituting itself as the provider of your rights and then monopolizing access and management and provision of them. Regulation to a socialist is simply pretending you aren’t wearing a leash, when in fact, it’s just a leash by proxy. It still belives itself the rightful owner of the air that you breathe, and you’ve been complimentarily taxed to afford it. You need air to breathe, you’re materially unlikely to be able to provide your own air, so they think they have you there; “air is a human right, we need all your money so you can breathe, therefore, you owe us labor and submission as per the social contract.”

Communism in concept and practice is just absolutely ridiculous and antithetical to sense and reality that I have absolutely zero respect for it. Many of the supposed merits are just window dressing and this entire idea can only exist on paper, because it has so much baggage tied to it relating to crackpot theories on human nature, psychology and pseudo-intellectualism on “the inevitable progression of the humanities” that it makes my blood boil. A million babbling bullshit artists trying to justify a secular religious view and communually deciding to listen and believe in an asshole. It cultivates a specific variety of person that sincerely believes you can be a conniving, parasitic used car salesman/mob hatchetman and be an emphatic individual because you like the IDEA of people and structures which allegedly are meant to service the idea of the public, while in practice being completely ineffectual to them. And overall only seems suited as the Rock Candy Mountain dreams of narcotics addicted hobos that want to sell participation in a perfect society where the hobo doesn’t have to work, to people that would be forced to work.

Anarchy and hard anarcho-capitalism are just sad, dystopian states where regulation is corporate and enforced by Pinkertons and rapidly devolves into the only people that have the means or care to exert control over it are nepotistic gangland feudal families that inevitably become warring states on the micro and macro scale of organization. Inevitably, you will statistically get people that see no harm in shooting you in the head and stealing your stuff because you’re less important than they are in their minds, whether it’s because they don’t care about anyone, only care about their bloodline, only care about their social family, only care about their race, or only care about their spirituality. Organization on the basis of population that seeks to subdue and destroy other populations is the bane of anarchism.

For my money, if we are to have a government and society at all, I prefer it to be one of minimalism. Secular modernity operated and regulated under a liberal legal framework that allows for the participation but does not entrench the values of people. Whatever culture or community they envision for themselves, whatever associations of family. This makes no assumptions about what the human groups are or aren’t composed of, it only accommodates them.

If, technologically, scientifically, we could have all the benefits of modern society that the individual could near effortlessly provide for themselves, we should have the option and not be pigeonholed into a centralized system where resources are provided via a monopoly.

Militarily, I am wholeheartedly in favor of a nationalized military force. And in my eyes, national property is part of the nation but owned by the states, with a minimum of federal criteria the states must follow. A military should reflect the population that inhabits the country and its people, with the knowledge that if that military ever starts being turned on unorganized people to proactively impose force on them, on behalf of the government or its own power, that military becomes illegitimate. Militaries should be subserviant to the government and general public. I’ll never dispute or feel bad about a bill from Uncle Sam when it comes to the price of missiles or engineering.

Private property is absolutely amazing and good and wonderful and a human right. And in an ideal universe, you would not have to pay property tax to own land. Ideally, the family homestead should be owned by a person forever. Sadly, we do not live in a world where others will respect this; nothing is sacred in a secular, material universe with entropy. People will game the system to snatch up all the land either personally or in the name of an organization, or even a vague and abstract ideal, one way or another.

So in my eyes, the only proper way to handle property ownership is to scale taxation based on amount of it owned, based on region, with a bias towards those that have no property at all to incentivize ownership of it and participation in civil society as a land owner, steward and landlord. The more people with their own legal nirvanha, the more engaged the citizenry and more self-sufficient the society, able to handle their own needs and take the load of management and control off the government, back into the individuals’ hands, not some vague body of them.  Regulation shouldn’t be there to punish small business or browbeat them into participation and encourage them to be corporate to function at all; Government should prize small business as vital parts of society that can operate and change in ways that large businesses cannot. If you are a nuclear family of 2-8, you shouldn’t have to pay a tax to own so much land, merely have it on legal record that you own the deed to the land, signed certified and acknowledged by the government.

If done properly, the consequences of a less regulated market would be mitigated by knowledge of best practices and a strong legal system and framework. It shouldn’t matter if Potato Crunchies (made up company) goes under; those 80,000 people can re-employ and re-train quickly and new businesses can emerge. No company should ever be so essential that it’s too big to fail, and the proper way to prevent that isn’t nationalizing a resource, it’s by enabling many independent hands to be able to operate equally on it and compete to provide the best possible product. Failure of this is simply failure of knowledge of the subject matter.

And for fucks sake, this government/university bedroom partnership needs to STOP. Universities either need to become more democratic and the communities need to be able to hire/fire teachers based on their subjects and curriculum and education outcomes, or they need to disentangle with the government and stop allowing colleges and universities to keep raising prices, necessitating tuition hikes, necessitating government loans for college, which necessitate tuition hikes, etc. Colleges and universities have too much power and it is a manipulation of a socialized system by necessity simply to exploit federalism, which they then wave the, “don’t blame me, blame capitalism” fan.

Certification should be handled by private industry and the government, and not necessitate the institutional bodies of education in order to validate or certify that an individual can operate in their suggested task. That necessitates 1-10 years of education, no matter how much it costs, and allows the higher educational institution to shape tuition and curriculum as a kind of purity test based on social and cultural values. Mandating you need certain numbers of credits in things you are not interested in, is robbery. Education in unrelated fields should not be mandatory for certification in an occupation. And colleges definitely are padding out curriculum specifically to pay tenured professors and cliques in their own psycho-social interests and ambitions. This needs to stop.

 Anything less than this is simply trying to treat an individual as a pawn in someone elses idea of how you should live, whom you should live for, and whom gets to dictate or regulate over your life.

[popentertainment-moviereviews]

BOOMERANG – 30th ANNIVERSARY EDITION (1992)

Starring Eddie Murphy, Halle Berry, Robin Givens, David Alan Grier, Martin Lawrence, Grace Jones, Geoffrey Holder, Eartha Kitt, Chris Rock, Tisha Campbell, Lela Rochon, John Witherspoon, John Canada Terrell, Leonard Jackson, Jonathan P. Hicks, Tom Mardirosian, Irv Dotten, Melvin Van Peebles, Rhonda Jensen, Alyce Webb, Louise Vyent, Frank Rivers, Angela Logan, Chuck Pfeifer, Raye Dowell, Reginald Hudlin and Warrington Hudlin.

Screenplay by Barry W. Blaustein & David Sheffield.

Directed by Reginald Hudlin.

Distributed by Paramount Pictures. 117 minutes. Rated R.

After starting his film career on a huge high – his first three films 48 Hrs., Trading Places and Beverly Hills Cop were not just big hits, they were critically beloved – Eddie Murphy’s career as a comic actor came crashing to Earth soon enough. In the 40 years after his explosion out of the gate, Murphy has made an extraordinarily long line of bad films. Every once in a while, he’ll sneak in a fairly good one – like Coming to America, Bowfinger, Dreamgirls, Dolemite is My Name and animated roles in Shrek and Mulan. (Sorry, I know The Nutty Professor is also considered by many to be a high point for him, but I couldn’t stand that movie.)

Boomerang is another one of the fairly good ones. It is very much a product of its times – the entire company where the film takes place would be in for a weeks-long sexual harassment seminar if HR ever found out all the crap that was going on there.

However, it’s mostly funny, entertaining and has a strong, diverse cast. (Among the co-stars were the then fairly unknown Halle Berry, Chris Rock, Martin Lawrence and Tisha Campbell.)

And it had a spectacular soundtrack, spawning several big hit singles – “End of the Road” by Boyz II Men, “I’d Die Without You” by PM Dawn, “Love Should’ve Brought You Home” by Toni Braxton, “Give U My Heart” by Babyface & Toni Braxton, and more.

The pleasant surprise, 30 years down the line as the film gets its first Blu-ray release, is that the film has aged pretty well. (As a movie, as noted before it’s way off sociologically in the #MeToo era, but its casual view of sex – from both genders – is also sort of entertaining in a nostalgic way.)

Murphy plays Marcus Graham, a high-powered advertising exec at a major beauty conglomerate. He is also a complete hound with the ladies. (Literally, the film soundtracks his doubletakes checking out women with a “woof.”) He’s known as a player, and also known for dumping women flat the second he gets them to bed. He’s the type of guy who will pretend he’s lost an imaginary dog to get in with a gorgeous dog lover. He’s also the type of guy who will dump that same woman flat after sex because he decides she has ugly toes.

You know that he is due some comeuppance, and that comes in the form of his new boss, Jacqueline Broyer (played by Robin Givens). Jacqueline is the same type of predatory lover as he is, and quickly is using him for occasional booty calls, but mostly ignoring him. Marcus is not used to being on the other side, and soon he is as needy and insecure as any of his exes, which, not surprisingly, is merely pushing her away even more.

And then there’s her gorgeous assistant (played by Halle Berry), who is sweet, caring and becomes Marcus’ friend.

You see where this is going, don’t you?

Okay, it’s not the most original storyline, but surprisingly it works pretty well. Murphy is a bit more empathetic than he normally allows himself for be on screen, and he has great chemistry with his two best buddies (David Allan Grier and Martin Lawrence). And while there are a few kind of embarrassing supporting roles played by older stars (Grace Jones, Geoffrey Holder and Eartha Kitt), for the most part it still works surprisingly well.

Boomerang is not as good as Murphy’s original classics, but still it’s one of the few examples that he has still got “it” that has come in the past few decades. Like I said, it’s definitely a movie of its time, but it actually makes for some relatively enjoyable time traveling.

Dave Strohler

Copyright ©2022 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: June 28, 2022.

[eri-pl]

I lahorima anna / 3: The Enemy

(info)

(This is the first chapter with some swearing and some ...damage happening. Not much.)

Rainel sped up. The engine, as always, murmured like a playful kitten, asking for more fuel. But it wasn’t a good time to play, not only because they were going alongside a sharp cliff. She let the car run at a steady pace, fast enough to carry them home in a good time, but quiet enough to let them have a conversation. 

She swallowed hard. “There is something terrible going on.”

“A wild zone somewhere nearby?” asked Sarnel.

“Something even worse. The forests had been just a beginning. Do you remember the meteor shower? The strange one, in late March?”

“That again?”

Rainel ignored her sister’s skepticism. Fortunately she had Sarnel sitting right behind her and unable to interrupt much. Nadir smiled, and Nallamo turned sharply from Sarnel to look straight at Rainel in the convex inner mirror. Have they also read the article? But no, nobody would smile. 

“It would be easier to explain if I knew how much you have heard about it,” she said.

“I came to Eithel Turin shortly after it,” said Nadir, “and I haven't heard much.”

Nallamo was silent and sat straight, leaning forward.

Rainel turned her gaze back to the road. “It wasn't anything like how meteor showers should work. One of the lights was unusually big, but there was no vibration of the ground when it fell, and no matching object was found, despite intense searches. All of the meteors came from an odd direction, not associated with any known object. Because of that, astronomers investigated it closely.”

Her breath quickened.

“They found some of the meteorites, made of an unknown metal and oddly shaped. Really oddly. Doctor Dukan gathered many of them and decided to put those shapes together—”

Sarnel interrupted her. “You know he’s a hoax. Everybody knows that. Come on, Nallamo, at least you tell me that you don’t believe Dukan is a real scientist.” 

“I don't know who he is, and I have no idea what to tell you. Please, let's not discuss it right now.”

“We need to!” said Rainel.

“This is going to make it all much simpler,” said Nadir, “or at least much more entertaining. But continue. There is a man who fakes being a scientist—”

“He faked some things, that’s why today I visited him to see for myself. I’m not naive. It may very well turn out you were the naive ones.” Rainel held the driving wheel so tight that her knuckles turned white. 

“This metal was green and red, depending on the light. Which, according to science, metals cannot do. And the pieces fit together. They formed links, like from a chain. Broken. Shattered.” She paused, waiting for the understanding to hit them.

It did not. Nallamo simply nodded, and Nadir looked at her in the mirror with those unnerving eyes, smiling slightly. They had believed her about Aman, how could they ignore her now? Maybe they didn't know the legends well enough.

Rainel took a deep breath. “It means the world is ending. It means Morgoth, the ancient Enemy, has returned.”

Nadir smiled wider. “I prefer to be called Melkor.”

His eyes, as cold as ice. Knowing exactly when she had lied. ‘I'm many things and was much more.’

The scars.

The road went somewhere, replaced in the window by the dark sea.

Scream.

Push from the side, directions dancing, shouts in a mix of languages, loud thump, explosion of hot pain on the side of her face and finally dead silence. 

The car was motionless, facing partially the road and partially the stone cliffside. Did she crash it? 

Nadir took his hands off the steering wheel. The left side of Rainel’s head pulsed with pain and there was blood on the wheel. On his hand.

She studied the man as if she first saw him. 

No. Not man. It wasn't a man. 

It was an ancient nightmare. 

No.

This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t be Morgoth. He couldn't.

He looked at the blood on his hand —her blood — and licked it with a smile.

Icy cold filled Rainel's body and held her motionless, helpless. Someone was speaking far away, words muffled by her heartbeat. Someone was calling her name.

The monster stood up and— and got out. Just like that. No, Nallamo told him to. How did he do it? 

Sarnel came to her, helped her out of the car and sat her on the ground.

“Rainel? Rainel, please…” Sarnel tried not to shake. Half of her sister’s face was covered in blood and she wasn’t replying. “Please…”

Nallamo sat at her side, putting a blanket over Rainel. “Shh… Look at me. It’s all right. He's not a danger to you now. I will protect you, child.” He turned to Sarnel. “She’ll be fine. Just give her some time to calm down.”

“She’s bleeding!”

“Yes, she is. A handkerchief would be useful. A couple of them, in fact. But I can handle it.” He was so calm, even smiling slightly. “Sarnel, I’ve seen more wounds than you’ve seen sunsets. I know a serious one from one that we’ll joke about in a few weeks. Yes, I will explain, but now you two need peace.

“Rainel is overwhelmed with fear and may have a slight concussion, that's all. And you're overwhelmed too. You can leave your sister to me now. Her bleeding looks scary but it’s already ceasing. Give her a few hours without riding this thing, or talking to— him.” His face tensed as he glanced at Nadir, who turned away and walked along the road, then softened as he turned to Rainel again. “You’re safe, child, You’re safe here.”

So many questions she’d have to ask. Some of them were more important than the others. More useful than panicking at the sight of her sister's wound. She got up and followed Nadir.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

He kept walking and barely turned towards her. “She would figure it out anyway. And what was I to do, pretend to like that name? I don’t know what your problem is. It’s not my fault she tried to throw us all into the sea.”

Sarnel couldn't find words for a moment. Did Nadir really expect she'd buy it? He was even limping correctly, which, irrationally, made her more angry.

“You could have gotten my sister killed!”

“I? Did I panic and swerve?” He took a deep breath. “Listen, I didn't try to get any of you killed, even Maglor. I had no idea she would—”

“Oh, stop it already! You can’t even lie properly, on so many levels. From all people… I guess Nalamo with his style had to be Maglor, if you were going for this kind of a crazy joke, but Morgoth is the last person… creature… something  a Feanorian would cooperate with. Read books sometimes. Or better not read them, this way you won't risk getting more idiotic ideas.” Saenel looked him straight in the eyes. “Listen. Do not ever try this kind of thing on my sister again. Do you understand?”

They stared at each other, unblinking. 

“How do I prove to you that I wasn’t lying?”

She turned back to the roadside. “One of the many supernatural things that you are, I guess, temporarily incapable of, for some reason? Please, just stop. I believed the organized crime part, but now you lost me.”

Nadir snickered. “You’re very insightful for a mortal, you know. All right, I lied or whatever you want to believe. I'm sorry for scaring your sister. As for the car, maybe you didn’t notice, but it was me who stopped it safely. Are we fine now?”

“Safely?”

“Mostly safely. I’m sure it’ll ride again.” He walked away from her.

Sarnel followed. “I haven’t finished talking to you.”

“What do you want now? I don't have to explain myself to you.”

“You are the one who wants our help, not the other way around. And I doubt anyone else will be more willing to help you in whatever exactly you are trying to achieve. Or that anybody other than my sister is good enough. So you will cooperate.” Sarnel spoke slowly, her anger turning into focus.

“Either you two are some kind of criminals, at least people with really bad life choices and a terrible taste in jokes. In this case I want the truth, full and without additions, if I am going to have anything to do with you again, especially if I’m going to try to persuade my sister that you are not a monster from a children's book and that you can go anywhere near her airplane.

“Or let's assume that you two are in fact something more than I thought possible. Not monsters, obviously, but something vaguely elf-like, unknown to science. In this case I also want the truth. Because, in this case, we might actually have some destination to fly to, even if it's not exactly what Rainel thinks. And to which you clearly have no other transport available. 

“I don’t think you’re in a position to refuse to talk with me either way.”

Nadir shrugged. “Rainel promised me that she’ll take us.”

“And it matters because…?”

He stopped and faced Sarnel again, his back to the road and the sea below. His voice was eerily calm. “Because those children's books, as you call them, are real. Mostly. Big part is awfully biased. But promises, well, if you want to know why promises matter, you have a perfect person to ask just there. You still don’t believe me?” 

He paused and a chill ran down Sarnel’s spine. His eyes were so pale and cold. “You don’t believe me. That’s a bad choice. Definitely a bad choice. Like the summer ten years ago when you all didn’t invite Daisy and Gelliel to go to the lake with you. Did they ever learn why? So jealous. It must have been a really pretty dress. If I… ” He shook his head. “Nevermind. Just take us both on that flight, me and that idiot.”

Sarnel stepped back, trembling, until the cliff blocked her way. “What— How—” Her head was spinning and she leaned on the steep stone. Did he just read her mind? He could have somehow heard about the lake incident if he asked around about her, but the dress? She never told anyone why she didn’t invite her then best friends for her eighteenth birthday.

He smiled for a short moment. “See? I know evil,” he said quietly, turning back to the side. “I made it. I wish I hadn’t, but here we are.”

This all made no sense. Morgoth, the Enemy, creator of all evil, just crashed their car. Was she dreaming or drunk?

Or was he all that? He was more than a human, for sure. It didn’t mean that everything in the stories was true. He wasn't an eight-foot-tall giant of fire and charred flesh, for example. Anyway, he was either in fact that unimaginably evil creature, or a skilled liar with at least some supernatural abilities. She hoped for the latter.

He was cooperative, Sarnel could make him talk. And she needed to know more. 

She stood firmer and they continued down the road. “All right. Assuming that you are telling me the truth, why are you and Maglor working together?”

“Oh, he hates me, of course he does. He couldn't do otherwise even if he wanted to. But I am the one who can get us into Valinor. And he needs that flight.” Nadir — Morgoth? — lowered his voice to a whisper, glancing at the distant figures by the car. “By the way, he will try to attack Earendil on the way, so we will need to tie him up.”

She nodded. Earendil. The third Silmaril. Of course that was what Maglor would do, what he would have to do. “You read his mind too.”

“I don’t— I know evil in people. I made it, remember? The Eldar had always been more of a problem, and that stupid Oath makes his spirit even stronger. But he will go for Earendil, it’s the only logical explanation of why he wants to fly with you.”

“Maybe he wants to, I don’t know, ask the Valar for forgiveness?” Sarnel looked down, focusing on her steps, on the gravely roadside, on anything other than the sheer absurdity of their discussion.

Morgoth — no, if she were to play this game she should probably call him by the more polite name — talked in a casual tone, as if they were discussing weather or golf. “The Oath wouldn’t let him ignore the opportunity. When I met him, he was just sitting there like a coward, and waiting for the world to end. And now he’s focused. And willing to work with me, to some extent. He must have a Silmaril on his mind.”

She still felt dizzy and dreamlike. It was all too crazy. Better to focus on something. On getting more information from him. About this… this whole hypothetical.

“And you? Why do you want to go?”

“My goals are my own.” Less casual tone. Was that good or bad?

Either way, she needed answers. “And our ornithopter is our own. It’s a civilian aircraft. I won’t let it be used in some cosmic coup.”

“Maybe I, in contrast, actually do want to ask them for forgiveness?” he said with a sneer.

Really bad lie, plain sarcasm, or an inconvenient truth? Why would Morgoth care about forgiveness? What was he hiding? Trying to outsmart legendary beings was a bad idea, according to all sources. But Sarnel was a scientist, what else could she do? She gathered the facts in her mind, trying to make sense of them all.

She forced herself to look up, to see his expressions. “Back in the museum you said they let you free. The relevant authorities, remember? And now you need to ask them to absolve you?”

He looked away. “I never said it was the Valar who let me free. Or that it was unconditional. Or easy.”

“I think the term you wanted to use isn't ‘freedom’ then, but ‘probation’. So, there is a condition…?”

He didn't reply. 

What could it be? Something to do with Maglor. What did he need her help for? Convincing Maglor to something? They already worked together. Or maybe he was planning a coup, after all.

Walking along the road helped Sarnel think, but she knew too little.

He had seemed genuinely concerned back in the museum. But that sob story about a dead kid didn’t fit all that supernatural scheme. She shook her head. What was his whole game?

“Fine,” he said with a sigh, “I’d have to tell you at some point anyway. I need everyone within Ea to forgive me. That's why I need to talk to the Valar, obviously they're the best start.”

Sarnel blinked. That didn't seem like a possible goal, but the whole situation wasn't possible either, so maybe it fit well together. “And Maglor? Why do you work with him?”

“He’s a hard case, but I convinced him to promise me he will forgive me if I take him to Valinor. That might work.”

“You’ll have to convince me too. This will take work. But as long as you don’t lie to me again, let’s say you’ve regained a bit of my trust. And as long as you don’t try to scare my sister again.”

He grimaced, but didn’t reply.

“Oh, and what was that story about dead kids?”

Melkor gave her something between a crooked smile and a snarl. “You’re a very insightful mortal, you can guess. It wasn’t a lie. Just… a translation to your cultural context.”

They walked in silence for a while, but Sarnel hadn’t felt so much pressure put on her knowledge of mythology since she got her degree. Smart, dead, neat tricks with jewelry… Feanor obviously. Maglor’s father. If Maglor had heard that conversation… The whole thing about him being Maglor needed more thought later, Sarnel reminded herself… But he should have been able to hear it, in the stories elves could hear a lot. And he did hear them talking about the stone from a distance. 

It all didn’t ring right. In the museum, he made some odd word choices: Neat, pretty, little… Wasn’t Melkor supposed to hate Feanor, or was it just the other way around?

Her heart beat fast, she almost had the answer, it was barely outside her grasp. 

‘We could have been so beautiful.’ Who were ‘we’? The Valar? They were beautiful, allegedly. Until one of them stopped, so this part made sense. But who else did he include in this? Who would he see as kids? Elves, but…

‘We were so mighty.’ Yes, definitely something bigger than just elves. Maiar? But they didn’t die—

Neat, pretty, little, kid-like… Someone cute… Neat… Adorable…

Admirable.

All the pieces matched together.

She smiled. The day had been crazy, but at least she proved smart enough to challenge a demigod. 

Melkor smiled too. “Got it already? Not bad, assuming that you're correct. Well?”

So he really couldn't read her mind. Or simply was a good liar. Which he probably was.

“Sau— I guess you prefer that I call him Mairon, right?”

He nodded. “Such an admirable kid, full of tricks… I'm pretty sure that the stone— that he was trying to forge a Silmaril. Nobody else would have such a stupid, brilliant idea. And then he went and found a way to—” He shook his head.

Stupid brilliant ideas. Like, torturing and slaughtering countless people, if any of the sources were to be believed. And waging war against the very creators of the world. If any of those was, hypothetically, true. Only hypothetically.

“What's twenty-one times thirty-seven?”

What?  “Six hundred… one hundred and forty…” Rainel blinked and her vision cleared. Nallamo sat beside her, his arm tight around the blanket on her arms. The car was nearby.

“Why do you need that anyway?”

“I don't need the result,” he said in a warm voice. “I needed something to help you stop panicking and to make sure that your head is working properly.”

Something on her forehead peeked into her vision, it was soft pink and stained with red. Her extra car towel? She put her hand to it. Definitely her car towel.“It's meant for oil, not for blood.”

“It was clean. Do you feel better?”

“Yes, I—” Rainel blinked again. “What just happened?”

Nallamo spoke slowly, calmly. “You swerved the car and hit your head, because someone chose the worst possible moment to reveal his identity. But you are safe now. I won't let him hurt you. Any of you two.”

Rainel turned to the side and looked at him. “Who are you? How did you force him to go away?”

He smiled. “It wasn't anything mighty. I told him he'd made the situation bad enough and I'll handle it. And that you needed peace.

“Morgoth had lost nearly all of his power. And he's desperate to be able to talk to the Valar. He's pretending that he's changed his ways, as if anyone would fall for that again. But he is behaving reasonably at the moment. He won't hurt you. I won’t let him.”

“Sarnel—”

“Your sister is fine, she's giving him a very intense, though hopeless, lecture on common sense. Sarnel likes to have something to do, doesn't she? But she's a good kid. She loves you deeply.”

Those two in question walked along the road and indeed it looked like an argument, not like— not like anything worse. Rainel swallowed. “Nadir…  he really is who he said, isn't he?”

“Yes. He fell from the sky right in front of me. I wish I had been more brave back then, but I just—” Nallamo bowed his head. “I was so tired, and I was glad that the world was finally ending. I assumed it was, of course. And so we started talking, and ended up with this strange cooperation. Morgoth learning that the world isn’t flat anymore was quite a satisfying moment.”

Rainel’s throat tightened. “But the world is ending, isn’t it? He has returned.”

“I’m afraid the end won’t be this quick. He doesn’t seem to want to fight anyone, he’s too cowardly for that, and too weak. Later, when they deal with him… Maybe. Maybe then it will finally end. Maybe it will last long enough not to bother you two. I hope so.”

“How do we kill him?”

Nallamo laughted and let go of the hug, moving to look her straight in the face. “Kill Morgoth. I didn't expect you to be this brave, child. But don’t try yet, even now he is still too strong for you. All we need to do is get him to Valinor, where he will be dealt with. If he becomes a threat before we get there, I'm the one to handle the situation.”

Rainel leaned towards him and he put his arm around her again. “You're safe. I will keep you safe. It's all right.”

She sat quiet for a while, letting any remainders of her terror dissipate. And as more of her reason returned, she realized something.

“You aren't human either, are you?”

Nallamo’s arm around her stiffened. “I will take care of you two and keep you safe, even though I'm a terrible person otherwise. I do have experience with kids, and they turned out well. Really well.”

Kids? Right, he must have been older than he seemed. Was he an elf? Rainel’s heart sped up again. Elves were powerful. It increased their chance against Morgoth greatly. Elves were kind. And he was fair-looking, and tall.

Elves were also supposed to be long gone. 

“Why did you stay?”

His hug stiffened again for a moment. “Because I can't go,” he said quietly. “I've tried. Maybe this way…”

Why wouldn't he be able to go? The sudden realization hit her. “Oh. I'm so sorry for you, so sorry…” She hugged Nallamo  back.

“I don't deserve your pity. You don't know—”

She looked him in the eyes.

“You are Maglor, the son of Feanor. And I shall take you back home. You do deserve this, no matter what you did.”

She had never thought she'd see an elf at the verge of tears.

“Are you sure it’s safe to ride?” asked Sarnel.

Rainel closed the car hood. “The engine is fine. I’ll need to replace part of the bumper and straighten up its surroundings a bit, but that’s all. It’s better than my head, and my head isn’t very bad either.”

She looked slightly pale, even in the warm light of the setting sun, and there still was a bloody cloth on her forehead, but she stood firmly and talked in a logical way.

“All right,” said Sarnel, opening the driver’s door. “You sit in the front, and guys in the back.”

They’re just guys. Don’t think too much. Focus on the moment, on the car. 

“Are you sure you can drive?” asked Maglor.

“Rainel can’t, not in this state. You hate cars. And I’m not letting him drive either.”

The other guy, sitting on the roadside, of course argued with her: “Why? Because I said something at the wrong moment? Because—?”

“Because,” said Sarnel, standing with the door still open, “according both to direct observations and to historical sources, you have the impulse control of a hungry five-year old. And I’m not having my car crashed again.”

“I have better impulse control than her,” he said, gesturing at the younger woman, who was now cleaning her hands after checking the engine.

“Rainel made parts of the car herself, she has the right to drive it.”

“And I made fire—”

“I won't have my car on fire—”

“I can drive this thing,” said Maglor, calmly but loud enough to end their conversation. “I don’t like it, but soon it'll be too dark for you. You girls can sit in the back and get some sleep.”

They got in the car and soon Sarnel was dozing off in the roaring darkness. Elves, gods, demons, mysterious artifacts, maps— the black sword. So that was why he needed it. She smiled. It would be good to have some safety measures. Hypothetically.

[inapat17]

THE AUSTRALIAN NEW WAVE 2/4 : LONG WEEKEND (1978) DIRECTED BY COLIN EGGLESTON.

This is the second article of a series dedicated to the Australian new wave films of the 1970s. We are going to deal with a long invisible and relatively unknown movie entitled Long Weekend which was released in Australia in 1978. This movie may belong to what is commonly called « ozploitation », often considered a smaller wave within the new wave, covering a wide range of genres from sexploitation, biker films, horror and even martial arts. The creation in 1971 of a system for classifying films by age, with the inclusion of an R category for those forbidden to minors, gave filmmakers the opportunity to tackle all subjects without restraint. Young Directors have also explored Australia's abundant and wild nature, particularly in the Outback (an inland and vast area remote from large centres of population).

Long Weekend follows a city couple in crisis (on the verge of divorce), Peter and Marcia, who decide to go camping in an isolated area, near a large beach. Their hope is that this little trip will pick up the pieces. However, things don't go according to plan. Despite the calm and beauty of the surroundings, tensions persist, while the wilderness camping turns out to be less pleasant than expected, not helped either by the city dwellers' lack of respect for nature… Peter hits a kangaroo on the road by mistake, knocks down a tree for no reason at all, and kills a marine mammal… As a consequence, nature takes its revenge and becomes increasingly hostile. In the first place, the couple hears terrifying animal cries. Then, a menacing shadow looms over Peter as he goes for a swim in the creek. Next, the film becomes more violent : an attack by a female eagle after the couple unwittingly stole an egg from its nest… Eventually bugs, spiders, snakes and other forest animals make their presence known. At the same time, we understand gradually the sources of tension in the couple: Marcia has just undergone an abortion and there is sexual frustration between them.

There are no spectacular terror effects nor much dialogue. It is rather a psychological horror film: the terror comes in fact from the characters themselves. Eggleston plays with ambiguity. The menacing nature can be viewed as a reflection of their dissolving couple. The film also has a clear ecological dimension: like Peter Weir's The Last Wave, it’s an ecological apocalypse.

The director Colin Eggleston described his film as a cross between Godard's Weekend and Hitchcock's The Birds. The film won an award at the 1979 Avoriaz International Fantastic Film Festival. Director Colin Eggleston is most famous for Long Weekend and retired from cinema at the end of the 1980s. When the film was released in France in 1980, a French critic of Le Canard enchaîné concluded his review in an ironic way : « Environmentalists should take a trip to Australia: nature is atrocious there ».

Romain Dupeyras

[car-hamro]

HOW DOES DRIFTING A CAR WORK?

Over time, drifting has fascinated motorsport in the global context with a massive range fanbase. Well, it is known as the fastest-growing car driving technique. Yes, this technique never gets old, and everyone keeps returning for more of it.

Thanks to its elegance and heart-throbbing experience, we get every moment to savor from. Hence, it is fair to say that drifting is an art; when a professional does it, it is indeed full of appreciation.

As astounding as it sounds, how do you think drifting is done? It’s all about physics and a balance between car, driver, and road. In simple words, drifting is done by the driver when they purposely oversteer and cause the rear tires to lose grip on the road.

THE SCIENCE OF DRIFTING

We have always searched for thrills and adventure. Not to mention, drifting is our way of squeezing thrill into driving. For those unknowns, drifting is caused all through the tires when it is made to lose traction.

Here, the driver intentionally oversteers which causes the tires to lose traction, which will be hard for the driver to control. However, the driver must maintain control of the car while entering and exiting a turn. In technical terms, drifting occurs when the rear slip angle exceeds the front slip angle.

But moving on, you will meet a dangerous end if you can not maneuver the car while turning. While riding, make sure to rotate the steering wheel in the desired direction, which is when friction acts as an integral force.

Without the integral force of friction, drifting or any of this wouldn’t work as nothing would bind them to the road. While floating, the centripetal force is a significant reason that pulls your car in a circular motion.

HOW TO DRIFT A CAR?

Drifting a car is about not losing complete control of the wheels of your vehicle while you lose traction when you make a turn too fast and cause the rear tires to lose their grip on the road, the tires over-rotate in the direction of the turn.

As a result, your car spins, and to control the over-rotation; you have to turn the front tires in the opposite direction of the turn. Altogether, you can balance the traction by balancing the wheel speed.

So, does drifting look easy? Well, it’s easy explaining rather than doing it! If not controlled properly, you will have an uncontrolled spin, leading to terrible accidents.

In addition, the art of drifting to master is to invest yourself in a great deal of practice. This is why trained professionals carry out all drifting events under strictly controlled conditions.

Select a car and practice spot

Drifting is often more accessible with a manual transmission car as they have a clutch pedal and a gear shift rather than automatic cars. This extra control enables you to set the correct speed and angle. As in automated vehicles, you can drift by using handbrakes.

Also, if you are looking forward to practicing drifting, do it away from traffic, busy roads, near buildings, or anywhere else you might hit something.

A CAR WITH A REAR-WHEEL DRIVE

Rear-wheel drive cars are controllable with the engine, while the other engine controls the front wheels or all 4 wheels. While drifting, the rear wheel is crucial, and the cars with their presence are much easier to manage.

For More Details Click Here

[lucybuttriver]

ID: This is a drawn map of a fantasy world. It centers on the Kingdom called Skyland. To the left of the kingdom is a mountain range called The Nooks. To the right of the kingdom, there's a forest called the Nation of Five Hills. Skyland itself is mostly made up of farmland and cities or towns with a few small forests. The towns are connected with roads. To the north of the land is the Misty Ocean and to the south is the Surging Abyss (also ocean). The entire map is crossed through with rivers flowing from the hills or mountains into the oceans. Yellow stars which represent portals are focussed in the cities with some more spread over the map.

So first of all, this map is incredibly biased (on purpose). You need to keep that in mind as I explain more about this world. Also the whole TwoWorlds name is kind of a misleading placeholder name (on purpose). So I can be like: but wait there’s more! at the end of the adventure.

So this is a map of Skyland, one of the two worlds I’m planning for this setting. These worlds, Skyland and Underground, are two planes of existences which are connected to each other by portals. On the Skyland side of things, they kinda look like a well, that is hooked into the ground, like a grappling hook with a square well made of light in the cross of it. On the Underground side of things, they’re huge pillars reaching into the sky seemingly infinitely with four doorways made of light.

This whole pillars reaching into the sky thing is where these worlds got their names from. Because from the Underground it seems like you go “up” into Skyland and from Skyland you go “down” into Underground. To make it extremely clear: Underground doesn’t look like a cave, it has a normal sky and weather. People have tried climbing up the pillars, and they just keep going and going. There’s no ceiling and no way to reach Skyland that way. On the Skyland side of things, people have tried digging down and under the portals, but there’s a pillar going down too under the ground.

The portals can transport 4 people or animals at a time, every x amount of time. Currently I think x is an hour. People step in and get out at the four cardinal directions. In places with multiple portals close by, the portals are mostly used in one direction only. In places with only one portal, the direction is usually alternated. Animals who are tied to a person, like a familiar, are able to go with their person simultaneously.

Bags of holding are extensively used to transport items through the portals, and bags of holding have been improved so they cannot be destroyed from the inside by sharp things (mostly because I can’t be bothered by that aspect of the bags complicating things). They can also be more easily crafted by specialists and are commonly on sale nearby portals (sometimes at “fell off a truck” prices). This makes it relatively cheap to transport items, as long as said items fit in a bag of holding.

In contrast, tickets for people going through the portals are prohibitively expensive in most places. Most regular people never get the chance to visit the other world.

Now back to what I said in the beginning. This map is biased. It is focused on the Kingdom of Skyland. This is a Human majority kingdom. The ruling King is Human, the elite are mostly Humans, and so on. This map was made as if a cartographer in Skyland made it. Therefore, other regions of the map are relatively unknown and unnamed and may be missing portals.

Another super secret not known by the map maker, or most people in Skyland, is that the world is looping. Like Pacman. You exit the map west, you enter the map east. You exit the map north, you enter the map south. If you told people in Skyland that, they’d laugh at you. Like people laughed at Galileo when he said the world is round. Ironically, these worlds are indeed flat.

Like a stack of paper, layers upon each other. So how did these portals come into existence? In ancient times, in the Underground, long before it was called that, a great nation was going through a crisis. They were a desert nation. There was a dry season so bad, people were running out of water fast, and crops were dying. The eight strongest mages in the nation came together and collaborated. They linked up and the four on the cardinal directions cast a Circle of teleportation and the four in between the others cast Wish, all desperately hoping to teleport to a place that could help somehow.

A pillar shot up into the sky and seemed to pierce the heavens. Doors of light appeared before the four cardinal direction mages. They looked at each other, before one of them went into the door. She disappeared. The colour of the door changed from a soothing magical purple to a poisonous warning green. An hour went by. The colour changed back to purple. Fifteen more minutes went by. Suddenly, the mage reappeared and the colour changed again to green. She enthused to her colleagues about the green soft grass she saw, and the seemingly endless water. The trees with countless bright green leaves and the plethora of animals. An hour went by and the colour changed again. This time four mages went, and this time they took all available bags of holding with them, and they filled them up with water and their nation was saved.

So where did these mages breach first? That is the portal on the south bank of the Goblet lake, where they started what would later become the capital city of Skyland, named Goldspire (hint: it’s the really big city). Goldspire’s nickname is the City of Pillars. The mages ended up making a bunch more portals all around their nation, as well as some in neighbouring nations, at a price of course. They also recorded what happened as well as the ritual to create more portals and locked those scrolls up tightly and safely, somewhere (probably on Black Island, which is the first island going north from Skyland).

Okay so I’ve mentioned the cardinal directions a few times now and maybe you’re wondering, if the world is a stack of papers, how does it have a magnetic field?!?!?! Because I wondered that myself, I figured they don’t have a magnetic field, but a maginetic field. It’s a magnetic field but magic.

So with the portal spell recorded and possibly recoverable and usable, it’s possible to turn the known universe from two worlds to three worlds or more. I have vague ideas about a tropical world to expand it.

Now, back to the bias inherent in the map. To the east of Skyland lies the Elven Nation of Five Hills. Their nation doesn’t have cities like the humans have cities, but they do have a more concentrated population around the hills and the portals.

The Elves consider the entire wild forest their territory, though they consider the Halflings living in it their own state. The Halflings live mostly in the north part of the wild forest, near the lake. The Halflings have luckily had relatively little contact with Skyland, though they’ve heard plenty of stories. In Skyland, it is considered very unlucky to harm Halflings. This might be a lingering effect of the Elves defensiveness over them.

The Elves patrol their border with the Humans in case of attacks by Skyland’s armies. The Elves also keep an eye out at the edge with the Plains of Blood, but the Orks living there don’t dare step into Elven forest. They have an effective truce with the Dwarves in The Nooks since neither of them desires the other’s territory. They even have a steady trade set up, unknown to any Humans.

The Nooks, and the Dwarves who live there are fairly unknown to the Humans themselves. Yes, there’s some trade between the Humans and the Dwarves, but the Humans do not understand them, and they understand the humans all too well. They don’t forget their history that easily. (Dwarves get a +2 bonus to knowledge(history) and can use the skill without training). There are many a story and rumour about the Dwarves and The Nooks. Rumours like if you travel into The Nooks, you’ll never return.

The Plains of Blood are so named because that is where the Orks mostly live. But it is unclear whether they are named for the Orks slaughtered by Humans or the Humans killed by Orks. Nowadays, they mostly avoid the other races, unless they enter Ork territory. They’re self sufficient anyway, since they focused on sailing and fishing. The only real contact they have is a trade route to the City of Tears, where they can buy materials and tools that they cannot farm.

The City of Tears, with their unique slogan: “Where the skies always cry”, is a city state with a very mixed populations. It’s one of the few places where really any race is welcome, as long as they don’t start shit. They have a democratic council of eleven member with a limit where no single race may have a majority. (People of a mixed race count for both for this law.) The City of Tears have extensive trade through their single portal with the city state on the other side.

The City of Tears does have some trade with Rosecliff, the nearest Skyland kingdom, but this is discouraged by the Skyland King, because quite a few people end up moving to the City of Tears. The City of Tears disdains Skyland and its elite.

Wilderest is the city state on the coast in the Plains of Blood. It’s a mixed city with a large proportion of deserters from Skyland. There’s also a large minority of Half-Orks. It’s a very volatile place with cultures clashing, and racism from many ex-Skylanders towards the Half-Orks. Fights break out often, but overall there’s a tenuous and tense balance. They trade with Skyland, mostly through smugglers only as Skyland disapproves both of deserters and Orks.

I mentioned Black Island as the likely place for the scroll with the history and instructions of the portals. It’ll have some sort of dungeon or fortress, probably underground in a cave or something.

The island north west of it is called the Ilse of Dome. Scholars debate whether the name was meant to be Dome or whether someone at some point misspelled the name while transcribing and it was originally Doom. On this island live two demons (probably demons), so the island has a bad name figuratively, even if people don’t remember why they should avoid it.

The demons are mostly self sufficient (very queer) couple living together, making what they need themselves. If adventurers visit the island and they don’t immediately attack the demons, the demons are willing to trade. They can always use metals so they can make tools and components, whether in bar form, or recyclable weapons or armour. In return, they’re willing to make custom weapons or armour or other items, depending on what the adventurers desire.

The demons are willing to trade, rather than just murder and steal, because they entice people to return with more metals. They value a potential continuing trade more, than one bigger haul. (and really, they can’t be bothered killing people, it’s so much effort to clean all that blood out of the handmade carpets, you know?)

Shenach Refuge is the island north of the City of Tears. There’s a wizard tower there. Every person who sees it, gives a different description of how the tower and island looks afterwards. The only thing everyone agrees on is that it is a wizard tower specifically. Some people also claim to have seen the wizard, but again, the description is always different.

Ships that try to steer straight at it are gently pushed around the island. So are people who try to swim towards it. Nowadays most sailors avoid it by choice. If asked, they say: “When the sea says don’t go there, you don’t go there”. They say following that rule keeps you alive on the sea.

The actual wizard is one of the original portal casters, hermit-ing away in his tower, studying magic and grumping at the world and how people ruined it. The reason why his tower is always specifically described as a wizard tower by those who see it is because he is trans and was tired of people calling it a witch tower so he laid a spell over it to put the words “wizard tower” in their minds.

The wizard is another avenue to learn of the history and portal making since he lived it obviously, but the adventurers would have to be 1: able to get to the island (which even I don’t know how yet), 2: be very convincing, and 3: overthrow a corrupted dictatorship or two first.

You might be confused after point 3 above here, but that’s basically what I consider the main quest for this world. Overthrow Skyland’s King and Underground’s puppet government. Like the wizard has an actual point with his grumping at the world, even though he’s a bit of an asshole for not doing anything about it. So if the world gets fixed and democratised he’ll be a lot more willing to give out the portal spell. Because he has some trust that people won’t ruin another plane of existence.

The wizard could possibly also be a great ally in overthrowing the King too, should an adventurer party be able to reach and convince him. That would also make it more likely for him to give out the spell afterwards, if he got to know the adventurers.

Basically what I will encourage my adventurers to do is to unite the worlds against Skyland, overthrow their military and King with the help of all allies. So there’s going to be quests to gather the Elves, Dwarves, Orks, the different city states, all the places and peoples in the Underground too. Staging points would be the Plains and the Elves’ Hills.

Ships could be used to overtake the military fortresses on the island in Wondering Bay and Southpoint (the south east point of the land). Once Southpoint is taken, the portals there can be used to receive reinforcements to take on Goldspire. With sufficient allies, the Skyland military will be overrun, never expecting their enemies to be so bold as to actually invade them.

At this point, I’m remembering that I used “mages” earlier in this. While the main magic classes are sorcerer and wizard, both are mages. Some people also consider clerics, druids, bards, basically anyone who can cast the simplest cantrip to be mages and some purists consider mages to only be sorcerers and wizards.

Most people are somewhere in the middle on that, but mage(s) as a term is used a lot in this world. One reason for it, besides sheer convenience, is that sorcerers are looked down upon in Skyland, and wizards are looked down upon in Underground.

Therefore, it became normalised for both wizards and sorcerers to claim to be mages regardless of where they were to avoid the discrimination. Good clerics and any dedicated to magic generally also claim to be mages in solidarity. So do bards, especially since lots of songs are about great wizards or sorcerers.

One practise that’s consistent everywhere throughout the worlds (even the undiscovered and undefined ones) is that temples always have a second hand shop combined with an apothecary attached to it. This shop can be small or big, and sell different things based on the god they’re attached to. Most will not accept stolen goods, with obvious exceptions for the thief and evil gods.

Most of them are willing to pay for decent quality and clean goods, but they prefer donations. Donations and especially big ones will give you social favour with the people in town, and even more so with people dedicated to that god. People can also trade their used goods for things in the shop itself, or for the health potions that most clerics sell.

These shops may also sell more new goods besides medicine, depending on the god. Warrior god temples might sell knives or something for example. Or the temple shop of the Elf god might sell Elven poetry. They’re also a good source of scrap metal (to bring to the Ilse of Dome for example), because not everything they get is good enough quality to sell. So the discount bin is a great place to look for cheap scrap or reparable items.

The last thing I have for you is the general outline of how we got from mages make portals to the current situation. As said, the mages made the portals and went places and made more portals. After about a decade, the first of them died and they mostly split apart. One of them hid the scroll on Black Island and locked herself inside of the vault. One build his wizard tower. Most of them died.

In the years, humans spread out, settled towns around the portals, warred with each other, warred with their neighbours, forgot their own history. In the Underground, people lived and traded and created and stayed true to their peace loving roots, but they too forgot a lot of their history.

In Skyland before it was Skyland, lived a rich man. This man got rich of the trade with Underground (read: scamming other people), but he wanted more and more. He hired mercenaries and intimidated his competitors. Then the more stubborn ones died under mysterious circumstances. Before anyone realised, he was the most powerful and richest man in the city and he had his own private army.

He build himself a magnificent and rich looking palace. Its most prominent feature was a huge golden spire for which the capital of Skyland is still named. It also inspired a great deal of lewd jokes amongst the commoners, one of which is still generally known: “What do you do if you can’t satisfy your wife? You get a golden spire.”

This man is considered by Skyland propaganda to be Skyland’s father. This man terrorised the city he took over, but his son wasn’t satisfied with one measly city. He took the army and riches he inherited from his father and took over all human cities within Skyland by force and installed himself as the King of it all, the United Human Kingdom of Skyland. That’s still the kingdom’s super formal official name, but most people just call it Skyland, even if that’s confusing.

But this man, the first King, wasn’t satisfied. He now had control over a great many portals and a great many people with swords and bows and other weapons. And he knew that the people living in the Underground were peace loving. And he saw opportunity.

He sent his most trusted officers and troops ahead, incognito, until he had enough people in place to turn it into an easy victory. He also spun a bunch of propaganda that Undergrounders were crooks and scammers. He claimed they would steal from honest Skylanders. He claimed more and more wicked things to demonise the Undergrounders. And it worked.

The King took over Underground and the people of Skyland celebrated in the streets. Many Undergrounders were send to prison mines and work camps, to mine and create luxury goods for rich Skylanders. It became fashionable for the Elite to hire Undergrounders as staff. They are paid, but they’re not treated well.

Basically just assume a whole load of atrocities happened and are happening and you’re right.

[wallnahas]

Seenaa Rasulullah Saw Pdf

The Taiyabi and Dawoodi Bohra Isma'ili sects also believe in this tradition. The Arab geographer Mujir al-Din from Jerusalem, writing in the 1490s, admits that the tradition has only a weak chance of authenticity, but that Nabi Musa still is the most popular among several sites with similar claims. In any case, tradition holds that the spot where the shrine now stands was shown to Saladin in a dream, which prompted him to built a mosque at the site, later expanded by Baibars. Kupferschmidt, it appears to have become a fixed point in the local Muslim calendar from the time of Saladin. Murphy-O'Connor considers that gradually, the lookout point for Moses' distant gravesite beyond the Jordan was confused with Moses' tomb itself, laying the ground for the cultic importance Nabi Musa was to acquire in the Sunni Arab reverence of saints ( walis). It seems that by the time when Mamluk sultan Baibars visited the site in 1269 while returning from his hajj, "there must have been some association", since he set about building an extensive shrine. Originally, it was simply a point from which pilgrims could rest, look across the Jordan Valley, catch a glimpse of Mount Nebo where (as suggested by the Hebrew Bible) the tomb of Moses used to be, and worship it from this spot. The site where the shrine stands since the 13th century is located at what would be have marked the end of the first day's march in that direction. The Jerusalem-Jericho road was one of the primary routes used by Mediterranean Arabs to make a pilgrimage to Mecca. It is not known when this tradition has first emerged. However, local Muslim tradition places the "Tomb of Moses" at the maqam (Muslim shrine) of Nabi Musa ("Prophet Moses"). In Islam, Moses' burial place is also considered to be unknown. " Allah's Messenger, peace and blessings be upon him, said, "If I were there, I would show you his grave below the red sand hill on the side of the road."" Tradition and scholarly theories "let him die close to the Sacred land so much so that he would be at a distance of a stone's throw from it." In Islam however, in a hadith narrated by Abu Hurairah (603–681), when Moses chooses the time of his death, he asks Allah to The biblical book of Deuteronomy records that Moses "was buried in a valley in the land of Moab, opposite Beth-peor" (east of the Jordan River) and that "no one knows the place of his burial to this day" ( Deut 34:6). The maqam of Nabi Musa Death and burial of Moses in Islam 113 km² south of Jericho, in which 66 Palestinian households were counted in 2007, a population defined in 2012 as "nomads". The Palestinian locality of Nabi Musa is defined as an administrative area of c. A great building with multiple domes marks the mausoleum of Moses. Considered in the political context of 1920 as "the most important Muslim pilgrimage in Palestine", the festival centered on a collective pilgrimage from Jerusalem to what was understood to be the Tomb of Moses, near Jericho. It is also the name of a seven-day long religious festival that was celebrated annually by Palestinian Muslims, beginning on the Friday before Good Friday in the Orthodox calendar used by the Greek Orthodox Church of Jerusalem. Nabi Musa ( Arabic: ٱلنَّبِي مُوْسَى, romanized: An-Nabī Mūsā, meaning "The Prophet Moses", also transliterated as Nebi Musa) is a mosque and a Palestinian locality in the Jericho Governorate of Palestine, in the West Bank, believed to contain the tomb of Moses ( Musa, in Islam) according to tradition.