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cheese-water · 1 year

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Alright, here we go.

Under the cut is the message I sent to YouTube about how the company handles flagging deemed “age restricted content” and the lack of transparency and communication given to content creators. Specifically, how they’ve treated RTGame. I am in no ways a expert and would not liked to be posed as such. I am simply someone exercising their thoughts and opinions on the matter and very aware of the slim likelihood of YouTube reading my feedback, let alone causing change. All I’m doing is sharing my emotions after three and a half hours of writing. And 1600 words later, it was sent.

TW: slight mentions of themes described in YouTube’s Age Restricted Filter (ie Gore, Predatory Behavior, Minors in sexual situations, etc.); hopelessness; slight derealization

Please enjoy my reaction.

Based on what has happened with RTGame, Daniel, and many other YouTubers, the rules and guidelines listed here do not fully encompass what YouTube considers "age-restricted content." I know for a fact that, through my own and others' experiences watching Daniel’s videos, he and the content he produces all fit within the guidelines listed out: nothing harmful or meant for adults that minors could easily imitate; not presenting 18+ content in a way that appeals and could be confused as children’s content; no harmful, realistic pranks that might be construed as real; no invitations to perform inappropriate, sexual dancing, fondling, or groping; nothing that contains provocative clothing or poses to arouse viewers; no images or videos of detailed, violent gore, such as injuries sustained from a car accident, as the central theme in videos; no overuse of profanities and vulgar language found in video titles, thumbnails, and the content itself, and not a single video where the content is simply swears and other profanity out of context.

I am fully aware that this does not fully encompass the policies you have set, but after thoroughly reading the guidelines found in the link, I’ve concluded that my point still stands by exemplifying his complicity with the themes displayed on the main page. This is unacceptable on your part. Why do I have to list out what a ludicrous decision it is to limit and age-restrict at least 12 of Daniel’s videos in the past 48 hours? Why, after repeated requests for contact and appeal, is Dan sent the exact same manual review response stating that a 3-hour video was in fact "not advertiser friendly" after receiving the request 10 minutes earlier? Why is this continuing to be a problem on YouTube? At this point, it’s just disappointing to see a site supposedly "built for creators" have their entire livelihoods ruined because of reasons they weren’t told about or weren't able to fix. In the last paragraph, "Check if your content is age-restricted," you state, "Our systems are constantly being updated, and if we find any discrepancies with your rating, there’s a chance it could change." Now why are YouTubers, who have managers in contact with them or even work at YouTube, only finding out about these changes after they have been stricken? Wouldn’t it make more sense for you, the company in charge, to communicate with creators about this fluctuating filter in order for them to avoid creating said "age-restricted content?" Most creators on the platform, including Daniel, do not want to advertise cannabis dispensaries or expose their viewers to gory imagery. I am able to say that with such conviction because of the amount of distress those YouTubers feel when they face an age restriction on a supposedly safe video. No one benefits, not the creators, the viewers, or even YouTube itself, when a video is flagged as 18+ without any warning, context, or possible reconsideration with your current way of operating.

Now, at this point, I could speculate that YouTube does indeed benefit from this due to the vague phrasing and information about the "constantly updated filter" in your systems, allowing you to excuse undeserved content being flagged under the guise of "newly added guidelines" and allowing you to keep all revenue generated from said video and not split it with the creator. However, that’s just baseless speculation from someone who has never experienced demonetization or age-restriction personally, and something I don’t believe. I am one for facts, not groundless conjecture, so instead, I’ll tell you two reasons why YouTube will not benefit from this lack of transparency with creators and how it’s on the road to failure.

As mentioned previously, I frequently watch and enjoy the content produced by Daniel, also known as RTGame, a full-time content creator. While for some reason he has been seemingly targeted with your way of age-restricting inappropriate content, including multiple past and oddly privatized videos on his channel, that is not why I bring up Dan once again. No, I would like to inform you of something he said merely a few months ago about YouTube. While this is purely verbatim, I have faith in YouTube’s team to find this quote in one of his videos on his channels if you don’t trust me, Daniel states his frustration and disappointment with Amazon, specifically Twitch’s handling of the payment split between Amazon and streamers and the change including the members of the Twitch Partner Program. I specifically recall Dan going as far as to say that if this was the direction Twitch would continue to head in, including streamers being forced to run advertisements in the middle of their streams, he was likely to leave the platform and join YouTube Gaming. He said that even after facing unwarranted 18+ flags on his content the year prior. To be more specific, exactly the year prior regarding the age restriction of "Best of 2021." How about that? I can’t speak for Daniel or anyone else who is facing this situation, but I can tell you objectively that when a direct competitor’s successful employee starts to grow tired and irritated at the competitor’s management and publicly states the likelihood of them moving to you, you better work your hardest to stay on their good side. Have you already fractured your chance with not only Daniel but many streamers on different platforms due to your public negligence and utter disregard for this man’s creations and, most importantly, livelihood? I don’t know. It all seems to depend on what you do next. You did this to yourself.

Now, why did I do this? Why have I gone and spent my time and effort illustrating my thoughts about restricted content while defending a man and a community to which I’m simply a stranger? Why have YouTube's actions, your actions, fueled me to type all this out, begging that there’s someone human on the other side of the computer breathing, reading out my thoughts instead of being sent to a spam filter, screaming out my lungs into this void, half of me knowing that this was a waste of time but the other half grasping on this false hope that by sending this, something, anything, will change? Why put myself through this? Because of the second reason:

Myself.

…or at least what I represent in the grand scheme of YouTube.

I, for all my life, wanted to be a YouTuber when I grew up. Nothing else—as much as I knew it was a slim possibility—was where I felt most comfortable (literally, I’m wearing YouTuber merch right now). I dreamed of the content I could create, the people I would meet, and, most importantly, my impact on others. That’s what drives me as a person—not money, fame, or even meeting my idols—the ability to change someone’s life for the better just through my passion. All of my life, I knew what I wanted to do; all I needed were the materials to create it. And after so long, I have them. Not just the material items, but the time, motivation, and mental health—everything I needed to hopefully be the force of creativity and positivity in others' lives that the content creators I watch are in mine. I was hoping to actually post in the next two weeks, with the beginning of 2023 and everything.

Then this happened.

Again and again and again and again and again and ag-

I could say that I’m not starting my channel out of protest, that it’s simply because you don’t deserve my creations until you respect others, and that it's purely to not lose potential monetary gains I would make based on what happened to others. I wish it were as simple as saying that this was the final straw, and I will never create videos for YouTube.

But while all are partially true, I am someone who values the facts. And truth be told, I’m scared.

Not only for what YouTube as a platform will become if mass, unjustified censorship of video becomes the norm, but also because I know what it feels like to have poured effort and passion into something and eventually getting the courage to allow the world to it, only for the rug to be pulled out from underneath you for reasons that are not unfamiliar yet go unexplained. I am scared that the minute I think I’m comfortable with being a YouTuber, I’ll get age-restricted, either wrongly or accidentally, and all I can do is sit and watch as my creations, born out of my want to inspire others like myself, are deemed unwatchable for little to no apparent reason, forever held hostage by the faceless god who gave me the tools I used to form them. So I’m not going to put myself in a position where I could get intensely hurt like others have. Not until that possibility is gone. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of people like me who want to build and hone their craft through YouTube, and the only obstacle in our way is the company itself. Why would we want to join a site that treats its most popular creators unfairly from an outside perspective?

Change, improve, or at least try to quell the disappointment festering in your user base.

Please?

If not for some stranger, at least for RTGame.

Please, YouTube?

Anyone?

I spent so long trying to reach you; YouTube really has made me who I am today. I don’t want to stand idly by while they sabotage their own creators through a lack of meaningful communication when I could have done something, anything.

Please.

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187days · 1 year

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Day Ninety-Eight

Today was “anything but a backpack” day, so I had students bring their school stuff in suitcases, laundry baskets, coolers, lockers, shopping carts borrowed from Walmart, a remote control car, etc, etc...

It was hilarious.

In World, I showed students some pictures of the bridges that have been or are being built in Nepal since they were so curious about whether or not that was happening. Some had even gone home and looked up more information on their own, and they shared that, which was very cool. And then we had a broader discussion about how development can help cultures overcome geographic difficulties- and other kinds of difficulties- but it has to be sustainable.

That was the segue to having them read the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals. We read the first one- no poverty- together, then I had them pick another goal to read on their own. Then I asked them to share what they’d read and learned with their classmates. That went really well, and even the boys in my Block 2 class, who still attempt to try my patience daily and grumble under their breath about how much they hate my class, told me it was interesting. So that’s a win. I wanted to end with an example of a country that’s made progress towards those goals, so I showed students some images of South Korea in 1960 versus today so they could get a sense of the economic development that’s taken place there over the past few decades. Then I had them read an annotate an article about how it’s happened. There were lots of comments about how rapid the country’s transformation has been. And the article touches on k-culture exports, so some talk about kpop, Squid Game, and such also ensued. That was fun.

My APGOV students had to tackle the evolution of federalism today. First, they shared what they’d learned about for homework: the 10th and 14th amendments, plus the rulings in several court cases (McCulloch v. Maryland, Gibbons v. Ogden, Heart of Atlanta Motel v. United States, United States v. Lopez, Obergefell v. Hodges, Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health). We discussed what each of those rulings meant for the balance of national and state power, and I went on a tangent about expansive commerce power so they could see how its relevant to their daily lives. And, lastly, we talked about how the growth of the bureaucracy has led to the literal expansion of the national government, but also the expansion of its power. I used the passage of the Pure Food and Drug Act and the creation of what would become to FDA to illustrate that point, and went on another tangent about how broadly the FDA’s authority now extends.

And, even after all that, there were still 20 minutes left in the block. My students were surprised that I didn’t just keep going to fill the time, but I reminded them that it’s a college-style course; when we’re done whatever we need to do for the day, we’re done. I added that when they’re actually in college their professors will just let them leave, which not all of them realized. But they like that, and they liked me giving them the free time today.

I used it to wrap up a few odds and ends so that I could leave right at the end of my contract day, too. I walked out with Mr. F and Ms. A, and, thankfully, it wasn’t too cold outside. Now, it’s really getting frigid out there; tomorrow the low is going to be -20! Eeeek!

#teachblr #teacher #teaching #edublr #educhums #education #social studies #high school #see the whole board #Mr. F #Ms. A #spirit week #so much fun #day ninety eight

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jacobgdavis-blog · 6 days

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RECAP OF TRIP TO FRANCE

Thursday, May 23 thru 29, 2024

(written on 5/29/24 on the plane ride back to the U.S.)

DAY 1 - Paris, May 24, 2024 (Jed’s 33rd birthday)

Five of our crew arrived in Paris early in the morning after a pretty breezy experience thru French customs. The OKC crew of my dad, Jed, and me connected thru Chicago while Ben and Grant connected thru Newark on the same flight with each other after originating from Virginia and Texas, respectively. Our two planes landed within an hour of each other at Charles de Gaulle Airport. We had a car transfer from the airport to our hotel, the Hotel Eiffel - Seine, which was in view-shot of the namesake tower and river. Danny was hilariously waiting for us in the lobby after having arrived in Paris 3 days prior with Kelsey after touring Spain for 3 weeks. He was dressed up as much like as a stereotypical Frenchman as he could muster, complete with a red beret, an open bottle of red wine, and a quarter-eaten baguette in a paper sleeve. We all had a laugh and enjoyed a much-too-early-in-the-morning Dixie cup full of the red wine from the bottle Danny was carrying, more for effect than for actual consumption at 8am.

We dropped off luggage and immediately headed out on foot and by Metro for the Arc de Triomphe, passing a flat lookout point with an excellent view of the Eiffel Tower, a spot that looked identical to the spot from a famous photo where Hitler stood after successfully invading France to little resistance in the 1940s. The Arc, built between 1806-1830 and originally commissioned by Napoleon, ended up being the perfect starting point for gathering our bearings in a foreign city. We climbed all 1K+ steps up a narrow, spiral staircase to the very top to see a 360° view of the City of Light at midday.

We grabbed lunch and afternoon beers at a sidewalk cafe just down the road from our hotel. We all had adrenalin pumping despite losing 7-hours to the timezone change moving eastward from the states so we pushed on and made the ambitious climb toward the Basilique de Sacre Coeur. We trudged up the endless steps to the very top where street vendors were hawking cold Heinekens straight out of the 12-bottle boxes to thirsty tourists not having realized how steep the hills and steps would be as the sun beat down (we didn’t fall for it), but our quadriceps were burning.

We popped into a bistro on for dinner on the way down, Grant and I splitting Jed’s tab on his 33rd, and were back near our hotel just in time for the daily 10pm light show from the Eiffel Tower when it sparkles for 5 straight minutes above the Siene. For those with kids (Ben, Jed, and me), we FaceTimed our fams so they could see the Eiffel Tower and the light show in the background. For those of us still going afterwards, we ended up at the same sidewalk cafe as we had eaten lunch and laughed well into the night.

I was so happy to finally be on this trip, on the ground in France. We had all been investing in this for the past 5 months. I was with my bros, my dad, my bro-in-law, and my uncle, who is like the older bro I never had. We are a close-knit fraternity of family that trusts each other and were able to have a good time from the beginning without any warming up. I was in a happy place and ready for everything I had planned still ahead of us. We covered so much ground on day 1 at such a fast but sustainable pace that I didn’t even know what all we’d end up doing the next day besides one scheduled evening bike tour.

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scoot-and-ride · 2 months

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Cruise in Style with the Highway Kick 1 Scooter

The Highway Kick Scooter 1 is the newest craze unfolding on the byways of all the states of the country. From a stylish look, thrilling performance, and a budget-friendly price, this model has everything needed to provide a state-of-the-art drive for the modern city commute. The revolutionary e-scooter is without any doubt becoming the transportation of the next generation.

Redefining City Mobility

The Highway Kick 1 represents the future of metropolitan transportation. As cities become more crowded, gas-guzzling cars continue exacerbating environmental issues. Meanwhile, public transportation still leaves something to be desired regarding convenience and flexibility for today's fast-paced lifestyle.

Enter the Highway Kick 1. This electric smart scooter lets you zip around congested urban roads and park anywhere easily. The compact frame, swift acceleration and nifty turning radius make navigating downtown traffic effortless. With typical ranges of around 20 miles on a single charge, the Kick 1 provides ample distance for running errands or commuting to work and back. The lightweight build makes carrying the 26-pound scooter a breeze when entering buildings. For eco-conscious city dwellers frustrated with the inefficiencies of cars and buses, the Kick 1 is a transport game-changer.

The Perfect Commuting Companion

From university students to young professionals, commuters across demographics are embracing e-scooters as the ideal mobility solution. The Highway Kick 1 specifically addresses modern commuting needs with key features including:

Foldable Frame: Folds up easily for storing under desks or carrying on public transportation. No bike racks are required!

Swift Acceleration: The 250W brushless DC motor propels 0 to 15 mph in only 3 seconds - perfect for those mad dashes when the bus is pulling away!

Smart Battery: The long-range 7.5AH Panasonic battery uses intelligent power-saving technology to maximize efficiency. No more battery anxiety on long rides.

Customizable Speed: Switch between two-speed modes to adhere to regulation or match your riding courage as skills progress.

LED Display: Integrated dash keeps tabs on current speed, battery level, mode and more through an intuitive interface.

Front & Rear Lights: Built-in LED lights provide visibility to others while also illuminating your path at night - critical for urban evening commutes.

With this unbeatable mix of portability, performance and smart features tailored for navigating congested cities, highway kick 1 scooter makes adopting two-wheeled transport simple.

Additionally, to the transportation difficulties solution, Highway Kick 1’s main function is to give the drivers a unique experience. The feeling of effortlessly gliding down the bike lanes and curving trails in the parks provides endorphin-boosting sensations that are very much like those that childhood joyrides impart to me. The feeling of enjoying the wind against your face as you carve through the smooth turns is far better than the peppy acceleration that pops you up while no one is looking. The intuitive throttle and handling make one comfortable to confront new limits, whether it is on a dusty road or in the swamp.

The Highway Kick 1’s 8.5-inch pneumatic tires are perfect for an uneven-pavement city. They are the ultimate comfort level when travelling around the city. Individual understanding of speed levels as well as the ability to adjust the gear to the environment are the two main components of e-bikes for beginners which allow for safe riding, especially in zones with crowds of pedestrians. It is ideal for those who are looking for the next level of difficulty as they reach up to 20mph in Sport mode!

Whether you are a beginner or a professional, highway kick 1 scooter will be your epic adventure partner, but it will also save the environment by giving you a sustainable alternative solution.

The Highwaykick 1 lifestyle

Being recognized on these chic scooters is becoming a symbol that you are definitely a part of the hip and thoughtful bunch that cares about the environment and smooth travel at the same time. The lean design and bright color choices allow riders to express themselves in a hot fashion as they bounce on the roads. By selecting the colors and patterns of the scooter and your riding gear that fit your personality you can make the scooter a part of your unique identity.

With the growing number of meet-up groups along Highway Kick 1 organized in urban areas, the scooter itself plays a part in sharing each other’s riding passion and participating in group rides. This group, which is expanding day by day, passes on its tips from the must-do tricks to the most popular city riding paths outside heavy car traffic. The group chats are open platforms where veterans happily welcome and encourage newcomers to share their ideas and get inspired by regular knowledge exchange.

These social gatherings also showcase just how easily

Highway Kick 1 promotes spontaneous fun through its grab-and-go flexibility. When a midday urges to enjoy the open road hits, just fold up the scooter kept conveniently under your desk and set off! No parking logistics or fuel requirements hamper the modern explorer’s wanderlust, thanks to Highway Kick 1’s simplicity.

Join the Revolution

The Highway Kick 1 kick-starts the e-mobility revolution through approachable innovation, solving real transportation pain points while connecting communities. As urban infrastructure continues prioritizing sustainability over cars, adopting e-scooters becomes integral for navigating future cities efficiently. The Highway Kick 1 offers the most smartly designed, convenient mobility solution available on the market today for smoothly transitioning towards this inevitable paradigm shift.

So be at the vanguard and take performance, practicality and fun into your own hands. Let the open road call as you cruise through town on the future of travel with the Highway Kick 1!

#highway kick 1 #highway kick 1 scooter #highwaykick 1 lifestyle

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dwrakaexpressway · 1 year

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New Adani Samsara Vilasa Gurgaon in Real State Products That Your Best Friends Would Appreciate

Adani Samsara Vilasa Gurgaon is a luxury residential project that offers spacious apartments with state-of-the-art facilities. The project has been designed by the experts who understand the value of time and effort in constructing a premium quality construction. It has been built using sustainable features like energy efficient windows, triple glazed doors, low maintenance paints etc. which ensure an eco-friendly environment for living in with minimum carbon footprint on the environment.

Spacious apartments

Spacious apartments are a great way to live in Gurgaon. If you want a spacious apartment, then this is the right place for you. The apartments here have good layout and also have a good view of the surrounding area. You can also find many other facilities at your doorstep like schools, hospitals and shopping malls etc., which will make your life easy if you stay here with your family or friends.

State-of-the-art facilities

The Adani Samsara Vilasa Gurgaon is a luxurious apartment that offers all the modern facilities. This includes:

Gymnasium

Swimming pool

Tennis court

Basketball court (with ball machine)

The children’s play area is also in the complex, which makes it ideal for kids to have fun while parents relax on their balconies or terraces and watch over them. There are two parking lots within the complex, so you can pick up your car without worrying about finding a spot close by.

Serene surroundings

The apartments are located in a quiet locality, where you can enjoy your privacy and peace. The apartments are located in a green area, which makes them all the more serene. Also, they are located in a peaceful area where you can have fun without any disturbance by other people or animals.

Sustainable features

The Adani Samsara Sector 63 is a green building that is energy efficient. It has a low carbon footprint and low water consumption. This makes it an ideal property for those who want to live in a sustainable manner.

Premium quality construction

Samsara Vilasa has been built with the best quality materials and workmanship. The roof is made from steel and the walls are coated with a special paint. This will keep your home safe from any kind of moisture for years to come.

The design of the house is also very attractive, making it an ideal choice for those who want their homes to look good as well as be functional.

24x7 power backup

The best thing about this product is that it has a 24x7 power backup. This is the most important factor in any home, as it can be used to save yourself from any emergency situations. You may be worried about your electricity going out when you are cooking or doing some other work at night, but with this product, there would be no need for such worries because your appliances will still work even after the power goes off.

It also comes with an automatic back-up generator which can be used if there's no direct connection between the house and the grid (which means if there’s no connection between your house and main source of energy). With this feature, you don't have to worry about whether or not there's enough supply of electricity during peak hours because this device automatically switches itself off once its battery runs out of charge so that its operation doesn't affect other electrical devices connected nearby

Multi-tier security

You can add security cameras to your home to ensure that your valuables remain safe and secure. You can also add security guards, who will be stationed in the premises from time to time and monitor everything happening around them.

If you have a large property or if there are many people living in one place, then it's important for you to install gates at all entrances of your house so that strangers cannot enter without permission. And if possible, try installing an electric gate instead of manual ones since these tend not only serve as barriers but also give off an impression of high-end quality when compared with normal wooden ones made out of wood or iron bars etcetera!

Vaastu-compliant

Vaastu is a Hindu philosophy that is based on the belief that all objects and places have a specific energy. Vaastu is a science that is used to identify and improve the energy of an environment.

Samsara Vilasa Gurgaon has been designed in accordance with Vaastu principles so as to create an ambience which will ensure peace and prosperity for all who live in it.

Well-equipped gymnasium

The gymnasium is the best place to exercise. It has a lot of equipment, people and socialization. You can meet new friends there who are also interested in fitness or sports.

It's a good idea to join a gym so you can take advantage of all its resources: from cardio machines to weight lifting benches and even yoga mats!

Kids play area

The kids play area is a great way to keep your kids entertained and active. It’s also a great way to keep them healthy and happy.

Kids love playing games with their friends, especially if they can throw around toys that make noise or light up when they hit the ball against something hard enough!

Tennis and basketball court

A tennis and basketball court is available for hire. Both the courts can be rented out by the day or week.

The tennis court is located in a picturesque location with stunning views of nature, and it’s an ideal location for any kind of event and celebration. If you are planning on hosting a birthday party or wedding ceremony there, this will be one of your best options as you can enjoy some time together with your family members while playing games like badminton or table tennis on this spacious ground which comes with its own clubhouse facility as well! The basketball court also offers ample space for families who wish to spend time together having fun outdoors during weekends or holidays at home; it has been designed keeping all preferences in mind so that everyone gets their fair share out here!

The best thing about the Samsara Vilasa is that it offers a wide range of amenities, including 24x7 power backup, multi-tier security and vaastu-compliant apartments. The location of the complex makes it ideal for those who want to stay connected with their work and have access to all major transport hubs in Gurgaon.

Get in Touch!

Website - https://www.samsaravilasagurgaon.in/

Skype - shalabh.mishra

Telegram - shalabhmishra

Email - [email protected]

Mobile - +919990536116

#Adani Samsara Vilasa Gurgaon #Adani Samsara Sector 63

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earaercircular · 1 year

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The recyclers of the Caribbean: a formula against hunger and garbage in Colombia

Mirta González collects the usable material from the Instituto Samario del Sur in Santa Marta (Colombia), on February 6, 2023

With their work, more than 150 recyclers from Santa Marta and Barranquilla, many of them Venezuelan migrants, contribute to the recovery of the environment

“Good morning, Recycling!” Mirta González shouts through the streets of the Primero de Mayo working-class neighbourhood in the city of Santa Marta[1], on the Colombian Caribbean coast. She repeats the sentence several times, going to each house to collect the bags containing plastic bottles, lids, cardboard, cans or glass that the neighbours give her. “I am an environmental helper,” the 30-year-old woman, a native of the municipality of San Francisco[2], located in northern Venezuela, proudly states. González is part of a group of 125 recyclers and environmental reclaimers in Santa Marta, most of them migrants, who fight to dignify her trade while helping the planet. Her work is part of a project of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, UNHCR [3], and the Italian NGO CESVI[4] dedicated to humanitarian work for more than three decades.

“We observed that when migrants arrived in Colombia, many began to recycle,” explains Kriss Ovalle, one of the project coordinators at CESVI. "In Venezuela it is not so common, but here we had no other option," argues González, referring to the work of her and her partner, who arrived in Colombia at the beginning of 2017 together with her four young children. "My husband has been recycling for five years now, and I have been recycling for three and a half," continues the woman, who earns between one and seven dollars a day, depending on what luck she has.

Her reality is similar to that of other recyclers that CESVI identified in impoverished areas of Santa Marta. More than 90 were migrants, while close to 30 were Colombians. UNHCR and the NGO undertook actions to help them since August 2021. "First, it was important to make them see the impact of their work," says Ovalle. This is how the group began to carry out days to clean and recover public spaces. “We built a park with car tires,” recalls González with a laugh.

The idea was for them to learn about caring for the environment to become aware of their work, and thus be able to ask the community for support. “I myself went house to house telling people how to separate the garbage and letting them know that I was going to pick it up,” says González. In front of her is her nephew Rubén, who drives the cart in which they both collect the reusable material. "These things later become plastic chairs, more bags, or more bottles," says the woman, holding one of the pots in her hand. Like many in the group, González has the endorsement to work legally in Colombia and has grown to love her trade despite the difficulties. “If you go to my house, you will realize that we are a family of real recyclers”, she says with conviction.

The wheeled container and González's denim uniform bear the emblem of Asorecuperar, an association made up of 70 project beneficiaries who joined forces to fight for decent working conditions. UNHCR gave them the appropriate clothing and gave them ten carts to carry out their work. "Before, I used to recycle with a sack over my shoulder and many looked at me badly, but now people recognize me," she says motivated, her eyes on her shirt sleeves. It is not known how many recyclers like González there are in Colombia, but until 2018, the Ministry of Environment and Sustainable Development[5] estimated that 30,500 people were engaged in this trade.

Her mother and the rest of the association's members still face recycling challenges. "We need a warehouse to store the material and our own cooperative to sell it at better prices," says Aníbal Peroz, president of Asorecuperar and leader of the recyclers in the Villa Betel neighbourhood[6], a neighbourhood with streets without asphalt and flimsy houses, in where misery and state oblivion reign. The 63-year-old man is a fellow citizen of González and is concerned about the precipitous drop in recycling prices in recent months. "Yesterday I barely made 13,000 pesos," which in exchange is less than three dollars, says Peroz, a widowed father with a seven-year-old daughter.

Despite the fact that CESVI ended its work with the Santa Marta recyclers at the end of last year, Alba Marcellán, head of the UNHCR office in Barranquilla, maintains that the agency will continue to support Asorecuperar. "We are going to accompany the process of formalizing the Association so that the recyclers reach their objectives," says the official, who has been working for more than a decade for migrants and refugees in the country.

In the breezes of the Magdalena river

Without anticipating it, UNHCR's work also spread to the El Ferry neighbourhood[7] in Barranquilla[8], a place where poverty is exactly the same as that of the corridors of Villa Betel, in Santa Marta. There, hand in hand with the social ministry, they have supported a group of 30 recycling mothers.

Mariangela, Nairis, Esther, and Aramis live in a sector of the Ferry, known as Brisas del Río[9], that separates Barranquilla from the municipality of Soledad by means of a pile of garbage that rises between two streets, on the banks of the Magdalena River. At that border, mothers leave at whatever time is necessary to collect as much PET-type plastic, cans, and archival material as possible in order to eat. They already have uniforms to identify themselves, boots to make their way in the dirt, gloves to handle the garbage and hats to protect themselves from the raging sun of the region.

Although most of them are not aware of the positive impact of their work, some are very clear about it. “The garbage that we collect is used to do many things. I know because I researched it. Our work is important, ”says Nairis Rojas, sitting in an armchair with her hands placed on her belly eight months pregnant with what will be her second child.

The gift of belonging

All the beneficiaries of these projects agree that the recognition of their existence has been the most important privilege. “Before we felt isolated, but now we are part of something,” explains Víctor Ramírez, a waste picker in Bahía Concha, near Santa Marta. "Mirta is a very important woman, because she contributes to the planet," González complements, speaking of herself in the third person, with flashes of light in her eyes.

As of February 2022, according to data from Migración Colombia, there are 169,941 Venezuelan migrants in Santa Marta and Barranquilla. In the country, the total is 2,477,588. Marcellán insists that the main premise of the actions of UNHCR and the organizations with which it collaborates is to "continue to encourage the population and make them feel more Colombian every day so that it becomes a richer, more nourished and more unique country". .

Source

PAULA MEDINA, Los recicladores del Caribe: una fórmula contra el hambre y la basura en Colombia, in: El País, 28-02-2023, https://elpais.com/america-futura/2023-02-28/los-recicladores-del-caribe-una-formula-contra-el-hambre-y-la-basura-en-colombia.html

[1] Santa Marta (officially the Distrito Turístico, Cultural e Histórico de Santa Marta (English: Touristic, Cultural and Historic District of Santa Marta), is a city on the coast of the Caribbean Sea in northern Colombia. It is the capital of Magdalena Department and the fourth-largest urban city of the Caribbean Region of Colombia, after Barranquilla, Cartagena, and Soledad. This city is situated on a bay by the same name and as such, it is a prime tourist destination in the Caribbean region.

[2] San Francisco is a municipality in the metropolitan area of Maracaibo, Venezuela's second largest city. San Francisco covers an area of 185 square kilometres and recorded a population of 446,757 in the 2011 Venezuelan census.

[3] The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) is a United Nations agency mandated to aid and protect refugees, forcibly displaced communities, and stateless people, and to assist in their voluntary repatriation, local integration or resettlement to a third country. It is headquartered in Geneva, Switzerland, with over 17,300 staff working in 135 countries.

[4] Cesvi (Italian, "cooperazione e sviluppo", cooperation and development) is an Italian humanitarian organizations. Founded in 1985, it has about 30 offices all over the world. Cesvi provides assistance in emergency situations (including famine and epidemics (especially malaria and dengue in the South East Asia, malaria and HIV/AIDS in Africa), helps refugees (e.g. North Uganda and DR Congo) and flood victims, supports reconstruction after disasters (earthquakes, tsunami), implements projects for sustainable development and environmental defence in poor countries. The organization is sponsored by Italian private donors (34%), public donors (European Union, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Italy, United Nations agencies), foundations, companies, local authorities. Among its fields of expertise are the problems of food/nutrition, HIV/AIDS, health, refugees and IDPs, shelter, water and sanitation.

[5] Ministerio de Ambiente y Desarrollo Sostenible https://www.minambiente.gov.co/

[6] Barrio Villa Betel de Santa Marta. https://www.las2orillas.co/barrio-villa-betel-de-santa-marta-entre-moscas-zancudos-basura-falta-de-agua-potable-y-olvido-estatal/

[7] Barrio El Ferry - Barranquilla

[8] Barranquilla is the capital district of Atlántico Department in Colombia. It is located near the Caribbean Sea and is the largest city and third port[5] in the Caribbean Coast region; as of 2018 it had a population of 1,206,319,making it Colombia's fourth-most populous city after Bogotá, Medellín, and Cali.

[9] This invasion, located between the El Ferry neighbourhood and the Magdalena River, is one of the poorest and most crowded areas of Barranquilla. https://www.elheraldo.co/atlantico/brisas-del-rio-el-barrio-donde-se-respiran-malos-olores-843977

#waste recycling

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mcmansionhell · 3 years

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Underground, Part 1

[Author’s Note: A year ago, when waiting for the DC Metro, I came up with an idea for a short story involving two realtors and the infamous Las Vegas Underground House, typed up an outline, and shoved it away in my documents where it sat neglected until this month. The house recently resurfaced on Twitter, and combined with almost a year of quarantine, the story quickly materialized. Though I rarely write fiction, I decided I’d give it a shot as a kind of novelty McMansion Hell post. I’ve peppered the story with photos from the house to break up the walls of text. Hopefully you find it entertaining. I look forward to returning next month with the second installment of this as well as our regularly scheduled McMansion content. Happy New Year!

Warning: there’s lots of swearing in this.]

Underground

Back in 1997, Mathieu Rino, the son of two Finnish mechanical engineers who may or may not have worked intimately with the US State Department, changed his name to Jay Renault in order to sell more houses. It worked wonders.

He gets out of the car, shuts the door harder than he should. Renault wrinkles his nose. It’s a miserable Las Vegas afternoon - a sizzling, dry heat pools in ripples above the asphalt. The desert is a place that is full of interesting and diverse forms of life, but Jay’s the kind of American who sees it all as empty square-footage. He frowns at the dirt dusting up his alligator-skin loafers but then remembers that every lot, after all, has potential. Renault wipes the sweat from his leathery face, slicks back his stringy blond hair and adjusts the aviators on the bridge of his nose. The Breitling diving watch crowding his wrist looks especially big in the afternoon glare. He glances at it.

“Shit,” he says. The door on the other side of the car closes, as though in response.

If Jay Renault is the consummate rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xer trying to sell houses to other rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xers, then Robert Little is his millennial counterpart. Both are very good at their jobs. Robert adjusts his tie in the reflection of the Porsche window, purses his lips. He’s Vegas-showman attractive, with dark hair, a decent tan, and a too-bright smile - the kind of attractive that ruins marriages but makes for an excellent divorcee. Mildly sleazy.

“Help me with these platters, will you?” Renault gestures, popping the trunk. Robert does not want to sweat too much before an open house, but he obliges anyway. They’re both wearing suits. The heat is unbearable. A spread of charcuterie in one hand, Jay double-checks his pockets for the house keys, presses the button that locks his car.

Both men sigh, and their eyes slowly trail up to the little stucco house sitting smack dab in the center of an enormous lot, a sea of gravel punctuated by a few sickly palms. The house has the distinct appearance of being made of cardboard, ticky-tacky, a show prop. Burnt orange awnings don its narrow windows, which somehow makes it look even more fake.

“Here we go again,” Jay mutters, fishing the keys out of his pocket. He jiggles them until the splintered plywood door opens with a croak, revealing a dark and drab interior – dusty, even though the cleaners were here yesterday. Robert kicks the door shut with his foot behind him.

“Christ,” he swears, eyes trailing over the terrible ecru sponge paint adorning the walls. “This shit is so bleak.”

The surface-level house is mostly empty. There’s nothing for them to see or attend to there, and so the men step through a narrow hallway at the end of which is an elevator. They could take the stairs, but don’t want to risk it with the platters. After all, they were quite expensive. Renault elbows the button and the doors part.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he says as they step inside. The fluorescent lights above them buzz something awful. A cheery metal sign welcomes them to “Tex’s Hideaway.” Beneath it is an eldritch image of a cave, foreboding. Robert’s stomach’s in knots. Ever since the company assigned him to this property, he’s been terrified of it. He tells himself that the house is, in fact, creepy, that it is completely normal for him to be ill at ease. The elevator’s ding is harsh and mechanical. They step out. Jay flips a switch and the basement is flooded with eerie light.

It’s famous, this house - The Las Vegas Underground House. The two realtors refer to it simply as “the bunker.” Built by an eccentric millionaire at the height of Cold War hysteria, it’s six-thousand square feet of paranoid, aspirational fantasy. The first thing anyone notices is the carpet – too-green, meant to resemble grass, sprawling out lawn-like, bookmarked by fake trees, each a front for a steel beam. Nothing can grow here. It imitates life, unable to sustain it. The leaves of the ficuses seem particularly plastic.

Bistro sets scatter the ‘yard’ (if one can call it that), and there’s plenty of outdoor activities – a parquet dance floor complete with pole and disco ball, a putt putt course, an outdoor grill made to look like it’s nestled in a rock, but in reality better resembles a baked potato. The pool and hot tub, both sculpted in concrete and fiberglass mimicking a natural rock formation, are less Playboy grotto and more Fred Flintstone. It’s a very seventies idea of fun.

Then, of course, there’s the house. That fucking house.

A house built underground in 1978 was always meant to be a mansard – the mansard roof was a historical inevitability. The only other option was International Style modernism, but the millionaire and his wife were red-blooded anti-Communists. Hence, the mansard. Robert thinks the house looks like a fast-food restaurant. Jay thinks it looks like a lawn and tennis club he once attended as a child where he took badminton lessons from a swarthy Czech man named Jan. It’s drab and squat, made more open by big floor-to-ceiling windows nestled under fresh-looking cedar shingles. There’s no weather down here to shrivel them up.

“Shall we?” Jay drawls. The two make their way into the kitchen and set the platters down on the white tile countertop. Robert leans up against the island, careful of the oversized hood looming over the electric stovetop. He eyes the white cabinets, accented with Barbie pink trim. The matching linoleum floor squeaks under his Italian loafers.

“I don’t understand why we bother doing this,” Robert complains. “Nobody’s seriously going to buy this shit, and the company’s out a hundred bucks for party platters.”

“It’s the same every time,” Renault agrees. “The only people who show up are Instagram kids and the crazies - you know, the same kind of freaks who’d pay money to see Chernobyl.”

“Dark tourism, they call it.”

Jay checks his watch again. Being in here makes him nervous.

“Still an hour until open house,” he mutters. “I wish we could get drunk.”

Robert exhales deeply. He also wishes he could get drunk, but still, a job’s a job.

“I guess we should check to see if everything’s good to go.”

The men head into the living room. The beamed, slanted ceiling gives it a mid-century vibe, but the staging muddles the aura. Jay remembers making the call to the staging company. “Give us your spares,” he told them, “Whatever it is you’re not gonna miss. Nobody’ll ever buy this house anyway.”

The result is eclectic – a mix of office furniture, neo-Tuscan McMansion garb, and stuffy waiting-room lamps, all scattered atop popcorn-butter shag carpeting. Hideous, Robert thinks. Then there’s the ‘entertaining’ room, which is a particular pain in the ass to them, because the carpet was so disgusting, they had to replace it with that fake wood floor just to be able to stand being in there for more than five minutes. There’s a heady stone fireplace on one wall, the kind they don’t make anymore, a hearth. Next to it, equally hedonistic, a full bar. Through some doors, a red-painted room with a pool table and paintings of girls in fedoras on the wall. It’s all so cheap, really. Jay pulls out a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket along with a pen. He ticks some boxes and moves on.

The dining room’s the worst to Robert. Somehow the ugly floral pattern on the curtains stretches up in bloomer-like into a frilly cornice, carried through to the wallpaper and the ceiling, inescapable, suffocating. It smells like mothballs and old fabric. The whole house smells like that.

The master bedroom’s the most normal – if anything in this house could be called normal. Mismatched art and staging furniture crowd blank walls. When someone comes into a house, Jay told Robert all those years ago, they should be able to picture themselves living in it. That’s the goal of staging.

There’s two more bedrooms. The men go through them quickly. The first isn’t so bad – claustrophobic, but acceptable – but the saccharine pink tuille wallpaper of the second gives Renault a sympathetic toothache. The pair return to the kitchen to wait.

Both men are itching to check their phones, but there’s no point – there’s no signal in here, none whatsoever. Renault, cynical to the core, thinks about marketing the house to the anti-5G people. It’s unsettlingly quiet. The two men have no choice but to entertain themselves the old-fashioned way, through small talk.

“It’s really fucked up, when you think about it,” Renault muses.

“What is?”

“The house, Bob.”

Robert hates being called Bob. He’s told Jay that hundreds of times, and yet…

“Yeah,” Robert mutters, annoyed.

“No, really. Like, imagine. You’re rich, you founded a major multinational company marketing hairbrushes to stay-at-home moms, and what do you decide to do with your money? Move to Vegas and build a fucking bunker. Like, imagine thinking the end of the world is just around the corner, forcing your poor wife to live there for ten, fifteen years, and then dying, a paranoid old man.” Renault finds the whole thing rather poetic.

“The Russkies really got to poor ol’ Henderson, didn’t they?” Robert snickers.

“The wife’s more tragic if you ask me,” Renault drawls. “The second that batshit old coot died, she called a guy to build a front house on top of this one, since she already owned the lot. Poor woman probably hadn’t seen sunlight in God knows how long.”

“Surely they had to get groceries.”

Jay frowns. Robert has no sense of drama, he thinks. Bad trait for a realtor.

“Still,” he murmurs. “It’s sad.”

“I would have gotten a divorce, if I were her,” the younger man says, as though it were obvious. It’s Jay’s turn to laugh.

“I’ve had three of those, and trust me, it’s not as easy as you think.”

“You’re seeing some new girl now, aren’t you?” Robert doesn’t really care, he just knows Jay likes to talk about himself, and talking fills the time.

“Yeah. Casino girl. Twenty-six.”

“And how old are you again?”

“None of your business.”

“Did you see the renderings I emailed to you?” Robert asks briskly, not wanting to discuss Jay’s sex life any further.

“What renderings?”

“Of this house, what it could look like.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Jay has not seen the renderings.

“If it were rezoned,” Robert continues, feeling very smart, “It could be a tourist attraction - put a nice visitor’s center on the lot, make it sleek and modern. Sell trinkets. It’s a nice parcel, close to the Strip - some clever investor could make it into a Museum of Ice Cream-type thing, you know?”

“Museum of Ice Cream?”

“In New York. It’s, not, like, educational or anything. Really, it’s just a bunch of colorful rooms where kids come to take pictures of themselves.”

“Instagram,” Jay mutters. “You know, I just sold a penthouse the other week to an Instagram influencer. Takes pictures of herself on the beach to sell face cream or some shit. Eight-point-two million dollars.”

“Jesus,” Robert whistles. “Fat commission.”

“You’re telling me. My oldest daughter turns sixteen this year. She’s getting a Mazda for Christmas.”

“You ever see that show, My Super Sweet Sixteen? On MTV? Where rich kids got, like, rappers to perform at their birthday parties? Every time at the end, some guy would pull up in, like, an Escalade with a big pink bow on it and all the kids would scream.”

“Sounds stupid,” Jay says.

“It was stupid.”

It’s Robert’s turn to check his watch, a dainty gold Rolex.

“Fuck, still thirty minutes.”

“Time really does stand still in here, doesn’t it?” Jay remarks.

“We should have left the office a little later,” Robert complains. “The charcuterie is going to get –“

A deafening sound roars through the house and a violent, explosive tremor throws both men on the ground, shakes the walls and everything between them. The power’s out for a few seconds before there’s a flicker, and light fills the room again. Two backup generators, reads Jay’s description in the listing - an appeal to the prepper demographic, which trends higher in income than non-preppers. For a moment, the only things either are conscious of are the harsh flourescent lighting and the ringing in their ears. Time slows, everything seems muted and too bright. Robert rubs the side of his face, pulls back his hand and sees blood.

“Christ,” he chokes out. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” Jay breathes, looking at his hands, trying to determine if he’s got a concussion. The results are inconclusive – everything’s slow and fuzzy, but after a moment, he thinks it might just be shock.

“It sounded like a fucking 747 just nosedived on top of us.”

“Yeah, Jesus.” Jay’s still staring at his fingers in a daze. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Robert grumbles. Jay gives him a cursory examination.

“Nothing that needs stitches,” he reports bluntly. Robert’s relieved. His face sells a lot of houses to a lot of lonely women and a few lonely men. There’s a muffled whine, which the two men soon recognize as a throng of sirens. Both of them try to calm the panic rising in their chests, to no avail.

“Whatever the fuck happened,” Jay says, trying to make light of the situation, “At least we’re in here. The bunker.”

Fear forms in the whites of Robert’s eyes.

“What if we’re stuck in here,” he whispers, afraid to speak such a thing into the world. The fear spreads to his companion.

“Try the elevator,” Jay urges, and Robert gets up, wobbles a little as his head sorts itself out, and leaves. A moment later, Jay hears him swear a blue streak, and from the kitchen window, sees him standing before the closed metal doors, staring at his feet. His pulse racing, Renault jogs out to see for himself.

“It’s dead,” Robert murmurs.

“Whatever happened,” Jay says cautiously, rubbing the back of his still-sore neck, “It must have been pretty bad. Like, I don’t think we should go up yet. Besides, surely the office knows we’re still down here.”

“Right, right,” the younger man breathes, trying to reassure himself.

“Let’s just wait it out. I’m sure everything’s fine.” The way Jay says it does not make Robert feel any better.

“Okay,” the younger man grumbles. “I’m getting a fucking drink, though.”

“Yeah, Jesus. That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.” Renault shoves his hands in his suit pocket to keep them from trembling.

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#architecture #design #fiction #las vegas #underground house

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andreafmn · 3 years

Text

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 6

Word Count: 3,753

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 6/?

Warnings: mentions of murder, arson, and blood

A/N: The ending is dark, y'all, dark. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

TikTok • Instagram • Business

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Chapter 6

I followed my father inside the house, my hands trembling and sweating. The only topic I believed they would seriously need to talk to me about was the supernatural and the family business. Just as I had told Derek, if I hadn’t met him and Scott, I would have probably joined without a second thought. But I had met them, I had been embraced by them, and I didn’t know what I was going to answer.

I sat across from my parents on the kitchen’s island. They seemed excited, but a bit anxious. Obviously, revealing to your daughter the existence of supernatural beings and the fact that the whole family hunted them wasn’t an easy task. At least, she already knew the most hard-hitting information and she wouldn’t feel blindsided.

“Honey, what we have to tell you is very important, and we don’t want you to feel like we have been keeping this from you on purpose,” my mother started. “But you need to understand that everything we have to say today is nothing but the truth. Okay?”

“Guys, what is it? You’re scaring me.”

“You know that all Argents work at the family company, Argent Arms International, and that at some point you’d probably end up working there.”

“Yeah, dad. The reason I know too much about weapons,” I laughed. I couldn’t let on that I knew more than they thought.

“Well, the company is actually a front for the real work we do behind the scenes, and the reason we’re on the road a lot,” my father started. “Since the start of our lineage Argents have been hunters.”

“Hunters of what?”

“Now, I need you to remember that what I am about to tell you is the full honest truth.” I nodded. “We hunt supernatural creatures, but mainly werewolves. You remember the tattoo I have on my arm that you asked about when you were younger?”

“Yeah, ‘Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent’. French, we hunt those who hunt us. I always thought it was more of a psychological phrase.”

“That’s our family mantra. All Argent generations have been trained since childhood to become hunters one day, Chris and I were the only ones that decided to give you and Allison the choice once you became teenagers to know about our world. It’s completely up to you to join us.”

“So, all the training, physical and with weapons, was all in preparation for this?” My father nodded. I could see the worry in his face of how I would take this news – a one-worded answer was going to shift my whole life. It was one thing to be knowledgeable of this life, it was another to be in the center of all of it.

“We run by a code,” my father explained. “We only hunt those who have been proven to have harmed innocent lives – only adults, no young ones, and no humans. Any hunter that breaks that code is an enemy to our cause.”

“Is that what aunt Kate did?” I spoke in a hushed tone knowing this was a difficult topic for my father, one that we hadn’t touched upon in the time we had been here.

“Yes, it is” my mother answered. Her dislike towards her sister-in-law wasn’t a secret. Mom had always thought of her as arrogant and self-centered – or so she would state when in an alcohol-induced rant.

“Unfortunately, my sister did break the code, but that’s beside the point,” dad interjected. “Sweetheart, we make sure that everyone around us is protected from the creatures that are unknown. So, what do you think? Do you want to join us?”

They both studied my face, waiting on any reaction that could arise from me. All I could think is how my decision could affect the people that had made their way into my life. Allison had accepted, and although her relationship with Scott was strained, she still managed to keep him close. But what if I accepted and all it did was deteriorate all the new relationship I was trying to build?

“Yes.”

After the conversation, my father warned me that training would start soon, after I passed some sort of test. They were happy that I had agreed to join the family trade, but I noticed a sign of worry in my father’s eyes. His whole life had been built around supernatural hunting, so what was he worried about? Whatever it was, he did not express. They had both been called away on a meeting and excused themselves before leaving. With the house to myself, I basked in my decision sitting on the living room couch, petting Brody.

“What do you think, bub? Did I make the right choice?” Brody looked up at me, his tongue hanging out, a smile on his face. A bark came after and I took it as confirmation that I had. “Maybe you’re right. We’ll see, huh? Should I call Derek and tell him?”

At the sound of Derek’s name, Brody barked out happily. I laughed at his reaction and decided to call Derek. It still surprised me that Brody had taken to Derek so quickly – probably had to do with him being a werewolf and an alpha. I clicked on his contact on my phone and waited on speaker for him to pick up.

“Hello?” His voice rang out, exciting Brody once more. “Hey, buddy!”

“He’s been very excited to hear from you.”

“I can see,” he chuckled. “I can assume you made it home safely?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“What’s wrong? You sound weird.”

“How can you possibly deduct my tone from over the phone?”

“Intuition, you could say. But seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Well, my parents talked to me about the family business,” I breathed out, nerves building up inside. I didn’t know what his reaction would be, and I hope my decision wouldn’t push him away. “They asked me to join them.”

“And what did you say?” He already knew the answer. Asking was just courtesy.

“I said yes.” He kept quiet for a second, and I truly believed I had ruined our relationship before anything had ever started. “Are you mad?”

“I can’t be mad. I understand why you did it, they’re your family. Why would you think I would be mad?”

“I don’t know. I’m gonna be actively working on hunting you and your kind, that would put a strain on any kind of relationship.”

“And what kind of relationship would that be?” He teased.

“Derek, this is serious. What kind of relationship could we have when we’re born enemies?”

“Allison and Scott seem to make it work. It’s hard, but it’s not impossible.”

“So, sneaking around, worrying every second that we’d be found out by hunters. Seems viable,” I snickered. “And in no way, shape, or form stressful. Believe me, Derek, I have enough anxiety as it is. I don’t need the stress of keeping all my relationships secret.”

“Do you have any other choice?”

“I guess I don’t.”

“The way I see it, (Y/N), is you can use this opportunity and work for both sides. You can protect us from the inside, and hunt those that are a real threat. Like the Kanima,” he stated. It made sense to work with my family to protect my friends, even if my family was hunting them. “And, as much as I hate saying this, you should talk to Allison about this. She seems to be handling this way better than I thought.”

“I will. Thanks, Derek. I’ll call you soon, okay?”

“I’ll be waiting. Sleep well, (Y/N).”

“You too, Derek.”

I hung up the phone and breathed out. My life had turned a lot more complicated than I had ever imagined, and I was sure it was going to turn a lot worse. I had just started dipping my toes in the supernatural pot we were living in, something told me that there was still so much that I didn’t know. And there was one person I knew would have the answers I was seeking.

I grabbed my jacket off the coat rack and got on my motorcycle, a clear route ingrained in my brain. The night was cold, and the breeze nipped at my skin as it blew under my shirt. There was so much I had to learn, and so little time.

The drive wasn’t long, and I was still surprised I remembered the way.

The lights in the McCall house were off, but the car was in front, so I assumed Scott was home. I would have gone to Allison, but I needed to know everything, and I was sure she would try to protect me from the worst of it. Scott seemed like someone I could trust, and being at the center of everything gave him a lot more insight that I could use. I looked around the house and, remembering which room was his, found a way to climb up the side to his window. Hopefully, I didn’t encounter something I didn’t want to see.

Looking away, I knocked on his window – loud enough for him to hear, but silent enough to not alarm his mom. I clutched my jacket tighter as I waited for an answer, the wind finding me easier on higher ground. It didn’t take long for the window to slid open, revealing a very confused Scott.

“(Y/N)?” He rubbed sleep off his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

“Sure.” He stepped aside and let me through. His room was messier than the last time I had seen it, and the bed was disheveled. On his desk, his computer was propped open, and a disarray of papers lived atop the wooden surface.

“Sorry for waking you, but this couldn’t wait.”

“Don’t worry. I couldn’t sleep anyway,” he chuckled. A lopsided smile taking place on his face. “So, what’s up?”

“Tonight, I was asked by my parents to join the hunters, and I agreed. But, going into this, I’m the one that knows the least about this world. Apart from Lydia, that is. I need to know everything you know about what we are up against. I don’t think our parents would have asked Allison and me to join now unless we were facing something truly dangerous.”

“Okay, I get it. And please don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you asking me and not Allison or even Derek? It seems like they would be the natural choice to ask about this.”

“Because they would try to shield me from the most dangerous aspects of what’s happening. Hopefully, you being a third party you’ll be truly honest about the situation we are in.” My tone came out friendly, but the underlying threat was evidently laced with it.

“Alright, where do you want me to start?”

“I want to know everything. No detail left out.”

“For me, this all started last year…”

And everything I learned. Scott had been bitten by Peter Hale, Derek’s uncle, who was alpha at the time. Most of last year he spent learning about his new werewolf life, which he believed he was alone in, until Derek, who came from a long line of werewolves that resided in Beacon Hills. The very same family my aunt had murdered. When he explained that part of Derek’s history, I couldn’t help but tear up. How could he ever stand being near me when my own blood had done that to him? Ripped him from his family in such a horrifying manner. I knew she had killed people but knowing that Derek was one of the survivors made my stomach knot.

He also told me how Derek came to be the alpha, and how Peter had held the alpha title also. And how my aunt had truly died. Everyone’s stories seemed to bundle into the same mess of supernatural chaos.

“Then, Jackson asked for the bite, which Derek gave him. And the thing about the bite, you sometimes turn into something other than a werewolf due to internal issues you could say. So, he became the Kanima, which is a lizard type-creature that looks for a master as we just recently learned. His main objective is to do as his master commands, and in his case, it's killing a bunch of people. He also secretes a venom that paralyzes people, but it didn’t work on you and Lydia.” Me? “Which was really weird – Lydia, we think it has something to do with Peter biting her. But you, we’re not sure. Because there’s no indication as to why you could possibly be immune. Unless you’re not human, but that would mean that Lydia’s not human either, and that doesn’t make sense.”

“Okay, Scott. You’re rambling,” I chuckled dryly, stopping him in his track. How he talked for so long, I did not understand. I believed Stiles was the only one with that ability. “How could you know that I was immune though? I haven’t had any contact with the Kanima or this venom.”

“Well, actually, the day we were making rock crystals in lab, Isaac had left some venom on Lydia’s crystal. You weren’t supposed to taste it, but it was a surprise when nothing happened to you. Have you ever been in contact with any other supernatural beings?”

“Seeing as I didn’t even know my parents were hunters, it’s safe to assume I haven’t. But I think finding out why I am the way I am is at the bottom of the list with this Kanima going around.”

“Yeah, and your family is making it very hard to do so when they’re actively hunting us.”

“They can’t be, they run by a code, and you guys are innocent.”

“But your grandfather doesn’t care. He lifted the code. He’s on a rampage towards all supernatural creatures, us included. They’re even keeping an eye on us at school – with Gerard running it and Victoria being our new teacher.”

“But we have the upper hand in learning about the Kanima, right? I mean, if my family is actively recruiting the younger ones, it means they are up against a threat they don’t know about, and we have the bestiary translated.”

“Kind of. I just have a feeling Gerard knows a lot more than he lets on.”

“Can’t really give insight on a person I don’t know. But anything I find out I’ll be sure to pass it along,” I smiled. “I still can’t believe all of this was happening right under my nose. How did I not notice?”

“It’s easy to ignore when you don’t know it exists. If I hadn’t been in the forest that night, I would be as in the dark as you were.”

“I guess so,” I smiled. “Thank you, Scott. For your honesty, and for trusting me with this information.”

“You’re one of us now, (Y/N). We look out for our own.”

“Thank you, Scott. I’ll leave you now to hopefully catch up on some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

“Of course, (Y/N). We’re gonna meet up with Allison in the library to talk about the Kanima. I think it’d be good for you to be there.”

“I will.” My body was outside the house, squatting in front of the window. “Again, thanks, Scott. It’s good to know I have a friend looking out for us.”

“Don’t mention it, (Y/N).” He smiled, scratching his neck trying to hide the blush that had crept to his face. “Get home safe.”

I felt uneasy the whole ride back home. I truly couldn’t fathom how Derek old even spend a second with me after everything my family had put him through. My stomach hadn’t stopped turning, and I felt like I could throw up at any second. He didn’t deserve to have to look at a person that resembled the person that had screwed up his life. The tears started streaming from my eyes before I could stop them. It didn’t feel right, and it wasn’t right.

Somehow I made it back home. I had blacked out at some point and was moving out of muscle memory. I was glad my parents had not made it back home yet — I could let tears cascade without having to hide them. Allison and I had always looked up to our aunt. To us, she presented herself as a confident, independent, and badass woman. I still remember how one Christmas Allison and I had gotten into her clothes and pretended to be her. When Kate found us, she couldn’t help but laugh at the two little irks in front of her. She questioned what we were doing and we told her we wanted to be just like her. I recalled how I told her I wanted to grow up to be her. There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done to take that back. Had I know back then what I knew now, I would have stayed as far away from her.

“This family is all types of messed up. Huh, Brody?” My dog looked up at me, a questioning glance on his face. “What am I gonna do, bub? I don’t think I’m strong enough to face him. I really don’t.”

Brody barked, leaving kisses on my cheeks — a nimble approach to getting rid of my tears. I snuggled closer to him, enjoying his comforting presence. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep well tonight.

I was standing in the middle of Derek’s family home, the only light coming from the moon peeking through the clouds. It was a cold night, and the low temperature was seeping into my bones. My whole body ached and the air smelled of soot. I felt uneasy standing there. Now knowing its history, my heart clenched tightly. I could only imagine the pain that had ensued in what I presumed was an agonizingly slow death. The tears that escaped from my eyes burned into my skin, and my ears rang with an unknown high pitch. I kneeled on the floor, and attempt to catch m breath.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” I stood up, the unknown voice startling me. “The smell is the worst part.”

“Aunt Kate.”

“The screams weren’t that bad,” she chuckled. “They died down quickly. There’s so much screaming you can do when smoke fills your lungs.”

“Stop,” I sobbed. “Please.”

“I can just imagine them thinking it was a normal afternoon, and then the fire starts. You know, wooden houses are a very good catalyst to speed up a fire.”

“Stop.”

“(Y/N), come on.” Kate was grinning, a sinister smile that would have anyone shivering. “It’s only a matter of time before you do something similar. You and I have always been the most alike — centered, strong, morally grey. It’s in your blood, baby girl. At first, you’re gonna believe you’re on their side, but soon you’ll see that they’re all bad. Sooner or later they all spill innocent blood. It’s better to get them when they’re fresh, it’s so much easier”

“How can you talk like that? These are people’s lives you are talking about.”

“It’s different, sweetheart. They’re not normal, they’re a living abomination,” she rationalized. “This is all a game of power. We can’t allow them to have the upper hand. If we let that happen, they’ll overtake us, and there is a natural order to things.”

“Is that why you murdered a whole family of innocent beings? The family of a kid you tricked to fall for you, leaving him alone to suffer!” I yelled, the loudness hurting my throat. “You tricked Derek and used him to end his line. Why?”

“A pack is only as strong as its number. The bigger they are, the stronger they are. I was just doing my job,” she grinned. “Just like you did.”

“What are you talking about? I would never do something as heartless as you have.”

“Are you sure, honey? Why don’t you walk through that door and say that again.”

I stared at her like a deer stuck in headlights. My body shook as I slowly made my way to the dark front door of the house. Her eyes burned into every step I took, the sinus eerie grin still prominent on her face. With every step, her stare edging me on forward. There was a scene to unfold behind that door, and she was eager for me to see it.

I stretched my hand towards the doorknob but flinched when I felt the burning temperature it held. Kate said nothing as she encouraged me to open the door, daring me to face whatever I had to with just her gaze. I braced myself for the feeling and clasped my hand around the knob, turning it to reveal whatever it was that she wanted me to see.

The scene in front of me was heartbreaking. We now stood in front of Derek’s apartment complex, his loft lit aflame. The smell of ash was more prominent and the heat was almost unbearable. I tried to run into the building, the need to help any survivors growing in me. But Kate held me back, a painful grip holding onto my arm.

“Let me go!” I yelled through tears. “I need to save my friends.”

“Darling, don’t you get it?” She chuckled. “They’re all gone. All thanks to you. Look at your hands, honey.”

I did as she told, and my breath hitched in my throat when I did. My clothes were drenched in blood, and in my hands, I carried a bloody knife and a lighter. “No, I would never do this.”

“You already did.” She pointed forward, fixing my sight on the bodies that laid on the floor of the lot. “And some of them were innocent, too. But in war, there are always casualties. I mean, your cousin sided with them, and look how she ended up.”

I walked around the bodies, trying to find a sign of life in any of them as a flood of tears streamed out of my ducts.

Scott.

Stiles.

Lydia.

Isaac.

Allison.

Even Boyd and Erica were there.

But I didn’t see one important person. “Where’s Derek?” My voice croaked, barely the volume of a whisper.

“Who do you think is inside the building? It’s a fitting end for him. Dying in the way he shucked have years ago,” she laughed maniacally. “At least he’ll relate to his family when he gets to the other side.

“NO!” Once again I tried to run into the building, needing to risk my ice to save his. But she stopped name in my tracks once more, her grip tightening. “Let me go, please. Just let me go, I have to save him.”

“Honey, he’s already gone,” she scoffed. “Don’t you get it, sweetheart? There are only two ways this will end — it’s either you or them. And the sooner you accept it, the easier it will be; you are just like me.”

Tag List: @hellowinterlane @lokisgoddesofpower @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region @sunshine-flower

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acti-veg · 3 years

Note

hey acti! not a vegan question, but i really value your stances on other topics and wondered what your thoughts on this would be (if you have the space for it!) - was talking with my dad about how capitalism isnt working and that we should replace it with democratic socialism, and his main argument was that socialism has never been implemented without a tyrannical government because it cant be, that corruption/power imbalances is inherent to socialism because it wouldnt be like every single citizen of a country would be a part of the government, that there will always be a select few at the top who make the decisions. i said thats what we already have under capitalism, to which he said he still thinks he has the most freedom possible (under capitalism). sigh. i dont really know where to go with this conversation? like my dad isnt stupid, so i want to be able to have a real conversation with him where he can see my points and not just think 'socialism evil' because it's the propaganda he's been fed.

so, what /would/ life look like under democratic socialism? how would the average person impact things like legislation?

thanks for your time and all you do for the vegan movement!!

It's hard for me to really respond to an argument like this because the claims are so vague, if I were presented with it in person I'd be asking some key clarification quesitons, such as: What specific form of socialism are you criticising? What exactly are these power imbalances that are inherent in socialism? In what way is this a problem with socialism but not capitalism, given the massive disparity of wealth and power between the rich and the poor under oour current systems? In what way does capitalism provide him more freedom than socialism would? Just asking these questions alone will make some of this argument come undone because I think he is relying on a very vague idea of what socialism even is. The truth is that socialism is an umbrella term for many different political ideologies, and they would all look different in practice. I'll try to sum up what one possible version of democratic socialism may look like: Under a socialist model, the means of production would be co-operatively owned. This would mean that goods like cars would be developed and sold according to public need, not profit. Workers would be paid the full value of their labour, since the factory/offices would be owned by the workers. Alternatively, the means of production could be publicly owned, meaning that the profits from business are put back into the public sector, paying for universal basic income for the whole population regardless of employment status, as well as high quality healthcare for all, a robust social welfare system and access to well maintained critical infrastructure.

For-profit corporations would be abolished and the state would exist only as a regulator of public goods and services. This would mean that workers would no longer have to fear the spectre of automation, instead allowing it to free up our time to pursue our passions and be more engaged with politics at a local level. Government power would be decentralised, with day-to-day decisions instead falling to unions, co-operatives and local councils elected from a broad spectrum of the population, with consensus building and direct democracy playing far larger role in the decisions that will affect our daily lives.

Another significant advantage of the socialist model is that, since businesses would be run for the public good, and our environment also being a public good, products, services and homes would be built and managed far more sustainably. When the long-term interests of a community are being prioritised over private profits it is not just humans who benefit, but every other being who shares our world with us.

For many socialists, this sort of system would be a stop-gap, to ease the transition between a capitalist society and a post-capitalist one, while production and social values are not ready for free access and voluntary labour. Others predict that as a result of increasing automation, the need to seek employment as a condition for survival would gradually be abolished altogether, resulting in free access to economic output and public goods - which would be something closer to full communism.

In terms of how citizens impact legislation, so much of that depends on what specific version of socialism we opt for. We could have representative democracy (like we have now) where an elected official represents our interests in legislative decision-making. Alternatively we could have direct democracy, where citizens have time and resources to be educated on the issues and vote directly on them, likely making use of some sort of e-democracy system to make that logistically possible.

Keep in mind though that under socialism power is far more devolved, it is not supposed to be centralised at the top. Local councils (or something resembling them) would have far more power as opposed to a centralised national government, as would trade unions and co-operatives. These groups would have a say in the decisions which effect their local enterprise and community, so the citizens which make them up woul also have far more say in the day-to-day running of their own social, domestic and professional spaces. What we call ‘freedom’ under capitalism is really just the freedom to purchase and consume, and even that is highly dependent on making enough money to do so. The youngest generation increasingly can’t even own property - the most essential ‘freedom’ offered by capitalism. So many of us are just increasingly disenfranchised from any of the ‘benefits’ of being part of a capitalist society. In the US, the shining example of capitalism, even the most basic of all freedoms, to live, is restricted by wealth and the level of your health insurance. Is that really freedom?

How much say does the average worker actually have about how their workplace is run? How much say does a member of any western democracy have over the actual laws being passed which directly effect them? In how elections operate? How budgets are spent? How often their bins are collected, how funding is allocated to social programs, how many houses are built, how their environment is protected, how their roads, schools and hospitals are maintained? Under capitalism, freedom has to be purchased, and if you aren’t fortunate enough to have the requisite wealth to do so then you are shit out of luck.

#ask #socialism #politics

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pleasancies · 3 years

Text

Interrogation

wordcount : 2k+

content / warning : interrogation, lady whump, defiant whumpee, fighting, gore, no-holds barred beatdown, choking, finger injury, death tw, self harm tw

Need to write something that connects the event between tragedy at brineward and first shot. It ends up quite long so I had to reworked some things and split it into two. Anyway, special feature of this story : a whumpee so defiant she tried to rip whumper's apart with words. Tagging @summer-of-whump

***

Previous Chapter

Avis ran to the open field. There was no one. Most of the guard are somewhere inside, making sure the experiments and researchers are safe or far outside the gate, chasing off Mary's group. They all left, letting The Thing to do whatever it please to them. Avis head towards the second building near her. Couldn't make it obvious she was bait.

A loud crack surprised her. A piece of rubble falling. The Thing was on to her. She did her job. She hoped her friends would run the opposite way instead of following. They have to. For the data they went through all this trouble to steal and especially Sherman and Emmet.

They argued for too long. She should have been alarmed at how silent Sherman was. Nausea pooled into her gut as she remember the way he crumpled into James hands. Their leader hasn't even took off his cover. From bad to worse. Emmet watched it all unfold. They shouldn't have bring him here. Her heart sank to her ankles, leaving a heavy trail of cold that knotted her insides.

Distract. Her objective now is occupy The Thing's attention until her friends are away. The outer wall's greenery was still crawling on top of her cover. As Avis entered the second building, she dumped it on the door. Not like she's going to climb out of here anyway. The second building was built different. It wasn't a hallway, more like a vast room people usually held conferences in. Weaponry research department. Faint smell of blood floating in the air. Avis run with her left hand holding on to the wall. She hunkered down a little. It was getting harder to gather the strength to put her foot forward.

She climbed the stairs to the second floor. It was walled off to several sections. A giant box of vacuum metal fill in the space on the far end. Cables everywhere. Rows of tables filled with typewriters and office supplies. Avis made a mental list of her inventory. A single gun, two bullets left. And a dozen of pens she just picked up. There's also the bayonet and her one remaining grenade. She overheard a sob.

Someone have been hiding under one of the desk. She approached it. The choked sobs turned to begging.

"No, no, please don't kill me!"

It was a girl. Her face was wet with tears. Her dress crumpled and ripped at the edges. She was relatively young, and the color of her clothes suggest she was still a student.

"Are you alone in here?"

The student didn't even look at her. She hid her face when Avis tap her shoulder.

"Look, someone's going to tore through this room and I'm not sure he could distinguish friend from foe. You have two choices. Leave, or stay so I could use you as a meatshield."

The girl dashed to the doorway. There was a scream. It was a good few minutes before The Thing burst through the door. He was still red, but his arms were already healed from burns. The last explosion had burned his upper lip, showing teeth. His right leg, Avis noticed, were completely skinless, save for the green worms eating at his flesh.

The Thing was chewing something. Bits of meat fell from his mouth. He spat. A wet slop of hair, bones and shredded fabric. Avis took a step back, a horrifying realization dawned in on her.

He lunged at her. She swung a chair to his face. She dashed to the other end of the room, bringing another chair with her. He caught up to her by a single jump. Avis crouched holding the legs of the chair above her head. It hit him square in the middle. While he curled up on the floor from pain, she run away leaving her last grenade. The impact threw her down the stairs. Heat rippled on her back. The sound deafened her. Avis failed to stand, still reeling from the explosion. She turned around, looking at the hubris. The Thing emerged from the fire.

He grabbed her by arms, slamming her across the room. Avis could feel the tendons of her shoulder ripping. Her head hits concrete. Suddenly the world was upside down. Her stomach lurched. Pain exploded throughout her side, making her breath shallow as she gasped for air.

Her hands scrambled to her pockets. Pens, bayonet, guns. Her fingers trembled too much to firmly hold anything. The Thing loomed above Avis. She clenched her teeth, bringing out her last remaining strength to draw her bayonet.

What followed was a desperate scuffle of two dying soldiers. Avis dig her finger in skinless flesh as The Thing swing her by the hair. He ate three of fingers. She spit on his eyes and screamed to his ears. When her bayonet was stuck on his shoulders, she pulled out the pens and pierced it to his neck until he couldn't heal anymore. The Thing fell on her, and his blood wash over her face like a gush of hot water.

Avis grunted as she pushed away his corpse. She glanced up. Sharp eyes boring in on her. Guns aiming for her head.

***

"Your friends have failed," The middle-aged man pulled away from his chair. "We found them in the woods. They couldn't run very far because one of them is dying. Mold poisoning is it?"

Avis clenched her fist. It fucking hurt. Three hours in the car and they didn't even put a bandage on her mutilated fingers. Just some very tight binds to stop the bleeding. The handcuffs clinked on the desk, grazing the scuffles on her wrists even when she flinched. The blinding pain subsumed her senses. She's going to regret it for the long term, enforcing bad habits during stress. But it was good for now, a way to recenter herself from the whirlwind of emotions.

"You're lying, Inspector Barnes. Your statements doesn't add up."

"Care to explain it to the man we found vomiting blood outside of the gate?"

Inspector Barnes crossed his arms. He's standing over her like an inescapable presence. Intimidation tactics, Avis remind herself. She can't trust whatever this man said. No matter how much it makes sense.

It's good her friends made it past the gate but-

No! She shouldn't. Not until Avis saw her team in prison slacks herself. Her handcuffs clatters against the desk. Blood dripping out through her knuckles.

Avis scoffed, "I'm not talking. Maybe I would if I see them captured, but it's only a maybe."

"Are you deaf? One of them is dying. The mold was eating them from the inside out. The doctors are keeping them alive as we speak, but they're not authorized to give them any cure until you give me what I need."

What does he mean by 'them'? Did he not know Sherman's the one hurt? Or is everyone infected?

Stop. No speculating. Assume everything's a lie until there's definite proof. Avis straightened her back. All of the injuries she sustained are screaming now. Her face hard, she doesn't want to let it show.

"That's illegal. You're forbidden to withhold treatment for bioweapons. Heh, you haven't even read my rights yet."

"Young lady, nothing can protect you the moment you decided to join Heretics. Letters of the law be damned, you're enemies of the State. You're. Not. Getting. Out. Of. Here."

Inspector Barnes slammed his hands on the desk, the same time he get his last words. Avis jumped, despite herself.

He's trying to rattle me.

"Forced disappearance? I knew a few of my friends who died that way. It's expected. I still think you're bluffing. Give me a picture of my friends sitting in a cell then I'd believe you."

Inspector Barnes sit back again. He run his fingers through his hair. "You're stubborn, no, cruel is more like it. Your goal for chaos is all that you had in mind. Even that intern girl..."

Avis felt bile rising to the throat. She gulped down the bitter spit saliva that's pooling in her mouth. Barnes tilt his head, his expression slightly amused.

"What's this? A sign of conscience?"

"No. I let her run so she doesn't end up as collateral damage. Guess she's unlucky. That Thing fucking ate her."

"The Dog, Fenrir, you mean. You told her to run so she could be a distraction for Fenrir when you wait."

"You're twisting my words."

"I saw the camera footage. He ate her alive. You threatened her, lead a teenage girl to her death who couldn't think straight because terrorists are raiding her workplace!"

Barnes spoke, his voice thick with emotion. It was almost a whisper at first, but rapidly rising and rising until he was practically screaming. The Inspector kicked the desk, slamming it at Avis midsection. Avis crumpled to the side. Her ribs explode with pain. It took everything not to heave on her prison garb.

"What's this? A sign of conscience?" She laughed, and the resulting pain led to a coughing fit that only serves to aggravate the pain she felt in a vicious cycle.

But more importantly, she was subsumed with spite. Barnes was part of the police force. How many people have he obliterated without remorse? Hypocrisy, to demand her begging and crying for forgiveness.

He kicked her to the head. Another blow struck her face. Avis tried to fight him off but her hands were tied. Barnes grabbed a clump of her hair. He dragged her so she'd meet his eyes. Wrath contorted his face.

"You're letting your friends die."

A spit land right between his eyes. Avis grinned, revealing two elongated fangs. She smelled blood and it's everywhere in the room. Not hers nor from Barnes. She glowered at him.

"I don't believe you. Not one bit. But I do wonder why this intern bitch is so important for you."

"My job is protect people like her from you."

"And you failed. I heard the girl screaming for her dear life. I even heard her bones cracking and her flesh ripping from the seams, I could have took my chance and killed that dog, but I can't pass the opportunity to see her be taken apart piece by piece. Isn't that what you do here everyday? What makes her different?"

Avis looked for a spark of recognition between his eyes.

"Ah, she's family?"

He throw her, head first into the floor. Her vision blurred and for a second she can't figure out which way is up or down. Suddenly one of his knee are on her chest, and his hands wrapped around her throat.

She couldn't breathe. Her field of sight rapidly shrinking. Her strength quickly fading. Her body struggled on reflex, torn shoulder squirming with her torn up hands. She have to do something. She could die. Her friends, what about them?

Barnes released her. He stood over her. His breathing hard.

"I don't care if you're dead, Avis. I wish I could get away for caving your head on this table. You're selfish. People die because you want to be exempt from the rules. But the scientist behind that glass over there want you alive. My only consolation is he could do much worse that I can ever hope to inflict in a lifetime."

Avis couldn't bring herself to fake a grin. Instead her hands shakily rises up to point him with her half-eaten middle finger. "Doesn't matter. That intern bitch is still dog's slop and you can never bury her into the ground."

She closed her eyes, barely registering that the chain on her cuffs were split. She think of her friends, perhaps dying in agony over the mold. Barnes might have lied, she told herself. Cops always lie. And even with her friends dead, she still have to do this. Keeping her mouth shut. Holding out until someone save her. Be it Death or another Heretic. They might not be related but she's not going to die betraying her family. She has to be fierce, she has to be cruel, she has to—

Avis fell unconcious on the interrogation room floor. Beyond the glass across her stood an balding man. He spoke to his two interns, "Our project's not over yet."

Next Chapter

#summerofwhump20 #summer of whump #defiant whumpee #lady whump #interrogation #fighting #injury whump #death cw #self harm tw #no holds barred beat down #beating #choking #gore warning

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froggy-beans · 4 years

Text

See You (Not Too) Soon

by me! (cold_nights_summer_days) for @gracefulpanda12

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker and Tony Stark, May Parker and Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Happy Hogan and Pepper Potts and Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, Original Female Character

What if he wasn’t quick enough and – they’re in critical condition – and they were gone before he got there? Before he got to say goodbye?

Don’t think like that. Everything is going to be fine. They’re at the hospital. Accidents happen all the time. Tony thought to himself. Then, another voice in his head said, Yeah. And people die from accidents all the time, too.

---------------

Written for the third Friendly Neighborhood Exchange! Prompt: Tony is Peter's Emergency Contact

Link to story on ao3

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Tony got the call around midnight. As midnight calls go, this was definitely not one of the pleasant ones. He’d been sitting in the living room, catching up on paperwork for the company, when his phone rang next to him. Tony had actually almost missed the call, having set his phone to silent while he worked to avoid being distracted.

“You should answer the phone,” Friday said vaguely.

“Who is it?” Tony asked, finally looking up from his work. He glanced briefly over at the clock, shocked that it was nearly midnight.

“Mount Sinai Hospital, sir.”

Without any more questions, Tony picked up his phone from the coffee table and pressed answer. He was already freaking out but tried to reassure himself. May works there. Maybe she’s just calling me from the hospital number—

“Hello? Is this Tony Stark?” said a tentative voice on the other end of the call. Tony cleared his throat before speaking.

“Yes, it is. Has something happened?” He asked. He already knows something has, because the voice on the other side is definitely not May Parker, and it doesn’t sound positive.

“Yes. You’re listed as an emergency contact for Peter Parker, and he’s just been in an accident. If you could come down to the hospital—”

“Did you call his aunt? May Parker?”

“No, sir. She was in the same accident. They’re both in critical condition.”

It was like Tony’s brain couldn’t comprehend the words, so he just sat there holding the phone to his ear.

“Hello? Sir? Are you there?”

“Y—yes,” Tony said. There were a million thoughts running through his head. May—Peter—in an accident. Critical condition. He needed to get to the hospital.

“Are you coming?”

“Of course, um, Mount Sinai, right? I know that’s what you said but now I’m freaking out a little bit and I don’t want to show up to the wrong place and—”

“Yes, that’s right. Someone will be waiting for you at the front desk.”

“Thanks,” He said roughly before hanging up the call and running to the hall closet. If he was going to leave the house he obviously needed shoes, but he hated every minute of trying to put them on. It was like now that he needed to be fast, he was doing everything slowly. Even getting to the elevator and pressing the button for the first floor seemed to take minutes.

It briefly occurred to Tony that he should call Happy because he wasn’t in a state to drive, but Happy was asleep. He wouldn’t be at the tower any sooner than thirty minutes, and that was just too long. What if he wasn’t quick enough and – they’re in critical condition – and they were gone before he got there? Before he got to say goodbye?

“Get it together,” He whispered to himself, twisting his keys in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and not for the first time, Tony was so glad every car he owned was built for speed. If Pepper were there she’d be worried that he’d also get into a wreck. To be fair, that was a very valid fear.

Suffice to say, the trip to the hospital was much shorter than the average GPS would have you believe. So much shorter, in fact, that the nurse who’d been sent to wait for him was shocked to see him so soon. Part of it was probably the fact that yes, he was actually Tony Stark.

“Can I see them?” Was the first thing Tony asked the nurse upon meeting her. The nurse shook her had sadly.

“Why don’t you come with me for a moment? I think it would be better to talk in private, especially because there are other matters that need discussed now,” She suggested. Tony nodded and followed her to an empty room. The bed looked freshly made, and Tony briefly wondered who’d just vacated it. Did they get to go home?

The nurse, who’s name Tony learned to be Alyssa, encouraged him to sit down in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. He listened, and she took a seat in the other one.

“They’re both in critical condition still. From what I heard last, it’s uncertain whether May Parker will make it out of surgery. She sustained major head trauma, so even if she makes it out of surgery, it’s possible that she won’t wake up.”

“Won’t wake up?”

“She might be in a coma due to brain trauma. It’s not certain right now, but you need to know that that’s a possibility. If that does happen, the hospital will need to contact her attorney and acquire her living will. I don’t know if you know what’s written in hers, but we’ll have to do what it says. Whether her family – you – agree with it or not.”

“Okay,” Tony said slowly, trying to understand what the nurse was telling him. It made sense on a surface level, but part of his brain still couldn’t move past they’ve been in an accident.

“Do you need me to repeat anything, or would you like me to continue?” Alyssa asked politely. She seemed to anticipate his questions; this was definitely not the first time she’d had to deliver news like this.

“You can—what about Peter? Is he going to be okay?” That was the question Tony had been dying to ask since he picked up the phone. The one he wanted answered, but also the one that he was terrified to hear the answer to. Because while he loved them both, Peter was the one he spent hours with. Spent hours watching movies, talking about things, teaching him things. They were both family to him, but Peter was the one he saw as—no, don’t say it – his son.

“He’s still critical as well, but he’s in better condition than his aunt. She tried to protect him during the accident, which is why she ultimately sustained more injuries than he did. He suffered a bit of head trauma as well as a few broken bones,” Alyssa continued explaining.

“Can I see him?” Tony interrupted. He didn’t want to be rude, but she seemed used to this kind of thing. Worried parents.

“Not yet. I’m sorry,” She responded. “He’ll be out of surgery soon, but he’ll have to remain under strict surveillance until his condition improves. Until then, you can wait in the lobby, or I can arrange to let you wait here. It might be easier.”

“Easier than having everyone staring at me and trying to figure out why I’m here so they can sell the story to a tabloid? Thank you,” Tony tried to make the last bit sound sincere, but he just sounded empty. His voice held no trace of the worry and anxiety and panic and fear that he felt so acutely in his head. Years of media training, perhaps. Don’t let the audience know how you really feel because they’ll twist it and use it against you.

Alyssa left the room, locking the door behind her. Alone with just his thoughts, Tony glanced around the room. It was meticulously clean and smelled of antiseptic. There wasn’t much else to do besides sit, pace, or mess around on a phone. Tony supposed he could turn on the TV if he really wanted to, but he doubted anything playing on it could hold his attention.

Tony finally settled on pacing and calling Pepper to tell her what happened. She was in Japan for a business deal and insisted on flying back once she’d heard what happened. Her and May were really close, after all, and she didn’t want to miss anything. Like her death.

Luckily, they didn’t have to wait to book a ticket because Pepper had just taken the private jet. The soonest she could be back was around six that evening. Tony was relieved that Pepper would be coming home early. He wasn’t entirely sure he could keep it together on his own. To be honest, he wasn’t even sure he could keep it together if he wasn’t alone.

Next, he called Happy. Since it was now nearing one in the morning, Happy didn’t answer, so Tony left a voicemail asking him to call back as soon as he woke up. Despite what many would think, Happy was closer to Peter than he let on. He even tagged along for his Acadec competitions. Tony put calling Ned and MJ on a list of things to do once it was later in the morning. He planned to call them and let them know that Happy would (unbeknownst to him) be able to pick them up if they wanted to see Peter once he was out of surgery.

Until there was more news, there wasn’t much else Tony could do besides the one thing he hated doing; waiting.

Tony felt himself start to nod off in the plastic chair around three. He fought it as best as he could, but he was exhausted. He’d barely slept the night before because . . .well to be truthful, he just didn’t go to bed. He didn’t want to fight with himself over trying to fall asleep. It just wasn’t worth it.

Before he could truly fall asleep, though, a sharp knock on the door shocked him awake. He jumped up, body ready for a fight, before he remembered he was in a hospital and it was probably the nurse again. Tony unlocked the door and sure enough, standing on the other side, was Alyssa. She looked more tired now.

“Peter is out of surgery now,” She said, straight to the point. Tony was grateful. He sighed in relief.

“Can I see him?” He asked, afraid that she would still say no. He didn’t want to spend any more time in that room. His phone was close to dying, and there was only so much staring at a wall that one person could take. More importantly though, he wanted to see Peter. He wanted to make sure with his own two eyes that he was still alive.

Alyssa nodded. “You can come see him, but he isn’t awake yet. And I have to warn you, it isn’t pretty. There’s still quite a lot of bruising at this stage, as well as various cuts. It’s okay if you need a minute before going in. That’s actually pretty common.”

Tony followed her quietly through the halls until they reached the room Peter was currently staying in. Tony knew he couldn’t go back once he opened the door. He would no longer have the option to pretend this wasn’t happening. Alyssa offered to let him go in first, to give him a moment alone before she came back to check on them. Tony graciously took her up on the offer. He didn’t want anyone to see him fall apart, and he felt so dangerously close.

With a deep breath, Tony pushed the door open and walked in. He was careful to shut it back behind him before he really, truly, looked at Peter. It was . . . awful, for lack of a better word. Peter’s skin was marred with deep blue, purple, and black bruises. His face had several cuts, some deep enough to warrant the use of butterfly bandages. On top of that, his wrist is in a blue cast. At least they picked his favorite color.

Tony can’t help the tears that start to fall. Not that none of this hadn’t felt real before, but now, seeing his kid looking so small and battered in a hospital bed? It was very, very real. And very, very scary. Tony didn’t want to admit it to anyone else, but he was fucking terrified. What happened if the nurse is right and May doesn’t wake up? What happens to her nephew, who has had to live his whole life losing family member after family member? What happens to Pepper if she loses her best friend? What happens to Tony if he loses one of the few people he considers family? What happens to her friends? What happens to all the people that she’s built her life around?

Sitting down in one of the chairs across from Peter’s bed, Tony tries to take deep breaths. I need to calm down. May could just as well wake up and then everything will be fine. Peter won’t lose another parent. They’re both going to be fine.

For Tony, this mantra is what one might consider an empty reassurance. It was like a parent telling a child that everything was going to o alright, not to worry, even though the child knew the parent was lying. Even if – not if, when – they did both wake up, there were long term repercussions to this sort of thing. Tony could take care of most of them (like buying a new car, the hospital bills, insurance, etcetera), but there would be some things he just couldn’t fix. New nightmares, for example. Or lasting trauma.

Eventually, Alyssa came back with a doctor to go over Peter’s condition in greater detail. Tony tried to listen, and mostly he did, but he couldn’t stop looking at Peter. Even in sleep his face was pained, and Tony knew they weren’t giving him enough pain medication for his metabolism. He also knew that the thin hospital blanket wasn’t enough for him because Peter always, always slept with at least two blankets even in the summer. He knew these things because Peter was such a big part of his life and – don’t think like that – what if that was gone? What would Tony do with the extra blankets he keeps in the closet? Nobody else ever uses them. They would just sit there.

The doctor left and Tony felt like he knew less than he did before. Alyssa assured him that once he was ready, perhaps after sleeping for a bit, she could come back and explain it all again. This is normal, she said, many times parents are too shocked the first time to remember or understand what the doctor says.

Tony nodded numbly, and Alyssa left. He knew that he should take her advice and sleep. He would need it tomorrow, most definitely. But despite almost falling asleep before, sleep was nowhere in sight for him now. All he had was worry. And grief – but that was wrong because nobody had died yet. No, not yet. Not at all.

So with nothing else to do, and nowhere to be, Tony had nothing left to do but think and play the role of watchman. When he could no longer sit in the uncomfortable chair – either because his back was aching or because his mind couldn’t take it – he wandered down to the hospital gift shop. He was surprised to find it open at such an early hour, but glad, nonetheless. He milled about in the aisles, looking at little trinkets and get-well cards. Eventually, Tony picked out a small throw blanket to bring back up to Peter.

The cashier didn’t even spare Tony a second glance while he checked out. He was thankful. Once he had finished and made it back upstairs, he quickly unfolded the blanket and laid it out over Peter’s still sleeping form. There wasn’t much else Tony could do for him at the moment, but this small thing made him feel less useless.

Tony stayed in Peter’s room the rest of the night (morning). He drifted off every once in a while, but then nightmares of Peter and May dying shook him awake. Peter never once stirred. Tony wondered if his body was keeping him asleep so his super-healing could work. There didn’t seem to be much change in the color or size of his bruising, and none of his cuts looked remotely healed. If his super-healing was working at all, it must have been focusing more on the internal injuries.

Tony called Ned and MJ at seven. He was surprised to find them awake so early on a Saturday, but they weren’t exactly the type to sleep in anyway. Ned promised to be there as soon as he could manage, and MJ said she would be on her way once she could get away from family breakfast. Tony offered to have Happy pick both of them up, but they seemed okay with finding their own way here. It was possible that Ned’s parents would come with him, too. Peter was almost as close with them as Ned was.

Happy called him back sometime after seven-thirty, groggy but awake enough to function. Even still, Tony had to repeat the part about the accident. Happy was briefly silent on the other end of the line, and then said that he would come to the hospital as soon as he got dressed. He also asked Tony if there was anything else he needed him to bring.

“Um, yeah actually. Do you know where they keep the spare key to the apartment?” Tony asked him. He doubted that the other man didn’t know, but it was still better to ask.

“Above the door frame, right? They should really move it.”

“Yeah. Can you stop by there and pick up a few of Peter’s blankets? The ones they have here suck, and I’m sure he’d feel better if had a few from home.” And I’d feel better if he felt better.

“Of course. I’ll grab a few things for May, too.”

“Thank you so much, Happy. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Tony said sincerely. He sighed and dragged a hand through his already messy hair.

“Not very much, I’m sure. I’ll be there soon.”

Happy hung up, and Tony was left alone with his thoughts once more. I’m going to have to tell the hospital about Peter’s . . . condition. Otherwise they can’t treat him properly. Or maybe I should have them transferred to the Tower. That might be better.

Following that train of thought, Tony sought out the advice of Alyssa and the doctor. When he inquired about possibly having them moved, the doctor shook his head solemnly.

“May Parker isn’t stable enough to move right now,” He said. “If you’d like to have some of your own medical staff brought in, I’m sure we could arrange it, but I don’t think she should be moved.”

Tony nodded. He briefly considered having Peter moved anyway, but he knew that wasn’t what was best. They would want to be in the same place as the other. In case . . . In case one of them died and there wasn’t time to say goodbye.

He tried to ask them more about May’s condition, but some of the words just flew over his head. But there was that sentence again: She might not wake up.The doctor said it like he didn’t believe, not even a little bit, that she would. It made Tony angry. May Parker had to wake up. There was no way she’d let go of her life that easily. Tony knew she’d fight God if that’s what it took to stay alive. If not for herself, then for Peter.

That was something they had in common. They both had other reasons to live, of course, their lives didn’t revolve around a certain spider-kid, but he was the biggest. They wanted to see their kid grow up. Graduate high school, fall in love, go to college. They wanted to be there for that.

Come on, May. I know you can do it.

May’s lawyer showed up while Ned and MJ were visiting Peter. MJ brought flowers to put on the nightstand. Ned brought a card. They both promised that they were capable of keeping Peter company while Tony dealt with some of the more legal matters. Peter wasn’t even awake anyway, but Tony still didn’t want to leave.

“My name is Mr. Tyler,” The lawyer said, sticking his hand out for a handshake. Tony shook it quickly, slightly embarrassed at how clammy he was sure his hands felt. Mr. Tyler made no indication that he noticed, which he was grateful for.

“I’m sure you know my name,” Tony replied, trying to lighten the mood and utterly failing. His voice came out more bitter than sarcastic. Oops.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Stark. Now, I’ve taken the time to read through May Parker’s living will before speaking with you. She didn’t appoint anyone as her medical proxy, but she does specify that in the event of a coma, she would not like to remain on life support. Since her condition has not been explicitly named a coma, and she has not been declared brain dead, that doesn’t mean anything yet,” Mr. Tyler explained. Tony felt worse knowing that she wouldn’t want to be kept on life support. It was not a surprising decision coming from her.

On the slightly less dark side (for it certainly was not bright) it removed the pressure of the decision from his and Peter’s shoulders. This way would feel more like being a bystander than the one pulling the trigger. Because if it came down to him to decide whether to pull the plug or not, Tony wouldn’t be able to do it. He didn’t want—or need – May Parker’s death on his conscience.

“So, what does it mean?” Tony asked. He wished he’d called one of his own lawyers to help explain the more tricky bits. He might be a genius, but right now he wasn’t sure he’d be able to solve a simple addition problem if he were asked.

“It means that until either of those things happens—”

“Unless,” Tony cuts in. The lawyer looks at him for a minute, and then amends his sentence once he realized how insensitive it must have come across.

“—unless either of those things happens, she will remain on full life support. If she is declared legally dead, I’m under instruction to discuss her final will with you and Pepper Potts. Her nephew, Peter Parker, is only supposed to be present once his guardianship has been discussed.”

It’s not as if the thought hasn’t briefly crossed his mind, but the word guardianship felt like a smack across the face. If May died, Peter wouldn’t have anywhere to go. Of course he has somewhere to go. He has me, Tony thought. But that little voice, the one that’s always contradicted him, came back with a vengeance.

And why would he want that? It questioned. It’s not like you had a very good role model. Who says you’re going to be any better than he was?

I’m not Howard, Tony thought back angrily. I’m not him.

You’re right. You’re not Howard. But that doesn’t mean that you’ll be better than he was.

I’m already better than he was.

Says who? Chirped the little voice. Says who?

The rest of the day passed slowly. Ned and MJ leave. Peter slept. Happy arrived not long after the meeting with the lawyer. He came in holding an entire bag worth of stuff, and Tony asked if he was the new Santa Claus.

“No,” Happy sniffed. “I’m just prepared. I brought what you asked for, but I also brought you a phone charger and something to eat. Don’t lie – I know you, and I know you haven’t eaten since dinner yesterday. I also brought coffee for you.”

“Oh my god, you’re a life saver,” Tony said.

“I’m not done yet. I also brought you a change of clothes because in case you haven’t noticed, yesterday’s suit really isn’t that fashionable.”

Tony laughed sarcastically and took everything Happy offered to him. He changed quickly in the adjoining bathroom before coming back out to eat the food Happy brought him. Happy had taken to sitting in the other plastic chair and watching Peter.

“He’s in really bad shape,” He commented idly. Tony sighed.

“Yeah. May is worse, but they won’t even let me in to see her yet. I’ve been asking since I got here.”

“Did you call Pepper and let her know what’s happening?”

“Yeah,” Tony said in between bites. “She’s on the jet home right now. She’ll probably be here around six or seven. Knowing her, she might not even stop at home first and come straight here.”

“Probably . . . You know, Tony, I can stay here for a little while if you need a break. You can go home for a bit and rest. I doubt you’ve slept at all sitting in this chair,” Happy gave Tony a knowing look that said You need it.

“I’m fine,” Tony assured him. “You know I wouldn’t be able to really rest, anyway.”

“I know, but if you decide you do, I’ll stay here and call if there are any updates with him and May.”

“Thanks, Happy. I appreciate it.”

Happy and Tony sit in relative silence broken only by the beeping of the monitor. Peter was hooked up to so many machines and tubes that it hurt Tony to even think about how bad he must be. He wanted nothing more than for Peter to wake up and make some stupid joke to try and lighten the situation. He wanted to see Peter’s big brown eyes open and search for someone in the room with him. He wanted to hear Peter ask where he was, what stupid thing has landed him in a hospital bed this time.

But there was nothing but the steady rhythm of the heart monitor. That was better than it being silent, because it might mean that Peter wasn’t alive at all.

Pepper arrived at the hospital at six thirty on the dot, dressed in sweatpants and one of Tony’s old sweatshirts. It was an odd sight for the public who’d never seen her in anything less than business formal, but it helped her blend in with the nightly hospital crowd. A polite nurse showed her the way to Peter’s room while catching her up on the situation. A third chair was dragged in from some other empty room, and the phrase “three’s a crowd” came to Tony’s mind. Technically there were four people, but could the cliché still apply if one of them were unconscious? Yes, Tony ultimately decided, it did.

Thirty minutes later, Alyssa came in to find the three of them talking about anything and nothing to keep the silence from being too loud. Tony was the first to notice her presence. He was so desperate for information on either of them. He just hoped that Alyssa wasn’t coming to tell them May had been declared legally dead. She would not like to remain on life support.

Tony’s heart started to race in anticipation and his hands shook. Pepper placed a calming hand on his shoulder, but he knew it was as much for her as it was for him. She loved May and Peter dearly, too. Peter’s heart monitor beeped steadily in the background.

“May is finally stable enough to perform brain scans. The doctors are going to take her back in a few minutes, but if you guys would like a moment with her before they take her back, I’ll take you over,” Alyssa said. For a moment, all of Tony’s worry melted away. Stable. You can see her.

This relief was short lived, however, because when Pepper asked if that meant May was awake, Alyssa shook her head. They still wanted to see her, anyways, and Alyssa took them to May’s room. It was bare, and Tony felt guilty. There were no flowers, no extra blankets, no cards for her. As if Pepper could read his mind (let’s be honest, she definitely could), she whispered, “Nobody was allowed to see her before now. It’s not your fault.”

May had more bruises and cuts than Peter did, and they were more severe. She looked more peaceful than Peter did. Even with the bandages and even a cast on her right arm (yellow, this time), Tony could convince himself that she would recover, and they could go back to life as usual. The voice deep inside his head thought differently.

She won’t make it, and you’ll be left to take care of Peter. Did I say take care of? I meant screw up. You’ll disappoint him just like you disappointed Howard.

Tony shook his head to clear the voice and focused all his attention on May. There was so much he wanted to say to her, even if she couldn’t hear him, but none of the words wanted to leave his mouth. They stayed in his throat, and Tony thought he might choke on them.

Pepper stepped forward first and lightly grasped May’s hand in hers. Tears were in her eyes, ready to overflow, but Pepper wouldn’t let them. She would save her tears for later, when there was nobody there to see them but the moon. She never liked crying in front of anyone; not even her family.

“You better not think this will get you out of brunch with me next weekend,” She joked, voice strained with the effort of it. It was hard to be light when the room felt so weighted. “I’ve already made reservations and I’d hate to call and cancel.”

Tony stepped forward next, but he couldn’t get the words to come out. Later, he would wish that he’d said something, anything. Anything would have been better than nothing. In the end, though, May would know everything he wanted to say, anyway. He was never good at hiding things from her. He’d never been good at hiding things from his family. Not even his father.

Once she was finished, Pepper suggested that she and Tony give Happy a minute alone. He agreed, and they made their way back out to the hallway. Two nurses were standing outside the room, ready to take her for the scans.

“He has a thing for her, you know,” Pepper said, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

“Yeah. Peter mentioned it once or twice. He said it was weird when Happy would drop him off and him and May would give each other what he calls ‘googly eyes’,” Tony replied. Neither of them had ever said anything to Happy about it, but now Tony was curious. Had they gone out on a date yet? Would they?

Soon enough, Happy joined them in the hallway and the nurses wheeled her away. Tired and worn out, the three of them walked back to Peter’s room to wait. The nurses would know where to find them when the time for news, good or bad, came.

“Isn’t it customary to sign someone’s cast?” Tony asked randomly, staring at the blue cast on Peter’s wrist. Pepper laughs lightly.

“Customary? Really?” She said, glancing at him to figure out if he was serious or not. When she figured out that he was, she asked, “Are you really going to sign his?”

“Why not?”

“Would he actually want that, or are you just trying to pass the time?” Happy chimed in. Tony gave him the side-eye, but Happy knew that he was just joking. That was just how he was with them.

“I’m Iron Man. Who wouldn’t want me to sign their cast?”

“Someone who knows how insufferable you actually are,” Pepper mumbled. Her and Happy both laughed.

“I’m doing it,” Tony said, standing up to go search for a sharpie. Luckily the front desk had one he could borrow, and he came back in the room holding it up like a trophy. Pepper and Happy shook their heads at him as he walked over to Peter and began to sign the cast. In true Tony Stark fashion, his signature took up most of the space.

“You leaving any room for us?”

“Of course, Happy. See that little spot right here?” Tony pointed to a small spot near the edge. “That’s for you.”

“Might need a little bit more room than that.”

“Then you should have signed first! As it is, I signed first, you mocked me, and now you have to live with the consequences.”

Tony sat back down between them and held out the sharpie. Pepper took it next, signing just below Tony’s signature. Happy, sure enough, signed in the little space that was designated for him.

“One day he’ll be able to sell that and pay for college. We just did him a favor.” Tony said once everyone was finished.

“You say that like you haven’t already set aside money for his tuition,” Pepper commented.

“And you, Miss Potts, say that like you didn’t help me do it.”

Alyssa came back a few minutes after nine, and Tony swore he could see tears in her eyes. He already knew what she would say. He knew that she would confirm one of his worst fears. He didn’t share this thought with Pepper or Happy, though he suspected they already knew that, too.

Tony asked if they could have this conversation outside. Peter was asleep, sure, but he didn’t want to have this conversation in front of him whether he could hear it or not. Alyssa didn’t mind. She nodded quietly and led them out to the hallway.

“The scans came back negative,” She said without preamble. “The doctors couldn’t find any brain activity. I’m sorry.”

Pepper was the first to cry. Silent tears ran down her face and she turned to Tony and found him crying too. They held each other, desperate for the comfort the other could provide. Happy, on the other hand, stayed silent. He had no words to express how he felt, except maybe anger. He couldn’t be too sure. For all he knew, he just felt empty.

“How long do we have until – until they take her off life support?” Tony asked. Pepper cried harder into his chest.

“I don’t know,” Alyssa shook her head, “A few hours at most. The doctor still has to talk to her attorney before he can do anything. You’ll have time to say goodbye.”

“And what about Peter? Does he get to say goodbye?”

“If he wakes up, yes. It’s unlikely, though. I wish there was more that I could do . . . but there just isn’t. I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I know this is very difficult for you.”

“It’s – thank you, Alyssa,” Tony realized he almost said it’s okay. That couldn’t have been right. Right now, things couldn’t have been any less okay.

“Of course. The end of my shift is coming up, but if you need anything, your new nurse’s name is Clara. She’s a close friend of mine. You’ll be in good hands,” Alyssa assured them. Tony nodded, and without another word, she was gone.

Happy decided to say goodbye first. He walked swiftly down the hallway like he was afraid he would miss her. But he can’t, because she’s already gone. Pepper excused herself to use the restroom, and briefly, Tony was glad to have a moment alone.

Once he was back in Peter’s room with the door shut behind him, he walked over to Peter’s bed and took the kid’s non-broken hand in his.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispered, the words struggling to find their way out of his mouth. “I just—that’s it. I’m so, so sorry. I wish there was something we could have done . . . but things don’t always work out the way you want them to. Or need them to, I guess.”

Peter didn’t answer. Tony didn’t know whether he would have felt better or worse if he had. Then, Tony was left with the uncomfortable truth. May would be gone, and the only person Peter would have left was him.

You won’t be enough for him.

Tony stares at himself in the bathroom mirror. The dark circles under his eyes are as deep as they’ve ever been. The little voice hadn’t left him alone since May was taken off life support yesterday. It pestered him at every waking moment, and even the few hours of sleep he managed to get.

He’d left the hospital forty minutes earlier to shower and change before his and Pepper’s meeting with May’s lawyer. They had to go over her final will, and considering what was at stake, Pepper and Tony thought it best to accomplish this sooner rather than later.

Pepper knocked on the bathroom door and asked if Tony was ready to go. He wasn’t ready in any sense of the word; tie askew, mind a complete mess, but he said yes anyway. They were out the door in no time, with one of the company’s many paid interns driving them to the lawyer’s office. The ride was silent except for the sound of traffic outside.

Mr. Tyler’s receptionist greeted Pepper and Tony by apologizing for their loss. For all their business prowess and tact, neither of them knew how to respond. They couldn’t say it was okay. It wasn’t appropriate to say, “Don’t worry about it.” Thank you was the courteous option, but it didn’t feel right. They weren’t thankful for her apologies. They didn’t mean anything.

After an awkward silence, the receptionist led them to a conference room down the hall and explained that Mr. Tyler would be in shortly and if they needed anything to just give her a shout. Pepper nodded, and the receptionist left.

Sure enough, Mr. Tyler joined them in the conference room with a stack of papers and a pen. Tony wished he could fast forward through this part. He still remembered what it was like doing this when his parents died and he was in no hurry to go through it again.

“I’ve taken the liberty of reading through the will before you arrived to make this as quick and painless as possible. There are some things that can be dealt with at a later date, such as division of property, but I’m sure today you’d like to focus on the custody of her nephew,” Mr. Tyler said.

“Yes,” Tony said, but the thought made him want to be sick. He knew May, and he knew what the will would say, and he didn’t want to hear it. It’s not that he didn’t, or wouldn’t, want to take care of Peter. That wasn’t it at all. He was afraid that Peter wouldn’t want him. He didn’t even want to imagine how hurtful it would be if, when faced with aging out of the foster system and staying with Tony, Peter picked the latter.

“Before we officially begin, though, I have letters from May to the both of you. There’s one for her nephew here as well, but I’ll give it to you to pass on once he’s present.”

Mr. Tyler gently slid over two envelopes. Tony shakily grabbed the letter with his name on the front. May was gone. Dead. And the last words she’d ever say to him were in this letter. There was a similar one for Peter, but no matter how much Tony wanted to know what it said, he wouldn’t read it. It wasn’t his business. That was strictly for May and Peter’s eyes only.

With a deep breath, Tony opened the envelope and carefully slid the letter out. It was on a simple piece of lined paper, the kind Peter used for school. Her handwriting was almost as messy as his, too.

Tony,

I’m sorry that you’re reading this. It must mean that I’m gone. But try not to focus on that, okay? I need you to focus on Peter. He’s going to need you now more than ever. Don’t bother trying to locate any other family for him to stay with; there isn’t any. I’m an only child, and the rest of my family is gone.

I want you to take care of him. I know that you don’t really believe in yourself as a parent, and I know why, but it simply isn’t true. I’m sure as you’re sitting here reading this you still don’t believe me. Pepper would agree with me, though. Yeah, that’s right. I’m pulling the Pepper card.

Peter would be so much better off with you than if he goes into the foster system. As amazing as he is, people just don’t adopt teenagers as much anymore. He would stay in the system until he aged out, and that wouldn’t be good for him. He needs someone who knows him. He needs someone who understands him and what he’s going through.

I think that’s you. I know that’s you. And I think you know it’s you, too. My official will says that Peter goes to you if he’s under eighteen, but if you . . . can’t do that, my lawyer is under strict instruction not to tell him that. It would be worse if he knew, I think.

I have faith that you won’t do that to him, though. You don’t like to show a lot of emotion, but it’s hard (even for you) to hide how much you care about him. And let’s face it; he’s yours just as much as he’s mine. So be there for him, Tony Stark, or I might have to haunt you from the grave. Doesn’t matter if you don’t believe in all that stuff. I’ll find a way.

That leaves us with one more thing; goodbye. I’ve never much liked goodbyes. It’s possible that we’ve already had ours, but just in case we didn’t; goodbye, Tony. I know I didn’t much like you in the beginning, but you’ve really grown on me. I’m going to miss you, wherever I am. Just try not to miss me too much, okay?

See you (not too) soon,

May Parker

Pepper was still reading her letter once Tony had finished his. He wondered if May had put something similar in hers. He wasn’t going to ask, though. If Pepper wanted to share, she would.

He didn’t know what to do. Maybe cry some more once they’d left this terrible conference room. But he couldn’t do that yet. He still had to deal with the present.

“Her will says that she would like the two of you to take care of him. I understand this is a big undertaking, possibly unexpected if she’d never discussed it with you beforehand. I have legal guardianship transfer papers here, too, if you decide that you’re ready to sign them before you leave here today.

“If not, that’s okay as well. You may want some time to discuss this, and I understand. I can have one of my assistants bring you the papers when, or if, you feel ready for them. Keep in mind, guardianship is not the same as adoption. If you decided to . . . change your mind and have him placed in foster care, that would still be possible.”

“What about his medical care? Do we need to sign something to keep control over that?” Pepper asked now that she was finished reading. Tony silently thanked her for asking the question so that he didn’t have to.

“Mr. Stark is still listed as Peter’s emergency contact, and still has the right to make medical decisions for him in the meantime. I don’t want to rush you, but I do suggest acting quickly. These things can get sort of messy,” Mr. Tyler answered. Tony stared at the stack of papers in front of him and wondered which ones were the ones he was talking about. It was crazy that such a huge life change could happen because of a slip of paper and a signature.

“I think we should wait. This is about Peter; I think he deserves a say on where he goes from here. I don’t want to force him into anything,” Tony thought that was the right thing to say. The lawyer seemed surprised that he wanted Peter’s input.

“He’s only sixteen and experiencing a major loss in his life. Do you think it’s wise to give him such a big decision?” Mr. Tyler asked. Tony nodded without hesitation.

“Yes. It’s his life, and I trust him to made decisions for himself. That doesn’t mean I’m going to let him be irresponsible. I just want him to feel like he’s still got some control when everything else is slipping away.”

Pepper agreed with Tony, and the issue of Peter’s custody was tabled for further discussion. Next, the pair had to deal with things like May’s college loans, current bills, bank accounts. All the things Obi had dealt with for Tony when his parents died. Twenty years later, and he felt like a kid all over again. He didn’t know what to do, who to talk to, what was going to happen in the future.

I think that’s you. I know that’s you. Those words burned in Tony’s mind while the lawyer talked about debts and bills and what would happen to the apartment. Tony wanted to believe her. May never lied to him, why would she start?

But Peter was . . . amazing and kind and compassionate. He was good. He was everything Tony wanted to be but couldn’t, and Tony didn’t want to screw that up. He wasn’t going to be the one who messed up everything May and Ben and Mary and Richard had done.

On the third night after the accident, Peter woke up. Happy had already gone home for the night, and Pepper was out finding something for them to eat. Tony was left by himself in the plastic chair, reading some news article he didn’t care about to pass the time.

If Tony was being honest, he didn’t even notice that Peter had woken up at first until he heard a strange gagging sound. He looked up to investigate and saw Peter tugging at one of the many tubes he was hooked up to.

“Hey, stop doing that,” Tony said, jumping up and pulling Peter’s hands away from the tube so that he couldn’t yank on it anymore. Peter froze and snapped his gaze to Tony’s face. His eyes went wide, and he tried to speak, but once again gagged on the feeding tube.

Tony let go of one of Peter’s hands with the strict instruction not to touch anything while he pressed the call button. Alyssa, who was thankfully back on duty, came in soon after. She gave Peter a soft smile.

“Sleepy head is finally awake, huh?” She said, checking his vitals real quick before telling him to breathe out so she could pull the tube out more easily. Once it was out, Peter tried to talk again, but it came out as more of a rasp. Alyssa left for a moment and returned with a cup of water, which Peter took gratefully.

“What happened?” He asked, voice still raspy. Reality came back, and the excitement Tony had previously felt at Peter being awake melted away.

“You and May were in a car accident three days ago. It’s Monday night, now,” Tony answered. Peter blinked slowly, like he couldn’t quite process the information.

“Where’s May? Can I see her?”

Alyssa took this as her cue to leave, but not before she gave Tony a reassuring glance. Peter watched her go before turning his attention back to Tony.

“There were some . . . complications. She was declared brain dead two days ago, and the hospital took her off life support,” Tony explained. Tears welled up in Peter’s eyes and he wanted nothing more than to take back what he said, to spare Peter the pain of knowing. But Tony knew that wasn’t possible. So, he continued.

“She leaned in front of you in the car once she knew what was going to happen. She took most of the hit, and there wasn’t anything we could do after that. I’m—I’m really sorry, Peter.”

Peter said nothing. The tears started to come faster, blurring his vison and running hot down his cheeks. Tony did his best to pull him close despite the IV and other various things Peter was hooked up to. Peter welcomed the comfort. There were few places he felt safe, fewer still now that May was gone, but Tony’s arms were one of them.

What might have been minutes or hours later, when Peter’s tears finally ran out, he whispered the question that both of them were afraid to answer.

“What happens to me?” Peter asked softly. His voice was muffled, quiet like a small child’s. Perhaps that was what he felt like in this moment.

You can live with me.

No, he can’t. You’ll screw him up.

No, I won’t.

Yes, you will.

I won’t.

Says who?

Says me.

And then, with all the bravery he’d never felt before, Tony said;

“You’ll come live with me and Pepper, if you’re comfortable with that, at least.”

“Really? You aren’t going to send me away?” Came the same small child’s voice. Tony pulled him closer.

“I could never. I love you too much.”

#the friendly neighborhood exchange #friendly neighborhood exchange #peter parker #tony stark #peter parker and tony stark #iron man #spiderman #spider-man #spider man #irondad #irondad fandom #irondad and spiderson #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel comics #marvel fandom #marvel fanfiction #irondad fanfiction

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1962dude420-blog · 3 years

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Today we remember the passing of Joey Ramone who Died: April 15, 2001 in Manhattan, New York

Jeffrey Ross Hyman, known professionally as Joey Ramone, was an American musician, singer, composer, and lead vocalist of the punk rock band the Ramones. Joey Ramone's image, voice, and tenure as frontman of the Ramones made him a countercultural icon.

Jeffrey Ross Hyman was born on May 19, 1951, in Queens, New York City, New York to a Jewish family. His parents were Charlotte (née Mandell) and Noel Hyman. He was born with a parasitic twin growing out of his back, which was incompletely formed and surgically removed. The family resided in Forest Hills, Queens, where Hyman and his future Ramones bandmates attended Forest Hills High School. He grew up with his brother Mickey Leigh. Though happy, Hyman was something of an outcast, diagnosed at 18 with obsessive–compulsive disorder alongside being diagnosed with schizophrenia. His mother, Charlotte Lesher, divorced her first husband, Noel Hyman. She married a second time but was widowed by a car accident while she was on vacation.

Hyman was a fan of the Beatles, the Who, David Bowie, and the Stooges among other bands, particularly oldies and the Phil Spector-produced "girl groups". His idol was Pete Townshend of the Who, with whom he shared a birthday. Hyman took up the drums at 13, and played them throughout his teen years before picking up an acoustic guitar at age 17.

In 1974, Jeffrey Hyman co-founded the punk rock band the Ramones with friends John Cummings and Douglas Colvin. Colvin was already using the pseudonym "Dee Dee Ramone" and the others also adopted stage names using "Ramone" as their surname: Cummings became Johnny Ramone and Hyman became Joey Ramone. The name "Ramone" stems from Paul McCartney: he briefly used the stage name "Paul Ramon" during 1960/1961, when the Beatles, still an unknown five-piece band called the Silver Beetles, did a tour of Scotland and all took up pseudonyms; and again on the 1969 Steve Miller album Brave New World, where he played the drums on one song using that name.

Joey initially served as the group's drummer while Dee Dee Ramone was the original vocalist. However, when Dee Dee's vocal cords proved unable to sustain the demands of consistent live performances, Ramones manager Thomas Erdelyi suggested Joey switch to vocals. Mickey Leigh: "I was shocked when the band came out. Joey was the lead singer and I couldn't believe how good he was. Because he'd been sitting in my house with my acoustic guitar, writing these songs like 'I Don't Care', fucking up my guitar, and suddenly he's this guy on stage who you can't take your eyes off of." After a series of unsuccessful auditions in search of a new drummer, Erdelyi took over on drums, assuming the name Tommy Ramone.

The Ramones were a major influence on the punk rock movement in the United States, though they achieved only minor commercial success. Their only record with enough U.S. sales to be certified gold in Joey's lifetime was the compilation album Ramones Mania. Recognition of the band's importance built over the years, and they are now regularly represented in many assessments of all-time great rock music, such as the Rolling Stone lists of the 50 Greatest Artists of All Time and 25 Greatest Live Albums of All Time, VH1's 100 Greatest Artists of Hard Rock, and Mojo's 100 Greatest Albums. In 2002, the Ramones were voted the second greatest rock and roll band ever in Spin, behind the Beatles.

In 1996, after a tour with the Lollapalooza music festival, the band played their final show and then disbanded.

Ramone's signature cracks, hiccups, snarls, crooning, and youthful voice made him one of punk rock's most recognizable voices. Allmusic.com wrote that "Joey Ramone's signature bleat was the voice of punk rock in America." As his vocals matured and deepened through his career, so did the Ramones' songwriting, leaving a notable difference from his initial melodic and callow style—two notable tracks serving as examples are "Somebody Put Something in My Drink" and "Mama's Boy". Dee Dee Ramone was quoted as saying "All the other singers in New York were copying David Johansen (New York Dolls), who was copying Mick Jagger... But Joey was unique, totally unique."

In 1985, Ramone joined Steven Van Zandt's music industry activist group Artists United Against Apartheid, which campaigned against the Sun City resort in South Africa. Ramone and 49 other recording artists – including Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Keith Richards, Lou Reed and Run DMC — collaborated on the song "Sun City", in which they pledged they would never perform at the resort.

In 1994, Ramone appeared on the Helen Love album Love and Glitter, Hot Days and Music, singing the track "Punk Boy". Helen Love returned the favor, singing on Ramone's song "Mr. Punchy".

In October 1996, Ramone headlined the "Rock the Reservation" alternative rock festival in Tuba City, Arizona. 'Joey Ramone & the Resistance' debuted Ramone's interpretation of Louis Armstrong's "Wonderful World' live, as well as Ramone's choice of Ramones classics and some of his other favorite songs; The Dave Clark Five's "Any Way You Want It", The Who's "The Kids are Alright" and The Stooges' "No Fun."

Ramone co-wrote and recorded the song "Meatball Sandwich" with Youth Gone Mad. For a short time before his death, he took the role of manager and producer for the punk rock band the Independents.

His last recording as a vocalist was backup vocals on the CD One Nation Under by the Dine Navajo rock group Blackfire. He appeared on two tracks, "What Do You See" and "Lying to Myself". The 2002 CD won "Best Pop/Rock Album of the Year" at the 2002 Native American Music Awards.

Ramone produced the Ronnie Spector album She Talks to Rainbows in 1999. It was critically acclaimed but was not very commercially successful. The title track was previously on the Ramones' final studio album, ¡Adios Amigos!.

Joey Ramone died at the age of 49 following a seven-year battle with lymphoma at New York-Presbyterian Hospital on April 15, 2001, a month before he would have turned 50. He was reportedly listening to the song "In a Little While" by U2 when he died. In an interview in 2014 for Radio 538, U2 lead singer Bono confirmed that Joey Ramone's family told him that Ramone listened to the song before he died, which Andy Shernoff (The Dictators) also confirmed.

His solo album Don't Worry About Me was released posthumously in 2002, and features the single "What a Wonderful World", a cover of the Louis Armstrong standard. MTV News claimed: "With his trademark rose-colored shades, black leather jacket, shoulder-length hair, ripped jeans and alternately snarling and crooning vocals, Joey was the iconic godfather of punk."

On November 30, 2003, a block of East 2nd Street in New York City was officially renamed Joey Ramone Place. It is the block where Hyman once lived with bandmate Dee Dee Ramone and is near the former site of the music club CBGB, where the Ramones began their career. Hyman's birthday is celebrated annually by rock 'n' roll nightclubs, hosted in New York City by his brother and, until 2007, his mother, Charlotte. Joey Ramone is interred at Hillside Cemetery in Lyndhurst, New Jersey.

The Ramones were named as inductees to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as part of the class of 2002.

Several songs have been written in tribute to Joey Ramone. Tommy, CJ and Marky Ramone and Daniel Rey came together in 2002 to record Jed Davis' Joey Ramone tribute album, The Bowery Electric. Other tributes include "Hello Joe" by Blondie from the album The Curse of Blondie, "Drunken Angel" by Lucinda Williams, "You Can't Kill Joey Ramone" by Sloppy Seconds, Joey by Raimundos, "I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone" by Sleater-Kinney, "Red and White Stripes" by Moler and "Joey" by the Corin Tucker Band, "I Heard Ramona Sing" by Frank Black, Amy Rigby's "Dancin' With Joey Ramone" and "The Miracle (of Joey Ramone)" by U2.

In September 2010, the Associated Press reported that "Joey Ramone Place," a sign at the corner of Bowery and East Second Street, was New York City's most stolen sign. Later, the sign was moved to 20 ft (6.1 m) above ground level. Drummer Marky Ramone thought Joey would appreciate that his sign would be the most stolen, adding "Now you have to be an NBA player to see it."

After several years in development, Ramone's second posthumous album was released on May 22, 2012. Titled ...Ya Know?, it was preceded on Record Store Day by a 7" single re-release of "Blitzkrieg Bop"/"Havana Affair"

#april 15 #2001 #r.i.p.#joey ramone #the ramones

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greatworldwar2 · 4 years

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• Panzer 38(t)

The Panzerkampfwagen 38(t), originally known as the ČKD LT vz. 38 was a tank designed during the 1930s, and developed in Czechoslovakia. It saw extensive use in World War 2.

The Panzer 38(t) was a conventional inter-war tank design, with riveted armour. The armour varied in thickness from 10 mm to 25 mm in most versions. Later models (Ausf. E on) increased this to 50 mm by bolting on an additional 25 mm armour plate to the front portion of the hull. The sides received an additional 15 mm increase of armour from Ausf. E production runs onward. The two-man turret was centrally located, and housed the tank's main armament, a 37 mm Skoda A7 gun with 90 rounds of ammunition. In addition, a 7.92 mm machine gun was in a ball mount to the right of the main gun. This machine gun could be trained on targets independently of the main gun, or coupled to the main gun for use as a conventional coaxial machine gun. The driver was in the front right of the hull, with the radio operator seated to the driver's left. The radio operator manned the hull-mounted 7.92 mm machine gun in front. Minor adjustments, such as adjustable seats for the driver and firmer footing for the commander/gunner and loader, were provided in German service. A total of 2,550 rounds were carried for the bow and turret machine guns. The driver could also fire the hull machine gun with a trigger fitted on the left tiller bar. In German service, a loader position was added to the turret by reducing the ammunition capacity by 18 rounds. All future Panzer 38(t) tanks were rebuilt according to this specification and those already in service were modified accordingly. The engine was mounted in the rear of the hull and powered the tank through a transmission at the front of the hull with five forward gears and one reverse gear. The track ran under four rubber-tired road wheels and back over a rear idler and two track return rollers. The wheels were mounted on a leaf-spring double-bogie mounted on two axles.

In 1935, the Czechoslovak tank manufacturer ČKD was looking for a replacement for the LT-35 tank they were jointly producing with Škoda Works. The LT-35 was complex and had shortcomings, and ČKD felt there would be orders both from the expanding Czechoslovak army and for export. ČKD decided to use a leaf-spring suspension with four large wheels for their new tank with an export success under the name "TNH". With small variations for each customer, 50 were exported to Iran, 24 each to Peru and Switzerland, Lithuania also ordered some. The British Royal Armoured Corps (RAC) had one trial model delivered on March 23rd, 1939 to Gunnery School at Lulworth. A report stated that "the (bow) gunner could not sit back comfortably as the wireless set was in the way of his left shoulder". The report also stated that, due to the shudder while the vehicle was on the move, it was impossible to lay the gun. As a result, the British did not purchase the LT-35 and the trial model was returned.

In the fall of 1937, the Czechoslovak Armed Forces launched a contest for a new medium tank; Škoda, ČKD and Tatra competed. Škoda Praga submitted the existing joint production export model mentioned above. ČKD also entered a prototype separate from the above, the interesting V-8-H (later called the ST vz. 39), which proved to have numerous mechanical problems. Tatra, known mostly for its smaller, wheeled armoured cars, submitted a paper entry that was a very novel concept that completely changed the layout of a tank, which concept they patented in 1938. On July 1st, 1938, Czechoslovakia ordered 150 of the TNHPS model, although none had entered service by the time of the German occupation. After the takeover of Czechoslovakia, Germany ordered continued production of the model as it was considered an excellent tank, especially compared to the Panzer I and Panzer II that were the Panzerwaffe's main tanks during the outset of WWII. It was first introduced into German service under the name LTM 38; this was changed in January 1940 to Panzerkampfwagen 38(t). The relatively small turret of the Panzer 38(t) was incapable of mounting a cannon powerful enough to defeat more heavily armoured tanks such as the T-34, so production of the Pz. 38(t) halted in June 1942 when more than 1,400 had been built. Other examples of the Pz. 38(t) were also sold to a number of other Axis nations, including Hungary (102), Slovakia (69), Romania (50), and Bulgaria (10).

The main advantages of the Panzer 38(t), compared to other tanks of the day, were a high reliability and sustained mobility. In one documented case, a regiment was supplied with tanks driven straight from the factory in 2.5 days instead of the anticipated week, without any mechanical breakdowns. In the opinion of the crews, the drive components of the Pz. 38(t) - engine, gear, steering, suspension, wheels and tracks - were perfectly in tune with each other. The Pz. 38(t) was also considered to be very easy to maintain and repair. After production of the Pz. 38(t) ceased, the chassis was used for tank destroyer designs, which were produced in greater numbers than the original Pz. 38(t). From 1942–1944, about 1,500 examples of the Marder III model were produced. It was replaced by the Jagdpanzer 38(t), based on a modified Panzer 38(t) chassis, of which approximately 2,800 were produced. The Panzer 38(t) chassis was also the basis for an anti-aircraft gun carrier, the Flakpanzer 38(t), of which about 140 were produced.

The Panzer 38(t) performed well in the invasion of Poland in 1939 and the Battle of France in 1940. It was better armed than the Panzer I and Panzer II tanks. It was on a par with most light tank designs of the era, although it was unable to effectively engage the frontal armour of medium, heavy and infantry tank designs. It was also used in the German invasion of the Soviet Union from 1941 onwards in German and Hungarian units, but was outclassed by Soviet tanks such as the T-34. Some ex-German units were issued to the Romanians in 1943, after the loss of many of the Romanian R-2 tanks. By then, it had become largely obsolete, though the chassis was adapted to a variety of different roles with success. Notable variations include the Sd.Kfz. 138 Marder III mobile anti-tank gun, the Sd.Kfz. 138/1 Grille mobile howitzer, Flakpanzer 38(t) and the Jagdpanzer 38(t) "Hetzer" tank destroyer. The German tank commander Otto Carius, who was credited with over 150 'kills', described an action in a 38(t) in July 8th, 1941: "It happened like greased lightning. A hit against our tank, a metallic crack, the scream of a comrade, and that was all there was! A large piece of armour plating had been penetrated next to the radio operator's seat. No one had to tell us to get out. Not until I had run my hand across my face while crawling in the ditch next to the road did I discover that they had also got me. Our radio operator had lost his left arm. We cursed the brittle and inelastic Czech steel that gave the Russian 47mm anti-tank gun so little trouble. The pieces of our own armour plating and assembly bolts caused considerably more damage than the shrapnel of the round itself."

The above report highlights the reason why the 38(t) was pulled out of front lines in favour of heavier Panzer III, IV and StuG IIIs. Panzer 38(t) continued to serve after 1941 as a reconnaissance vehicle and in anti-partisan units for some time. Several captured examples were refitted with Soviet DTM machineguns and employed by the Red Army. At the start of Operation Barbarossa, the Germans found Soviet T-34 tanks to be superior, as the German 37 mm Pak36 anti-tank gun proved incapable of penetrating the T-34's armour. To neutralize the T-34, the Germans mounted a captured Soviet 76.2mm gun on the chassis of the 38(t) model as a stop-gap measure and called it the "Marder III". Crews of early Marder III models fought exposed on top of the engine deck. Efforts to provide Marder III crews with more protection eventually lead to the Hetzer design.

The T-38 was the local designation for the wartime deliveries of Panzer 38(t)s from Germany to Romania in 1943. T-38 served with the forces operating in Kuban. within 2nd Tank Regiment and later the 54th Company attached to the HQ and the cavalry corps in Kuban and Crimea. T-38 tanks were still in action with the 10th Infantry Division and Cavalry Divisions in 1944. In the Slovak Army, this tank received designation LT-38. Because of the first series of the LT-38 was not finished in March 1939 and as it was seized by Nazi Germany, the army of the Slovak State, a German ally in the Polish and Soviet campaigns, initially had only LT-35 tanks. In 1940 Slovak Army ordered 10 tanks, which were used in Operation Barbarossa. Two tanks were destroyed, other 8 tanks later returned to Slovakia. After that, Slovak Army ordered another 27 tanks, and when Germans started withdrawing Panzer 38(t) tanks, Slovak Army received another 37 tanks from Germany. 13 tanks of this type were used by slovak insurgents during the Slovak National Uprising in 1944.

#second world war #world war ii #world war 2 #military history #wwii #history #german history #czechoslovakia #tank warfare #tanks #military equipment #panzer 38

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