#british police scanners

[iknowsescapingjourneys]

(A/N: I have literally never written a fan fiction in my life so this is going to be an adventure. I have an eighteen chapter series planned for this if things go well. I am a white girl that grew up in the middle of nowhere, USA, so if I get any British slang wrong or accidentally mess up something when it comes to his culture, please correct me! I am completely open to concrit.

Other than that, there’s not many triggers in this chapter. Kinda new to Tumblr, I was an embarrassing teenager the last time, pls don’t look at my posts, so I don’t know what needs to be tagged. There’s some fighting, but nothing graphic or gory. Mentions of theft. That’s about it. I am going off of the interview with the directors that say that he is an adult, and there will be smut in later chapters.

Please let me know what you think! I will also do requests for one-shots if anyone has anything in particular they’d like to see.)

Reckless Driving

Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader

Chapter 1

The crunch of glass beneath the PVC of Doc Martins seems to become an increasingly familiar sound. The stretch and curl of fingers in her gloves causes the sound of metal claws scraping together to echo through the showroom of the commercial jewelry store, barely audible as an alarm blares heavily above her head. The night vision equipped in her helmet makes it easy to see the glass case she’s peering down at, and with a slam of a gloved, clawed fist, the barrier shatters into a hundred sharp, sparkling pieces that fall to the floor and the display below. Claws curl easily around necklaces and rings, dropping them into the cargo pockets of her pants.

She knows how long it takes the police to show up, and she knows that she has three minutes left, if she’s lucky. She’s been here longer than she usually prefers to be, having had a difficult time busting the first display open. The police scanner in her ear chatters away, reports of her misconduct and theft a hot topic. She scoots to her left, repeating her earlier process, and zipping up the pocket when it feels heavy against her thigh.

She turns on her heel to dash to the employee exit in the back, but finds herself colliding with something, a mix of blue and red and black. She stumbles back, eyes widening beneath her masked helmet. Her first instinct is Spiderman, who she is more than well acquainted with, and not in any way that could be deemed positive. Her fist flies through the air without thought, stopped short when it’s grabbed mid trajectory and used to push her back into the broken display case. Her back arches to avoid sharp shrapnel, and she kicks a leg up, outsole colliding with a denim clad knee.

Denim? She pauses her onslaught long enough to get a good look at who exactly has wandered into her crime scene. An eyebrow raises beneath the LEDs of her helmet as she takes him in. This, this was not Spiderman. What looked to be heavy liner circled the mask’s eyes, dripping down below the eye holes. The suit was covered in spikes, both built into it and adorned with bracelets, and belts, and even protruding from the leather jacket that hung loosely on his frame. A guitar was strapped across his back, strings messily sprouting from string trees.

She was pulled from her analysis when a heavy boot made contact with her chest, sending her flying back into the cash register of the jewelry store. She could hear sirens approaching over the sound of the alarm screaming, and she knew flashing lights were only moments away. Her eyes flickered back up to the man encroaching on her space like a predator stalking its prey.

“Man, look at the time,” She spouts, notes of sarcasm and nervousness sprinkled throughout her otherwise surprisingly even tone. “Guess I should probably head out.” She continues, throwing her upper body to the side to avoid another well aimed kick. This time she notices the yellow and blue of ladder laced cords.

“Blue laces, huh? Seems like an odd color for someone working with the cops.” She taunts, managing to pull herself over the counter of the cash register, shoving open the door to the back room with her own boot as she backs herself up.

The man seems to pause for a moment, running his eyes over her figure with a look of confused conflict. “Y’know lace code?” He asks, and she can’t help the laugh that bubbles from her throat.

His accent is thick, and it’s immediately apparent to her that he is not from around here, though New York was known to have a melting pot of people. His voice is deep, but not intimidatingly so, and she finds she actually quite likes it, even from the small sampling she’s heard so far. Her eyes glance down to her own laces, strung up in a similar fashion. One side yellow, the other side purple.

“I might,” She finally answers with a grin, knowing that the duration between the question and her answer was probably long enough that he knows she was taken aback by his accent.

She turns the lock to the back exit with clawed fingers, being as delicate and quiet as possible as she continues to attempt to distract him long enough to get herself out the door.

The heel of her palm presses against the metal lever of the doorknob, her eyes locking on a shelving unit just a leg’s distance away.

“I like the pin,” She mentions, gesturing with her head towards the large A of the anarchy symbol adorned on his jacket. When he glances down in an effort to see which one her eyes have locked on, she kicks her leg out, sending the shelf crashing between them, creating a makeshift barrier.

She knows if he’s anything like the Spiderman she’s used to, he’ll make quick work of throwing it to the side, but it’s a divider long enough for her to slam her hand down and barrel out of the metal door keeping her from her motorcycle.

The pads of her non-gloved fingers press down hard on a button strapped to her thigh and the bike roars to life in a brilliant light show, greens and purples illuminating the dark alley. She throws a leg over the seat, straddling across the leather as her foot slams into the gas, lurching forward as the metal door flies open again to reveal the lanky frame of the man she’d fought with moments prior.

By that point though, she was practically a bat out of hell, motorcycle weaving through alleys so fast that she wasn’t much more than a blur. To be fair, she’s well aware that he could probably catch up to her if he wanted to, using the webs to leap from building to building. Track her down, wrap her up, deliver her to the police.

For some reason, it doesn’t surprise her when he doesn’t.

______________________________

He couldn’t be arsed to chase after you, if he was being honest. First of all, this was a chain, and the markups on the shit they sold was enough to make his anarchist blood boil. Combined with the fact that the cops were out to get her, (and he would rather die than be seen working in collaboration with pigs), it seemed less than important to go swinging through a city he wasn’t entirely familiar with to repossess some cliché engagement rings and some overly gaudy necklaces.

So he knew it wasn’t guilt about letting her get away that rattled around in his head a day later. That conclusion lead him to where he was now: staring down at his boots as they moved him through the night, barely cognizant of what was going on around him as he shifted through thoughts that seemed to pop up faster than he could shoo them away, akin to pop-ups on a shady website.

His tongue ran back and forth over the metal of his lip ring, feeling the shift of piercing to flesh with each passing movement. A stem he often found himself utilizing when he was overwhelmed with his own mind.

He’s only pulled from his thoughts when a familiar sound erupts through the silent air from across the park he’s meandering through. His head snaps in the direction of the noise, pierced brows furrowing slightly. The rumble of a bass guitar, clearly played by someone with experienced fingers, because the tune sounded incredible.

Through the light foliage, definitely planted by a city council in order to make the area look more ‘organic’, he was just capable of making out a feminine frame propped on the black plastic playground border. He couldn’t say he recognized the song, but it definitely had an edge to it. A bite. He liked it.

She didn’t seem to notice him as he made his way over, eyes locked on the way her fingers caressed four thick strings, and the way they reverberated as she pulled away from each one, the timbre of each note filling the air.

“A little late to be putting on a show, innit?”

He can’t choke back the laugh that climbs from his chest when her head swings up to make eye contact with him, her fingers stuttering on strings that release a roar upon her mis-strum. He makes note of the way her eyes widen, akin to a deer stuck in the headlights of a car. Clearly she wasn’t used to people stumbling upon her little solo jams.

“Not much of a show.”

The woman in front of him mumbles, her eyes downcast once again in embarrassment, though he was just capable of making out the dusting of blush that adorned the apples of her cheeks. He settled himself on the plastic divider next to her, brushing off a piece of mulch that threatened to fall to the grass outside of its designated area.

“Not sure about that, princess. Can’t say I wasn’t enjoying it.”

He watches her blink a few times, face twisting in confusion a little as she glances up at him. He takes the chance to let his eyes wander the details of her complexion: the little laugh lines on the corners of her lips and nose, the way her eyes shimmer in the dim light of the lamp post, the gloss applied to her lips.

“Princess?”

She asks, and he realizes that she thinks he’s some prat trying to harass her in the middle of the night. He gives an apologetic smile, his lip ring reflecting the lighting and enunciating the gesture.

“Seems like I’m about to make a total cock-up of this whole situation.”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his hand against his forehead, warm flesh brushing cold metal bumps of thick metal captive beads.

“Promise I’m not tryna chat you up. It’s just a ‘abit.”

He watches her frame deflate from the bristled posture it held moments prior, and he relaxes slightly as well, leaning back as palms dig into rough wood shavings. His eyes wander her before he gets to her shirt and the back of his large, ringed hand hits her shoulder.

“You like R&B?”

He asks, fingers gripping on the hem of the black material and pulling it slightly to flatten the material so he can get a better look at it. Her lips twitch in discomfort for a moment, an action he doesn’t miss, and he pulls his hands away, not embarrassed but feeling a little bad for what definitely seemed like harassing this girl now.

“Erykah Badu is the background track to just about every trip I’ve been on.”

She says softly after an extended silence, and the little grin that climbs the corner of her lips is not lost on him. Maybe she wasn’t completely under the impression he’d lost the plot. He pulls his phone from his pocket, glancing at the time.

Then he glances at it again, eyes widening. How had he managed to fuck around until two in the morning? If people weren’t pissed because they were looking for him, they’d be pissed the next morning when he couldn’t drag his arse out of bed.

He was honestly a little disheartened by the fact that he’d managed to absolutely flounder the entire conversation, just to pick himself up right as he had to leave.

“Really should get going. I’m absolutely gutted I couldn’t ‘ear you play more of that bass.”

He says with a grin, long legs pulling to a stand as he tried to remember what direction he’d come from and how to get back. His spidey-senses tingle right before his hand wraps around his wrist, and he yanks it away at the last second out of instinct. She seems dissuaded by the rejection, and he does his best to soothe the burn with a grin.

“Sorry, doll. Just not used to being touched.”

He apologizes, raising horizontally pierced brows as an invitation for her to speak her mind. It’s the least he could do for harassing her and then fucking off right as they started to actually have a conversation.

“Do you think I could have your number?”

He’s no stranger to being hit on. He’s no stranger to being the one to hit on others, either. And he can’t deny that she’s a very beautiful woman. Still, he knows better. This isn’t his universe, and he’s not here to make friends, and especially not here to shag around whatever version of New York this was.

“I’m flattered, really. Can’t say I think that’s the brightest idea though. I could be mad, y’know?”

The woman’s shoulders drop slightly at being pied off, and he reaches out to set a hand on the pewter gray of the shoulder of her shirt.

“Don’t take it personal though, princess. I’ve just got a lot on my shoulders at the moment.”

He reassures, letting his hand drop back down to his side and turning on his heel before he stared at her too long and changed his mind. The last thing he needed to do was find himself attached to a civilian, especially one that he’d have to dimension hop for. The cons far outweighed the pros.

Hobie Brown was a rebel, but he wasn’t daft.

[pawpatroller]

Pups Stops Sticky Fingers

LittleJ-Vampire wanted a Chase story, but I wasn't sure what to write, so I got an idea after watching an old Sherlock Homes movie. If Rubble can have Apollo the Super Pup. Why not a detective pup for Chase? I hope he likes it.

It is a quiet day in Adventure Bay, and the pups decide to play at the park. They stopped by Chase’s pup house and knocked on his room. Chase opens the door wearing a deerstalker hat and a cape. Zuma sees him and starts to laugh. “You look silly dude. We are going to the park. Do you want to come with us?”

Chase shakes his head. “No thanks. A new episode of Sherlock Bones is coming on and I want to see it.”

Zuma laughs. “That’s a little puppy’s show”

Chase shakes his head. “No it isn’t. Sherlock Bones is the world’s greatest detective pup.”

Zuma shrugs. “Whatever dude. We are going to the park.”

Chase watches the pups leave to go to the park. He walks in and flops down on his head. “Zuma doesn’t know what he is talking about. Sherlock Bones is the great detective there is.” He yawns as the show starts. Chase wakes up as the pup tags goes off. “Ryder needs us.” He doesn’t notice he has a British accent like Sherlock Bone does. After Marshall’s wipeout and comedic one line. They head up in the elevator to the command center. All the pups come out in police gear. Chase’s gear is slightly different. Instead of his normal hat. He had a UK police hat. “Paw Patrol ready for action Ryder sir.”

Ryder nods. “Thanks for hurrying pups. “Someone has robbed the Adventure Bay Bank and left behind a strange goop. So I am designating this an Ultimate Rescue Mission Police style. Chase since you are our resident police pup. You will lead this mission.” Chase runs for the slide and goes down. He lands in his police truck and then goes down. The rest of the pieces of his Ultimate Rescue truck is added to his truck and then the Lookout lifts up. Chase drives out. He waits on the rest of the pups come down the slide and lands in their places. Chase drives to Adventure Bay with Ryder behind him on his ATV. He pulls up to the bank. “Rocky use your scanner to see if you can pick up any clues to who did it.”

Rocky jumps down. “Arff Scanner.” He looks around. “I see small piles of goop from the front door to the sidewalk and then nothing.”

Chase and the rest of the pups go inside. Marshall wasn’t looking where he was going and stepped in one of the piles of goop and face plants. “Whoa that is one sticky, ooey, gooey, gluey goop.”

Zuma laugh. “Bet you can’t say that fast three times.” Marshall tries and gets very tongue tied. Marshall and the pups laugh. “Told you so.”

Chase sniffs the goop and sneezes. “There is something very familiar about all of this, but I can’t remember what it is.” He looks at the pups. “Keep looking around and see if you can find any clues.” He turns to Ryder. “I need to go back to the Lookout. I think I know who can help out.” Chase jumps on Ryder’s ATV and they head to the Lookout.

When they get to the Lookout. Ryder looks at Chase. “Who are you going to call?”

Chase looks at Ryder. “The greatest detective pup there is. Sherlock Bones. If anyone knew who is behind this. He would be the one to help figure it out.” He heads upstairs and makes a video call to 221 B Barker Street.

Sherlock Bones appears on the screen. “Hello Chase. What can I do for my number one fan?”

Chase looks at the screen, “Hi Mr. Bones sir. I’ve got a problem and I need some help.”

Sherlock smiles. “You can call me Sherlock. What seems to be the problem?”

Chase nods. “Well there is a bank here that got robbed recently and whoever did it. Left behind piles of a glue like goop on the floor and counters. It seems familiar to me, but I can’t figure out why.”

Sherlock nods and blows into his pipe causing bubbles to come out. “It sounds like the notorious cat burglar Sticky Fingers is behind this. Give me a moment to look though my case files and I call you back in a few minutes.” Sherlock ends the call and goes to look through his case files with his assistant Dr. Watson. Chase paces a bit waiting on Sherlock to call him back.

Chase’s pup tag beeps. “Do you have any idea who is behind this?”

Chase answers back. “Yes I think so. Sherlock Bones thinks it could be a notorious cat burglar Sticky Fingers. He is looking through his case files to make sure.”

Zuma answers back. “If it is a cat. Shouldn’t it be Sticky Paws? Because cats don’t have fingers?”

Chase shrugs. “I guess. I’ll be back there in a little bit.” He ends the call as the screen beeps. Chase answers the call. “What did you find out?”

Sherlock puts a picture up on the screen. “Did the piles look like these?”

Chase nods. “Yes they did. Same color and shape.”

Sherlock nods. “I figured as much. It is Sticky Fingers alright. She is a very crafty burglar and will be hard to catch, but I know you can do it. If you need any more help. I’m a call away and good luck.” He ends the call.

Chase goes back to where the pups were and filled them in on what they were up against. He sniffs near the area there the goop stopped. “She went that way.” Pointing towards the museum. They head towards the museum. They get there just as Sticky Fingers was leaving with some painting” Stop in the name of the law. You are under arrest for bank robbery and painting thefts.”

Sticky Fingers turns to face Chase. “You will never catch me gumshoe.”

Marshall looks around. “Who has gum on the shoe?”

Sticky Fingers rolls her eyes. “It is an expression you idiot. It means detective. I’ve got to go back to Wolf Hampton. If I stay here much longer. I’m going to lose my cunning wits.”

Chase looks at Sticky Fingers. “Don’t talk about Marshall like that. He is my best friend. As for going back to Wolf Hampton. You will be going back in a kennel to Barkland Yard.”

Sticky Fingers’ concentration was interrupted by something small running past her. She turns her head and sees a toy mouse going by. Then another. She turns back to Chase. “That is low even for a dog.”

Chase smiles. “What’s wrong. Doesn’t kitty like mice? How about this. “Yarn ball launcher.” He launches some yard balls and Sticky Fingers tries to resist the yard balls, but her cat instincts wins out an she goes chasing the yarn balls right into the cage Rocky had built.

Sticky Fingers snaps out of her cat behavior when she hears the cage door shut and lock. “Curses on you and your friends. You have not seen the last of me. I will be back.”

Chase smiles. “And we will be here to stop you.”

As Sticky Fingers is carried away by two of Barkland Yard officers Sherlock Bones appears. “Good job on capturing Sticky Fingers. For going above and beyond in the capture of the notorious Sticky Fingers. I bestow the highest honor on you. The Wolf Fang medal and the title of Junior Detective First Class. The pups cheer for Chase. The voices get louder and then change. Chase feels something poking him and then Ryder’s voice. “Chase, it is dinner time.”

Chase looks around and sees he is on his bed in the Lookout. “It was all a dream.” He stands up and stretches. Something clangs against his pup tag. It was the Wolf Fang medal from his dream. “Maybe it wasn’t a dream after all.”

[mlobsters]

supernatural s12e14 somewhere between heaven and hell (w. davy perez)

something to be said that they've managed to make me dislike the british mol plotline in new and exciting ways

SAM Yeah. Dude, why don’t you take a shower and change your clothes. You’ve been wearing the same pair of boxers for four days. DEAN Okay, one, weird that you know how much underwear I packed. SAM That’s what’s weird about this? DEAN And B, it’s two and two. Doesn’t count if you flip ‘em inside out.

okay, gross, dean-o. but also, sam, he's got you there, that is in fact weird.

goddamnit davy. i was willing to let it die that i couldn't figure out what paul reiser uses in mad about you (1->B or A->2) because even after literally watching several full episodes and handfuls of clips i couldn't find an instance of it but now i'm gonna end up doing it again. reminded me though i had forgotten about the occasional crossovers with friends it had, via phoebe/ursula (mostly). and also i love helen hunt

SAM Same as the others. I-I made a computer algorithm that scrapes data from police scanners, emergency calls, uh, local news sites, and then it puts everything through a h--

[Dean stares at Sam] SAM The computer told me. DEAN Computers. Monsters, porn. Is there anything they can't do?

i'm staring at sam for different reasons -_- stupid lies, stupid bmol

DEAN I'm using that fancy shampoo you keep hidden from me.

should make a tag for all the things that i thought were fanon but turn out to be canon

cas with the tabloid giving the goofy xfiles vibes, following up with the manager and the reptilian alien theory

HERB Most sheeple can't handle the truth. But not me. I'm woke. It's why I don't use, uh, new tech. Anything past '96, it's a trap. You know…Palm Pilot. It's more like Tracking Device. Am I right?

made me laugh out loud. another blast from the past. i tried to use an old first generation palm pilot but i just couldn't get the swing of putting shit down anywhere because i didn't use an organizer on paper either. wasn't until my memory went to (even more) shit and i could put things in my calendar and have my phone scream at me about it did i really appreciate it

they've been giving them better fitted suits lately, both lookin sharp

DEAN Tell her what? No, seriously, Sam, what are you gonna say? “Hi, my name is Sam Winchester. This is my much handsomer brother Dean. We hunt monsters. Oh, and that guy you were banging? We're pretty sure he made a deal with a demon, so a hellhound came and dragged his soul to Hell. But you? You're cool. And since there's nothing around for us to kill, peace out.”

much handsomer :p

it's funny how i have zero faith in crowley's ability to keep lucifer locked up. maybe that's the point. but it's kind of sad :p i like how clever and wily crowley can be, but they've done a good job building up lucifer (to me, and i basically ignore what he did jumping around meatsuits recently 🤪)

they're sure doing a thing with these two

did this hellhound get out and go rogue because crowley's too busy playing with lucifer?

ah funny, this angel kelvin is in the boys too - 32 episodes! as black noir

CROWLEY Right after God said, “Let there be light,” he -- he made a whole bunch of things -- posies, koalas, hellhounds. He wanted The Creator's best friend, but the hounds were too vicious. So he planned on having them all put down, until along came our favorite fallen angel. He rescued one of the hounds -- a pregnant bitch named Ramsey. DEAN Why don't you just tell her to heel? CROWLEY I can't control her. No one can. She's loyal only to Lucifer.

the snort of derision i just made. so ridiculous

DEAN Great. So we have a hellhound who's gunning for revenge, and it's personal. Ah. Just when I thought this gig couldn't get any weirder… CROWLEY Oh. It can always get weirder.

-_-

DEAN You tend to ride the brakes. SAM Dean, I know how to drive. DEAN I'm just saying. Okay, just imagine she's a… a beautiful woman. SAM Oh, come on. Get out of here. DEAN A beautiful, beautiful woman. SAM I'm done. DEAN Sam… CROWLEY Ew.

somewhere someone surely has kept track of how many times sam has driven baby because it's been a decent amount :p like leaning into a fandom trope

CASTIEL Joshua. I thought he stepped aside. KELVIN He did. But like I said, all hands on deck situation. Imagine it, Castiel -- free to come and go as you please, part of your family, your true family, again. Look… the Gardener's got a plan. All we ask is that you hear us, hear him out. For the greater good.

(another person who says castiel how i expected it to be said, CASStiel as opposed to castiEL) ok more heavenly politics i'll forget but i like this guy more at least and cas being healthily and visibly skeptical helps. joshua, gardener, ok. like the dude they talked to in heaven in s5? 🥴

DEAN Yeah, well, I guess we've all changed. I got predictable. You got soft. I mean, a few years ago, who'd have thought you'd be helping us save the girl of the week? CROWLEY I don't care about her. DEAN Yeah, well, maybe we rubbed off on you. CROWLEY Don't flatter yourself. DEAN You saved Cas.

took an absurd amount of scraping through memories to figure out what that was. i was like oh when crowley gave him the grace that he was dying from lack of? no that was a long time ago, surely there's something more recent. oh right, snapping the .... lance of michael? to stop cas from rotting all of *checks notes* 3 episodes ago in 12x12

CROWLEY Just to spare myself the Winchester Manpain-- you lot moping about like a bunch of schoolgirls. DEAN Well, I just wanna say thank you. CROWLEY Or…a few years ago, who would've thought you'd be working with the King of Hell? Maybe you've rubbed off on me. Maybe I've rubbed off all over you.

deflect from being called out on doing something good by being gross, of course :p also a move in dean's repertoire

GWEN I… I don't think I even know what “okay” means anymore. Marcus… going camping was my idea. I took him out there even though I knew. I knew it was over. I liked Marcus. He was sweet and kind. And he loved me. More than I ever loved him. More than… If I'd just told him… If I… Why couldn't I just tell him the truth? SAM Gwen… GWEN Yeah, but I didn't. [Voice breaking] I lied. I lied to make things easier. I… I'm sorry. I… We should go.

not sure what the point of that was other than an excuse to have them pulled over and not moving, give her another emotional scene

hopefully pretty girl of the week will feel less guilty since she saved sam from the hellhound long enough that he could kill it

CROWLEY You make me your dog, I'll make you my slave. That chain around your neck? Was nothing. A stylish accessory. This vessel… That's your true prison. It's been warded with runes and spellwork from the Cage, carved into every molecule. In there? I own you.

CASTIEL She’s with Dagon, Prince of Hell.

answers my princess question

are you making good choices, castiel? 🧐 going to heaven without telling sam and dean what's going on doesn't seem like the best choice but what do i know

DEAN Mm, is that your computer talking to you again? SAM Uh… No. Um… It's, uh… Mick Davies. DEAN What? SAM Dean… I don't have a computer program feeding me cases. I-I, uh… Gwen? Every job we've worked in the last two weeks? They've come from the British Men of Letters. DEAN Really? SAM Yeah. I didn't tell you 'cause I know how much you hate them. DEAN No, we hate them. Us. Together.

have heard the we/us thing

SAM I-I get that. Yeah, I do. But -- but… Dean, because of Mick and his guys, the Alpha Vampire is dead. They get results. I don't like them either, but-- but if-- if we can save people, then it… Either way, I-I shouldn't have lied to you. And… I'm sorry, man. I-I… DEAN Well, okay. SAM Okay? DEAN What do you want me to say? Do I like it? No. Do I trust them? Hell, no. But you're right. We work with people we don't trust all the time. I mean, hell, I just Liam Neeson'd it up with Crowley. So if you wanna give this a shot, then… [ Scoffs ] Fine. But the minute-- and I mean the second-- something feels off, we bail. SAM Yeah. Of course. Deal.

look at them, they're so mature now! talking things out almost right away, apologizing for the lying, dean being reasonable in listening to sam's argument and agreeing with him despite the strong feelings. so proud

[zooterchet]

Spider-Man:

Online Arrests Filed, through "Glamour Girl":

1996: Andrew Wachowski, "nil".

1997: Carrie-Anne Moss, "Damn-Yankee".

1998: Brian Monaghan, "qwerty".

1999: Keanu Reeves, "Howie".

2000: Rich Kyanka, "Toggan".

2001: Anthony Weiner, "Betty".

2002: Larry Wachowski, "Apathy".

2003: Hugh Jackman, "Ghul".

2004: Sayed Adnan, "Petula".

Hannibal Rising:

Michael Charlebois: "Cain", a spy's accountant, out of "Chutzpah", a political artist.

Alice O'Neill: "Kilpatrick", a female spy, out of "U'Niall", a spy's slaver.

Kenny Winston: "Weinstein", a Gentile's banker, out of "Cromwell", a German fire fighter.

Ryan Taylor: "Gaylord", a Buddhist assassin, out of "Polk", an optometrist.

Katie Stevens: "Stevenson", a Jamaican drug runner, out of "Alexander", a Macedonian inventor.

Matthew Lennox: "Satan", a Jewish king, out of "Nigger", a Parisian actor's mother to Scipio Africanus.

John Remby: "Roosevelt", a poverty demanded leader, out of "Alexander", a Macedonian inventor.

Pasquale Acosta: "Ibn Rashid", a Medina Arab, out of "Princeps", a Central Powers mercenary.

William Morgan: "Davis", a Southern cotton obsessive, out of "Hamilton", a treasurer's informant's officer.

Mark Salib: "Harding", a munitions developer, out of "Gilgamesh", a sugar salesman.

Cassie-Leigh Stock: "Donalban", a Puerto Rican Aryan, out of "Gould", a fascist writer for Francisco Franco.

Alexandra Gaetano: "Crowley", an Irish priest, out of "Brian", the victim of Christ.

Jenna Williamson: "Bundy", a Canadian spy, out of "Booth", a Mossad hired assassin.

Zach Savell: "Morales", a firefighter's inventor, out of "Aragorn", the first cowboy.

Maureen Harrison: "Harrison", a poisoner artist Gadze, out of "Cornwallace", a disgraced general.

Jen McDade: "Aensley", a British banker, out of "Lemerise", a British cop family.

Jeremy Stevens: "Mosley", a Group Force Leader, out of "Oswald", a British undercover agent.

Raven Bush: "Desperado", a Comanche Sheriff, out of "Joseph", a defeated Greek.

David Cohen: "Adolph", a German Turkish spy, out of "Ataturk", a cigarettes salesman.

Nicholas Maynard: "Hayes", a patent swindler, out of "Bourbon", a female transgender.

Allison Haimes: "Chi Minh", a CIA undercover, out of "The Duke of York", a professional British knife fighter.

Greg Connolly: "Visser", an Afrikaans Irish, out of "Lan Ray", a Boer Holocaust victim.

Brian Monaghan: "Myers", a KGB Ireland, out of "Carnegie", a Scottish Knight.

Ivan Tomasic: "Dahmer", a professional first strike mutually assured destruction pilot, out of "Ljudovich", an Austrian Black Shirt.

Christopher Sweeney: "Sween", a Black Baron Schultzstaffel, out of "Washington", a Romalian Boelyn.

Joshua Moen: "Van Zant", a professional raconteur assassin, out of "Chaucer", a Knight's Guard.

Bernice Lamb: "De Salvo", a Nietzschean Ubermensch, out of "Panzram", a sculptor author.

Joshua Golden: "Eshkol", an intelligence programs founder, out of "Mosaic", a Hittite Prince.

Uma Thurman: "Magnusdotter", a bodybuilder assassin, out of "Catherine", a surmised monarch.

Joseph Biden: "Capone", a police officer criminal, out of "James of Scotland", a legal reformer.

Lloyd Ahlquist: "Agnew", a Rabbinical entomologist, out of "Bin Laden", a prison convicts manager.

Will Ferrell: "Adams", a carnival's lover, out of "Pedro II", a harbormaster.

Joseph Kennedy III: "Kenway", a pork meats distributor, out of "Kennedy", a Tepes, a cannibal.

Star Wars Episode 1-3:

Leadership:

"Duo": Shaun Wilcox, Hawaiian Coastal Engineer, US Navy Japan.

"Libra": James Holmes, DC Comics Development, Mossad Counter-Bay Station.

"Leo": Jeffrey Lange, Cleveland Rotary Association, Finance and Debitures Apartment.

Duo:

"Blueberry": Police code on APB scanner, to catch "ranger patrols", off cented Mounted and Royal Mounted sections (Canadian-German, Protestant Universalist).

"WTC Location Grab": Profiling of Osama Bin Laden, three days after 9/11, to DC Comics Location and Transition Wards, Mossad Afghanistan; Tora Bora Prison Complex.

"San Andreas": Capture of Toris Nelby, British Co Anchor Author, "Crack Underground"; while in live transit of threat of CIA agent Peter Tsapatsaris, "Nails", posing as "Peebo" on internet as fraud of Russian-Jewry infiltrating CIA Annex Three; Winchester Frauds, IDF Biotech Experiments. Toris Nelby, "Peebo", detained and "destroyed", by fired rounds, from Eric Frein.

Libra:

"British Exemplar": Takeover of Japan by Warerra Party, masquerading Clone Wars film, recently released, by "Lucas Arts", as actual factual plan of attack; Pearl Harbor, as represented by "Kleinmen", Rohypnol dealers for Mossad.

"Gutwill Five": Seizure of criminal resources and allies of Framingham Narcotics, rogue Israeli Defense Forces section of Massachusetts cops, out of Jewish gangsters in Ohio; biker gangs, Canadian Freemasons.

Leo:

"Assassin's Creed": Creation of Assassin's Creed concept, as alternative to parents pamphlets to place children in Mossad underground as "Moslems" or "Mussulman".

"Guantanamo Live Range Agent": Use of third degree interrogator's training from mother's Marine NCO doctor, "Glen", to hunt his killers inside INTERPOL's top ranks; Gwenn Pratt, John Washburne, Steven Charlebois, Brian Monaghan, Alexandra Gaetano, and John Kerry.

"Philips Freemasons of Boston": Stage point of removal of Ted Bundy catchem code, to take over Boston Triads for FBI and State Police, through Cyber Command aegis helix on Los Angeles Police Department server scans; return of Chinese to American policing, as FBI informants and cover agents, against rising tide of Taiwanese nationalism; unions and Russian-Jewish consortiums of film and media logic.

"Pinkville": The strike on the Hell's Angels as a capture turn of the Canadian Freemasons for operating criminal ventures in factories, sports leagues, and boarding schools, to turn children into slaves and writers and prison convicts; the French and British Freemasonic attempt to undo Bill Clinton's peace for labor, athletics, and prison inmates.

"Hideous Karl": Use of Jack Unterweger's serial killer profile, tying a necktie for a business meeting, taught by Scoutmasters in male and female scout troops, for any career or American act, to pen research work for Christopher Nolan, MGM, and FOX.

"The Steroids Scandal": Outing American-Japanese pharmaceuticals, and MI-6 doctors, for selling performance enhancing steroids, Suboxone, for decades, under different brands and claim of brands; the public lawsuit against Dr. Joshua Golden, of United Health Associates, by the Attorney General of Massachusetts, Maura Healey.

"The Kennedy Campaign": Legalized marijuana, certified safe and non-sprayed by tree surgeons elected by towns, free from media myth presented on Holland and British telecasts, or by journalist work by High Times magazines authors. Held under tax stamps, through the State Police.

"Spiral": The culmination of three decades of work, as an NSA, from kindergarten to the mid-thirties, in the takedowns of INTERPOL, On Leong Tong, the Unitarian Church, and MI-6. The culmination of years of experience, placed in two blog reformatories, "Lex Luthor and the Sudbury Boys", and "Spiral - The Batman Killer", the prior academic references, the latter actual career references. The shutdown of the "United Nations Security Council", by planting a forged work on American Marxism from 2003, from an economics business professor at UMass-Amherst, Gerald Friedman, through the actual United Nations; published independently overseas, by those dependent on the United Nations as an American CIA entity; falsely framed as MI-6. The same NSA trick, used on Stephen Glass, a Vatican affiliated lawyer out of the Italian government's Nortel structure.

Spiral:

Joshua Moen: Keep the President's secret about Raven Bush getting stoned, or Cam Hollopeter marries your wife. But you don't have a wife, you're in love with Superman. Not Batman.

Method: Men's writing and literature styles, conflict terms of endearment in imago transformation.

Keanu Reeves: Clear Ben Brown of raping Raven Bush, or place yourself in perpetuity of your film, "The Matrix 1", being owned by the Crown Government.

Method: RTS counselor first sight response, however on public Majesty's review in Court.

Jenna Williamson: Place wired testimony through VFW, and accept your draft into the United States photographic corps unit for an upcoming military conflict.

Method: Coverage of the USS Cole bombing, being varied into a "K", the "Kierney" Amish mark on Marlboro cigarettes.

Ben Brown: Admit into economics program despite not earning a valedictorian's GPA through gymnastic and academic marks in highschool, or a military tour on apprenticeship to warrant officer status.

Method: US Presidential merits and statuses of badge, passed, during freshman year orientation.

Matthew Lennox: Separation from Raven Bush, under her alias, "Silver Laventi", at UMass-Amherst; attempting to engage for Elks Club, the Drake family, to remove from David's vicinity and allow him to take a law career for the Winchester CIA undercover in Israeli biotech medical testing on "Goyim", humans that have done DXM.

Method: Interjection through a Coen, the "Chutzpah" family, and placement of Raven inside the German underground as a medical advisor.

Peter Tsapatsaris: Outing that the name and alias used, is false, linking instead to a black drug dealer murdered on the MUSH.

Method: Interpreting with the actual alias, as the individual being extorted by the claimed name, out of Brian Monaghan's connection to NEWS Harvard, the studio print for the Boston Herald.

Brett Norman: Moving between ExSec operations controller, Andre Berube, after being recruited for role, and a permanent incarceration in Pembroke, watched by Steven "The Rifle" Flemmi.

Method: Placement in Pembroke military ward facility, to remove Rhode Island judge in league with Israeli Medical Authority.

The Matrix:

British Commonwealth (UK) Positions:

Boris Yeltsin: Claim, working through America for economic reestablishment.

Elie Wiesel: Claim, working to prevent anti-Semitism in United States.

Stan Lee: Claim, working in an MI-6 brand to teach police morals.

Queen Elizabeth II: Claim, defending British Isles against Adolf Hitler's traditions.

George W. Bush Jr.: Claim, Shriner's Freemasonic Lodge of England.

Federal Republic of Germany (FRG) Roles:

Boris Yeltsin: National Rifle Association.

Elie Wiesel: Romalian Federation.

Stan Lee: Hitler Youth.

Queen Elizabeth II: Catholic-Sepulchre Jewish Orthodoxy.

George W. Bush Jr.: Kaiser's Lodge.

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 10.1 (after 1950)

1953 – Andhra State is formed, consisting of a Telugu-speaking area carved out of India's Madras State. 1953 – A United States-South Korea mutual defense treaty is concluded in Washington, D.C. 1955 – The Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region is established. 1957 – The motto In God We Trust first appears on U.S. paper currency. 1958 – The National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics is replaced by NASA. 1960 – Nigeria gains independence from the United Kingdom. 1961 – The United States Defense Intelligence Agency is formed, becoming the country's first centralized military intelligence organization. 1961 – East and West Cameroon merge to form the Federal Republic of Cameroon. 1961 – The CTV Television Network, Canada's first private television network, is launched. 1962 – James Meredith enters the University of Mississippi, defying racial segregation rules. 1964 – The Free Speech Movement is launched on the campus of the University of California, Berkeley. 1964 – Japanese Shinkansen ("bullet trains") begin high-speed rail service from Tokyo to Osaka. 1966 – West Coast Airlines Flight 956 crashes with no survivors in Oregon. This accident marks the first loss of a DC-9. 1968 – Guyana nationalizes the British Guiana Broadcasting Service, which would eventually become part of the National Communications Network, Guyana. 1969 – Concorde breaks the sound barrier for the first time. 1971 – Walt Disney World opens near Orlando, Florida. 1971 – The first practical CT scanner is used to diagnose a patient. 1975 – Muhammad Ali defeats Joe Frazier in a boxing match in Manila, Philippines. 1978 – Tuvalu gains independence from the United Kingdom. 1979 – Pope John Paul II begins his first pastoral visit to the United States. 1979 – The MTR, Hong Kong's rapid transit railway system, opens. 1982 – Helmut Kohl replaces Helmut Schmidt as Chancellor of Germany through a constructive vote of no confidence. 1982 – EPCOT (Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow) opens at Walt Disney World in Florida. 1982 – Sony and Phillips launch the compact disc in Japan; on the same day, Sony releases the model CDP-101 compact disc player, the first player of its kind. 1985 – Israel-Palestinian conflict: Israel attacks the Palestine Liberation Organization's Tunisia headquarters during Operation Wooden Leg. 1987 – The 5.9 Mw  Whittier Narrows earthquake shakes the San Gabriel Valley with a Mercalli intensity of VIII (Severe), killing eight and injuring 200. 1989 – Denmark introduces the world's first legal same-sex registered partnerships. 1991 – Croatian War of Independence: The Siege of Dubrovnik begins. 1994 – Palau enters a Compact of Free Association with the United States. 2000 – Israel-Palestinian conflict: Palestinians protest the murder of 12-year-old Muhammad al-Durrah by Israeli police in northern Israel, beginning the "October 2000 events". 2001 – Militants attack the state legislature building in Kashmir, killing 38. 2009 – The Supreme Court of the United Kingdom takes over the judicial functions of the House of Lords. 2012 – A ferry collision off the coast of Hong Kong kills 38 people and injures 102 others. 2014 – A series of explosions at a gunpowder plant in Bulgaria completely destroys the factory, killing 15 people. 2014 – A double bombing of an elementary school in Homs, Syria kills over 50 people. 2015 – A gunman kills nine people at a community college in Oregon. 2015 – Heavy rains trigger a major landslide in Guatemala, killing 280 people. 2015 – The American cargo vessel SS El Faro sinks with all of its 33 crew after steaming into the eyewall of Hurricane Joaquin 2017 – An independence referendum, later declared illegal by the Constitutional Court of Spain, takes place in Catalonia. 2017 – Fifty-eight people are killed and 869 others injured in a mass shooting at a country music festival at the Las Vegas Strip in the United States; the gunman, Stephen Paddock, later commits suicide. 2018 – The International Court of Justice rules that Chile is not obliged to negotiate access to the Pacific Ocean with Bolivia.

[whereareroo]

DC TO MADRID

WF UPDATE (6/26/23).

Hello from Madrid, Spain.

Madrid is nowhere near El Camino. For reasons that I’m about to explain, we’ve had a six hour layover here. I’ve decided to do a quick update to use some of the time.

There is a time difference of six hours between Spanish time and the time on the east coast of America. When it’s Noon in NYC it’s 6:00 p.m. in Spain.

GC1 and I departed from Dulles Airport near Washington D.C. We were supposed to depart at 4:30 p.m. and, after an 7.5 hour flight, arrive in Madrid at 6:00 a.m. Get it?

Our departure was two hours late. Thus, we didn’t hit Madrid until 8:00 a.m. this morning.

From Madrid, we need to take a train to the start of our hike in Leon. There are two daily trains: 11:10 a.m. and 2:40 p.m. We were shooting for the early train. That plan was ruined by the two hour delay. After clearing customs in Madrid and retrieving our disposable carry on bag (containing only our knives and walking poles), it was 9:30 a.m. before I got to the train depot to buy tickets. The morning train to Leon was already sold out. So, we gained a few hours to explore the neighborhood surrounding the main train station in Madrid.

Madrid is the capital of Spain. The area near the train station doesn’t look like part of a capital city. We only saw one large governmental building. It’s old. It’s gritty. It’s quiet. It’s less sophisticated than I expected. This area isn’t home to any big banks or any big law firms. It’s not a cultural center either.

Don’t get me wrong. I liked the neighborhood just fine. We had a nice breakfast at an outdoor cafe. This area just doesn’t have any zing. It’s ordinary. If the rest of Madrid is like this, it’s not worthy of a special trip. Nonetheless, I was OK with the fact that we had a few hours to kill near the Madrid train depot. I like to visit new places.

Truth be told, we were lucky that we only had a two hour delay. We flew Iberia Airlines from Dulles to Madrid. The day before our departure, after several hours of delays, a British Airways flight from Dulles to Madrid was cancelled. Our flight was filled with unhappy British Airways customers who were more than a full day behind schedule. They weren’t happy.

Thus far, besides the manageable two hour delay and related fallout, the only other travel problem we experienced was the confiscation of one of my knives by the Spanish train police. For very specific reasons, I bring three knives on these hikes. I know that I can’t carry them onto a plane. That’s one of the reasons that I check a disposable bag. After we retrieved the checked bag at the airport, we latched our walking poles onto our backpacks, threw the knives into my pack, and dumped the suitcase. It never dawned on me that there would be big time security for the high speed train to Leon. It’s the same drill that’s done at airports, except there’s no sign itemizing banned items. As we approached the scanner, everyone was just throwing their whole bag onto the conveyor belt. So, I threw my backpack onto the belt. The reaction by the train police was so severe that folks must have thought I had an atomic bomb in my backpack. I didn’t realize what they were screaming in Spanish. I soon learned that they were screaming: “KNIFE, KNIFE, KNIFE !!” They escorted me, and GC1, into a secure room. In broken Spanish, I explained that I was about to hike El Camino and that I had three small knives. They didn’t care! I had to put all three knives out on the table for measurement by the loudest train cop. With grand hand motions, as if she was handling a machete, the Knife Nazi announced that one of the knives was way, way too big. She immediately confiscated it and locked it into a big metal lockbox. Having flexed her law enforcement muscles, she cooled down and let me keep the other two knives. It was quite the scene.

Right now, we’re enjoying some peace on the high speed train to Leon. GC1 is so peaceful that he’s sound asleep. The train ride will take two hours. Then, it’s a 15 minute walk to our hotel in Leon.

We don’t start the hike tomorrow. We’ll spend the day exploring Leon and recovering from jet lag. I’ll probably tell you about Leon tomorrow. Stay tuned. Welcome aboard.

[rhetoricandlogic]

Oops, I Just Bought a Planet: Norstrilia by Cordwainer Smith

Alan Brown Wed Jun 8, 2022 11:00am

In this bi-weekly series reviewing classic science fiction and fantasy books, Alan Brown looks at the front lines and frontiers of the field; books about soldiers and spacers, scientists and engineers, explorers and adventurers. Stories full of what Shakespeare used to refer to as “alarums and excursions”: battles, chases, clashes, and the stuff of excitement.

One of the lesser-known gems of the science fiction world in the mid-20th century is the work of author Cordwainer Smith. He brought an international flavor to a science fiction field that, for all its creativity, was deeply rooted in the culture and conventions of the United States. His stories of the Instrumentality of Mankind were intriguing, giving the reader science fiction tales with the storytelling conventions of fantasy and legend. And in the centerpiece of this future history, the novel Norstrilia, he brought young and naïve Rod McBan to the mysterious and dangerous planet called Earth.

As I recollect, the copy of Norstrilia I used for this review is the copy I bought about a year after graduating from college, and according to the title page is the third Del Rey edition, printed in 1978. That date would put my purchase in the Alaskan town of Sitka, a tiny seacoast community accessible only by air or water. There was only one bookstore in the tiny town, right across the main street from the Russian Orthodox church with its onion-dome spires. Fortunately for me, the store had a good selection of paperback science fiction that turned over regularly.

The work of Cordwainer Smith was not new to me when I found Norstrilia, as I had read some of his work in my dad’s Galaxy magazines during my youth. I had always found his stories intriguing, if a bit strange compared to the more straightforward adventures I was used to reading in Analog.

About the Author

Paul Myron Anthony Linebarger (1913-1966), who wrote science fiction under the name Cordwainer Smith, was an author and scholar who wrote influential works on psychological warfare and on East Asian politics. He was born in Wisconsin, and lived during his youth in the United States, Europe, Japan, and China, reportedly attending more than thirty schools. He spoke multiple languages, and attained a PhD at age 23. He began writing science fiction in college in the late 1920s, although his stories didn’t start appearing in the leading magazines until the late 1940s.

Commissioned as a lieutenant during WWII, Linebarger served in Army Intelligence in China and India, rising to the rank of major. He remained in the reserves, eventually attaining the rank of colonel. He was recalled to aid the British in a Malaysian guerrilla conflict, and recalled again during the Korean War. He was a professor at Johns Hopkins University, but is also reported to have been a behind-the-scenes advisor to the CIA and the US government.

Most of Linebarger’s science fiction work was set in a unique and evocative future history, the Instrumentality of Mankind. By using unusual terms and names without much explanation, he created the impression this universe was much larger than what appeared within the pages of the stories (I will have to dip into Linebarger’s other stories to find out what Mother Hinton’s Littul Kittons are, for example). This was a society that was anything but a utopia: so advanced that much of its science was akin to magic, with a hereditary ruling class, a brutal police state to enforce their will, space pilots called “scanners” whose brains were damaged by their work, and animals called the “underpeople” raised to human intelligence and near-human appearance, but treated as slaves. One of the programs of the Instrumentality was the Rediscovery of Man, which was intended to strengthen humanity and reduce stagnation by reintroducing disease and unrest to society. The human economy was dominated by stroon, a drug which extended life, and was only available from giant diseased sheep grown on the planet Norstrilia.

Linebarger’s body of science fiction work was not large, as he lived a busy life and died at the relatively young age of fifty-three. He wrote only a handful of novels, Norstrilia being the most widely known, and about three dozen short stories.

You can find some of Smith’s work on Project Gutenberg, including “The Game of Rat and Dragon,” one of his better-known stories, and some of his non-fictional works, including the seminal book Psychological Warfare.

Cordwainer Smith is not to be confused with Cordwainer Bird, a pseudonym sometimes used by science fiction author Harlan Ellison (the fact that a cordwainer is a kind of cobbler, and birds do not need shoes, amused Ellison). The use of this pseudonym was then made even more confusing when author Philip José Farmer began using the name for a fictional character in some of his own works.

The Lonely Protagonist

Rod McBan is a lonely protagonist, pulled out of his own world and culture with little to no notice, and thrust into a world he only dimly understands. And while reading Norstrilia, I realized that, while he is a lonely character, he is far from alone in the field of science fiction. The genre is full of characters who are orphaned, exiled, or just plain don’t fit in. When you consider that Linebarger spent his youth in many countries and dozens of schools, it is not surprising that he could skillfully depict someone who feels apart from his surroundings.

The frequency of lonely heroes in science fiction might be due to the prevalence of the familiar story structure known as the Hero’s Journey, which has appeared in literature throughout human history. One of the characteristics many mythical adventures share is the removal of the protagonist from the world they grew up in or are comfortable with. Looking through the books I have reviewed over the years for this column, I found that about a third of them feature a character that might fit the description of a lonely protagonist. Of course, being lonely does not mean that the characters are alone, as they encounter mentors, antagonists, guides, and love interests in the course of their journeys.

I’ve also noticed that many of the readers of science fiction share characteristics of loneliness with the fictional protagonists they follow. This type of character might be so popular because it speaks to the readers in a way they understand. Being a science fiction fan, especially when I was young, could be a lonely existence. For my own part, growing up in the 1950s through the 1970s, there were very few people I knew (other than my father and brothers) who were as enthusiastic about science fiction as I was. My intimate knowledge of Marvel comics, for example, was not something I mentioned to girls I wanted to date. In those days, choosing to be a science fiction fan was to choose something hard to share with others. And I’ve seen signs of this loneliness when I’ve met other fans.

That aspect of being a science fiction fan seems to be eroding in recent decades, as science fiction and comic book stories have come to dominate the entertainment business. You don’t have to wait to attend a science fiction club meeting or convention to find someone to discuss your favorite passions with—one of the positive aspects of social media is that it can bring together groups of people who enjoy the same things. I sometimes wonder if these changes in society might eventually have an impact on the literature of science fiction, and we might see fewer stories of isolated heroes and more stories about groups working in collaboration. Only time will tell…

Norstrilia

The book opens more like a fairy tale than a novel. While the story is science fiction, the form and narrative owe more to fantasy than the straightforward style of science fiction. Norstrilia begins by telling us, rather than showing us, what the story is about. This allows the author to introduce us to a great deal of backstory all at once, but because little of this information is explained, the reader is tossed into the literary equivalent of deep water, and must quickly learn to swim in this dense and sometimes inscrutable narrative.

We meet young Rod McBan, 151st of his name, who is on the cusp of inheriting the family ranch, the ominously named Station of Doom, where giant sickly sheep produce the precious drug called stroon. His inheritance is far from certain, however. Rod, unlike other Norstrilians, cannot spiek or hier telepathically (not reliably, anyhow). When he does hier, he can listen in to many people’s minds over wide distances. And when he spieks, he transmits powerful emotions, again over wide distances. In attempts to correct these deficiencies, he has had his childhood restarted a number of times, living those years over and over. Now, he must face what is called the Garden of Death, a trial that determines whether Norstrilians will be executed by drugs that kill them with happiness, or allowed to go on with their lives. His only friends are an old battle computer, hidden on the farm, which has educated him over the years, and his cousin Lavinia, one of the few people who is comfortable speaking to him with her voice in the old manner.

Rod’s trial board consists of three people, two local, and one surprisingly the Lord Redlady, a Commissioner of the Instrumentality. Redlady convinces the board that Rod’s different abilities are not a liability, but rather a gift. And he is allowed to live.

Rod’s survival angers an old childhood adversary, who is now a government official with the title of Onseck, a corruption of the ancient term Honorary Secretary. The Onseck has placed blocks on Rod’s inheritance of the Station of Doom. Rod visits his computer, which suggests that, working together, they could corner the market on stroon, making Rod richer and giving him more power over his destiny. They succeed beyond their wildest dreams, and after a long trading session, Rod finds himself not only the richest man in civilization, but also owner of the planet Earth.

Being incredibly rich turns out to bring problems of its own. The Onseck attempts to murder Rod with a genetically engineered bird, and there are rumors of kidnapping plots. The Lord Redlady appears to help, and convinces Rod to go to Earth. But to slip Rod past those who wish to harm him, they must ship him as cargo. So, in a sequence replete with body horror, an intelligent ape in Redlady’s service amputates Rod’s head, freeze-dries the rest of his body, and packs him up in a small box. When Rod is reconstructed, to protect him, he is molded into the form of an underperson descended from a cat, and married to the famously lovely courtesan, C’Mell. This reconstruction leads to additional dangers, as Rod retains a sense of privilege that could get him killed for violating the rigid laws that apply to underpeople. A servant from his ranch, Elanor, accompanies Rod to Earth, and agrees to have her body reformed into an image of his, throwing off the efforts of those seeking him. Lord Redlady, while he does everything in his power to ensure all Rod’s wishes for his trip to Earth are granted, also has his own agenda, as do the underpeople, whose leader, the mysterious E’telekeli, meets with Rod and gives him aid.

I won’t continue the recap further, as I don’t want to reveal spoilers (although I will say that Elanor finds she prefers life as a young man who resembles the richest man on Earth to being a female servant on Norstrilia…). Rod’s journey through the culture of Earth is absolutely fascinating, with many interesting asides. This culture is by no means a utopia, and is even ugly and cruel. But despite its dark and whimsical aspects, it also feels very real and plausible. Without being heavy-handed, the book deals with issues of free will, duty, diversity, racism, slavery, and the very nature of what makes a person. The journey tends to wander, but always in directions I found fascinating. And in the end, when Rod returns to Norstrilia, we are given a heartwarming ending that, in only a couple of lines, also becomes absolutely heartbreaking.

Final Thoughts

Cordwainer Smith is a writer who should not be forgotten. His work was rich and fascinating, and unlike the output of many other writers of his era, his tales have aged like a good whiskey. Norstrilia is available in a number of formats, and a few years ago, the NESFA Press put out The Rediscovery of Man, a collection of his short works.

And now, I look forward to hearing your thoughts on Smith’s work and his legacy. Are you as captivated by the Instrumentality of Man as I am?

[olko71]

New Post has been published on All about business online

New Post has been published on http://yaroreviews.info/2022/11/uk-airports-could-ditch-luggage-liquid-rules-by-2024

UK airports could ditch luggage liquid rules by 2024

Getty Images

By Lora Jones

Business reporter, BBC News

Security restrictions on liquids and laptops in airport hand luggage could be axed in the UK within two years thanks to high-tech 3D scanners.

The government is considering rolling out the more advanced scanners by mid-2024, a source told the BBC, although a final decision has yet to be made.

The equipment, similar to CT scanners used in hospitals, provides a clearer picture of a bag’s contents.

A previous installation deadline slipped due to the pandemic.

The Times newspaper reported that ministers have been carrying out a review and an announcement is due before Christmas, with the hope it could cut down on queues in UK airports.

Currently, passengers taking liquid in their cabin baggage are restricted to clear plastic bags holding no more than 100ml, which must be shown to security staff in a single, transparent, resealable plastic bag of about 20cm (8in) x 20cm.

Those limits have been in place since November 2006. Their introduction ended a ban on liquids in the cabin imposed three months earlier, when British police said they had foiled a plot to blow up as many as 10 planes using explosives hidden in drinks bottles.

But the new technology enables staff to zoom in on a bag’s contents and rotate the images for inspection.

Airport passengers face ‘unacceptable’ queues

The airport tech helping to prevent delayed flights

The 3D scanners have been trialled at London Heathrow Airport, starting in 2017.

Its chief executive, John Holland-Kaye, told The Times newspaper: “We are slowly rolling them out.

“We have just started the expansion of the security area in Terminal 3 which will have more CT scanners and have a deadline of mid-2024 from the [Department for Transport]. By then the normal passenger experience will be that liquids stay in bags.”

The technology has already been in use by US airports, such as Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson and Chicago’s O’Hare, for a number of years.

Former Prime Minister Boris Johnson made a pledge to use the scanning technology to speed up pre-boarding checks and improve security, giving UK airports a deadline of the end of 2022.

But passenger numbers were dented during the pandemic with travel restrictions in place across much of the globe.

The latest figures from the International Air Transport Association for September show that passenger traffic levels have only reached 73% of pre-Covid levels.

A spokeswoman for the Department for Transport said: “Passengers at UK airports must not carry liquid containers larger than 100ml through security, and both liquids and electronics should be taken out of cabin bags at airport security checkpoints.”

More on this story

Airport passengers face ‘unacceptable’ queues

21 October

The airport tech helping to prevent delayed flights

7 February

[paceparkergirl]

For shits n giggles. Seeing these photos might make that happen if you're a lotr/hobbit fan like me....

Photos above: Did someone take a wrong turn? Are these cast members from the hills have eyes? enough said. Hobbits do not look like this......Can someone give them a bathtub and some shampoo?

Photo above: Little house on the prairie? I wondered if they would ever reboot that show......Someone needs to mow the grass....and remove the gladiator from the porch. Wrong set......

Photo above: Spock reincarnated....or dumbo? or maybe the happy new year elf on the island of misfit toys? All I "hear" is...THOSE EARS!!! and start laughing........his receding hair line is following their lead. Elves are not old........(Physically)

Photo above: An old elf?? There is no OLD in ELF LAND?? (Physically)

Photo above: Church choir? Satanic cult? Apocalypse? 80's horror movie? I am not sure here..........

Photo above: Elves do NOT cut their hair or have gel styled waves.........stop it! (Although I'd like to know what hair products he is using, I could use a root boost like that) Edward Cullen?? I'm waiting for this dude to start sparkling

Photo above: Galadriel? Is that you? I thought you looked more like Eowyn...or maybe Thranduil with that crown of flowers or berries or whatever the hell it is.... and then there is those ears again beside her, you cannot miss that. He can probably pick up baby monitors and police scanners with those suckers....or maybe Mork...Nanu Nanu

Photos above: Angry Kid? Is that you? When did you dye your hair? I guess you didn't want red hair or smile like your dwarf friend standing beside you.........(Angry Kid is a british comedy if no one knows, look it up, it's pretty damn funny)

[obsidiancreates]

The Crossover Nobody Asked For (VenturianTale and Milo Murphy’s Law)

“Oh, this place is horrid,” Cavendish says, looking out the window as the van rolls into town. “This is barely an upgrade from garbage duty.”

“So there’s a lot of damage. Maybe they’ve just a Murphy in town and no budget,” Dakota says with a shrug.

“... I suppose that’s a possibility. But I don’t believe Milo has mentioned any family living in North Carolina. Especially not a place with a name like... ugh.”

“Come on, say it,” Dakota says, already almost laughing.

“... Butts, Little Butts,” Cavendish sighs.

Dakota laughs, slapping the steering wheel.

“Who even named this place?! And who would live here-”

“WHOA!”

Dakota slams on the breaks as someone runs right out in front of the van. 

“It went this way! Come on, Johnny!” a short man in a gray hoodie shouts behind him.

A tall man in a rather fancy outfit jogs into view. “I’m coming, sir! But I-I’ve been stabbed in the leg-”

“IT’S GETTING AWAY- oh, you!”

The short man runs up to the window of Cavendish and Dakota’s van. “Hey! Give us your vehicle!”

Cavendish is slightly taken aback. “Wh- we most certainly shall not!”

“Oh, he’s British! Johnny, come communicate with him in your British tongue!”

“What the devil-”

“Hello, there. I’m Johnny Toast. May we please use you vehicle?”

“More British, Johnny.”

“Oh, right sir, um, tea and crumpets, may we use your vehicle, um, Doctor Who, ah, my grandmother is the Queen of England.”

“... Just drive, Dakota.”

Dakota waves at the two men, and drives away. They hear the short one scream in frustration.

“This town is deplorable,” Cavendish says.

“We’ve only met two people, maybe it’s not so bad,” Dakota points out. “And we haven’t even been to any restaurants yet.”

“Given the state of some of these buildings, I advise against eating anything from here.”

“When has that ever stopped me?” 

“Mmm, true.”

They finally arrive at their destination. A shockingly normal looking house, out in the suburbs. 

“Well, perhaps this won’t be so bad after all.” Cavendish seems hopeful as the van is parked.

“Yeah, see? We just happened to run across two weirdos. Now let’s find that alien signal Mr. Block sent us here for.”

“I’ll grab the scanner, you introduce us,” Cavendish says, opening the back of the van. 

Dakota nod sand heads up to the front door. He rings the doorbell, and waits.

“GERTRUDE! SOMEONE’S AT THE DOOR!”

“I HEARD IT, I’M MAKIN’ DINNER!”

“KIDS!”

Dakota winces. Oh boy, so the people who live here are... loud, to say the least.

“WHERE’RE THE KIDS, GERTRUDE?”

“BILLY IS HIDING FROM MADDIE AND SALLY IS ON A DATE WITH SLENDER! SUE IS SOMEWHERE IN THE MALL!”

Dakota waits a moment, and then rings again.

He hears a heavy sigh. A moment later, the door swings open, and Dakota shouts and stumbles back.

A large man stands in the door, holding a shotgun. With his bald head, beard, and very angry expression, he looks like exactly the type of person you don’t want to bother in the middle of the day. 

“Who the heck ‘re you?” he demands in... some kind of... southern? accent.

“Uh...”

“Dakota, have you- oh, hello, are you the resident who lives here?”

Cavendish is either ignoring the shotgun, or hasn’t noticed it yet, somehow.

“Yeah, this is my house, so what’re you doing here?”

“Well, we’ve been sent by an agency-”

“Are you some more of them P.I.E people?  I told ya to quit comin’ to my house, you only make the problems worse!”

“P.I.E? No, we’re with an agency called P.I.G-”

“Paranormal Investigators Gourmet?! I don’t remember hirin’ you!”

“... Gourmet- no! No, we’re with the Paranormal Investigation Group-”

“How many ghost huntin’ groups are there?!” the man shouts, presumably in frustration, though a slight bit of laugh slips into his voice.

“... We deal with aliens,” Cavendish says, unsure what else to say.

“Aliens? I KNEW IT! GERTRUDE, I TOLD YA! I TOLD YA THAT THING WAS FROM THEM ALIENS!”

“GOOD JOB, HONEY, YOU DID IT!”

“YEAH! I DID IT, I DID IT!Aw, you can come right on in, provin’ me right. You’re a lot less annoyin’ than the P.I.E people, they’re always talkin’ and sayin’ I’m wrong and not to shoot the ghosts, but they shoot ghosts too so I don’t know what they’re talkin’ about-”

“He’s just talking to himself now,” Dakota whispers to Cav as they follow the man into the house.

Cavendish nods. Maybe this won’t go as well as he’d hoped... He clears his throat. “May we ask for you name, my good man?”

The man stops, and turns around. “My name! Is PAPA ACACHALLA!”

Dakota snorts.

“Why’re you laughin? That’s my name! It’s a great name! Means ‘whole dang universe’!”

“No, no, it’s just I never thought we’d find a more made-up sounding name than his,” Dakota says, pointing his thumb at Cavendish. 

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Well, what’s his name?” Acachalla demands, pointing at Cavendish with the shotgun way too casually.

Dakota pushes the barrel of the gun away. “Go ahead, Cav.”

Cav crosses his arms. “Balthazar Cavendish.”

"HA! You British people have the weirdest names! Like that Toast boy! Anyway, the alien thing is out here. Officer Maloney came to look at it, but it isn’t one of his things, and I can’t figure out how to move it! I’ve tried C4, a tractor, Freddie, a nuke-”

“A nuke?!”

“- an’ none of it even dented the thing!”

“Yeah, can we go back to nuke?” Dakota says, eyes wide.

“Too late, we’re here.”

Dakota and Cavendish blink.

Cavendish’s eye twitches “It’s a-”

“It’s a giant metal Kirby,” Dakota finishes. 

“Yeah! I don’t want it in my yard! My daughter says it feels like it’s mockin’ her from when she was a Kirby!”

“What in blazes are you- this is no alien technology! This is some kind of... bad sculpture!” Cavendish shouts.

“It dropped right out of the sky!” Acachalla protests. “Maloney said it was alien, and he would know! He’s a bird!”

“A bir- you said he was a police officer!”

“He is! And he’s a bird! Who can be a person!”

Cavendish is fuming. “Dakota, call Mr. Block and tell him we’ve been lead on a wild goose chase!”

Dakota sighs, and heads inside to make the call (for some reason, he can’t get a signal from the yard).

“There’s no wild goose around here! Not after that nuke test, anyway!”

“There’s no possible way you set off a nuke here! This house is still intact, you’re still alive, and there’s no residual radiation in the area!”

“So?”

“SO?! SO THERE WAS NO NUCLEAR EXPLOSION!”

“I don’t think you know how nukes work!”

“YOU-”

“Cav, calm down, he’s holding a gun,” Dakota says in a hissed whisper.

Cavendish takes a deep breath, and collects himself. “Clearly, Mr. Acachalla-”

“Papa Acachalla. My title is Papa.”

“I steadfastly refuse to refer to you as ‘Papa’. Mr. Acachalla, there’s been some sort of mix-up, and this is not alien in-”

The mouth of the Kirby opens, and a being steps out.

“Excuse me, but our craft was broken, and we just got the doors working,” says the being (that looks... weirdly like a... Pokemon?). 

“I KNEW IT!” Acachalla shouts. He shoots his gun up into the air, and starts ‘dancing’ (to use the term loosely). “I KNEW IT, I KNEW IT, PAPA ACACHALLA, I KNEW IT-”

Cavendish stares, dumbfounded. “You- you’re actually an alien?”

The alien nods. “Yup, I am!”

“... You sound remarkably human.”

“Thanks! So do you!”

“... Thank you?”

“Do you happen to know where we can get some materials to repair our ship?”

“Well, I suppose I might. What do you need?”

“Macaroni.”

“... What-”

“Hey, we’ve got that!” Acachalla says, stopping his little song and dance. “Just don’t tell the cops. It’s Johnny Toast brand, too, really strong stuff.”

“... Why would macaroni need to be hidden from the cops?” Cavendish asks weakly, shoulders slumped. This is ridiculous, and he feels... defeated, in a way.

“Uh, ‘cause it’s illegal?” Acachalla says with a laugh. “Duh?”

Acachalla leads the alien inside, and-

“WHY’RE YOU EATIN’ OUR MACARONI?!”

Dakota looks up from his bowl. “Uh, your wife offered me some-”

“GERTRUDE, WHAT’RE YOU THINKIN’?! THAT’S OUR GOOD MACARONI!”

A woman in a green sweater peeks out from the kitchen. “Well, he said he was hungry, and it was either this or your old boot!”

“That boot is high in protein!”

“That’s why I’m savin’ it for the kids!”

Dakota puts down his fork. “I think your macaroni went bad, actually, I don’t feel so good...”

Acachalla rolls his eyes. “Duh, you don’t! Have you ever even had macaroni before?!”

Dakota looks up. “Somethin’s weird here...” he slurs.

“Wh- what have you done to him?!” Cavendish pushes Acachalla aside and rushes to Dakota.

“It’s macaroni! It makes the world all wiggly and weird!” Acachalla says, like that’s at all true and common knowledge.

Dakota laughs a little, reaching up to grab Cavendish’s hat. “You’re way taller th’n I remember,” he says, still slurring.

“That is it! We are leaving!”

Cavendish picks Dakota up bridal-style. Dakota grins, and leans up, giving Cavendish a peck on the lips. “Wow, I can stretch really far...”

Cavendish blushes intensely. “That macaroni has clearly intoxicated my partner! You’ll be hearing from the higher-ups over this!” he says, trying to ignore what just happened.

“I think ‘m flying,” Dakota declares as Cavendish carries him back out to the van.

“Dakota, you’re delirious. Just rest until we get home.”

“I feel fine,” Dakota insists, head lolling. “You’re the one who turned into a tomato when I kissed you. From a leek to a tomato...”

“A leek? Is that because of my suit?”

“You’re a-a leek with fluffy wings.”

Cavendish buckles Dakota in. “What on Earth-”

“Like a vegetable angel.”

Cavendish blushes again. “This is terrible. you have no idea what you’re saying,” he says, trying to affirm that fact in his mind.

“You’re a tomato again. Whoa, my hand is made of fresh fries...”

“No, they’re just yellow because they’re covered in cheese.”

Dakota grins. “Smarty-pants.”

As Cavendish goes to shut the door, Dakota grabs him again and gives him another kiss. A long one. Cavendish is in shock. 

“You don’t taste like a leek,” Dakota says afterwards, apparently incredibly happy about that fact.

Cavendish, blushing more than he thought was possible, gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car. “We’re never returning here,” he mutters to himself.

Dakota waves at the house as they drive away.

[ravenvsfox]

‘somehow escape the burning wait’ + andreil (yes i read your tags)

(I kinda stitched these two together, hope that’s okay! This became a bonnie and clyde extravaganza and I don’t know why)

They make it all the way to the border before Nathan catches up with them.

For months they’ve been tripping through grocery stores and motels with blue, blue swimming pools, and when the mood strikes them, careening into parking lots to steal prettier cars.

Neil told Andrew who he is--he can’t remember. A long time ago. Months. Years.

That first time Nathan tried to take him, Andrew wrenched the knife out of his hand so hard that his butcher’s hand had snapped.

In the aftermath of their escape, Andrew had sponged the blood out of Neil’s hair, and Neil had cried his way through a panic attack. It was the first time he’d said the name Wesninski out loud in over a year.

He came for them again after that, but they kept stumbling out of reach, pulling each other across state-lines and into unfindable burrows.

Together, they’ve done the messy, elbow-deep work of heaving Neil out of his father’s shadow. They’ve been trying to run fast enough that maybe the killer’s blood inside him will purify and evaporate off of his skin.

Andrew tells him every day that they can stop. That he will take care of it, when Nathan comes calling. But Neil refuses to watch that showdown, between his past and his future. 

They keep moving. Neil teaches Andrew how to do it undetected for a while, the passports and disguises, but then, inexplicably, they start to enjoy themselves. 

The hateful, scrounging existence of his life attached to his mother becomes thrilling with Andrew. He jogs backwards in front of him, so it almost feels like he’s running towards something.

The first time they rob a store, it’s so slick that no one notices. Andrew peels a chunk of inventory from the back shelf while Neil asks the cashier for directions, easy. Always easier, with two people. No--always easy with Andrew.

They always aim low, and corporate. They stay anonymous, and alive. Then they start to take a little extra. 

They wander through a clothing store and Andrew grabs expensive shirts in Neil’s size, barely looking at them. Andrew always liked his maserati, so they steal one. Adrenaline makes people so stupid, but so awake.

They have matching duffle bags now, and they live in each other’s clothes. Neil dyes Andrew’s hair a rich brown that matches his eyes.

They get a police scanner, and listen for any sign of themselves. They read Baltimore obituaries, hoping.

Andrew calls Aaron from payphones, when he can. He gets even quieter, afterwards, and Neil can tell he’s furious at himself for leaving. He won’t go back though, even when Neil begs him to. 

One night, when they’re robbing a closed liquor store, the cops show up. 

Neil flattens himself to the floor, and Andrew drops down after him just as a flashlight beam ghosts through the blinds. 

“Look at me,” Andrew whispers, crouched across the aisle from him.

“There’s no back door in here,” Neil tells him. “We’re done.”

“Not yet,” he says. They usually keep gloves and masks on them just in case, and Andrew slides his up over his nose, black and surgical. “Wait here.”

“Yeah right,” Neil says, and stands up with him. “Together or not at all, remember?”

“Anyone in there who’s not s’posed to be?” the officer calls, tapping on the glass front door with his baton. They move wordlessly closer, and Andrew puts his palm gently on the door, holding it closed. The door nudges forward beneath his hand, and they share a whiplash glance before Andrew kicks the door, and it smacks open into the officer’s face. 

He staggers backwards, and Neil hefts the bag full of money and booze into his gut before he can recover. He doubles over, and Andrew grabs his arms behind his back, but there’s another one, standing just outside the squad car, looking gobsmacked.

“Drew,” Neil warns.

A fumble, a breath, and then there’s a gun levelled towards them.

“Let him go right now,” the second cop demands. “And put your hands in the air.”

“Don’t die,” Andrew tells him through his teeth, wrestling the first cop into a headlock.

“Thanks,” Neil huffs. He walks forward two steps. The officer shakes the gun at him.

“Not another step, I mean it.”

“Okay,” Neil says. “Okay. Calm down.” He hears the sputtering behind him disintegrate as the first cop blacks out. “I’m just gonna put the bag down.”

“Bag down, then hands up,” he says.

“Exactly,” Neil says coolly. He puts the bag down, wrapping a hand around the neck of a bottle poking out of the top as he does. 

In one fluid motion, he stands, flinging the bottle underhanded towards the officer’s head. He flinches, lifting one arm to protect his face. It gives Andrew enough time to palm the gun off of his unconscious charge, and blast the cop in the kneecap. 

He goes howling to the ground as the bottle shatters behind him, dropping his gun to grab his knee. Neil’s just close enough to swipe it.

The smell of blood and vodka is pungent, even through his mask.

Neil rips the mobile radio off of his belt while he’s down there, then says, “you’re going to want to tourniquet that. Use your belt.” 

The officer sobs, and fumes, and doesn’t answer. 

“Let’s go,” Andrew calls.

Neil scoops up the abandoned bag and jogs to join him. “Someone’s gonna report that gunshot,” he says.

“That’s why I’m telling you to move,” Andrew says, pulling him by the wrist, then the waist. Neil moves to duck into their getaway car, a nondescript little honda this time, but Andrew goes for the police cruiser instead. He falls into the still open driver’s seat, and Neil fills the backseat with their stolen goods.

“You didn’t kill him,” Neil says, climbing inside. “Higgins would appreciate that.”

“I didn’t spare him out of respect for the police force,” Andrew says wryly, turning the ignition and reversing haphazardly out into the street. “There’s less mess with an alive cop than a dead one. Less time looking for us.” 

He’s driving like he usually does, switching lanes fast and running red lights, but it looks natural on a police car. They race out of town, galloping well over the speed limit, their flashing lights parting the sparse midnight traffic. 

Neil tells him they need to switch cars, and between one moment and the next, Andrew has pulled someone over. Sirens blazing, he announces over the in-car megaphone that they need to step out of their vehicle. 

They get out of the squad car in tandem. Andrew takes the stolen gun and walks evenly towards the other car, and while the driver squints into the glare from their headlights, Neil slips around the other side, all the way into their passenger seat.

He clambers over the console to the driver’s side and locks the door, heart pounding. He can see Andrew pointing a gun at the person now, holding them at bay while he rounds the car to the passenger side.

They leave the driver stranded on the side of the road.

“That was so stupid,” Neil tells him, breathless. “He’s going to report his car as stolen, and he has rough descriptions of us to match the cops’.”

“We’ll leave it at the next rest stop,” Andrew says flippantly. “We couldn’t hold onto that cruiser.”

“We shouldn’t have had it in the first place,” Neil says. “We had a car already, you took the cop car because you thought it would be fun.”

“And it was,” Andrew says, shrugging. It’s times like this that Neil could swear he’s about to smile.

Neil leans in a little, caught up in the anticipation of that smile, running on adrenaline fumes. He catches himself before he can make contact, but Andrew takes his hand off the gearshift and pulls him in the rest of the way. 

He kisses him, lush, as they drift onto the shoulder of the road, one hand flexing on the wheel, the other clenched in Neil’s collar.

“We’re going to get caught,” Neil says against his mouth. “And then what are you going to do?”

Andrew shrugs again. “Go for the kneecaps.”

______

They do get caught, five days later, as they’re trying to cross from Washington up into British Columbia. Their passports are very good fakes, and they’re in a second-hand car that they paid for with stolen cash. 

Nathan must have paid off border agents at every port, because they hold them at the side of the road for four hours, long enough for Lola to appear, grinning, at the window.

To their credit, they put up an excellent fight.

They dodge behind cars, picking their way towards safety, two steps forward one step back, over and over. Andrew fires their stolen gun randomly behind them, and he grazes at least two of their pursuers. Neil spots security cameras with dawning dread, and when he looks at the determined line of Andrew’s sharp jaw, he realizes that they’re mask-less. 

Real border agents are sidelined and killed by whoever Lola’s hired to help her, and the fight drags pointlessly on.

Eventually, there’s a high, familiar yelp on the air, and Neil looks at Andrew, wide-eyed.

“Did you get her?” He whispers.

Andrew shakes his head. “Crossfire,” he says. “From their side.”

A laugh bubbles up past his lips. He holds a hand over his mouth. “They won’t last without her. She’s the only one with any stock in this.”

He pokes his head above the toll booth they’re using for cover, and a bullet clips the wood just below his neck. He ducks back down, and Andrew holds him by the back of the neck.

“Look at me,” he says. Neil does. “There is a car parked beyond the main building. We get behind the wall, and we have enough time to start moving before they shoot up the wheels. But we have to run.”

Neil nods jerkily, and offers him a crooked smile. “I can do that.” 

Andrew’s hand gets heavier on his neck. “Yes or no?” he asks.

Neil shakes his head. “Kiss me when we’re safe.”

The pressure on his neck eases up. Andrew puts the emptied gun carefully on the gravel at their knees. “Three,” he says.

“Two,” Neil replies.

“One.”

They burst out from behind the toll booth. 

For a shimmering moment there’s no gunfire at all. He’s across half the gulf they need to cover in a second, faster than he’s ever been, off the blocks at the races while his challengers fumble their takeoff. 

And then there’s that telltale whistle in the air. He stumbles.

Andrew whips his head around to find the source, and Neil sees his dark eyes for a moment, the gnarl of exertion in his brow.

“Come on,” he’s saying.

A moment later, Neil understands that he’s been shot. He’s still running, but it’s the running you do in a nightmare, when the ground is an endless treadmill.

The bullet clipped him in the back, and it hasn’t come through to the front. He can tell that Andrew doesn’t know it’s happened. Neil barely knows it’s happened.

The pain is there, but it’s underwater, and he is pressed against the ceiling to avoid it.

They round the corner, gasping, and the spill of gunfire stops again. Heavy footfalls follow, but they don’t stick around to see how fast they might be. Andrew wheels into the car, and Neil drags his way up after him. The adrenaline is all over him like armour, and he’s petrified that it will begin to jangle apart, soon. It might not matter what they do now, if he doesn’t go to a hospital.

They drive, off road, alongside the whipping branches of the tree line. They’re chased for a while, by whoever was quick enough to get to their own car, but they give up when Andrew starts taking them in quick, dizzying turns down side roads.

They are in Canada, against all odds, and Neil is bleeding to death in the passenger’s seat.

“Andrew,” Neil says, and Andrew leans over and kisses him, as close to giddy as he ever gets.

“Safe,” Andrew tells him. The road in front of them is newly paved, and the pines on either side are -- unimaginably beautiful.

“Maybe,” Neil says. Andrew rolls his eyes.

“We ditch this car as soon as we can, and we find an outlet mall to change clothes.”

“We emerge, Canadians,” Neil jokes. He reaches discretely for his wound, and his hand comes away soaked with blood. He swallows.

“You convinced yourself you were going to die,” Andrew says. “But that was almost easy.”

“Easy,” Neil echoes. He’s losing his tender grip on consciousness. “Andrew,” he says. “I’m sorry I’m going to do this to you.”

Andrew looks over at him, and Neil can feel his gaze trickling down to Neil’s bloody fingers.

“Neil?” He says, alarmed.

“Almost,” he says, frustrated tears slipping back into his hair. “We almost did it.”

“Fuck,” Andrew’s saying. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare.”

They can’t pull over, and Andrew knows this. They don’t have enough distance yet, and they’re driving a conspicuous car. It’s only a matter of time before Lola or her recruits get in contact with Nathan. Nathan will check the hotels first, then maybe the hospitals. He’ll be thorough, as always.

“Hospital?” Andrew asks. 

Neil coughs. “You know we can’t.”

“I am not going to drive us through the countryside like we’re on a road trip while you die next to me.”

“It’s a good way to die,” Neil murmurs. He never expected such a kind death.

“There is no good way to die,” Andrew snaps. “You are not doing it.”

Neil is suddenly, fiercely proud to hear him denounce death like that. He smiles, and a little bubble bursts at the corner of his mouth. He knows there’s blood in his teeth.

A burning pain lances through him, and he traps a sob in his clenched jaw.

“Don’t,” Andrew says, “do this to me.”

“Don’t take me somewhere you like,” Neil says, “to bury me.”

“Stop.”

“It--it made me hate the beach,” he slurs. “I shouldn’t’ve--”

“I’ll kill you,” Andrew says, voice mulched with emotion. “I’ll kill you.”

“Sorry,” Neil says again, swallowing blood, and then he droops, cold, and passes out.

______

“Fuck you,” Andrew says, when he wakes up. 

He’s groggy, but he knows immediately that he’s been taken to a hospital, despite everything, and that they probably won’t ever leave it.

“I’m sorry,” Neil says, trying to sit up, wincing through it.

“So you have said,” Andrew says. 

“How long has it been?”

His eyes flicker to the bedside clock. “Six hours, thirteen minutes.”

Neil’s stomach turns.

“He... he knows how close they got. He’s going to check hospitals. He’ll come to finish the job, and I’ll die anyway. We both will.”

“Then the last thing I will have done is save your life,” Andrew says.

“That’s--” Neil starts, so moved that he’s almost embarrassed.

“I don’t care. It wasn’t an option for me. Let’s stop discussing it.”

Neil relaxes, fond, and hopeless, and sad. He looks up at the pallid ceiling, feeling transparent, like he was caught in the portal between life and death and now he’s cut in two.

“Come here,” Neil says, shifting in his cot. “Wait with me.”

Andrew doesn’t complain, or pretend he doesn’t want to. He crawls into bed with him, and Neil wants to droop onto his shoulder, but he has to look at his face.

It’s easy to forget their deadline when Andrew is so warm against him. They haven’t relaxed so completely in years. The race is over. 

“Thank you,” Neil tells him. “For the company. I really think--we were amazing.”

Andrew kisses him so sweetly on the cheek, and threads a warm hand into his hair. Neil puts his hand over Andrew’s heart.

The door opens.

[simmonsofshield]

Reassignment

Part 1/1

Pairing: none Characters: Kate Beckett, Kevin Ryan, Javier Esposito, Jemma Simmons, Philip Coulson

Summary: Amidst clean up after the Battle of New York, things happen and Officer Y/N ends up in the quinjet’s medical bay.

Words: 1900+

A/N:  Unplanned, but I guess in honor of my url change, Jemma has a small feature in this fic! This was originally gonna be a copy-paste of one of my fics from wattpad, but then I wanted to make it more accurate to New York so 98% of this is new writing. So much for trying to cut corners. 🤷😂 Loose tie-ins of Agents of SHIELD and Castle. (Characters, not really the shows..) Canonically, Skye (Daisy) wouldn’t have her powers yet, but my story my rules lol. So she does. Three weeks late (I was suppose to post this on the 1st), but at least I got it done, right? This is for @fanfictionaries​‘s classic trope challenge. I chose police au. Takes place after Avengers.

Police codes key: 12-David-19 [Precinct # - city section - police car id] used 9th precinct as reference 10-50 Disorderly (group, person, noise) non-crime 10-10 Possible crime (many tags, the one i use is P, suspicious person/prowler)

“Here’s what’s going on today,” Captain Beckett begins, “it’s been almost six months since the Battle of New York. Midtown South is still asking for help with crowd control and patrol of the area, as most of their officers are helping with clean up. I told them the 12th Precinct is happy to help as long as it doesn’t interfere with our daily patrols. Today they’re only asking for two, so Ryan and Esposito, it’s on you today. Just make sure no weirdos or teens with sticky fingers try to get in the rubble.”

“Yes Captain.”

“L/N, my office, please.”

You look at her with surprise, then over to the boys. Ryan is the first to speak, rolling his eyes, “Of course. Little Y/N getting special treatment once again. I bet you’re getting put on a really cool case. You know, she’s basically training you to be a mini her.”

You roll your eyes back at him, “Sounds like you’re just jealous because I rose to this rank in half the time it took you.”

“Ooooo...” Esposito calls from his desk, “want some ice for that burn?”

“Shut up,” he mumbles as he slumps back in his chair.

You laugh as you walk to Beckett’s office, the door being closed behind you. You start to get worried when she starts shutting the blinds too. “Captain?”

She sets a file in front of you and begins explaining. “Though Kevin was joking, he wasn’t wrong. You have impressed me since you came here from the academy. You were the youngest to be promoted to detective, and your persistence hasn’t gone unnoticed. Which is why I think you’re perfect for this particular assignment.”

She nods to the file, and you pick it up, opening it. Your brows furrow at the first page and you look back up at her, “I don’t understand. Philip Coulson died on a helicarrier before the attack on New York even happened. Didn’t Loki kill him or whatever?”

“Originally, yes.”

“Originally?”

“Most if it is redacted and classified, but what was released - specifically for you in this file, turn the page - was that some experimental tech was used and more or less brought him back to life.”

You read exactly that as she says it, but you’re left with more questions than answers with every page turn. “What do you mean specifically for me? How many people know he’s alive?”

She blows out some air, sitting down at her desk to look you in the eye, “Only SHIELD level 7 and above. We are of only a few civilians that know. This cannot leave this room. The only others that know are ones that will be a part of this team that Agent Coulson is putting together alongside Agent Maria Hill and Director Fury.”

Again, more questions. “But...I’m a homicide detective...not SHIELD...” You pause for a moment as you try to form a question with all the information that is now in your mind, “Why me?” is what you come up with.

She shrugs, “That’s a question for Coulson or Hill. I can’t answer it. You’ll work today but after that you’ll be with SHIELD and Coulson,” she nods back to the file, “I suggest you finish reading through that tonight.” She stands up and walks toward the door.

“I’m sorry, Captain, one last question,” she lets go of the door handle and turns around, “what does all this mean for this job? Am I like fired or something?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” she says with a smile, “Agent Hill and I already discussed the technicalities, but basically what will be said is that you’re going undercover with SHIELD for a big operation and you’ll be gone for a few weeks. Which, really, isn’t that much of a lie.”

You nodded, somewhat understanding, “Yes, ma’am. See you in a few weeks, I guess.”

She also nods, smiling, “Likewise, detective.”

Nearing the end of your shift, you’re about to head back to the station when there’s an aggravated call on the scanner. “10-50. These crowds are getting out of hand. More officers needed in Midtown near Grand Central.”

You go back and forth in your head for a moment before deciding to respond, “Dispatch, add 12-David-19 to that 10-50 call. En route from East Village. ETA about 20 minutes.” You turn on your lights and try to get there as fast as you can.

Arriving on scene, you park about four blocks away, at Park and 38th, which is as close as you can get with all the rubble and destroyed buildings. This is the main drag of where most of the Avenger’s fight happened. It’s no surprise that half of New York is here to see the damage, even six months later.

Now on foot, you’re about halfway to Grand Central Station when you hear the breaking of glass and catch some suspicious activity out of the corner of your eye. You follow, talking into your radio, “This is 12-David-19. I’ve got a 10-10P. Kids breaking windows of businesses. It doesn’t look like they’ve stolen anything yet. I’m going to keep an eye on them. Requesting one or two officers for backup if anyone can leave Grand Central Station. 40th street, headed NorthEast.”

You casually follow at a distance until all of a sudden, “Whoa, dudes, check this out!” One of the kids picks up a weapon of some sort. Clearly not of this world and from the Battle, you’re 99% sure. He poses with it and one of his friends takes a picture of him with their phone. “I wonder what this button does.”

“Ahh!” Whatever came out of the weapon hits you directly in the shoulder and you fall to the ground. This is the first time the group of kids notice your presence. They fight for a moment, deciding whether to run or help. A groan from you cuts their argument short and most leave, while two stay.

By what you can tell with your blurry vision, they seem to be brothers. The one walking towards you is clearly friends with the ones that fled, while the other is younger. If you had to guess, you’d say early high school, 14-16, and 12ish for their ages.

You grab your radio and talk into it softly. Hopefully someone will be able to hear you. “Ambulance needed at location of 10-10. Officer down, shot with some sort of alien weapon.”

The older one kneels beside you and takes off his shirt, wrapping it around your wound, attempting to make a tourniquet. You let out a raspy laugh. It’s not quite right, but you appreciate the attempt. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

You can see the fear still on his face but he smiles nonetheless, “I’ve seen a few medical shows. I think this is right.”

“Anything to slow the bleeding. You’re doing good. What’s your name?”

“Derek Saunders. Am I going to jail?”

“N-no, why would you think that?”

“My friend shot you. Aren’t I an accessory or whatever?”

You shake your head, “You watch cop shows too?” you joke.

“My dad’s a cop. He’s helping at Grand Central right now.”

You cough out another laugh. How convenient. You’re about to tell him to call his dad on your radio when you hear another blast. It feels like it happens in slow motion. You watch as the burst of energy goes up at an angle and hits the building next to where you’re laying. You hear the boy yell something in the opposite direction, you’re assuming at his brother, who most likely got curious and picked up the alien weapon. You see the huge pieces of building falling towards you and Derek.

You let out a scream, though you’re not sure how loud it is due to your blood loss and how tired you’re getting. You close your eyes, knowing the inevitable is going to happen, and just waiting for it. You feel the ground rumble and try to open your eyes to understand what's going on, but you can’t.

Your world goes black.

You wake up to the sound of steady beeping. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the brightness of the fluorescent lights, but once you do you begin to panic. You know this is medical equipment and you’re in a room of some sort, but you’re not sure, something doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t seem like a hospital room.

You hear the whooshing of an automatic door sliding open. “It’s okay, officer. No need to panic. You are in great hands.” A pleasant British voice says to you. It does put you at ease a little.

The brunette seems to be taking your vitals or something at the moment, writing on a clipboard. You clear your throat, “Uh..where am I?”

“Oh of course,” she smiles embarrassedly, “welcome to the Bus. We’re with SHIELD. You’re safe.” she reassures.

“The Bus?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Yes,” your eyes shoot to the new voice, “welcome aboard.”

“Agent Coulson.” You try to sit up, but the pain in your shoulder stops you. You wince and lay back down.

“I assumed our meeting would be under better circumstances, but this’ll have to do.” he says with a smile. “Thank you, Simmons.” he nods at the girl and she leaves.

“What happened?”

“We heard your call on 40th.”

“Were you tracking me?”

“No,” he scoffs, “just making sure you didn’t get hurt before we got to meet you. Kinda failed at that, huh?”

You can’t help but chuckle a little, “Okay, but how the heck did I....” you trailed off, trying to think of how to word your question.

“Not die?” he looks at you, finishing your sentence.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You have Skye to thank for that. To avoid a lengthy explanation, she has the ability to ‘quake’ things apart and stopped the piece of building from falling on you and the young man helping you.”

“What happened to Derek and his brother?”

“They’re safe. And the weapon has been confiscated, now SHIELD property.”

You nodded, content with his explanations. There’s a lull in the conversation and you take the time to actually take in your surroundings. The room you’re in is glass on three sides, the fourth being a wall of shelves for medical items. You look down at yourself, not in a gown like a hospital, but someone’s tank top and shorts. You’d have to ask about that later. You focus on your shoulder, eyes going wide. It still hurts, but looks completely healed. 

“Pretty cool, huh?” you look at Agent Coulson, who is smiling like a proud dad, “you’d lost a lot of blood by the time we found you. We immediately put you in the tissue regeneration pod and got it going on your shoulder. It looks healed, but you’ll have to stay in here for a couple more days and be monitored.”

“Tissue regeneration? How long was I out?”

“From when we found you to getting you to the pod, only a few minutes, but we had to anesthetize you so you wouldn’t wake up during the regeneration, so you've been out for about 16 hours.”

“Oh.” is all you’re able to say, still taking it in. Tissue regeneration. How are you supposed to comprehend that? “Thanks, I guess.”

He nods, “So are you ready to discuss your new position with SHIELD?”

Besides the man being in front of you, you had completely forgotten about your transition from NYPD detective to possibly SHIELD agent? The two of you certainly had a lot to talk about. “Yes, sir.”

[cepmurphy]

“I always think I’m rid of them. Never am.”– Resolution

S11 ends with It Takes You Away and then Resolution, and I will accept no arguments.

There’s a cliché that a Doctor isn’t truly one until they’ve fought the Daleks. They’re the one foe just as iconic as the Doc. They’re a British icon. They’re so cool, they could have 50% of their TV appearances be a bit crap and we still want them. They’re almost certainly what the BBC said “Chibnall, you HAVE to include them if we let you have all this freedom on the other episodes” about.

But how will they fit here, in the more grounded and less flashy S11?

Chibnall cannily takes the Russell T Davies approach: there’s just one Dalek, it’s loose on Earth, and we see how dangerous it is because that one single, solitary Dalek is pushing the Doctor to the brink. This will also start off moving the Christmas Specials to New Year’s, and it harkens back to the old RTD approach there again – this, a time of year when everyone’s got free time and families are vegging out together in front of the telly, so now’s the time for a crowd-pleasing thrill ride.

And what a ride! We’ve had runarounds and battles and the like before, but the budget is stretched as far as it will go here, a story of car chases down real highways and tanks trading fire with aliens and a climax in front of a supernova! This is a real battle, and not on Ranskoor Av Kolos!

There are parts where the plot doesn’t quite work and veers into the same now-it’s-3407-years-later stabs at being ‘epic scifi’ for the sake of it: the Order of Custodians are really a nothing thing with little explanation (how did the Custodians found it when they’re so far apart?), there’s a company buying up alien tech on the black market (WHAT?!) but they’re just to explain a Dalek gun (couldn’t it be from the dig?). The joke that with no power, families are forced to talk to each other is lame at the best of times but jars when it comes surrounded by scenes taking the Dalek’s threat entirely seriously. But unlike Battle or Tsuranda, the episode is charging ahead so fast and doing so much fun stuff that it’s easier to ignore.

Before the Dalek, because there’s a lot I want to talk about there, the humans.

Mitch and Lin, our meet-cute archaeologists, are very quickly sketched out as characters and a couple in their first minute, with Mitch needing clarification about a kiss particularly adorable. We care about her quickly, which makes the Dalek’s takeover of her all the more painful. (Though points deducted for how, at the end, she seems over being made to kill people! Points deducted too for Yaz never having a reaction to fellow Sheffield police being killed)

Ryan, Graham, and Aaron are, of course, the main human activity. After a series of build-up, Ryan’s dad is here and we can’t blame Graham for immediately going “no” and shutting the door on him, not after all we’ve heard. But Aaron is not what we’ve been led to expect: he’s not cold, he’s not unfeeling, he’s not abusive. (Or not intended to be seen as abusive, as there is a reading of him as emotionally abusive) What he is, is pathetic and needy and aware he’s pathetic, but unable to express things. He hopes he can just sidle back in, and he’s frustrated to find Ryan and Graham (who won’t even look at Aaron) have bonded, and angry he’s being treated like this.

But over the course of S11, Ryan has been getting better at expressing himself instead of bottling things up. Here’s where that ends: being able to tell his dad exactly how he feels. “Don’t come walking back in, demanding respect, because that ain’t where we are.” He’s able to express that his dad made him feel like he was unworthy of being loved; he’s able to express exactly what Aaron needs to do and say.

Aaron can’t express well. In the café scene, Aaron is bigging up the microwaves he helped make and he so clearly wants Ryan to be impressed, and is pained when he realises “I make it sound like a con. So maybe I’m not cut out for that.” When he finally admits his failings and weaknesses, it takes work, and Ryan is not sympathetic (and would you expect him to be?). Graham is the one who, despite all his contempt and anger for Aaron earlier in S11 and this very episode, is sympathetic enough to reach out to the man who he was once afraid would take his grandson away. He’s old enough to ask why Aaron didn’t come to Grace’s funeral for his own sake, to break down the last barrier – that Aaron was scared to accept the death.

While Aaron will go on to help stop the Dalek, the way S11 runs, the moment he breaks and admits “I wish I was better at life” and can express his failings so they can be fixed is the point where he can be redeemed. In S11, male characters have been repressed and needed to get past it to be better people, for their own sake and for others.

(Yaz, neatly, does not need that – her immediate response is to help Ryan, telling him that he and his dad can have a conversation in a very nearby café. Also the Doctor, the voice of the show’s moral code, the character who bluntly cuts to the chase for Aaron where others don’t: “You let him down.”)

And with humans done, the Dalek.

The Recon Dalek is one of the most formidable showings we’ve seen from the pepperpots in years. It’s cruel, it’s cunning, it has the highest on-screen bodycount of the entire series, it takes the Doctor’s entire team to stop it and then keeps coming anyway. It also gets a whole new bag of tricks we’ve not seen from a Dalek before, as now it can forcibly control another’s body and outgun a bloody tank. When it wipes out soldiers, smoke drifts over a battlefield like you’ve just watched a war drama.

And with the creature loose from its armour and possessing Lin half the time, we get a new reading on old cliché lines like “you are an enemy of the Daleks”. There’s a glee in it when it comes through a human mouth. ‘Lin’ smiles when she kills; the Dalek is enjoying this. This nastiness brings us back to the recurring horror beats of S11. The Dalek is scary again. (The massacre of GCHQ is a good example: nothing but distant, terrified screaming as SOMETHING comes your way. Also the clear pain Aaron’s in when the Dalek is jammed into his spine.)

But there’s more there. This is the Dalek equivalent of The Woman Who Fell To Earth.

The Dalek is completely unarmed and powerless and unaware where it is when it pops up in Sheffield, just like the Doctor was. The Dalek turns to the nearest people for aid, just as the Doctor did. The Dalek has to improvise with what’s around it to defeat a better-armed foe, just as she did. And just like the Doctor built her new sonic, the Dalek constructs its new shell out of scrap and welding. The Doctor is aware how the Dalek thinks, and it thinks a lot like she does.

As with last episode, the Doctor is using technobabble a lot more than she does in most of S11 – but this time, it’s barely working. Instead of being a handy resolution for a plot, it’s part of a battle of wits against a Dalek. Have a magic scanner? The Dalek can block it. Hack the city’s traffic cameras? The Dalek knew you would. Hack satellites? Not enough. Eventually what does stop it is practical engineering with the microwave, but even there, the Dalek adapts.

All of this, again, the sort of thing the Doctor does! The Dalek even ignores when the Doctor mocks its apparent weakness, just as she ignored Tim Shaw in her first go. Just as in Dalek, they’re two sides of the coin but unlike that story (or Inside The Dalek), it’s more that the Dalek would make a good Doctor. The Doctor wins, sure, but it’s a very close thing. How does she win in the end? As she did in Woman Who Fell, collaborating with a group of disparate people with something to offer. The Dalek, in the end, has no one but the Dalek, and that’s what beats it. One last thing: “I’m so sorry, UNIT operations have been suspended pending review… following financial disputes and subsequent funding withdrawal by the UK’s major international partners.” If you have to write UNIT out for a story, that’s a hilarious way to do it.  Nobody wanted to pay for defending Earth. That’s a political jab that’s not likely to age for a long time! ** Tomorrow, S12 starts. We’ve seen more monsters in the trailer than S11 had. There’s implications of an arc. S12 may be quite different from S11, it may go for a bigger scope and more monstrous foes that are monsters, and that can lead to good episodes. But S11 was something new – it was a version of the show where smaller stakes were still important, where practical work saved the day, where the alien could be benign and the humans the great threat. It stands as a model of another way you can do the show.

[zooterchet]

Work for US Navy (Extra-Range Station, Megaman MUSH)

Leadership:

"Duo": Shaun Wilcox, Hawaiian Coastal Engineer, US Navy Japan.

"Libra": James Holmes, DC Comics Development, Mossad Counter-Bay Station.

"Leo": Jeffrey Lange, Cleveland Rotary Association, Finance and Debitures Apartment.

Duo:

"Blueberry": Police code on APB scanner, to catch "ranger patrols", off cented Mounted and Royal Mounted sections (Canadian-German, Protestant Universalist).

"WTC Location Grab": Profiling of Osama Bin Laden, three days after 9/11, to DC Comics Location and Transition Wards, Mossad Afghanistan; Tora Bora Prison Complex.

"San Andreas": Capture of Toris Nelby, British Co Anchor Author, "Crack Underground"; while in live transit of threat of CIA agent Peter Tsapatsaris, "Nails", posing as "Peebo" on internet as fraud of Russian-Jewry infiltrating CIA Annex Three; Winchester Frauds, IDF Biotech Experiments. Toris Nelby, "Peebo", detained and "destroyed", by fired rounds, from Eric Frein.

Libra:

"British Exemplar": Takeover of Japan by Warerra Party, masquerading Clone Wars film, recently released, by "Lucas Arts", as actual factual plan of attack; Pearl Harbor, as represented by "Kleinmen", Rohypnol dealers for Mossad.

"Gutwill Five": Seizure of criminal resources and allies of Framingham Narcotics, rogue Israeli Defense Forces section of Massachusetts cops, out of Jewish gangsters in Ohio; biker gangs, Canadian Freemasons.

Leo:

"Assassin's Creed": Creation of Assassin's Creed concept, as alternative to parents pamphlets to place children in Mossad underground as "Moslems" or "Mussulman".

"Guantanamo Live Range Agent": Use of third degree interrogator's training from mother's Marine NCO doctor, "Glen", to hunt his killers inside INTERPOL's top ranks; Gwenn Pratt, John Washburne, Steven Charlebois, Brian Monaghan, Alexandra Gaetano, and John Kerry.

"Philips Freemasons of Boston": Stage point of removal of Ted Bundy catchem code, to take over Boston Triads for FBI and State Police, through Cyber Command aegis helix on Los Angeles Police Department server scans; return of Chinese to American policing, as FBI informants and cover agents, against rising tide of Taiwanese nationalism; unions and Russian-Jewish consortiums of film and media logic.

"Pinkville": The strike on the Hell's Angels as a capture turn of the Canadian Freemasons for operating criminal ventures in factories, sports leagues, and boarding schools, to turn children into slaves and writers and prison convicts; the French and British Freemasonic attempt to undo Bill Clinton's peace for labor, athletics, and prison inmates.

"Hideous Karl": Use of Jack Unterweger's serial killer profile, tying a necktie for a business meeting, taught by Scoutmasters in male and female scout troops, for any career or American act, to pen research work for Christopher Nolan, MGM, and FOX.

"The Steroids Scandal": Outing American-Japanese pharmaceuticals, and MI-6 doctors, for selling performance enhancing steroids, Suboxone, for decades, under different brands and claim of brands; the public lawsuit against Dr. Joshua Golden, of United Health Associates, by the Attorney General of Massachusetts, Maura Healey.

"The Kennedy Campaign": Legalized marijuana, certified safe and non-sprayed by tree surgeons elected by towns, free from media myth presented on Holland and British telecasts, or by journalist work by High Times magazines authors. Held under tax stamps, through the State Police.

"Spiral": The culmination of three decades of work, as an NSA, from kindergarten to the mid-thirties, in the takedowns of INTERPOL, On Leong Tong, the Unitarian Church, and MI-6. The culmination of years of experience, placed in two blog reformatories, "Lex Luthor and the Sudbury Boys", and "Spiral - The Batman Killer", the prior academic references, the latter actual career references. The shutdown of the "United Nations Security Council", by planting a forged work on American Marxism from 2003, from an economics business professor at UMass-Amherst, Gerald Friedman, through the actual United Nations; published independently overseas, by those dependent on the United Nations as an American CIA entity; falsely framed as MI-6. The same NSA trick, used on Stephen Glass, a Vatican affiliated lawyer out of the Italian government's Nortel structure.

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 10.1

331 BC – Alexander the Great defeats Darius III of Persia in the Battle of Gaugamela. 366 – Pope Damasus I is consecrated. 959 – Edgar the Peaceful becomes king of all England, in succession to Eadwig. 965 – Pope John XIII is consecrated. 1553 – Coronation of Queen Mary I of England. 1588 – Coronation of Shah Abbas I of Persia. 1730 – Ahmed III is forced to abdicate as the Ottoman sultan. 1779 – The city of Tampere, Finland (belonging to Sweden at this time) is founded by King Gustav III of Sweden. 1787 – Russians under Alexander Suvorov defeat the Turks at Kinburn. 1791 – First session of the French Legislative Assembly. 1795 – More than a year after the Battle of Sprimont, the Austrian Netherlands (present-day Belgium) are officially annexed by Revolutionary France. 1800 – Via the Third Treaty of San Ildefonso, Spain cedes Louisiana to France, which would sell the land to the United States thirty months later. 1814 – Opening of the Congress of Vienna, intended to redraw Europe's political map after the defeat of Napoleon the previous spring. 1827 – Russo-Persian War: The Russian army under Ivan Paskevich storms Yerevan, ending a millennium of Muslim domination of Armenia. 1829 – South African College is founded in Cape Town, South Africa. It will later separate into the University of Cape Town and the South African College Schools. 1832 – Texian political delegates convene at San Felipe de Austin to petition for changes in the governance of Mexican Texas. 1861 – Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management is published, going on to sell 60,000 copies in its first year and remaining in print until the present day. 1887 – Balochistan is conquered by the British Empire. 1890 – Yosemite National Park is established by the U.S. Congress. 1891 – Stanford University opens its doors in California, United States. 1898 – The Vienna University of Economics and Business Administration is founded under the name k.u.k. Exportakademie. 1903 – Baseball: The Boston Americans play the Pittsburgh Pirates in the first game of the modern World Series. 1908 – Ford Model T automobiles are offered for sale at a price of US$825. 1910 – A large bomb destroys the Los Angeles Times building, killing 21. 1918 – World War I: The Egyptian Expeditionary Force captures Damascus. 1918 – Sayid Abdullah becomes the last Khan of Khiva. 1928 – The Soviet Union introduces its first five-year plan. 1931 – The George Washington Bridge in the United States, linking New Jersey and New York, is opened. 1931 – Clara Campoamor persuades the Constituent Cortes to enfranchise women in Spain's new constitution. 1936 – Spanish Civil War: Francisco Franco is named head of the Nationalist government of Spain. 1936 – Spanish Civil War: The Central Committee of Antifascist Militias of Catalonia dissolves itself, handing control of Catalan defence militias over to the Generalitat. 1938 – Germany annexes the Sudetenland. 1939 – World War II: After a one-month siege, German troops occupy Warsaw. 1940 – The Pennsylvania Turnpike, often considered the first superhighway in the United States, opens to traffic. 1942 – World War II: USS Grouper torpedoes Lisbon Maru, not knowing that she is carrying British prisoners of war from Hong Kong. 1943 – World War II: After the Four Days of Naples, Allied troops enter the city. 1946 – Nazi leaders are sentenced at the Nuremberg trials. 1946 – The Daegu October Incident occurs in Allied-occupied Korea. 1947 – The North American F-86 Sabre flies for the first time. 1949 – The People's Republic of China is established. 1953 – Andhra State is formed, consisting of a Telugu-speaking area carved out of India's Madras State. 1953 – A Mutual Defense Treaty Between the United States and the Republic of Korea is concluded in Washington, D.C. 1955 – The Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region is established. 1957 – First appearance of In God we trust on U.S. paper currency. 1958 – The National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics is replaced by NASA. 1960 – Nigeria gains independence from the United Kingdom. 1961 – The United States Defense Intelligence Agency is formed, becoming the country's first centralized military intelligence organization. 1961 – East and West Cameroon merge to form the Federal Republic of Cameroon. 1961 – The CTV Television Network, Canada's first private television network, is launched. 1964 – The Free Speech Movement is launched on the campus of the University of California, Berkeley. 1964 – Japanese Shinkansen ("bullet trains") begin high-speed rail service from Tokyo to Osaka. 1966 – West Coast Airlines Flight 956 crashes with no survivors in Oregon. This accident marks the first loss of a DC-9. 1968 – Guyana nationalizes the British Guiana Broadcasting Service, which would eventually become part of the National Communications Network, Guyana. 1969 – Concorde breaks the sound barrier for the first time. 1971 – Walt Disney World opens near Orlando, Florida. 1971 – The first practical CT scanner is used to diagnose a patient. 1975 – Muhammad Ali defeats Joe Frazier in a boxing match in Manila, Philippines. 1978 – Tuvalu gains independence from the United Kingdom. 1979 – Pope John Paul II begins his first pastoral visit to the United States. 1979 – The MTR, the rapid transit railway system in Hong Kong, opens. 1982 – Helmut Kohl replaces Helmut Schmidt as Chancellor of Germany through a constructive vote of no confidence. 1982 – Epcot opens at Walt Disney World in Florida. 1982 – Sony and Phillips launch the compact disc in Japan. On the same day, Sony released the model CDP-101 compact disc player, the first player of its kind. 1985 – Israel-Palestinian conflict: Israel attacks the Palestine Liberation Organization headquarters in Tunisia during "Operation Wooden Leg". 1987 – The 5.9 Mw  Whittier Narrows earthquake shakes the San Gabriel Valley with a Mercalli intensity of VIII (Severe), killing eight and injuring 200. 1989 – Denmark introduces the world's first legal same-sex registered partnerships. 1991 – Croatian War of Independence: The Siege of Dubrovnik begins. 1994 – Palau enters a Compact of Free Association with the United States. 2000 – Israel-Palestinian conflict: Palestinians protest the murder of 12-year-old Muhammad al-Durrah by the Israeli police in northern Israel, beginning the "October 2000 events". 2001 – Militants attack the state legislature building in Kashmir, killing 38. 2009 – The Supreme Court of the United Kingdom takes over the judicial functions of the House of Lords. 2012 – A ferry collision off the coast of Hong Kong kills 38 people and injures 102 others. 2014 – A series of explosions at a gunpowder plant in Bulgaria completely destroys the factory, killing 15 people. 2014 – A double bombing of an elementary school in Homs, Syria kills over 50 people. 2015 – A gunman kills nine people at a community college in Oregon. 2015 – Heavy rains trigger a major landslide in Guatemala, killing 280 people. 2017 – An independence referendum, declared illegal by the Constitutional Court of Spain, takes place in Catalonia. 2017 – Fifty-eight people are killed and 869 others injured in a mass shooting at a country music festival at the Las Vegas Strip in the United States; the gunman, Stephen Paddock, later commits suicide. 2018 – The International Court of Justice rules that Chile is not obliged to negotiate access to the Pacific Ocean with Bolivia.

[newstfionline]

Headlines

The world’s most expensive cities (Economist) For the first time in its 30-year history, the Worldwide Cost of Living Survey from The Economist Intelligence Unit gives the title of the world’s most expensive city to three places. Singapore marks its sixth straight year at the top of the rankings, and is joined there by Hong Kong and Paris. The survey, which compares prices across 160 products and services, finds that living costs in all three cities are 7% higher than in New York, the benchmark city. Two Swiss cities, Zurich and Geneva, and Osaka in Japan also have higher prices than New York; Copenhagen and Seoul cost the same as the Big Apple. Strong economic growth in the United States in 2018 led to a sharp appreciation of the dollar and a rise up the rankings for 14 of the 16 American cities for which prices are collected. The highest climbers were San Francisco (up 12 places to 25th) and Houston (up to 30th from 41st); New York itself moved up six spots to seventh and Los Angeles rose by four places to tenth.

Donald Trump impeached (Foreign Policy) President Donald Trump became just the third president in U.S. history to be impeached on Wednesday, as the U.S. House of Representatives voted 230 to 197 and 229 to 198 to charge him with obstruction of Congress and abuse of power, respectively. The votes mostly fell along party lines, after lawmakers engaged in nearly 12 hours of debate over the articles of impeachment. But Trump, the first to face impeachment heading into an election year, is almost certainly not going to be removed from office after a trial in the Republican-held Senate.

U.S. deports Mexicans far from border, may send others to Guatemala (Reuters) The United States began flying Mexican deportees to the interior of Mexico on Thursday and a senior U.S. official said Mexicans seeking U.S. asylum could be sent to Guatemala, as the Trump administration seeks to further limit border crossings.

Chilean lawmakers approve popular vote on Pinochet-era constitution (Reuters) Chile’s Congress on Thursday gave the green light to a referendum on changing the country’s constitution next year, a central demand of protesters whose mobilizations brought the nation virtually to a standstill over the past eight weeks.

Scottish leader calls for second independence referendum (Foreign Policy) Scottish First Minister Nicola Sturgeon will demand the right to hold a new independence referendum today--a challenge to Prime Minister Boris Johnson and the British Parliament, which must approve of any plan for a new vote. Sturgeon will request that Parliament transfer that power to Scotland’s legislature, setting up a potential constitutional showdown.

Catalan separatist leader jailed by Spain had immunity as an MEP: EU court (Reuters) A Catalan separatist leader jailed by Spain was entitled to immunity as a member of the European Parliament, the EU’s highest court ruled on Thursday in a decision that could put Brussels on a collision course with Spanish authorities.

French PM, unions fail to break pension strike deadlock as Christmas looms (Reuters) The French government failed to break the deadlock over a planned overhaul of the pension system on Thursday, prompting union leaders to reaffirm the continuation of strikes over the Christmas holiday season.

Lights out for multilateralism? Alarm as U.N. faces cash squeeze. (Reuters) During talks on disarmament at the U.N.’s Geneva headquarters last month, alarm bells went off in the chamber to indicate that delegates had infringed new cost-cutting rules that restrict the length of meetings. Screens and microphones were also shut off, forcing ambassadors to shout their speeches across the hall.

Russian security officer dead, 5 injured in Moscow shooting (AP) An unidentified gunman opened fire Thursday outside the Moscow headquarters of Russia’s top security agency, killing one officer and wounding five others, officials said. The FSB said the shooting occurred near its main headquarters on Lubyanka Square, less than one kilometer from Red Square.

Turkey pitches refugee resettlement plan (Foreign Policy) Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan recently presented the United Nations with a detailed plan to resettle 1 million Syrian refugees along a 20-mile stretch of Turkey’s border with northern Syria, FP’s Colum Lynch and Lara Seligman report. The plan would require more than $26 billion in foreign aid, with Turkey promising access to schools, hospitals, mosques, and sports arenas. If it goes forward, it would be one of the largest public construction projects on occupied land in modern history.

India’s Protesters Dig In Their Heels (Foreign Policy) Thousands of people nationwide marched against India’s new citizenship law again on Wednesday, in part in response to alleged police brutality against student protesters. In recent days, India’s government has sought to clamp down on the protests. Authorities in New Delhi imposed an emergency law that prohibits large gatherings after clashes between demonstrators and police--many on Muslim-majority university campuses. Today, the state of Karnataka enacted a similar ban in at least three cities including Bengaluru, where multinational companies such as Uber and Walmart’s Flipkart are based. India has also responded with its preferred tactic: shutting down the internet in affected areas.

Nationwide digital surveillance (NYT) China is ramping up its ability to spy on its nearly 1.4 billion people to new and disturbing levels, giving the world a blueprint for how to build a digital totalitarian state. Chinese authorities are knitting together old and state-of-the-art technologies--phone scanners, facial-recognition cameras, face and fingerprint databases and many others--into sweeping tools for authoritarian control, according to police and private databases examined by The New York Times. Once combined and fully operational, the tools can help police grab the identities of people as they walk down the street, find out who they are meeting with and identify who does and doesn’t belong to the Communist Party. The United States and other countries use some of the same techniques to track terrorists or drug lords. Chinese cities want to use them to track everybody.

2 Firefighters Die, 3 Hurt as Wildfires Ravage Australia (AP) Two volunteer firefighters died Thursday while battling wildfires ravaging Australia’s most populous state, forcing Prime Minister Scott Morrison to cut short his family holiday as authorities braced for temperatures to soar in New South Wales at the weekend.

Libyan Force Attacking Tripoli Gives Militias 3-Day Deadline (AP) A Libyan force fighting to capture the country’s capital from the U.N.-supported government based in Tripoli on Friday gave the militias defending the city a three-day deadline to pull out.

Nigeria’s Ex-Attorney General Held by Financial Crimes Agency Over $1.3 Billion Oil Deal (Reuters) Nigeria’s former attorney general was detained by the country’s financial crimes agency upon his return home on Thursday, the commission said in a statement, as part of an investigation into one of the oil industry’s biggest suspected corruption scandals.