#david philips

[wipbigbang]

WIP BIG BANG SIGN-UPS ARE LIVE!

The 2024 round of WIP Big Bang is now open for sign-ups! Any fandom is welcome, as long as the fic is 500 completed so far and will be at least 7,500 words upon its finishing. Signing up is easy: just fill out the form linked below after you read the FAQ and take a look at the schedule.

[coping-via-clint-eastwood]

Sorry, I only have 12 spaces

Please reblog. I want more engagement.

[mistysblueboxstuff]

Reference vs art 🎨

[chrisitsraining]

it seems youve landed yourself a blind date with a dead by daylight character! why dont you open the door and see who your date is?

🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪

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🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪

🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪

🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪

🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪     🚪

which door? you know :) 

(btw if you get a mix tape... thats a member of the legion)

[garadinervi]

«Aspen», the magazine in a box, Vol. 1 No. 8, Roaring Fork Press, New York, NY, 1966 [Walker Art Center, Minneapolis, MN]

Feat.: David Antin, Terry Atkinson, Jo Baer, Michael Baldwin, Philip Glass, Dan Graham, Jackson Mac Low, George Maciunas, Robert Morris, Dennis Oppenheim, Yvonne Rainer, Steve Reich, Edward Ruscha, Richard Serra, Robert Smithson, La Monte Young

[perfides-subjekt]

As they walked along the sound of squibs was still heard periodically. An occasional shower of golden rain illuminated the sky. “Good night for a murder,” remarked Japp with professional interest. “Nobody would hear a shot, for instance, on a night like this.” “It has always seemed odd to me that more criminals do not take advantage of the fact,” said Hercule Poirot. “Do you know, Poirot, I almost wish sometimes that you would commit a murder.” “Mon cher!” “Yes, I’d like to see just how you’d set about it.” “My dear Japp, if I committed a murder you would not have the least chance of seeing — how I set about it! You would not even be aware, probably, that a murder had been committed.”

“Murder in the Mews” was first published in the USA in Redbook Magazine, September/October 1936, then as “Mystery of the Dressing Case” in Woman’s Journal, December 1936.

Air date: 15 January 1989.

[kweerfish]

milling around behind-the-scenes of The Walking Dead (2010-2022). pictured between Seasons Three and Four.

[acecroft]

DAVID MORRISSEY as Philip 'The Governor' Blake in The Walking Dead 4.07

[fallmisery]

New PWHL Montréal content again! The questions this time : What should be the name of the Montréal team? & What should be on the jerseys?

[davidhudson]

Philip Johnson, July 8, 1906 – January 25, 2005.

With Andy Warhol. 1965 photo by David McCabe.

[coping-via-clint-eastwood]

Snowman Stocking Hook of Death - a CSI Christmas murder

(A/N: Aite so I got the prompt for this LAST year, but it took me too long to write, and I missed the posting date of 25-05-2021. So, here it is this year. Here's the said prompt:

Here's another irl item I incorporated into the story and why:

Useful links to resources I used when checking facts for this story -

http://www.forensicsciencesimplified.org/csi/how.html

https://coronertalk.com/28

https://www.crime-scene-investigator.net/evidenc3.html

https://science.howstuffworks.com/csi.htm

Warning:  mentions of parental abuse.  Yes I somehow incorporated it...*sigh*  :')

It wasn't necessary to add Nick in for such a small crime scene, but a friend of mine wanted him in the fic. Besides, I wouldn't have the GSR moment if he hadn't come in.

Just the heads up - this fic is nowhere near as good as what you'd see in canon. I'm sorry; I have no experience writing forensics stories. You are more than welcome to throw eggs at me.)

Grissom poked through the desk drawers of the bedroom he was in, photographing the contents before he disturbed them. He found a WLVU student ID. He took some shots of it then lifted it out of the drawer, carefully walking amidst all the blood drops to Sara, who was processing the outside area of the flat. "Celia Dashner, twenty-three years old. She was a tech student," he read out to her; that last piece of information was not on the ID, but Grissom had spotted a textbook lying on the desk.

Before Sara could respond, David entered the flat, with a,"You'd think people would hold off on murdering each other for the holiday season at least."

"Are you. Gonna say that to Nick when he gets here? Like how you kept repeating 'you'd think she'd know better than to wear white on the bride's big day' during the Diane Chase case?" Sara returned, turning her face from her camera to look at him, making her husband snort with laughter; ever since they had announced their relationship, Gil allowed himself to be more expressive in public, especially when he was responding to Sara.

"I-" David was taken aback.

Before he could say anything else however, Nick came in, saying, "Man, you'd think people would hold off on murdering each other for the holiday season at least." The Grissoms looked at each other, then at David, who was smirking. At their silence, Nick asked, "...what?"

"We'll tell you later. Body's in the bedroom."  Grissom answered, turning to David as he said the last part.

David was still smiling smugly. "Shut up," Sara quipped. He raised his hands in mock surrender and headed over to the body. The CSIs followed him.

"Apparent cause of death is blunt force trauma to the head, caused by...that."  Grissom swept the beam of his torchlight over to the bloody snowman stocking hook that lay close to the body.  But there was a perculiarity about it.  "Stocking hook...but no stockings anywhere.  Not dropped on the floor, not anywhere in the shelf."

The other object of interest that lay on the floor was a small bell with a Santa figurine on it.  It had fallen a little distance away, just at the bottom of the shelf.  On the top, there was a space where the two objects would fit snugly if they were placed there.

Nodding towards the murder weapon, Nick piped up, "My mom bought one of those for the house last Christmas. It's pretty heavy. I'd say two, three strikes would do the job? Maybe four?" Nick piped up.

Gil bobbed his head a few times, then speculated, "Are we sure that the cause of death is this straightforward?"

"Well. My teacher would say that science will tell us if how things look is how they really are." She smiled at her husband, and he smiled right back at her.

Of course, Grissom was professional as always and brought their attention back to the body.  "Look at how she's lying.  Her knees are bent.  She must've been falling while she was being hit, rather than being on the floor with the killer over her."  He shone his torch on the bell.  "And what about that?"

"It probably dropped off when the killer grabbed the hook and brushed it past the bell," Sara said.  Grissom and Nick nodded.

"Lividity is fixed, rigor is starting in the face, and liver temp is eighty-nine point six degrees Fahrenheit.  She's been dead around six hours. There's nothing in her pockets. We'll know more after the autopsy," David said.

"So she's been lying here since one am...who called it in?"  Grissom voiced.

"Brass was talking to the neighbor, Lindsey Henderson. Apparently, they were supposed to go for a jog like they do every morning. When Celia didn't answer the door, she called the landlord. They opened the door and found her like this," Sara answered, gesturing to the person lying on the floor.

Grissom nodded in acknowledgment. "David, we'll let you know when you can take her away."

"Okay." He went to wait outside.

Brass popped in.  "Vic's name was Celia Dashner. She was a twenty-three-year-old tech student at WLVU. She was supposed to be alone last night, so that narrows the field.  I couldn't find anything else out.  I'm gonna go over to the school and do some asking around."

"Okay.  Nick, you're with him," Gil said.

Nick nodded, "Okay," and went with the detective.

As for Gil and Sara, they kept looking to see what they could find.  Once all the blood spatter was accounted for and documented, David was given the go-ahead to take the body away.  The CSIs found information regarding Dashner's classes, schedules, and so on.  Sara texted Nick to drop the details, along with all the photos he might need.  A continued search yielded a phone and a laptop.  After collecting prints and DNA, they were bagged to be carted off to Archie.  They also collected various hair samples that did not match the victim. 

"There's not much left here to do with the actual event...killer knew their business," Sara said.

"Yeah.  And the weapon used was one of opportunity.  I think the killer wanted to talk to the vic, then they got into an argument, and things escalated from there."  Sara nodded at her husband's plausible theory.  They headed back to the lab, giving the evidence to Archie, Mandy and Wendy respectively.

Meanwhile at the school, Nick and Jim were talking to the headmaster, Mrs.  Millers.  "That's terrible!  I can't imagine who would do such a thing!"  the lady cried, a look of horror and shallow grief on her face, the kind of grief experience when a loss that was not particularly close to you but that one still cared about in a general sense occured.

"We're gonna need to take a look at Celia's records, as well as speak to everyone in her classes," Brass said.

Millers had to nod a few times.  "Yeah, of course, anything to help the investigation."

"We appreciate your cooperation," Nick said.

So the principal brought them to the records room and handed the file to them.  Then, she brought them to Dashner's class, stopping at the door.  She raised a hand to knock, but then hesitatd.  She turned to them and pleaded, "Wait here."  Finally, she knocked the door.  The teacher stopped with his hands in mid-air with how he was gesticulating, his head turned towards the door.  The more attentive of his students were looking at the door too.  Millers enteref walked up to the teacher at the front of the classroom, and the lecturer turned his body where his head was facing.  "Mister Jameson," Millers called.

"Yes, ma'am?"  the teacher inquired, looking over her at the men outside bearing law enforcement credentials.  Even though he was much younger than his boss, he had a lot of white hair due to lack of regular sleep.  And, like most chronic screen starers, he wore a pair of glasses, rectangular and black-rimmed.

Mrs.  Millers looked at the students, then back at him; he could see that she was upset about something.  "May I talk to you outside?"

Jameson looked at his students and instructed, "Finish up the line of code," then followed his superior out into the vestibule.

"Connor, these are CSI Nick Stokes and detective James Brass.  They're with the Las Vegas crime lab."

"Mister Jameson..."  Nick softened his eyes, his eyebrows frowning slightly as he prepared himself for what he had to say, his head tilting to one side a little as he made a small swallow.  "Celia...your student...was found murdered in her apartment this morning."

Jameson's jaw dropped open slightly.  He seemed to want to say something, but was struggling to do so.  Brass said, "We're gonna need to talk to everyone in this class, including you.  We're also need to take your prints and DNA."

"Prints?  DNA?  A-are we suspects?"  His eyes darted about from one man to another.

"It'll help us to rule you out," Nick told him gently.

Jameson inhaled, then exhaled, his shoulders heaving.  "How'm I gonna tell my students?"

"I can handle it,"  Mrs.  Millers said kindly, putting a hand on Connor's shoulder.

He exhaled shakily through his mouth and nodded a few times.  "Y-yeah...thank you..."  Millers smiled a small smile at him, then went inside, Nick and Jim following her, with Jameson tailing timidly behind.

"All right everyone, I have something really important to tell you.  She looked at Nick and Brass, then back at the students.  "Celia...the reason she isn't here today, is that she was found dead in her apartment."  Instant murmuring and exchanging of glances ensued.  "CSI Stokes and detective Brass are here to investigate the matter.  They're gonna wanna speak to each and every one of you, as well as take your fingerprints, and your DNA."  That, especially the last part, increased the uproar.  Skillfully, the headmaster put her hands out peaceably and made her voice rise over the noise without having to yell, saying, "It's so that they can eliminate you as suspects."  Of course, the students were still uncomfortable about the matter, but they knew not to go against what the principal said, and so they quietened down.  Mrs.  Millers looked to Jim and Nick, indicating that they could go ahead.

"Thank you," Nick said.  Millers nodded.

"All right everyone, I'm gonna need you to form a line in front of mister Stokes.  Once he's done with you, you come to me to give me your statements.  You too mister Jameson," Jim called out, gesturing to Nick then in front of himself.  "All right let's go."  He clapped his hands.  Everyone did as they were told, with Jameson being first in line.

Nick collected what he needed, then dismissed him with a, "Thank you very much sir, please proceed to my friend over there."  He spoke like this, gentle, sweetly and politely, to everyone.

Connor took small, trudging steps to Jim.  "So, tell me about your student."

"She was good in her class," Connor said, keeping his head down, one hand clasping the wrist on his other hand.  "Quiet, not that many friends, but close with the ones she had."  He glanced over the a cluster of students at the back of the line; they seemed deeply bereaved, so they had joined the queue with much hesitation, while the rest of their classmates were more somber with the realisation that someone they knew had been taken too soon.  "Those were her best friends.  They all stuck together.  If you wanna find out anything that could really help you, you should ask them."

"Is there anyone absent today besides Celia?"  Jim asked.  Jameson shook his head.  "Okay, thanks very much.  That will be all.  But stay in town; I might wanna ask you more questions later."  Jameson nodded and took his leave.  Everyone else got the same dismissal reminder to remain in Vegas during the course of the investigation.  When everyone had given their prints amd DNA to Nick, he took half of what was left of Brass' queue.

Eventually, it was just Celia's friends left, so Nick and Jim questioned them all together.  "She never hurt anybody.  I can't imagine who would do this," Jamie sniffled, eyes red and her head down, her hands cluthing her jacket on her arms to herself.

Brian was standing next to her, his hand on her shoulder.  "Is there anything we can do?"  he asked, keeping himself together better than anyone else in the group.

"Just cooperate with our investigation and help us do our best to find Celia's killer," Nick said genially.  He took out his phone.  "Now what my team and I are really curious about is this," he said, showing them the picture of the bell.

That caused Jamie to crack a small smile.  "Celia's had it for a long time.  She bought it as soon as she moved out of her parents' house; it gave her company.  And when she got lonely, she'd ring it.  She never needed to use it when we went to visit."  Then, her own words affected her.  "And now..." A fresh cry started up.  "We'll never do that again..."  Davy, another friend, rubbed her shoulder and back while Brian still had his hold on her.

They were all feeling that emptiness, that void that had been left behind by the person who was once in their lives, who was now forcibly removed from them permanently.  And, they knew and felt, too, the meaning of the further loss, that they would never be with each other again; no new memories would be created, which was what triggered Jamie's crying.  They could only hold on to what they already had.

"What about the stocking hook she had?  The snowman one?  We didn't find any stockings at the scene."  Nick did not want to show them the picture of the object with their friend's blood on it.

"Yeah, it's the same.  I mean, same reason as-...as-as why she bought the bell," Brian said.

"Is there no one at all who'd have a motive?  Anybody she had a fight with...?"  Jim voiced.

Davy shook their head.  "No.  Celia kept to herself.  It was either that or sticking to one or all of us."

"What about her family?"  That was Jim again.

"When Jamie said she 'left her parents' house', she really meant Celia'd left; she broke away from them and hasn't seen any of her family in a long time," Brian answered.

"How did she fund her tuition?"  Jim asked.

"Full scholarship.  She was brilliant. She also had a gig being the assisstant manager at the cafe across her house," Brian said.

"Could any of her family have found her?"  Nick left his question as it was, for everyone knew what he was implying.

Jamie shook her head, but still stared at the floor, the jacket being hugged loosely in her arms now.  "They haven't heard from each other in years.  There's no way they could've found her.  Besides, Celia would have been much better at tracking and avoiding being tracked through devices anyway."

Jim and raised an eyebrow and looked at Nick.  "Well..."  he looked back at Jamie, "tracking was possible before contemporary technology."

"No, Celia didn't leave any paper trail.  She was careful not to," Davy said.

"How do you know?"  Jim challenged.

"She told us everything, even the worst stuff of what her parents did to her," Davy returned.

Jim nodded, "Okay.  Um, what other classes did Celia have?  And did she have any extracurricular activities?" 

"No.  Celia wanted to focus on this class only," Davy said.

"Did she have any other friends besides you?"

"She didn't mix with anyone outside of class," Brian answered.

Jim bobbed his head a few times, glancing over his notes.  Then he asked one more time, "Is there anything else you can tell us that might help?  Any odd changes in behaviour recently, even anything that might seem like just a quirk..."

They all thought.  "Well... sometimes, when we were with her, it seemed like she was keeping something to herself.  We figured she'd tell us when she was ready, but now..."  His eyes were downcast.

"Hey.  Listen to me," Nick said; Brian met his eyes.  "Her death is not your fault.  You were being nothing but a good friend by not pushing her.  She'd want you to remember that."  Brian smiled a tight smile from one side of his mouth.

That was all the information Nick and Jim could gather.  So they left the school to return to the lab.  Nick went to drop off the samples with Mandy and Wendy while Jim went to update Grissom and Sara.

Nick went to Mandy first.  When she saw how many samples she had to run, her jaw dropped.  Nick grinned playfully and quirked his eyebrows as he held up the ten-cards.  "Well...at least we have a good chance of a match," Mandy said.

"Yeah," Nick agreed as he put the evidence on the counter.

"Before I start running all these, I'd like you to do something for me," Mandy grinned.

"Oh yeah what's that?" Nick grinned too, mocking her.

"Sing for me."

Nick gave a scoffing laugh.  "You can only have me sing for you if you've found something big."

Mandy became docile but serious.  "Yeah well, it's been a while since I've heard you singing voice, and," she shrugged, "I miss it."

Nick smiled.  "Okay."  He sang, "Oh Mandy, well you came and you gave without taking.  But I sent you away."  Mandy signalled for him to stop.  "Oh Mandy."

Mandy was beaming.  "Thank you."

"Glad I could be of entertainment," he smirked back.  He headed to the DNA lab next.

As for Wendy, she reeled back for a few moments, her breath catching in her throat before it was released in a huff through her nose.  "Wow," was all she could say.

"Yeah...if the killer isn't in here, you can kill me," Nick said as he placed the swabs laying in neat rows.

"You know, I heard you singing for Mandy.  Maybe I should have you do that for me."

Nick laughed nervously, taking a step back and turning his head and body away.  "Oh, oh no," he chuckled, shaking his head as he turned back to Wendy.  "What, you got a song that uses the name 'Wendy'?"

" 'Wendy' and 'Mandy' sound very similar.  You could just swap the names."  Nick begun to step away quickly.  "You're lucky I love you," Wendy teased.

"Yeah, I love you too," Nick smiled over his shoulder before walking away.

Jim found the Grissoms sitting on the guest's side of Gil's desk.  They had brought their chairs and bodies close together, so that their arms and legs were touching.  Even their heads were so close that they could kiss if they just turned them.  They were talking in hushed voices.  Sara passed Gilbert a mug of chocolate; they were evidently sharing it.  He felt sorry for interrupting their quiet moment, which was why he let Gil take his sip before knocking on the door politely.  In perfect synchronisation, they turned their heads and waists and looked at him, having turned facing each other.  Upon perceiving him, they faced the desk.  Gil set the mug down and they stood up, moving past the chairs to be closer to Jim.  "What've you got?"  Sara asked.

"Oh, you know, plenty," Jim played nonchalance, opening his notebook.  "You know, considering there's a whole classroom's worth of statements."

Gil and Sara were smiling.  Sweet as ever, Gil said, "All right, let's hear it," his soft voice gravelly and gentle.  And thus Jim gave them a full report of everything he knew.  When he was finished, Jim said, "I'm gonna go to the cafe and see what I can find.  Toodles."  Gil and Sara waved.  Unfortunately, Jim would find that there was nothing that could help them; no one knew the victim personally enough to want to kill her.

After that, Gil, Sara and Nick went to pay Al a visit.  Even though Nick was the lead investigator for the case, nobody else had anything to do until the print and DNA results were ready, and as of yet Archie had not found anything.

"COD's pretty straightforward; blunt force trauma to the head, penetrating the frontal and parietal bones through to the brain.  Wounding is consistent with the weapon you found at the scene.  The victim was struck thrice.  The first and second hits didn't break her skull; the third and final blow did.  I found no other wounds on her body, not even scabs or light bruising from sporting activities."

"Well her mates did say she was a chronic homebody," Nick said.

"Oh, sounds familiar," Sara piped up, looking at Gil, who turned to her with a raised eyebrow.  Nick and Al were grinning at them.

After the autopsy report, they went to do some more waiting, until Wendy texted Nick.  "All the blood at the scene was a match to the vic's.  Most of the hairs you found were from Davy, Brian and Jamie, but one of them was a match to the teacher, Connor Jameson," Wendy reported, handing the results sheet to Grissom, who took it and put on his glasses.

Since she was just in the next lab over, Mandy walked in to them.  "Hey.  I couldn't find any prints on the murder weapon.  Those bloody smudges you gave me weren't enough for a print; the material of the hook is horrible for prints.  I wish I had more exciting news."  She handed her report over to Sara.

"It's okay.  We'll find more," Nick said, charitable as always.

Just then, Grissom's phones chimed.  He took it out and read the text.  "It's Archie.  He says he's found something."  And just like that, he turned around and walked out of the lab.

"Thanks, guys," Nick said, starting to leave too.

"Thanks, guys," Sara repeated.

"You're welcome," they said at the same time.

They found Archie putting eyedrops in his eyes, sighing tiredly.  "What've you got for us, Arch?"  Nick asked.  Sara walked up to Archie and put a hand on the back of his shoulder comfortingly.

Archie closed the bottle and put it down before starting.  "It took me a really long while to find this; it was in a very secure folder," he said as he clicked on a few things and brought the displays up.

The CSIs went to look at them on the big screen.  "What're we looking at?"

"This is all documented proof that one Connor Jameson has been stealing large amounts of money in small increments via online transfer.  He's been stealing from multiple bank accounts; Celia's is one of them.  She's been investigating it for months."

Grisson raised an eyebrow at the name of the thief.  "Connor Jameson?  That's the vic's tech teacher," Nick piped up.

"This gives us motive," Gil pointed out.

"Jameson must've found out his student was looking into him, tried to get her to stop, and when she refused, he got desperate," Sara reasoned.

The Grissoms look at Nick to see if he agreed.  "I'll call Brass."

"You go on ahead.  Gil and I'll hang back here," Sara said as she and her husband joined hands, Gil looking away shyly.

Nick nodded.  "Okay."  And off he went.

Gil and Sara looked at each other.  Still holding hands, Gil led his wife to his office.  Then, when they were some way inside, Gil turned to face Sara and walked her backwards until she was against a wall, gently pinning his body on hers and pressing his lips to hers, his eyes closed.  Her eyes were closed too as she chuckled.  Yep, they were gonna bang when they went home.

[mistysblueboxstuff]

All seven calendars are still available in my ko-fi shop 🥰

[incorrectquotesconaisseur]

if I had a nickel for every fandom centered around david bowie songs that tore my heart out, stomped on it, burnt it to a crisp and left me damaged irreparably that tackles grief and found family and features heavy homoeroticism and repressed homosexuality, I'd have two nickels. which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice

[haveyouseenthisseries-poll]

[t-800]

“Lie still... It’s quicker that way.”

David Cronenberg as Philip K. Decker NIGHTBREED (1990) dir. Clive Barker

[yodeleyewho]