#emergency response codeword

[divergentchangelings]

Whiteboard Corner

Part 4: Emergency Response Codeword

We realized a while back that it was becoming mutually overwhelming to try to each keep track of every task that needed to be done & when & who's doing what & all of the other details along the way. We agreed to try a whiteboard which worked SO well that it actually created new problems. It was obvious we needed more whiteboards to keep track of everything but how many did we actually need?

Well, one whiteboard became 2, became 4, became 6 whiteboards of different sizes & qualities. But they worked! We were able to section out important routines & reminders then stick them together somewhere we could see them all: the Whiteboard Corner!

We didn't want to admit to ourselves & each other how much extra help we'd been needing but not having to rely on faulty memories or miscommunications anymore was a huge relief. We're still figuring all of this out but we wanted to share what's been working for us just in case it helps anyone else Going Through It. 

• "OK, but what kind of emergency is this for?"

Mental & emotional ones. Meltdowns, shutdowns, panic attacks, etc. Trying to navigate important conversations (or even the fun unimportant ones) while mutually emotionally disregulated can get very intense very fast. We both needed a way to say, "I'm FREAKING OUT & I need things to STOP IMMEDIATELY" but we also needed some kinda response protocol. Obviously there's no one-size-fits-all solution so instead of having multiple codewords, we agreed on one that's easy-to-remember, created a protocol that has options, & wrote it somewhere easy to see for the next time we'd need it.

• Emergency Response Codeword

It took us a while to find a codeword that stuck. It needed to be easy-to-remember but it also needed to be easy-to-say when we both deal with selective mutism & easy-to-understand when we both deal with audio processing issues. The one that won?

Jim.

Now we needed some kind of protocol that was adaptable but dependable, something that we could ACTUALLY do while losing it, something that we could write down & not need to remember.

Concept: a pause button that would allow us to calm down enough to return to conversations & activities, a way to force ourselves to stop & check in with ourselves, an understanding of the expectation to check in with each other, multiple effective options, & a reminder to double-check if we're each stable enough to restart.

JIM* Emergency Protocol:

1) E-Brakes!!

•pause stress + deep breaths

•check in on self + each other

2) Choose Options:

•quiet time     •distractions

•alone time    •together time

•hydration      •dopamine snacks

•sensory kit   •fidget toys

3) Double Check:

•reset

•restabilize

•restart

This is part 4 of a 6-part series:

• Part 1: To Do/Today/Done

• Part 2: Calender + Notes

• Part 3: MultiSensory Wakeup/Winddown

• Part 4: Emergency Response Codeword

• Part 5: Keeping Track

• Part 6: Bonus Activities

If you enjoy what we do, consider buying us a kofi!

*To further explain why we chose "JIM" as our codeword requires minor 🚨spoilers🚨 for The Stanley Parable: Ultra Deluxe so we've included that part under the cut:

It's very simple: either it means "I'm feeling A LOT like Jim right now" and/or it means "I'M ABOUT TO REPEATEDLY SLAM THAT BUTTON INTO THE FUCKING GROUND."

[influenceract]

Influencer Marketing Agency for assured ROI

The importance of social media and networking cannot be underestimated due to the current boom in technology that makes interactions easier. With emerging social media sites such as Instagram, YouTube, and so on, brands possess a vast clientele base that continues opening up in front of them. But how do brands outshine in such a swarming environment? The answer is influencers who act as a magical connection between the brands and the audience. Relying on the service of an influencer marketing agency is the key that makes your campaigns impressive for the intended brand recognition as well as a higher ROI.

The Groundbreaking Impact of Influencer Marketing 

Conventional promotion techniques may have been useful decades ago, but are not sufficient enough in the current world where everything is fast-paced. Apart from that, influencer marketing can be considered an innovative and more appealing method of reaching out to the target audience. Here’s why it’s revolutionizing the way brands market their products:

Good Engagement

Influencers are not mere content producers, they are community managers and have cultivated the trust of their audiences. It often seems like they’re simply showing snippets of their daily life when they’re recommending products. This leads to better consumer responses than conventional advertisements. For instance, a micro-influencer with 50k followers may cause more engagement than a billboard ad which can reach a million people.

ROI Speaking Volumes

When it comes to influencer marketing, it is not about spending haphazardly, but about where such spending is directed. Research indicates that influencer campaigns can yield up to 11 times the level of ROI than banners or PPC. When it comes to partnerships with influencers, brands need to choose the correct keystone to guarantee that each dollar spent results in tangible benefits. 

Cost Efficiency

Influencer marketing is versatile in all. It is possible to have many influential users with millions of followers or a few influential users with thousands of followers but with a specific audience. This shows that campaigns can be strategically positioned with respect to budgets without much compromise on their outcome. Micro-influencer marketing can be useful for small brands, who will achieve good turnout by cooperating with a team of micro-influencers for a relatively low price.

Easy Tracking of Growth

Businesses can monitor the success figures such as the reach, clicks, conversions, sales, and much more in real time. For instance, if a company in the fitness industry wants to launch a new set of protein shakes they can have an influencer endorse the product. Also, the number of individuals who clicked the specific URL or engaged the unique codeword to make a purchase can be tracked. This transparency makes it easier for brands to manage their strategies to fit the current environment.

Why Recruit an Influencer Marketing Agency?

An Influencer marketing agency works with a variety of influencers across different fields. They understand which influencer is right for your brand, your target market, and your marketing objectives. Thus, they guarantee consumers’ genuine engagement with brands, which are matched accurately.

Campaigns use advanced means to measure the effectiveness and progress of each agency. When it comes to social media, they give detailed reports ranging from engagement rates to the ROI. Collectively, all these observations are particularly useful when developing the subsequent strategies.

Arguably, the most crucial advantage of choosing an influencer marketing agency is they will guarantee a high ROI. Agencies are necessary for particular target audiences and provide brands with high-quality performance reports.

Final Thoughts

In today’s high-speed society, using influencer marketing on social networks is not only a trend but a successful method with definite results. This is where an influencer marketing agency steps in, to help brands achieve optimal performance of this marketing channel while gaining better engagement, cost efficiency, and guaranteed revenue. Might be your business is relatively new, or it may have been operating for many years; the correct agency is one that can revolutionise how your company presents itself to the public. It is high time to jump into influencer marketing strategies!

[worriedvision]

Here is part 2 of the prompt 24 angst ask with Ayato, gender neutral reader. The vision hunt decree in this is ongoing. 

--

You went to pick up your daily commissions the day after your heart got ruthlessly broken by how dismissive Ayato was of your feelings of missing him during his time of work. 

You didn’t expect to get commissions from Yoimiyas firework shop. Usually, you’d be given the task to clear out hilichurl camps, but this time you were sent to ‘talk to Yoimiya’. You ask if there was any other details, or if there was a mixup of commissions delegated, but all you got was a simple ‘no’. Nodding, you thank Kathryne before heading off, deciding to get the only commission you needed done before completing any emergency commissions that may not have been picked up. 

Yoimiya picks her head up after her dad waves at you, Yoimiya practically jumping as she pulls you in for a hug. 

The conversation starts off normal, nothing strange. You expected her to ask for some advice regarding fireworks, perhaps if something was too big or if it wasn’t big enough, but you don’t expect her to ask you how you feel after the breakup.

“Hold on.” You hush out, looking around you to make sure nobody heard the question. “How did you..?”

“Thoma told me.” She whispers to you. “So, I have a really great guy in mind for you! Someone who will love you unconditionally, someone who’s really good with kids, someone who-”

“That’s great and all,” You hear Heizou begin, crossing his arms in dissaproval. “But solving a problem of a broken heart with another man? Not gonna work, let me tell you that much.” He finishes his sentence. 

“Well, okay grumpy pants!” Yoimiya huffs out, placing her hands on her hips as she rolls her eyes. “Any other ideas? You aren’t exactly-”

“Bold of you to assume I’m not interested in getting my friend to move on from a terrible lover.” Heizou begins, walking towards you. “We all know Ayato’s heart is cold as stone - deep down, even you know he isn’t able to love in the way one would want, _.” Heizou turns to you. “Well, I have a better solution. One that doesn’t involve factors such as the possibility that this will be a ‘love at first sight’ development.” Heizou looks over at Yoimiya, expecting her to tell him to go away.

“Well?” Yoimiya asks. “What’s your special idea? I bet it’s not as good as mine!”

“Oh, less of that. You and I both know my idea is much better than yours. Replacing a man with a man is a stupid idea.” Heizou begins. “In fact, I think _ needs to broaden their horizons.” He continues, looking towards Ritou. 

“Tell me, _.” Heizou turns to you. “Would you like to move to Mondstadt?” 

--

The next day, Heizou is there to see you off. Even escorting you to the boat that was manned by Beidou’s crew, he found himself missing you. Before you left, he hugged you before insisting you write to him, stating a penpal of his was also from Mondstadt. You had to stop yourself from crying, Heizou wiping a fake tear away from your face as he tells you off for being so emotional.

“Make sure you tell Katheryne I said hello, alright?” Heizou winks, making it blatantly obvious this was some weird codeword that he set in place. 

--

Finally arriving in Mondstadt, you're met by a friendly face.

"Good morning! _, I assume?" You hear a blonde man ask, you nodding in response. "Albedo, chief alchemist of the knights of Favonius. It is a pleasure to meet a new face." He states, escorting you to the adventurers guild. "I'll be busy, however you can find me at the alchemy table here in the city." He states, waving you goodbye before walking away.

You turn to Katheryne, and you begin to introduce yourself. When she doesn't respond, you remember what your friend said.

"Heizou says hello, by the way!" You smile, laughing nervously. Katheryne nods in understanding, finally figuring out who you were.

"Ah! You must be the person sent from Inazuma. We've been needing more adventurers to fill more challenging commissions." She explains, opening a book. "Now, as part of your induction, we need to figure out your limits."

"Well, I'm capable of holding my own during a fight." You begin. "However if a commission was to require a vision wielder, I would not be able to complete this."

Katheryne nods in understanding, before she asks one more question.

"And would you be happy to fill in for teammates that fall unwell?" She asks. You nod eagerly in response, and Katheryne hums in thought.

"Well, I'll give you these commissions to begin. Ad Astra Abyssosque, adventurer."

Thankfully, your commissions go off without a hitch. As you clear the last hilichurl camp required, you hear a yelp in the distance. Before you can truly think of it, you rush over, only to fall into a hole.

"Ouch!" You hear a voice yelp under your weight.

"Ah, sorry!" You begin, getting up as quickly as you could before looking downwards, giving the boy a hand up.

"It's just my luck." He sadly states, before clearing his throat. "Here, I'll boost you up. Don't worry about silly me!" He laughs off, rubbing the back of his head before kneeling down to give you a lift up.

He doesn't expect you to turn around after getting out of the hole, reaching down for him. Reluctantly, he grasps your hand, hauling himself up before he thanks you.

The both of you make your way back to Katheryne, seemingly both done with your work for the day, and Katheryne seems relieved.

"Oh, there you are!" She begins. "You're already met Bennett, I see." She happily exclaims. You both look at each other, sharing a look of mild amusement before Katheryne begins to ask you to help Bennett in tasks that require at least two people.

"Katheryne, wai-"

"Of course!" You happily agree. "I'd be glad to assist."

"But-"

"Then it's settled." Katheryne nods. She pulls out a map, showing you a spot near the electro hypostasis that required some sort of investigation. Problem was, it was a particularly difficult commission. Nobody else was happy to take it, and all the knights could do was guard the entrance to prevent anyone from stumbling into the domain.

"Well, I have nothing better to do." You begin, turning to Bennett with a big smile. "Are you up for it?"

Bennett looks at you like you were out of your mind, but he agrees nonetheless.

"Alright, but be careful. I'm really unlucky, you know?" Bennett warns.

The both of you head over to the Good hunter to prepare the food required to survive in the case of an emergency, and Albedo walks over.

"How has your first day of commissions been?" Albedo asks.

"Oh, it's going great!" You beam. "Bennett and I were just going to investigate some suspicious activity, aren't we?" You look over to Bennett, who almost jumps when hearing how excited you were to go for this commission.

"Oh, is that so?" He hums in thought. "Well, best of luck. Here, I believe you'll be needing some medical supplies." Albedo fishes out a small pouch before handing it to you.

--

Oh lord.

Bennett had only seen pyro abyss mages before, he didn't know of these electro abyss mages!

"That's weird." You begin, walking through to the other side of the room to get a better look at the mage. "These are usually found in Inazuma. What brings them to Mondstadt?"

“Wait- you’re from Inazuma?” Bennett gasps. “That’s so cool! Whats Inazuma like?” He gawks, you laughing lightly before beginning to talk about Inazuman commissions.

Unfortunately, before Bennett can ask you about the vision hunt decree, you hear two abyss mages teleport to you. Clearly, the both of them heard you two. 

Bennett pushes you out of the way, seemingly spotting a disaster that was about to happen due to a light rumbling coming from the roof above. You look over to see what happened, only to see Bennett fall down a deep hole, the two abyss mages falling with him. Luckily, it seemed that their shields broke down the second before the hole was present. 

You look down the hole, only to see Bennett barely conscious, the remnants of the abyss mages that he used to break his fall. Moving on instinct, you look for a water source to aim for. Eventually finding it, you leap down the hole, Bennett shaking his head before passing out. 

The fall didn’t kill you, and you remember the small medicine kit Albedo gave you. Making your way to Bennett, you realise he’s fully unconscious. Thankfully, still breathing. 

You hear a knight calling down for you, and you look up to see a rope being thrown down for you. hauling Bennett over your shoulder, you grasp the rope, pulling up the best you can before the Knight manages to pull you out of the hole. 

Before they can ask if you’re okay, you run out with Bennett in your grasp. 

--

Barbara gets a real fright when Albedo opens the doors, you being behind him with Bennett in your arms. You manage a few steps before  adrenaline wears off, your legs becoming jelly like. 

All you needed was a proper rest, and you waited for your teammate to come around to be sure he was alive.

“Typical Bennett.” Albedo states. 

“Huh?” You look over, still not understanding what was meant. “Does this happen a lot?” 

Albedo nods, and he begins to explain that Bennett has a reputation for being the unluckiest person in Mondstadt.

“Bennett’s conscious.” Barbara states, bowing lightly. “Are you sure you’re alright?” 

You nod, following Barbara to find Bennett.

“Hey!” You begin. “Glad to see you pulled through.” You smile, walking alongside Bennett to inform Katheryne of the incident involving the presence of an electro abyss mage spotted in Mondstadts domain. 

“Aw, were you worried about me?” Bennett asks, laughing at the end of his question. “Of course you would be.” He utters under his breath, looking away as you both approach Katheryne. 

“Ad astra abyssosque!” She sings. “I see you managed to investigate the suspicious activity.”

You nod eagerly, talking about the details as Bennett nods along. 

“I see...” She replies. “_, are you sure you’re up to the task of filling in for-”

“Of course I am.” You respond quickly. “As long as it keeps me busy.” 

Katheryne nods, seemingly understanding you were needing a proper distraction from whatever happened in Inazuma. 

“Let’s get something to eat, Bennett!” You cheer, Bennett nodding before he walks with you once again. After retrieving your meals, you sit with Bennett, who seems lost in thought.

“My luck doesn’t really make adventuring the most fun...” Bennett starts, sighing sadly as he begins to poke his food. “I won’t take it personally if you leave my team, promise!” He laughs half-heartedly at the end.

“Nonsense!” You respond. “That comes with the job. Plus, it makes the reward that much more valuable.” You smile warmly, feeling something materialising in your hand. Looking down, you see a vision. Furrowing your brows, you only realise you’ve stopped talking when Bennett looks over, vocalising the fact you got a vision. 

“It seems I do.” You smile, taking a bite of your food.

--

“What do you mean, ‘_ is no longer in Inazuma’? They have work here, I know they wouldn’t just leave without talking to me.” Thoma pouts. 

“I’m sorry, Thoma.” Katheryne states. “They requested to be moved, and the area they requested was in more need.” She begins to explain. 

Thoma opens his mouth to ask about where you went to, only to see Heizou approaching Katheryne with a sly smile on his face.

“Hows _ been?” He asks, looking at Katheryne. 

“They-”

“Hush, Thoma.” He responds curtly before turning his attention back to Katheryne. “So, how have they been in Mondstadt?”

Thoma doesn’t seem to take in anything Katheryne has been saying, only hearing Heizou smiling and thanking her for allowing the transfer so quickly. 

“When can they return?” Thoma asks hopefully, Katheryne giving a  look of sympathy in response.

“Were you not listening?” Heizou chuckles. “They can’t return safely. Katheryne just said they obtained a vision, keep up.” Heizou pats Thoma on the back as he walks away, leaving Thoma to bask in his shock.

[saeyoungs-sunflower]

UK DV Helplines and Support

After the outcome of the football game this evening, and the fact that I didn’t see a post with these on the Euros tag whilst scrolling through, I’m gonna leave these here.

In the UK, cases of domestic violence go up 26% when England play, and 38% if they lose.

If you are in danger and unable to talk on the phone, call 999 and listen to the questions from the operator and, if you can, respond by coughing or tapping on the handset.

Call 999 from a mobile

If prompted, press 55 to Make Yourself Heard and this will transfer your call to the police. Pressing 55 only works on mobiles and does not allow police to track your location.

Call 999 from a landline

If the operator can only hear background noise and cannot decide whether an emergency service is needed, you will be connected to a police call handler.

If you replace the handset, the landline may remain connected for 45 seconds in case you pick up again.

When 999 calls are made from landlines, information about your location should be automatically available to the call handlers to help provide a response.

If you are deaf or can’t use a phone

You can register with the emergencySMS. Text REGISTER to 999. You will get a text which tells you what to do next. Do this when it is safe so you can text when you are in danger.

***

England (Refuge’s National Domestic Abuse Helpline)

0808 2000 247

Online live chat

Web form

Northern Ireland (Domestic and Sexual Abuse Helpline)

0808 802 1414

help@dsahelpline.org

Scotland (Domestic Abuse and Forced Marriage Helpline)

0800 027 1234

Online live chat

helpline@sdafmh.org.uk

Wales (Live Fear Free)

0808 80 10 800

Online live chat

Text

info@livefearfreehelpline.wales

UK-wide (The Men’s Advice Line run by Respect is a confidential helpline specifically for male victims)

0808 801 0327

info@mensadviceline.org.uk

***

Bright Sky app

Bright Sky is a mobile app and website for anyone experiencing domestic abuse, or who is worried about someone else.

The app can be downloaded for free from the app stores. Only download the app if it is safe for you to do so and if you are sure that your phone isn’t being monitored.

Women’s Aid local support services directory

Women’s Aid have a directory of domestic abuse support services across the UK.

If you are experiencing domestic abuse or are worried about friends or family, you can access the Women’s Aid live chat service 7 days a week, 10am to 6pm.

helpline@womensaid.org.uk

Victim Support

Victim Support run these services for victims and survivors of any abuse or crime, regardless of when it occurred or if the crime was reported to the police:

free, independent and confidential 24/7 Supportline 08 08 16 89 111

live chat service

My Support Space - free online resource

Ask for ANI codeword

If you are experiencing domestic abuse and need immediate help, ask for ‘ANI’ in a participating pharmacy. ‘ANI’ stands for Action Needed Immediately. If a pharmacy has the ‘Ask for ANI’ logo on display, it means they’re ready to help. They will offer you a private space, provide a phone and ask if you need support from the police or other domestic abuse support services.

Safe Spaces

Safe Spaces are also available in Boots, Morrisons, Superdrug and Well pharmacies, TSB banks and independent pharmacies across the UK. Once you are inside, specialist domestic abuse support information will be available for you to access. Many Safe Spaces are also prepared to respond to the ‘Ask for ANI’ codeword, to provide victims with a discreet way to access help calling the police on 999 or specialist support services.

Find your nearest Safe Space.

***

I don’t particularly care about the football but my heart sank when I saw England lost, for this very reason.

There is probably gonna be absolute chaos in England tonight. I’ve seen the videos and it’s not even surprising at this point, but still fucking disgusting and terrifying. Please, to any of my UK followers or anyone visiting England for the match, stay safe💛

all this because of a game where boys kick a ball around some grass Jesus wept grow up England

[northpen]

the long jade night (preview)

an: despite having another multi-chapter in the works, i’ve been secretly working on a mini-sequel to Meet Again. the final result will be a one-shot, but i’ve finally finished the first part, so i’ve decided to post it as a preview here!

(slight warning: this preview is more than 3k words long).

*

JADE | QUIET

The story broke a year after their return as ninja.

Cole tugged on the sails of Destiny's Bounty, turning them northwest. The wind was strong; it wouldn't take long to reach their destination. What awaited them, he wasn't entirely sure. He only knew that its prospect filled him with dread.

The laws of chronology dictated that Cole was 3129 years-old. In appearance, he looked no older than twenty-one. He had lived through thirty-one lifetimes. Some were happy, some were sad, but most were lonely. Until now, he had long since accepted the latter as a permanent symptom of agelessness. It wasn't very often that he got to live his days surrounded by friends.

It crushed his heart to know this was the last time it would ever happen.

"I knew her once, didn't I?" said a robotic voice from behind.

He tied down the ropes and turned around. Adorned by his white ninja robes, Zane stood stiffly on the wooden deck. There was a familiar sadness in his eyes, the kind that came around whenever he encountered something he could no longer remember. It pained Cole to witness. They had promised to continue their lives as ninja to create new memories, not mourn the ones they had lost.

It would get easier over time, he assumed. In Jamanakai, they would no longer be surrounded by reminders of the lives they had once shared together. They would both heal in the village's snowy landscape. And then they would prosper.

"We barely knew her," Cole replied. His memories of her before her death were faint, a vague recollection in lieu of anything concrete. "Lloyd and Nya knew her better. We were trapped in another dimension when she ruled with Garmadon. By the time we came back, she was gone. It's a little worrying."

Zane tilted his head to the side. "Worrying?"

Memories of sifting through the ruins of a fallen building crawled across his consciousness like spiders, pinning the visuals just behind his eyes. Chunks of grey brick. Dirt. Shattered glass. He lifted the treasures beneath them with shaky hands.

A strand of pin-straight white hair, now soaked in blood and coated with dust.

"I knew the others well when we approached them. They were different, but the same in all the ways that mattered. Their souls hadn't changed at all," he said. He clenched his fist to keep his hand from shaking. "I feel like I'm going into this blind. The Jade Princess was never one of my closest friends."

Zane hummed. "Then why help her?"

His decision to return to Ninjago City was impossible to rationalize. Despite initial false appearances, Harumi had always been an enemy to them. She had lied to them, taunted them, tried to kill them—and yet, she drew such deep feelings of sympathy from him. There was no way for him to answer the why without going into abstract emotions that made no sense to anyone but himself.

"I can't explain it," he finally responded. "I just feel this is something I have to do."

Zane came forward and placed a comforting cold hand on Cole's shoulder. "If you believe so, we will stand behind you."

Cole nodded and swallowed thickly. Right now, it wasn't Zane or the other ninja that worried him. It was Borg Industries and what they would do when they realized he'd betrayed them.

The previous evening, the police had sent a memo to the Bounty's communications system. A sixteen year-old girl, adopted only a few years ago into a wealthy family, had slit her adopted parents' throats and hidden away somewhere in Ninjago City. Afraid she would hurt other people, the police had requested the aid of the ninja in her retrieval. Of course, they had accepted immediately. But they had their own ulterior motives.

The story was too familiar for Cole to ignore. Even without her name, he knew this was the work of the Quiet One. Harumi was well and alive and Lloyd's desperate gamble had more widespread effects than initially thought.

Last night, he'd dreamt of the building's wreckage. When he'd awoken that morning, he'd remembered the testimony from a family who claimed that Emperor Garmadon's right-hand had played a personal role in their survival. After lunch, he'd made his final decision about what he would do when he reached Ninjago City.

He would find Princess Harumi. And then, he would let her go before any of the police's nindroids could take her away to the Kryptarium.

The police didn't know she was a reincarnation. Cole planned to use their secret connection to his advantage.

It was a risky move. A treacherous one. But he believed in her potential for redemption, and to him, that was enough reason to put himself back into danger again.

He just hoped that she wasn't beyond saving.

The city came into view during sunset. Its dark skyscrapers disrupted the soft pinks and oranges of the horizon; metaphorical spikes that cut into the delicate skin of nature and made it bleed heat and waste. Buildings stretched on for miles upon miles, an endless jungle of concrete and metal that had consumed much of the west coast in its expansion. They spoke to him in nonverbal tongues and made their demands ever so clear: We may trip, we may stumble, but we will never fall. What makes you so certain you can undermine us and win?

He could not answer their question. Doubt bloomed in his belly as the Bounty flew closer to Ninjago City. To help Harumi, the ninja would need to defy the police, Borg Industries, and the government of Ninjago itself—this was a gamble that threatened them with major institutional backlash. If they failed, they would spend the rest of their lives on the run. Nindroid agents would stalk them to the smallest of rural villages. Drones would shoot down the sails of the Bounty in the dead of night. Any reprieve they had found in their year of liberty would be lost to the threat of imprisonment.

They would become enemies of the state. Dangerous to the public. Wanted.

Hunted.

Autopilot kicked in and the Bounty lurched forward. They had begun their descent into the city.

Cole held his breath in a bid to slow his racing heart. Somewhere in the city, hidden away in an abandoned home or a dark alleyway, awaited the last reincarnation for him to encounter. Like Nya, had Harumi figured out she was a reincarnation on her own? Had she stolen her memories back just as Morro did? When they came face-to-face, would she recognize him as someone from their shared past, or only as a stranger from the present future?

The Bounty's thrusters roared as it lowered over the football field that acted as their temporary landing pad. When he looked over the edge of the deck, he could see many trucks and police cars in the parking lot next to the field. It seemed like the Commissioner was in a hurry to move things along.

The deck below his feet shook as the Bounty stuck its landing. Below deck, it was Zane alone who controlled the Bounty's motions. Nya would be in her room, getting ready to come upstairs. Out of all the ninja, she was the only one Borg and the police really trusted. Zane's memory loss and control by Nadakhan had spooked them, the other ninja were nobodies in their eyes, and Cole was a little too rebellious to be seen as someone they could depend on. Nya was their stable link that was about to be treacherously severed.

The hatch opened beside him. Nya's head poked out, and Cole offered his hand to help her climb the rest of the way out. She wore her gi and knee armour, but her hood rested at her shoulders. When she got to her feet, she took one look at Cole and rolled her eyes.

"If you want them to trust you—" she reached forward and yanked down Cole's hood "—you can't make it seem like you're trying to hide from them. I know you're a good liar. Put your acting skills to use."

The autumn air stung his cheeks. "You remember the code?"

She gave him a knowing smile. "If something is wrong, I say 'piano'. If something is disastrously wrong, I say 'Ronin'."

He put a finger to his ear and pushed down. "You guys hear that?"

"Yes, dad. We all heard," retorted Kai's voice over the channel. "Connecting to line five. Have fun."

Line five, the emergency line. The ninja were aware that for such a high level investigation, their usual communications channels wouldn't be safe. The police would want to work in conjunction with the ninja, so it was wise to assume that their voice channels would be secretly listened into by police forces. Line five was unique because unlike their other lines, it couldn't be listened into. Or at least, not until the police realized what they were doing.

Buried inside of Zane's original hardware was a transceiver for basic communications. It was this transceiver, as Nya and Jay had explained to him, that allowed Zane to hear sounds as well as emit them. "When you talk to him, the transceiver converts your words into radio signals he can receive," Jay had told him. "He digests them in a human manner, forms his response, and then transmits it back in audio waves perceivable by you. It seems complicated, but it's not really. Just think of him as a living walkie-talkie." It was this transceiver they were manipulating for line five. Instead of relaying their communications through the Bounty, they now had a much more personal short-range radio tower: Zane.

Line five routed its communications through Zane's personal transceiver. As long as they were within a few kilometres of each other, line five would transmit their words on a secure channel that could only be used by those with access to Zane's body. Thanks to Nya's purge of Zane from the system after the Nadakhan takeover, that number had been reduced down to a comfortable six.

To reduce suspicion, they would only use it in dire emergencies. The codeword piano, spoken over the main channel, meant one of the ninja needed help. Ronin meant that the police were growing suspicious and the ninja needed saving. A call for help over line five meant that evacuation was likely in order. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. They were being so careful—if all went according to plan, Harumi would be on the Bounty by the end of the night while they flew her to the moderate safety of the countryside.

At the edge of the deck, Cole wrapped an arm around Nya's torso and used airjitzu to float them safely to the ground. They crossed the grass and passed through a gate, where the parking lot awaited them on the other side. The Commissioner and several detectives were gathered beside a police van next to the parking lot entrance.

The Commissioner stretched out his arms in welcome. "Oh, how great it is to see you again, Miss Nya. Let me tell you, the current head of security is nowhere close to as good as you were."

She shook his hand politely. "You need to keep hiring reincarnated ninja. We're pretty special, you know."

The Commissioner laughed and offered his hand to Cole. "Is it safe to assume neither of the original ninja would be interested in the position?"

"Way too stressful for me," Cole replied with a smile. He hoped it didn't look too forced. "We're both pretty dead set on retirement, but who knows? Maybe we'll get bored after a few centuries and Zane will want to help out in the city again."

The Commissioner's thick moustache twitched as he smiled. "Then I look forward to your boredom."

"We're not doing the debriefing here, are we?" Nya cut in. "We should get moving. Or did we all forget there's a dangerous murderer on the loose?"

A nindroid opened the police van's side door. The Commissioner gestured to its interior.

"Of course. Climb in."

Throughout all of his years as a ninja, Cole had only visited the police headquarters a handful of times. His memory painted it as a crowded place, each floor in the tall building packed wall-to-wall with nindroid officers and human detectives. He recalled shouting and phones ringing, a place that was always loud and always busy. Tonight, it was eerily empty.

"Please excuse our appearance," the Commissioner said as he led them through the vacant halls. "Just about every capable employee we have is searching for the suspect. It's a very high priority mission for us."

All for one person, Cole thought. It occurred to him that they might not have received the full story in the transmission to the Bounty. What had Harumi done to warrant such a reaction?

Nya shared a glance with Cole. A year of masks had taught them to read each other's eyes well. In the darkest parts of her brown eyes, hidden by their feigned impartiality, was an expression of sincere worry. He was certain they were both thinking the same thing: with every cop in the city on the case, this was going to be a lot harder than originally anticipated.

The debriefing was held in a small conference room on the fourth floor. A sleek wooden table stretched across the room, its top covered in scattered paperwork and discarded takeout coffee cups. At the end of the table, three human silhouettes watched a 24-hour news station being projected onto the wall.

"Before we continue into the next story, a reminder to stay indoors if possible for the night," the anchor said to the camera. A photo of Harumi was displayed in a box next to her head. "The suspect is still at large and considered to be dangerous by the police. While the Commissioner has not yet signalled an intent to move the city into lockdown—"

"You look very busy," the Commissioner commented loudly. "Can any of you explain to me why public funds are being spent so you can watch TV?"

One of the detectives waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Yeah, yeah. We were just waiting for you to get here."

The lazy, deep drawl of his voice froze Cole in place. In the flickering light of the projector, he caught glimpses of the detective's personal features. Puffy, gelled-up hair. Trimmed eyebrows. A cleft chin. A smile that seemed to stretch a little too wide.

Really, Cole should have expected his return by this point.

Dareth turned to face them completely. "How are the ninja doing, anyways? Still okay after ditching us for a year?"

"We're doing fine, thank you," Nya said. Her hand touched his arm. She would take the lead from here. "Are you the detectives we're working with?"

"More or less," Dareth responded. "I'm the only mystery-solver here. The other two are just intelligence."

The female detective to Dareth's left slapped his arm. "I haven't spent ten years undercover for you to write me off as intelligence," she complained. She leaned forward on the table and winked. Her clumpy mascara brought attention to the sharp look in her eye. "The name's Violet. Nice to meet you."

The last intelligence took this as his queue to face the ninja as well. This was a face Cole was more excited to see.

He adjusted his glasses. His wheelchair squeaked as a result of the movement. "Cyrus," he said simply.

Nya flashed Cole a look, asking for confirmation. He nodded. Yep, it was the same one.

"This will be your team for the rest of the mission," the Commissioner said. He gestured to the chairs at the table. "Why don't you take a seat? I think it's about time we got on with the debriefing."

"Of course," Nya said. Cole moved to follow her to the chairs, but the Commissioner stopped him with a firm hand to his chest. "Not you. I need you to stay up."

Cole swallowed nervously. "Why?"

In lieu of answering his question, the Commissioner moved to the front of the room. The projector flashed erratically over his body. He lifted an arm to Cole, gesturing for him to come closer.

Nya gave Cole a small nod. It was safe to go forward.

The projector hurt his eyes. He looked into the dark corners of the room as the Commissioner clapped a large hand onto his back.

"As I'm sure you all know, the black ninja here is blessed with memories stretching all the way back to the unleashing of the Great Devourer," the Commissioner began. The hand on his back was more forceful than comforting, an idle threat that scared him more than Morro ever did. "Tonight, your debriefing won't be done by me. I think it's only fair that we let the expert take the lead."

Cole snapped his head to face the Commissioner. "I don't follow."

A laugh. It was a little mocking, a little sarcastic.

It was one Cole couldn't trust.

"Why don't you tell us what you know about the Jade Princess?" His hand trailed up his back, fingers dancing along the nape of his neck. "Judging by the presence of our friend Nya here, I'm sure this isn't your first time dealing with a reincarnation."

Just like that, the plan burned. The police knew Harumi was a reincarnation. The ninja's only advantage was gone.

If Cole had planned on stowing her away and then playing stupid, this was now completely impossible. They would expect him to know everything. If he couldn't locate her hideout, they would at the very least expect him to locate her corpse. Even after all these years, he could remember her original death bed in perfect clarity.

The Commissioner knew that Harumi's hours were numbered. With a case this serious, there was no way Cole would be allowed to operate without supervision. He had two choices: turn in Harumi to the police, or once again find her broken among the rubble.

His status as the only ninja with memories was being weaponized against him. There was no easy way for him to liberate Harumi and remain on the good graces of the law at the same time.

Well, it was a good thing he didn't work alone. It wasn't like the Commissioner could keep track of six fully-trained ninja at once.

"Harumi wasn't a friend," Cole said. He willed his voice to be forceful, channelling the ninja leader inside of him. "She was a monster. A dangerous, evil monster. My only regret is that I never got to take a swing at her myself."

A finger tapped Cole's neck. "You must remember more than that."

Cole found comfort in Nya's quietly terrified eyes. Her hand was balled into a fist below the table, and she seemed ready to spring from the chair at a moment's notice. She must have reached all the same conclusions as him.

The faint hum of the earpiece in his ear inspired his next words.

"Well, she was always a little closed off on the Bounty. But I do remember her being really, really good at the piano."

--

thanks for reading! i’m going to try to have this finished soon <3

[theearlywarning]

Lethal Flaws - The EBS False Alarm of 1971

‘We interrupt this program. This is a national emergency. Important instructions will follow in 30 seconds...’

—

Today is February 20th 2020. The current time is 9:33 a.m. Eastern Standard Time. Many people across the US at this time are likely enjoying breakfast, driving to work, dropping their kids off at school, or perhaps relishing in a day off.

49 years ago on this day, at 9:33 a.m. EST, the Emergency Broadcast System was activated in error nationwide, sending over 5,000 radio and 800 TV stations on alert for a national-level emergency and bringing America to a standstill for nearly an hour. A system so vital to the safety and security of US inhabitants suddenly had several glaring flaws that left citizens vulnerable and civil defense officials scrambling. It was this false activation that paved the way for the development of our modern Emergency Alert System, which sought to solve for the imperfections of the old system and give Americans a speedier, more accurate and more usable means of early warning in case of emergency.

"I can't imagine how the hell I did it."

—W.S. Eberhardt, teletype operator

The incident occurred on a Saturday morning at the National Emergency Warning Center at the North American Air Defense Command (NORAD), stationed in Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado. The NEWC was a division responsible for two crucial EBS functions: running regular weekly tests of the EBS through to radio and TV stations, and sending out actual warnings for national emergencies.

That morning, civilian teletype operator Wayland S. Eberhardt was responsible for conducting that week’s required test by feeding a tape through the teletype, which connected directly to the Associated Press and United Press news wires, sending it to stations across the US. There were three tapes near the teletype: the test message, EAN message #1 White Card, and EAN message #2 Red Card. With each of the three tapes comes a set of monthly codewords used by stations to authenticate the message. For Eberhardt, a veteran operator of 15 years, feeding the weekly test through the wire was as mundane and routine as doing one’s laundry.

But everybody makes simple mistakes. And this morning, Eberhardt didn’t feed the test message through as he intended. He sent the EAN White Card and its authenticator words through the machine by mistake.

“I thought I was going to have a heart attack trying to open that damned envelope. I haven’t felt that way since John Kennedy was killed.”

—David Skinner, WEVA radio

The message came through the wire to teletypes nationwide. An interconnected typewriter-like device using bells, paper tape reels and telegraph capabilities, the teletype’s daily series of news stories and reports was interrupted by a whopping ten bells —a signal of an extremely urgent message— which were immediately followed by a text announcement that read the following:

MESSAGE AUTHENTICATOR: HATEFULNESS/HATEFULNESS

THIS IS AN EMERGENCY ACTION NOTIFICATION (EAN) DIRECTED BY THE PRESIDENT. NORMAL BROADCASTING WILL CEASE IMMEDIATELY. ALL STATIONS WILL BROADCAST EAN MESSAGE ONE PRECEDED BY THE ATTENTION SIGNAL, PER FCC RULES. ONLY STATIONS HOLDING NDEA MAY STAY ON AIR IN ACCORD WITH THEIR STATE EBS PLAN.

BROADCAST EAN MESSAGE ONE.

MESSAGE AUTHENTICATOR: HATEFULNESS/HATEFULNESS

20 FEB

Widespread confusion followed over the air as Americans listened. An estimated 20% of broadcasting outlets that day followed proper national emergency activation procedures and prepared listeners to hear an urgent message from then sitting President Nixon. Others followed procedures but ceased the interruption before the all-clear message was received. Still others ignored the activation entirely, as they had noted that the alert was transmitted at the exact time a scheduled test was supposed to come through. This chaos only spread to the ones on the other end of radios and screens. Listeners around the country called stations in a panic, trying to figure out what national emergency was going on.

Senior operators at NORAD quickly identified the error and attempted to correct it. They sent several cancellation messages through the wire, but without proper cancellation authenticator codes needed to officially end the EAN. Finally, at 10:13am EST, 40 minutes after the erroneous activation, Cheyenne Mountain sent out a cancellation message with the proper authenticator word, IMPISH, to all broadcasting stations, officially ending the alert.

A teletype machine wired to the United Press International newsfeed. These machines were the live news sources of radio and TV stations across the country.

While Nixon himself declined to comment on the incident, the Pentagon quickly laid blame on the Office of Civil Defense, which oversaw the National Emergency Warning Center. The Office of CD itself concluded that the false alarm was nothing more than a mishap. Corrective measures were taken, but Eberhardt himself was not fired for the mistake that left him “seriously shook up”. After the incident, the two tapes for EAN scripts were sealed in envelopes and placed in cabinets away from the transmitter, leaving only the test tape by the unit. This was done to ensure that a simple act of muscle memory wouldn’t allow for another false alert.

But this still left several painfully apparent flaws in the EBS out in the open, leaving officials with a lot of improvements to make. Years later, the EBS was officially decommissioned in 1997 to make way for the Emergency Alert System, which remains in use today as part of the Integrated Public Alert and Warning System, or IPAWS. 

The false alarm of 1971 remains obscure in the history books as only a blip on the Cold War overview. This event, however, was pivotal in modernizing public warning systems across the United States, and The Early Warning recognizes its importance as such.

Below this post is a video containing two recordings of the false alarm as it happened, one heard on WOWO AM, the other on WCCO AM. I invite you to give these recordings a listen. It’s hard to imagine the nerves of the announcers as they read the White Card and the fear of the ones who were listening, but it is sobering to know that all of this happened only 49 years ago. 

February 20, 1971: America panics as emergency warning is broadcast in error

The Nuclear Attack That Wasn't: February 20, 1971

Code Word “Hatefulness”: The Great EBS Scare of 1971

[ciarawritesmarvel]

wanderlust [3] - steve rogers

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k (i’m going all out for this series)

Warnings: Definitely a little language, warning for heights I suppose and angst towards the end to be honest. I’m so sorry about this after EG but two very fluffy one shots the two days after today. 

A/N: Part three! All I gotta say is sorry. This isn’t very nice. Well, it is to start with! I’m going to stop talking. Please tell me what you think of this one and I really hope you enjoy it, lovelies <3

Summary: Your best friend and colleague Steve Rogers only really wants to make you happy, even if that means taking you around the world to do so. Will you satisfy your wanderlust or somehow wander into love?

Prompt: I love you. And I’m sorry if that scares you but it won’t change. I love you. I have for a while now. [written for Attie’s 4K Challenge Challenge! @barnesrogersvstheworld]

masterlist is in my bio and tags will be in a reblog! Enjoy!

previous chapter

---

Gibraltar had been and gone. It was far too quick, the three days spent there flying by before you could fully grasp onto them, but they were still incredible . The first day had been wandering around and then an incredible dinner at the restaurant Tony recommended but you’d found some different things to do the past two days. You spent one atop Gibraltar Rock complete with a cable car ride, monkeys and Steve getting his sunglasses stolen. The final day was spent on the beach, lying on towels side by side, splashing into the sea and then running out again, the sand sticking awkwardly to your feet and legs. Steve stole you both some sunbeds after that and you spent the rest of the day sipping on soft drinks through straws, sunbathing either in silence or in quiet chatter, splashing each other in the sea and playing frisbee on the sand.

It felt like true peace.

You’d had to get a shuttle to Malaga in order to fly to your next destination. When there, it felt as if Tony had missed a trick in not including Malaga in the trip, as it was gorgeous, but the beach was far busier and you understood why he hadn’t. It wasn’t necessarily all that peaceful here.

From Malaga, came the flight to Ajaccio, Corsica, where you’d be spending two nights. You were already a little tired from the travelling, but didn’t let it bother you and this time you took the flight as a chance to sleep, your head lolling onto Steve’s shoulder within minutes of take off. 5 hours later and the man in the seat beside the two of you had to wake you up, as Steve’s head rested on top of yours as he slept too. He claimed it was because he couldn’t bear to stay awake and listen to your snoring. Cheeky bastard.

Tony had arranged a special trip for your day in Corsica, which turned out to only be a single day, since you arrived at 9pm and wanted to go straight to your hotel to sleep at that point. You’d be in Ajaccio tomorrow but leaving the next day. It was a quick turnaround.

You woke up at 9am in your hotel room and padded into the bathroom to get ready, lightly shaking Steve’s shoulder on your way past his bed in a bid to get him up. A cotton sundress and a pair of sensible flat sandals being the choice of the day, you emerged from the bathroom to find Steve sleepily wandering around the room, picking up his clothes. You exchanged smiles before he disappeared into the bathroom to get ready himself.

It was quite the walk to the tour bus, as Tony had booked you onto a coach trip that was supposed to be for people on an incredibly posh cruise, but when you asked how he’d did it he muttered something about contacts and you decided not to question him. The tour in question was one of the famous Prunelli Gorges, which Tony claimed had beautiful views and perfect photo opportunities. You had shrugged and agreed, ignoring the slight look of reproach on Pepper’s face as he booked it and the sharp words they’d exchanged afterwards. Couldn’t have been anything too worrying.

“Have you looked up what the Prunelli Gorges actually are?” Steve asked you as you walked through the streets, staring at the route on your phone as if your life depended on it. Every so often he would have to grab your elbow and manoeuvre you out of the way of oncoming passers-by, or even walls.

“No, I wanted it to be a surprise. You?”

“Same here. Do you think it’ll be like a smaller grand canyon?”

“I dunno. Maybe?” you admitted, because really, you hadn’t thought about it, but now that you were, you really didn’t know what you were in for today. It was only slightly concerning.

Steve’s phone pinged and he fished in the pocket of his shorts for it, pulling it out and seeing a text from Tony.

Tony: Make sure you hold her hand, big guy!

Following the text was a laughing emoji, an embarrassed emoji and then a few emojis that Steve wished he didn’t know the meaning of.

“Anyone important?” you asked, still looking down at the route and turning left at the end of a street. Steve was puzzled, but sure as hell wasn’t going to share the text with you and so he pocketed his phone and shrugged.

“Domino’s Pizza, two for one deal.”

“Ah damn! If only we were at home,” you joked, looking up at him with a teasing glint in your eye and he laughed, shaking his head. You definitely didn’t mean that and he damn well knew it.

Finally reaching the line of tour buses at the docks, you put your phone away in your bag and marvelled at the scenery. Looming in the not so far distance was an enormous cruise ship and there was a thick line of people streaming from it and into the tour bus area, being assigned to their various excursions. You and Steve were under strict instructions from Tony to mention his name and the codeword, wanderlust, to the security guard outside the area and he’d be sure to let you in.

I mean, if he didn’t, you were kind of stuck.

“Hello, sir,” Steve ventured, walking forwards towards the guard and you thanked your lucky stars that he was willing to do this, since you were terrified of being sent away and Tony not having worked his magic, “We’re here under the name Tony Stark?”

The man eyed him warily and you hurriedly took the last few steps so that you were shoulder to shoulder with Steve.

“Wanderlust!” you squeaked, and Steve looked at you in mild surprise, his lips pressed together to stop him from laughing at your timid tone. You scowled at him. But the guard nodded, far too seriously, and stood out of the way to let you in, pointing to a tour bus on the end of the row, number 66.

“66? You gotta be kiddin’ me,” Steve murmured to you and you chuckled and shushed him as you passed the guard with a half smile. As you walked to your tour bus, you glanced backwards and noticed that the man had a rifle slung over his back and your eyes widened of their own accord, and you shuffled closer to Steve subconsciously.

“Ah, you two must be the Stark party!” the woman beside the tour bus exclaimed cheerily in a heavy french accent that was almost dreamy. You both nodded cordially and she ticked off your names on her clipboard with a flourish, ushering you onto the bus, “Oh you are going to have a wonderful time, you’ll see, you’ll see!”

You both boarded the bus, and Steve looked back you with a raised eyebrow at the woman, but you just shook your head ever so slightly, as if to tell him not to question it. You found two seats free near the front and sat yourselves down, Steve by the window and you in the aisle, sending a few smiles in the direction of the various people around you.

“That woman scares me,” Steve whispered to you.

“You and me both,” you agreed, “But don’t worry, I won’t let the big bad woman hurt you.”

“You gonna protect me, doll?” he asked, smirking at you and you played along, placing a hand on his cheek and ignoring the effect that nickname had on you.

“Sugar, I wouldn’t let anyone hurt a hair on your pretty little head,” you assured him in your best southern accent, which just happened to be terrible. He placed his hand on top of your own.

“You make me feel so safe, Y/N.”

“Just doin’ my job,” you said, but suddenly your voice was deeper and more like a bodyguard’s, and Steve snorted, his hand slipping from yours and his forehead falling to your shoulder as you both laughed.

“Good morning cruisers!” a high pitched voice came through a microphone and ricocheted around the bus, “My name is Martina and I will be your guide for this incredible tour of the beautiful Prunelli Gorges! Let’s go, driver!”

Looking around, the seats were full and there were quite a few faces either amused or worried by the enthusiasm of the guide, Steve’s face definitely on the worried side. You tried to reassure him.

“It’s probably good to have an enthusiastic guide, Steve, at least she’ll get us all excited during the trip!”

He hummed, plainly unimpressed, in response as the coach roared to life and the driver expertly reversed out of the parking bay and onto the roads. Before long you were on what must have been a motorway here, even though it felt rather tiny. You pointed through the window towards the mountains that towered in the distance, ones that you seemed to be heading for.

“We better not be going there.”

“I don’t think we will be,” Steve laughed and you joined him. They were far too high up, after all, though you had heard of some mountain roads in Ajaccio. The thought made you shiver. No way.

“...and you’ll notice that tree on your left...oh, it’s gone. Well if you take the leaves from that and add the juice of the sap from that same trees you get a wonderful balm for skin irritation, bites and stings...”

Both you and Steve had long since blocked out the incessant voice of your guide, since apparently you’d been wrong and her enthusiasm did not enthuse the bus, instead alienating the majority of it. You tuned in just for that section about the tree though, and quickly tuned out again, even more confused by her than ever. Another half an hour later and you left the motorway, turning onto a winding road that seemed surprisingly steep.

Above you was the mountain that had been so far away. Now close. Very close.

“Steve?”

“Hm?”

“Are we going up this mountain?” you asked timidly, looking out of the window and noticing just how slanted the ground below the bus was. The roads were winding, the greenery slowly thinning out around you with every turn you took. When a car came towards you, both parties had to slow down and get the passing just right. You were beginning to feel sick.

Steve hadn’t answered you either, which didn’t make you feel any better.

Another turn later and the greenery had thinned out so much that you were able to see through it, only for a fleeting second, but you saw an expanse of trees that were considerably below you. And you were still climbing higher.

“Holy crap,” you murmured to yourself, looking ahead at the seat in front of you, feeling your heart rate pick up.

Then it hit you.

Prunelli Gorges. Gorges. You were going around the top of the gorges. Which would be below you. Far below you.

Suddenly, Pepper’s sharp words to Tony when he booked it made sense.

It was only minutes before you rounded another corner and then there were no more winding roads through the trees, feeling safe on either side. The trees fell away and there was rock on one side of the bus and a sheer cliff-face on the other. You glanced down and felt your head spin. 2500ft was your best guess for the height of the drop. Right next to you.

You heard Steve curse, and the bus slowed considerably as it took the corner and you were on the mountain road. There were murmurs throughout the bus as everyone saw what they were facing next and you saw one woman cross herself nearby, making you feel a million times worse. It felt like your stomach had already dropped the 2500ft. You cast your gaze down to the floor urgently.

“Now, don’t worry about this bit of the journey, everyone, this is the fun bit! And Luca has driven this stretch of road more times than he can count, right Luca?”

“Actually this is my first time,” he deadpanned and you snapped your head up to look at him. Martina was laughing at him as if he’d just said something funny. As far as you were concerned he was the least funny person you’d ever met in your life.

There was a turn coming up, one in which you couldn’t see where you were going anymore and it just looked like you were going to disappear into the mountain.

“You okay?” Steve asked you, peering at your face and you noticed he was an unearthly shade of white. It was likely he was looking at you to avoid looking over the side of the cliff above anything else.

“No,” you hissed, “How could Tony do this to us?”

And suddenly, Tony’s earlier text made sense. Asshole.

Steve didn’t answer and you came to the turn. You tensed every muscle in your body as you felt the vehicle shift and heard a screech from the back of the bus a few seconds later. Both you and Steve whipped round to check everything was okay and saw a woman breathing heavily with a hand on her chest.

“Our side was hanging over the edge!” she exclaimed to the man next to her, seemingly her son, who rubbed her back comfortingly. You let out a shaky breath.

“You can’t be nervous, Y/N,” Steve said and you could hear the tremble in his voice along with the attempt to lighten the mood, “You said you’d protect me, remember?”

“Only if you’ll protect me too, cowboy,” you said breathlessly and you could feel your heart pounding through your chest, closing your eyes with a wince when you felt the bus turning again. These winding mountain roads were so much worse than the previous winding roads. You wished you’d never complained about those.

“Always,” Steve said, somewhat sincerely.

The bus lurched as a wheel clipped the tiny kerb on the cliffside. Both of you jumped out of your skin and instantly you were gripping each other’s hands for dear life. You looked down at your joined hands once you were sure that the bus wasn’t falling to its doom, slightly embarrassed, but Steve squeezed your hand and gave you a tiny smile and you didn’t feel quite so embarrassed then.

Your hands stayed linked.

---

You stepped off the bus on shaky legs and Steve quickly offered you his arm to hold on to until you regained your balance, though your hand gripping his arm like a vice was grounding him somewhat also. That had been the worst hour of your life. A stark contrast to the joys of Gibraltar. You were extremely surprised neither of you had thrown up. Yet.

“I swear,” you said, swallowing thickly, “If we’re going back that way, I’m not getting back on that bus. I’ll get a taxi, I swear to everything I hold dear.”

“We won’t be going back that way, I’m sure of it,” Steve assured you, but he sounded hoarse and had to cough to regain his composure.

“You can be damn well sure of it, I won’t do it Steve!”

You’d held hands for basically the whole hour. They became incredibly clammy but neither of you really cared. Occasionally you grasp onto his forearm for some extra support and once or twice Steve made the mistake of looking to his left and seeing the drop right there and had to bury his face in your shoulder. Your other hand would come up and hold onto the back of his head at those moments and he’d take a second or two to calm before he was able to sit up again. Both of you used each other as comfort and comforted each other as best as you could. Ensuring the other was okay was the only thing that really prevented either of you from crying.

It sounded dramatic but it was terrifying. Every corner felt like a deathtrap and there was a collective gasp everytime a car came towards the bus.

Now you’d stopped at the highest of heights, where one of Martina’s friends had a caravan out of which she sold Corsican meats and cheeses. It was a strange place to stop but no one was going to argue with an idea that got them off the damn bus.

“Hey guys! Enjoying the tour?” Martina was suddenly in your line of vision and you jumped, still entirely on edge. Steve was quick to be there for you, a warm hand placed on the small of your back soothing you within seconds. You relaxed under his touch. Steve answered her for you but you didn’t hear what he was saying. Instead you focused on the way the skin of your back prickled into goosebumps despite there being cotton between your back and his hand and the way your heart had picked up again for a different reason altogether.

“Well, I have some lavender oil here, very good for calming the mind. I can put some on your wrists?”

You had the vague thought that she might be poisoning you but pushed it away and offered your wrists quickly, hoping that the oil might actually have the calming effect that she claimed. Steve did the same and the loss of his hand on your back almost made you think it wasn’t worth the oil. Almost.

Once Martina had left you alone to pester others to take some of her oil, you gestured to a table to Steve and he nodded, the two of you walking over and sitting down with loud sighs escaping you both. You took a moment to actually look around. You hadn’t been able to appreciate the scenery until now.

One view had you standing up from your chair before you’d even properly sat down in it. You walked over towards the edge of the lay-by, which, just for this rest stop had a higher wall. And down below you was the most beautiful landscape you’d ever seen in person. There were gorgeous green mountains, all sloping down into the clearest blue lake you could imagine, which curved around the land that surrounded it. It was like something out of a movie.

Steve had joined you, slightly panicked when you’d begun walking towards the edge with no explanation but understood completely by the time he was stood side by side with you. He looked out across the gorge and felt tears pricking the back of his eyes. He blinked them back.

He reached for your hand and this time, rather than just holding it, he slipped his fingers through yours and intertwined them. You looked up at him, almost as if in awe, but he kept his eyes trained on the view. You looked forwards again, heart rate slowing as you calmed, his touch seemingly having some sort of magical effect on you. After a few seconds, spurred on by his act of bravery and of intimacy, you shuffled closer until you were touching and pulled his arm around your shoulders, keeping your fingers locked together as you rested your head on his chest.

It was practically midday and the sun overhead glittered on the water. But nothing glittered as much as the happiness in both of your eyes.

---

It was yet another hour to the next rest stop, but this one was the journey down the mountain, slowly, which somehow was easier than the journey up. There were still a few hand holding moments but this time there was also some soft chatter between you as you eased and moments towards the end of the hour where you were actually able to look where you were going which seemed to be a little tiny village in the side of the mountain. You were nearly back at a normal level by now, but the village still appeared high up compared to everything else.

When you stopped this time, your legs weren’t shaky, which was an improvement and there was an actual shop that sold ice cream, which was a bonus. The meats and cheeses from before hadn’t really done it for you. You waited in the queue and got two whippy ice creams, wandering outside into the courtyard seating to eat them.

“I’m going to kill Tony,” you said through a mouthful of ice cream and Steve nodded, swallowing his own.

“I’ll help,” he agreed, “As long as we make it as painful as possible.”

You gasped excitedly.

“We can bring him up here and push him off one of the cliffs!”

Steve pointed his ice cream at you knowingly.

“Bingo!” he exclaimed, swiping your nose and leaving a little dot of ice cream there, before returning it to his mouth as if nothing had happened. You giggled, reaching over to swipe his own face but protesting when he moved his face out of the way.

“Hold...still…” you said, sticking your tongue out to concentrate as you leaned right over the table and tried to get his face, even though he was leaning away as far as he could and frantically turning his face from side to side every time you got close. Eventually, you took hold of his face with one hand and booped his nose with the whippy, grinning triumphantly at the mark left which dripped down onto his chin.

If anyone had looked over, it would definitely have seemed you were about to kiss him.

There was one fated moment where Steve thought you were going to as well.

And another fated moment where you thought you were going to.

So...

You did.

It was a fleeting kiss, but you were already cupping his face and you just leaned in and pressed your lips to his, quickly, sweetly, closing your eyes and savouring the sparks. When you pulled away and looked at him, flitting from his eyes to his lips and back again, you licked your lips.

He stood up and you were forced to pull away properly, falling back into your seat at the other side of the table with a thump. You watched him as he snatched the ice cream from your hand and walked away from you and your heart dropped.

His back was hunched as he walked away and you brought your hand up to your mouth as you processed exactly what you’d just done. You’d just ruined your friendship with Steve. You’d just ruined your friendship with Steve. You’d just ruined your friendship with Steve.

But then you watched through glassy eyes as he threw the ice creams in the bin and turned back to you, his gaze hard and unfaltering, his eyes utterly locked on you. You froze. Didn’t know whether to run or hide or beg him to forget what you’d just done, to rewind the clock, to go back in time.

He stalked over to you with a purpose you were almost sure you’d never seen from him and you stood up, opening your mouth to tell him how sorry you were when his arm was suddenly locked around your waist, tugging you against his chest, his other arm on the side of your neck as he tilted your face up to his and met you in a searing kiss.

Your back arched and he encouraged it, arm tightening around you as his lips moved against yours. You were still in shock, and all you could do was cling to his upper arms desperately as you kissed him back. He tasted like ice cream and home. That wasn’t a taste. It was likely you were delirious at this point.

He pulled away and you fisted your hand in his shirt collar as some sort of reflex to keep him close, to ensure he couldn’t get away.

“Wow,” he breathed after a few seconds of heavy breathing and you chuckled, nudging your nose against his playfully.

“Wow.”

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Steve whispered. His words hit you full force. A cold bucket of water poured over you, when you were previously warm and basking in a glow you’d never known. Your hands let go of him and you were a respectable distance away from him within an instant.

“You didn’t mean to do that?” you asked quietly, willing your legs to stop trembling right this second.

“No! No, that wasn’t what I was trying to say, I mean-”

“Because I think it was just the setting.”

You said the words without thinking. They just came out, even though you didn’t mean them at all. But your heart was shouting that danger was nearby and you were terrified of what he’d just said and the fear on his face. He didn’t want this. How could you ever kid yourself that he would want this?

Your words hit him like a van at full speed and knocked him clear off his feet. You didn’t want this. How could he ever kid himself that you would want this?

“The setting?” his voice was shaking because you were saying everything he’d dreaded you would say after a moment like this. You heard the shake and believed it to be fear of what might happen next, fear of you taking this the wrong way. Your own insecurities were both of your worst enemies. Always had been.

“Yeah. The setting. It’s so pretty. Easy to get caught up in the moment, make silly mistakes,” you said quickly, and now you couldn’t even look at him which naturally he took to be regret, “Right?”

You waited with bated breath. Wanted him to scream that you weren’t right, that you were wrong. That he wanted you. That he loved you. So that you could tell him you loved him and pull him right back to where you were just mere seconds ago, kissing with the passion of two star-crossed lovers.

“Right.”

But he didn’t.

Martina called everyone back onto the bus for the last leg of the tour, the last hour that took you all the way back to the bus bay where you’d started the day. Tension was thick in the bus. Somehow, even the terrifying cliffs were better than the icy silence that blanketed you and Steve, suffocated you slowly the entire way back. You sat rigid in your seats and when Steve’s knee knocked against yours at one point both of you pulled away as if you’d been scorched by the touch.

You walked back to your hotel in near silence, the only talking when you said “it’s a right here” or “straight on again”.

You went into the bathroom to change into your pyjamas. When you came out and Steve took your place, there were no smiles exchanged, instead eyes averted to the ground, shoulders careful not to brush each other.

Lying in bed that night, the twin beds had never seemed so far away. You both lay rigid on your backs, as if any movement might disturb the other and send them away. You were scared to breathe.

“Goodnight,” Steve whispered to you in the dark and the simple word was all it took. You turned on your side away from him and covered your mouth to hide the sobs, face crumpled up in pure sorrow.

“Night, Steve,” you managed to choke out as his tears made steady, silent tracks down his cheeks.

And so you lay, two almost-lovers in separate beds, mourning something you’d never even had to begin with.

Utterly heartbroken.

[queenburd]

cw the astroworld concert

can somebody PLEASE explain to me why we are blaming the performer for the surge, when it was the responsibility of security and the safety team to a) have the number of staff needed and b) have the attention and set up for emergencies and accidents?

because the guy on stage is only going to see and do so much. unless he is told by crew (via codeword) that he needs to announce emergency protocol and control the crowd, he’s going to continue performing.

the codeword was not at any point announced my dudes. how, exactly, is it the performer’s fault the owners of the venue didn’t do their jobs with safety

[redpaperowl]

D&D Tonight

K: Someone put “wet” next to the penis. DM: You put what next to a penis?!

DM: You get to enjoy my little drawings. Z: Is that the sun? DM: Yep. Z: Did someone trap the sun in the sewer?!

K (out of character) : OW I JUST HIT A WALL.

H: I’m just gonna see if there’s a doorhandle. (Someone’s clearly been paying attention.)

DM: You see a rat creature, more human than the one before. Z: IT’S RATMAN TWO POINT OH. DM: It’s wearing a crown. Z: KING RATMAN! DM: Made from other rats with their tails tied together.

H: Oh he speaks? DM: Yeah, he speaks. Z (Shrieking): OH MY GOD.

King Ratman: Says a lot about your friends, doesn’t it? H: More than you know.

DM: Do you want to roll me a diplomacy? H: Not particularly.

King Ratman: I am a collector. K: DO YOU NEED HANDCUFFS? H: My friends are in the business of acquiring things. Not stealing them, just picking up random crap. Mostly Zazzles.

Kinisk killing it with the rat people for trades. First porn for our original Ratman, then King Ratman says he’s interested in magic. “I HAVE A BOOK CALLED MAGIC FOR DUMMIES.”

H: Thanks, King Ratman, wonderful doing business with you. Z: I LOVE YOU KING RATMAN BYEEEEEEE. K: WE’LL MISS YOU. Z: YOU DA BEST RATMAN YOU DA BEST. K: YOU DA BOMB. H: Was that a codeword? I don’t want to throw a bomb at him.

H: Now we can get onto the stuff we were meant to do last session.

DM: Oh, the map is out of proportion. K: LEAP FROG OVER THE MOUNTAINS. Z: STOMP ON THE MOUNTAINS.

DM: There’s a river. K: SWIM IN THE RIVER.

H: I want to see if there’s someone with a boat willing to take a few passengers. Z: OR DIE.

DM: There’s a pub? There’s some sailors. Z about to ask if there are any fit sailors... DM: There’s a brothel.

Z: Are there any fit sailors? DM: Roll a D20 to see how lucky you are.  *Gets a 3* DM: No, they’ve been at sea too long, they have some diseases, they’ve been to too many brothels. K: Bar staff? *Rolls a 6* DM: Not much better, there’s a fat inn keeper with one tooth. H: I set up a sexual health clinic. *Rolls 28* DM: You solve all their problems and they buy you some drinks.

Z: What’s the brothel like? DM: Mostly ladies, some men, not very classy, you’ve seen better in the city. *Pause* Z: I mean, they’re no King Ratman are they? DM: No, no they’re not. Z: They don’t have his prowess.

H: I’m covering expenses this trip. Z: We’re his bodyguards and he looks after us.

*H explains some new stuff for weapons which should make attacks stronger* Z: What about no handed weapons like bones in your mouth?

Z: Can I ask the locals about ratpeople rumours? K: You are really strung up on rat people. H: I think Zazzles’ end goal is to become a were-rat. Z: Hahahaah, yeah. DM: That’s actually a thing in this game, Zazzles. Z (Squeaking): OH MY GOD. DM: I’ve never known anyone to be so excited.

We get to grosstown. Beauty and the Beast “Little Town” song gets played.

H: Wait, did we really break Avery out of hospital and leave him in the city? Z: Well yeah, the stupid orphange wouldn’t let us put a reserve order on him. H: I’m concerned about the moral implication of treating him as luxury goods. Z & K at the same time: HE *IS* LUXURY GOODS.

Kinisk bitchslapped a crab.

DM: Emergency sushi.

Z: How do you pronounce that second name? DM: Which one? Z: “Rainal”. Like rain in the anal cavity?

K: Why isn’t that one pronounced “tubetit”? Z snorts with laughter. H: Because you get that response. DM: It just doesn’t sound healthy. H: I bet I can diagnose that.

K: You *can* eat crabmeat raw.

H: I’m going to give the idiot twins... no... the idiot detective sergeants... Z: I am already on board with this.

DM: So, the butler K: BUTTler, he does things in the butt DM: So the butler

Butler: He was very paranoid, was obsessed with the occult, became obsessed with shapeshifters. Z: I’M FEELING RATPEOPLE

Z: I dance seductively next to Kinisk’s crabcakes to entice the maids. *Cue magic spiderman gif*

DM: Some of the maids have already moved on. Z: THEY’RE DEAD?

K (out of character): I REGRET GOOGLING TUBE TITS.

Interrogating the maids: Z: Was your boss on drugs?

Z: Did your boss hang out with ratpeople? Maid: No? Z: Did your boss hang out with any people who weren’t people like animal people like a ratman but not a rat? Maid: ... No?

Maid: Tulki. Z: Toucan? Maid: Tulki. Z: Tolkien. Maid: TULKI. Z: Tolki? Maid: TULKI! Z: Oh, Tulki. Maid: She took him... Z: OH ITS A SHE. Maid: Yes, I mean she’s a dwarf so I can understand your confusion... Z: Did you hear that Kinisk? Toucan is a dwarf. So he went with the dwarf lady priest person? Did Tolki take any drugs?

Z: Any follow up questions Kinisk? K: Yeah, question for the DM, was King Ratman naked? Z: No, she said he had a CROWN.

DM: I’ll see if I can do something Christmassy for you next week. Z: CHRISTMAS RATPEOPLE.

[divergentchangelings]

Whiteboard Corner

Part 6: Bonus Activities

We realized a while back that it was becoming mutually overwhelming to try to each keep track of every task that needed to be done & when & who's doing what & all of the other details along the way. We agreed to try a whiteboard which worked SO well that it actually created new problems. It was obvious we needed more whiteboards to keep track of everything but how many did we actually need?

Well, one whiteboard became 2, became 4, became 6 whiteboards of different sizes & qualities. But they worked! We were able to section out important routines & reminders then stick them together somewhere we could see them all: the Whiteboard Corner!

We didn't want to admit to ourselves & each other how much extra help we'd been needing but not having to rely on faulty memories or miscommunications anymore was a huge relief. We're still figuring all of this out but we wanted to share what's been working for us just in case it helps anyone else Going Through It. 

• "OK, but is this really important?"

Yeah, actually. All of these boards together in the corner can kinda just... blur into the background & become unusable. The brain starts to go, "eh, I don't have that in me, what's the point?" So to keep all of the other boards effectively interacted with, we needed a visual hook to pull us back over. Something fun, something constantly changing, something low-stakes but high-reward.

• Bonus Activities

Concept: easy fun entertainment but also engaging with the whiteboards so they don't just blend into the background

Examples:

•change the expression!

•add the expression!

•doodle scenes:

  •garden

  •beach

  •alien encounter

•random doodles/free draw

•tic tac toe

•write the next part (poem/story)

•poetry magnets

•resin magnets

This is part 6 of a 6-part series:

• Part 1: To Do/Today/Done

• Part 2: Calender + Notes

• Part 3: MultiSensory Wakeup/Winddown

• Part 4: Emergency Response Codeword

• Part 5: Keeping Track

• Part 6: Bonus Activities 

If you enjoy what we do, consider buying us a kofi!

[as-bct]

Reflective Journalism - Kolb Cycle.

Experience

My group project ‘Cards for play’, has been the most meaningful experience for me so far in Creative Technology. I was along with other 8 people in this project and our brief was to “create a card experience which encourages or facilitate play”. Our group was determined by matching pillars that we were interested in the project; Fantasy, Fellowship and Challenge, this is so that there is ease complying with decisions made.

Our 3 main pillars were our starting point. The group agreed on producing an experience that would bring a group of people together in fellowship by a going through challenge consisting a characterized play. During the play, our team hopes to result in an experience where individuals would share ideas of their interests and by breaking the ice. By the end of the play, our team hopes to result in an impact of having a ‘fellow feeling’ between the group.

A play experience which I’ve come up with and which we nurtured is about a card game where 1 person in the group is chosen as ‘The Decktator’ while the rest, ‘Rebels’, must work together as a group to overthrow ‘the decktator’. The main principles of the game are for the ‘decktator’ to formulate a ‘secret codeword(SCW)’ from the ‘letter cards’ and also placing the first letter of the secret code word and a ‘topic card’ in front of the ‘rebels’. The ‘rebels can try to overthrow the ‘decktator by guessing the (SCW) straight away or by having to guess of a word related to the ‘topic card’ which at least 1 or 2  of the rebels must also have thought of and get a jinx. The decktator’s aim is to get as many possible points by gaining more topic cards - (when rebels fail to get a jinx, the decktator places a new topic card) and the rebels aim is to crack the code by getting a jinx about the decktators topic card which then the decktator will give the next letter card of his ‘secret code word’. Whoever guesses the (SCW) or gets the last jinx of the topic card will become the next ‘decktator’. The winner of the game focuses on the people who became the decktator with most topic cards, however, our focus is more on bringing excitement, fellowship, challenge, fellow bonding and building friendship in the experience. The final product of this is produced on photoshop and printed professionally.

This project is very significant to me as it gave me a deeper insight into what and how to produce a final concept by having to really focus more on the iterative or Kolb cycle of it. Another aspect made this project significant was how, despite the hardships, my group really sponged up as much knowledge we could intake and apply it to produce an amazing piece of product. Our teamwork was very impressive, it gave each of us an encouragement to go over our limits and to actually work with purpose.

Observation and analysis

Our first ever concept was a blind booth challenge; bringing two strangers together and putting them into a challenging questionnaire on the cards for them to get to know each other. However, during my reflective observations through this concept, it breached our intention to bring ‘groups’ of individuals together and not just 2 strangers. Additionally, from one of our first prototype, it brought a whole lot of awkwardness instead of a proper play experience. The team decided to eliminate this concept to focus on a new one.

The very first early concept of ‘The Decktator’ was a confusion because we haven’t yet fully finalized - it was just a start. I created the simple card game idea based on our aesthetics and decided to produce simple card prototypes using papers to complete the logistics of play and so we begin testing it out to groups of people.

Our development process first began right after our first prototype test. As a result of the active experimentation, the group was engaged in making reinterpretations gained from the feedbacks and self-observation during the experiment. There were quite a few feedbacks in our early stage of prototyping (based on the concrete experiences) such as, “rules needed to be more concrete and orderly”; we also noticed this in our observations due to the number of repetitions of explaining in certain mechanics of the game for the peers to understand and start.

Later in the prototyping, we received comments about finalizing the design for the cards, as the group did sort of focus on the mechanics of the game. The group was persuaded that the design of our cards is very significant as it impacts the vibe and whole experience of the game. We decided to conceptualize for a minimalistic aesthetic for the cards, however, after certain tests and reflection, the group assimilated that it didn’t boost the excitement of the peers. Therefore, we diverged from having the minimalistic aesthetic and changed it for a Russian themed aesthetic as we thought it would be fascinating for the players and for them to have a purpose in the game experience - which did happen during experiments. “Individuals’ goal pursuits are guided by their values (Nelson, 2004). This Russian themed aesthetic brought the title ‘The Decktator’ as well as the design concepts of the cards which a lot of the people who tested our game admired.

New ideas rush in our heads right after we reflect on each observation and the critiques we receive about our prototype from the tests. The new ideas were either meant to contribute for a positive outcome - (enhancing the experience) or a negative outcome - (making it more difficult). Either way, we would always assimilate from our reflective observations, converge from concepts about the prototype and adapt/accommodate from the active experimenting to produce a better concrete experience. This iteration cycle or also known as ‘Kolb’s cycle’ is what’s behind the visual difference of our product from day 1 until its final form.

From these reflective observations, we managed to identify a lot of inconsistencies, enhance the logistics and eliminate nitty-gritty parts of the play. We then form conclusions about the reflection of our prototype and modify abstract concepts that may move us to the next step forward.

Learn and reflect

“A vital question, a creative question, rivets our attention. All the creative power of our minds is focused on the question. Knowledge emerges in response to these compelling questions. They open us to new worlds.” (Verna Allee, 1997). Often after our reflections and assimilations, the group investigates if there are better ways to solve the issue that the peers raised. During these investigations, I learned to ask myself vital questions such as, “what other approaches can I supplement to the purpose of intent?” in order to come up with an absolute solution; I try to be creative by asking if there are other better ways to conceptualize it. These questions helped produced solutions which enabled our piece to develop characteristics which made some of the people be attached to it. Even our group couldn’t believe that we’ve created such a product not knowing that we didn’t have the capabilities to do it at the start. “You’ll notice that the queries tend to stimulate more reflective thinking and a deeper level of conversation. That’s what we mean by a powerful question—one that provokes thoughtful exploration and evokes creative thinking.” Vogt, E. E., Brown, J., & Isaacs, D. (2003).

According to 2 of Khun’s existing theory, “There are at least two connotations of a ‘paradigm’: first, as the sociological constellation of beliefs, values, norms, and criteria shared by a community of practitioners; second, as an exemplary solution that serves as example for everyone within the community.” Sosa, R., Gero, J., & Jennings, K. (2009). This made me realize that our cycle of iterative development is a type of ‘paradigm’ as we have developed our ‘Cards for Play’ project by growing ideas, raising significant questions, following an iterative process called Kolb’s cycle and producing an object we’re happy to critique.

If could take away any main thing from this project it would be the experience of not being afraid to present a better idea but rather including it in the iteration cycle to prototype, test, reflect, improve and repeat. This is a very valuable lesson for me and many others because we ought to come up with many ideas but are too afraid to apply and test it. All ideas impact the concept in a way. People will just be amazed by how a small idea concept can be turned into an outstanding invention.

References

Allee, V. (1997). The knowledge evolution : expanding organizational intelligence. Butterworth-Heinemann.

Vogt, E. E., Brown, J., & Isaacs, D. (2003). The art of powerful questions: Catalyzing, insight, innovation, and action. Mill Valley, Calif: Whole Systems Associates.

Sosa, R., Gero, J., & Jennings, K. (2009). Growing and destroying the worth of ideas. In      Proceedings of the 7th ACM Creativity and Cognition conference, pp. 295–304 Berkeley, California.

Nelson, K. A. (2004). Consumer decision making and image theory: Understanding value-laden decisions. Journal of Consumer Psychology, 14, 28–40.

[givethemtriumphnow]

the original, scrapped version of my first New Game+ fic

warning: it’s kinda crappy, disjointed, and mostly just a train-of thought writing process withot an outline started around 1 am. I reread it and went “nope” which is why it is currently being rewritten. it’s obviously not finished, and this particular version will not be, but I figure someone would enjoy reading a snapshot of the universe i’m working on so far, so here you go!

summary: Nyx had just escorted Princess Lunafreya back to her quarters after the party, when suddenly, his instincts warn him something is wrong. He charges back into the room, only to discover the Princess is dying, with no attacker in sight.

Time travel, champions of etro, and one-sided magical conversations await a very confused Nyx. also some random inserts from myself i am too lazy to take out, so read at your own risk

He had already inspected her quarters before she was allowed inside. The windows in the room were made of the same bullet-proof, high-tech safety glass ((issued??)) In the throne room of the King himself, and the Crown Prince's apartment building. He'd even been told by Drautos himself that the King had set up a smaller, lesser Wall-variation spell around the room, as an extra precaution to protect the Princess he cared so much for.

If assassins wanted to harm Princess Lunafreya, they would have to come in themselves, blades swinging, past Nyx himself. But he had already swept the room.

She should have been safe.

They had exchanged mutual wishes for peaceful sleep. He had waited unti she closed the door and heard it lock before he started to walk away. He heard the faint pad of her feet on the thick carpet as she too walked away from the door, presumably to ready herself for bed.

He had only gotten a scant few feet from the door when he heard it. Or, felt it.

A short, sharp inhalation of breath sounded from the Princess's side of the door, so faint he wasn't even sure he actually heard it.

It could have been any thing.

Dread and no, no, NO, DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE crashed into him like a tidal wave, and he had turned and was already charging the door before a second had passed, his heart thundering in his ears too loud for him to hear anything else.

He didn't ask permission to enter, he didn't knock on the door, he knocked the door down. Magic thrummed in his veins, shrouding him in blue sparks as he slammed his shoulder into the heavy, enforced door. Under normal circumstances, this would not have even made a dent in the room that housed Royalty.

But this was not normal circumstances, and something as simple as a door was not going to stop Nyx Ulric from saving a life.

The door burst inward, ripped from its hinges, and probably would have slammed into the opposite wall if Nyx didn't have the foresight to grab a hold of the handle, in case the Princess was in its flight path. The door spun wildly, and he flung it against the clear wall behind him when he saw Princess Lunafreya, alone, lying over on the floor, struggling to breathe.

Slapping the activator on his comm, Nyx gave the codeword for an emergency, eyes darting all over the room as he dashed to Princess Flueret’s side. Aside from the hurt Princess, there was no one else in the room, and nothing seemed out of place.

Flueret didn't seem to notice his presence until he was already touched down next to her, one gentle but firm hand on her shoulder as he tried to figure out what was wrong, the other hand jabbing at his comm again when no response came from the other guards.

“Your Highness, can you hear me? I need to know what’s wrong. Are you on medication? Do you have an inhaler? Any allergies?” Nyx questioned urgently, trying to to keep his voice calm to keep the gasping Princess from panicking further, but no one was responding to his comms, and there was a disturbing wetness to the Princess's hacking coughs. Internal bleeding? Blood in her lungs?

The Princess's lips were beginning to turn blue, and when her eyes fluttered to look at up him, they were clouded, not focusing on his face. One of her pale hands shakily reached up to rest on his cheek. Her hands were ice-cold, like death.

Her lips moved as she gazed at him, but the words were lost as she began to lose consciousness.

Nyx was just dithering between performing CPR, the heimlich, or just straight up hauling the Princess out of there and sprinting to find help, when all of a sudden, he became aware of another presence in the room, directly beside him.

There was no warning, no sound, nothing; one second it was just Nyx and Princess Flueret, then suddenly, from thin air, a little white creature was sitting next to him, ears flattened in dismay as it nuzzled Flueret's hand with a sad chirp. There was a flash of red light from the contact, and then Flueret was sucking in huge gasps of air like she’d just been saved from drowning, most of the pain gone from her body language as she slowly recovered.

Seeing as the creature had not made any hostile moves, and in fact seemed to be helping, Nyx decided to ignore its presence for now, assuming it was some kind of exotic, tenebraen pet.

Seeing as it had a positive effect on whatever episode the Princess had just suffered, Nyx realized it must be the tenebraen equivalent to an epilepsy dog, and cursed the Intel officers for neglecting to mention such an important detail when he was assigned to guard the Princess.

'Hello, Lady Lunafreya! I hope you feel better now! I'm really sorry about that, but it's the only way She could get you back here.”

The creature let out another chirp, and Flueret's head shot up, looking startled.

“Leviathan? Why would she…” Flueret’s rasping voice froze as she looked up, finally seeming to notice Nyx's presence. She stared at him, all the blood draining from her face.

Worried she was going to have another….asthma? panic? attack, Nyx held out a reassuring hand. “Hey, Princess, don't worry, it's just me. Nyx, remember? King Regis assigned me to be your bodyguard for the duration of the peace talks?” Nyx reminded gently, unsure if the Princess had blacked out at all during her attack. He knew it could be disorientating afterwards.

Being part of the special group of Summoners, Crowe and the other specially-trained Glaive often blacked out after the group effort of summoning an eidolon took too much out of them. It had been more than one battle where Nyx and Libertus had carried an unconscious or severely-weakened Crowe off the field before daemons could rip her or the others apart.

Flueret was staring at him much the same way Crowe had after a blackout, confused and uncomprehending of his words.

The creature nudged Fluret’s hand reassuringly, chirped, then placed one dainty paw on Nyx's knee. Nyx glanced down at the cute creature with a quirked eyebrow, and it might have just been his imagination, but the creature gazed back with oddly solemn eyes.

Nyx, smiling, offered a finger to the creature, the way he had to the feral cats back home, and with a barely-contained grin, booped the creature on the nose when it immediately reciprocated, before stroking a hand down it’s back. The creature gave a sound remarkably like a purr, despite its fox-like appearance.

Luna was staring, flabbergasted at the creature, and remembering himself, Nyx quickly schooled his expression and stopped petting the creature, realizing if it was an exotic medical-assistance pet thing, it was extremely rude and detrimental to the creature’s training to distract it with attention the way you would a normal companion pet.

“Sorry,” Nyx apologized, “I know i’m not supposed distract him while he’s working.” Fleuret was now staring at him, looking utterly flabbergasted.

“You can understand him?” Fleuret suddenly questioned, and Nyx raised an eyebrow.

Glancing down at the cute creature, then back again, he said, “No, why? Can you?” He wouldn’t be surprised; Tenebrae was far away, and who knew what magics they had. The Lucian belief that only those directly of Royal Blood could use magic was obviously a folly, considering Nyx himself. Granted, it was borrowed, but still.

Flueret shook her head. “Yes, I can but...This is too much, everything is happening so quickly.” She said, before turning her attention to the affectionate creature. “Little one, you said I was brought back? I do not understand, not even the gods have such power as….Time travel.”

Now it was Nyx's turn to give Flueret a flabbergasted look. What the hell?

The Princess continued before he could interject. “The last thing I remember is Ardyn, he stabbed me with a dagger then Leviathan, she pulled Noctis and I under the water, I was drowning, I -- wait! Noctis! Is he okay?” Flueret rounded on the creature, hunching forward until she looked to be begging for forgiveness, a desperate sadness in her eyes Nyx recognized from the mirror.

“Please, tell me he's okay, tell me he made it, tell me he's alive and well!” She begged, tears building in her eyes as her frame began to shake, and Nyx once again growing alarmed at the unexplained situation, tried to activate his comm again, but no one replied again.

Seeing the woman's tears, and that she seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown, both Nyx and the creature moved forward at the same time--

Chirp-chirrrr! the creature squeaked out.

“Hey, you're Highness, don't worry, I saw the Prince just the other day, he's got his bodyguards with him, he should be fine.”

[bountyofbeads]

Greg Miller does a great job of pulling back the curtain on the whistleblower complaint 👇👇👇🤔

Whistleblower painstakingly gathered material and almost single-handedly set impeachment in motion

By Greg Miller | Published September 26 8:32 PM ET | Washington Post | Posted September 27, 2019 4:35 PM ET

The whistleblower’s identity remains obscured, the details of his work for the CIA cloaked in secrecy. But the document he delivered reveals almost as much about the investigative mission he carried out in stealth as it does about the alleged abuses of power by the president.

From the moment he learned about President Trump’s attempts to extract political dirt on former vice president Joe Biden from the newly elected leader of Ukraine on July 25, the CIA officer behind the whistleblower report moved swiftly behind the scenes to assemble material from at least a half-dozen highly placed — and equally dismayed — U.S. officials.

He wove their accounts with other painstakingly gathered material on everything from the intervention of Trump’s personal lawyer Rudolph W. Giuliani in the U.S.-Ukraine relationship to alleged efforts by American diplomats sent to Kiev and attorneys in the Office of the White House Counsel to contain or suppress the accruing damage.

On Aug. 12, he delivered his document — a nine-page version of which was made public on Thursday — to the intelligence community’s inspector general, triggering an almost immediate clash between the executive branch and Congress.

[Read the unclassified whistleblower complaint]

Six weeks later, the whistleblower has by some measures managed to exceed what former special counsel Robert S. Mueller III accomplished in two years of investigating Trump: producing a file so concerning and factually sound that it has almost single-handedly set in motion the gears of impeachment.

“In the course of my official duties,” the whistleblower writes in the first sentence of his complaint, he learned that “the President of the United States is using the power of his office to solicit interference from a foreign country in the 2020 U.S. election.”

The file goes on to bolster that contention with specific language that matches the since-released White House summary of Trump’s call with the Ukrainian president and points to other potential witnesses and grave allegations.

Perhaps the most explosive is the document’s assertion that White House officials used a classified computer system to hide documents that might be politically damaging to the president.

Among them, the complaint says, was the rough transcript of the call with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, in which Trump urged his foreign counterpart to mount investigations that would potentially deliver damaging information about Biden and his family.

The detailed notes of that call released this week show that the whistleblower’s depictions — having neither heard the conversation nor seen the transcript — were eerily accurate. The contents of the call alone were widely regarded as politically damaging to the president.

[Dan Balz on Post Reports: “The fact that we are now in the third iteration of this in 50 years suggests that something has changed in the way people look at the tool of impeachment as a way to check the power of a president.”]

The whistleblower report raises troubling new allegations about the call, saying that White House officials quickly moved it from a widely shared internal computer network to one reserved for “codeword-level” records about CIA covert-action programs or other highly classified material.

If true, that could implicate those who directed the relocation of the files and serve as evidence of their motivation: concealing presidential conduct they understood to be problematic and potentially illegal.

A paragraph in the appendix asserts this was not an isolated incident.

“According to multiple White House officials I spoke with,” the document says, White House lawyers had on other occasions used the “codeword-level system solely for the purpose of protecting politically sensitive — rather than national security sensitive — information.”

Trump, speaking at the United Nations in New York on Thursday, disparaged the author of the report, saying that he was “almost a spy” and potentially guilty of “treason.”

Attacking his accusers is one of Trump’s standard tactics when thrown on the defensive. He repeatedly accused Mueller and other investigators on the Russia inquiry of being dishonest, beholden to Democrats and engaged in a politically motivated “witch hunt.”

Significant differences between the Russia investigation and the whistleblower complaint, however, may make it more difficult for Trump to rely on such tactics. Among them are the accuser’s anonymity, the existence of a transcript that many regard as formidable proof of the underlying allegation and the speed with which the complaint has already transformed the political landscape in Washington.

“He’ll be remembered as a truth-seeker,” said Douglas Brinkley, a presidential historian at Rice University. If and when his identity is revealed, “it’ll be one of those names in the history books and around forever, like Daniel Ellsberg,” who was responsible for the release of the Pentagon Papers.

Trump has all but called for the whistleblower and those who assisted him to be unmasked, despite federal laws designed to protect identities and prevent reprisals in such cases.

“I want to know who’s the person who gave the whistleblower . . . the information,” the president said Thursday.

Other officials have said they are intentionally not seeking information about his identity. Joseph Maguire, the acting director of national intelligence, testified Thursday that he does not know who wrote the document. A Justice Department file related to the case noted that the inspector general found “some indicia of an arguable political bias on the part of the complainant,” but Maguire said he did not question the whistleblower’s motivations.

“I think the whistleblower did the right thing,” he said. “I think he followed the law every step of the way.”

Although his name has not been disclosed, aspects of his background have emerged. He works for the CIA, an affiliation first reported by the New York Times on Thursday, according to current and former officials familiar with his identity and position in the intelligence community.

U.S. officials and an attorney for the whistleblower have asked news organizations to refrain from releasing details about him, citing concerns for his privacy and safety.

In the complaint, the whistleblower describes receiving troubling reports about the Trump administration’s approach with Ukraine from “more than half a dozen U.S. officials” over four months.

But the document suggests that it was only after learning about the nature of Trump’s call July 25 with Zelensky that the whistleblower went from sharing colleagues’ concerns to being convinced that he needed to document and report them.

An approximate transcript released by the White House shows Trump prodding Zelensky to direct his government’s investigative bodies to turn their attention to alleged corruption by an energy company for which Hunter Biden, the former vice president’s son, had served as a board member.

Trump has alleged that the elder Biden used his influence to shut down a corruption investigation targeting the company. The claim has been repeatedly discredited, and there is no credible public allegation that Hunter Biden was guilty of wrongdoing.

Trump also urged Zelensky to “meet or speak with” Giuliani and Attorney General William P. Barr to redouble Ukraine’s efforts to seek damaging material tied to Biden.

“Multiple White House officials with direct knowledge of the call informed me that, after an initial exchange of pleasantries, the president used the remainder of the call to advance his personal interests,” the whistleblower report says.

The document also cites other developments that allegedly troubled White House officials, including the abrupt removal of the U.S. ambassador to Ukraine in May after a campaign by right-wing media entities to discredit her.

Although the report does not describe explicit coordination between the whistleblower and White House officials, it depicts an arrangement in which he so routinely received communications of concern from White House officials that it raises the question of whether they knew he intended to file a whistleblower complaint.

The report refers to a “discussion ongoing” between those troubled by the call and White House lawyers, indicating administration attorneys were aware of internal concerns about Trump’s conduct before the whistleblower complaint surfaced.

The report lays out investigative leads for Congress or other authorities. It notes that there were “approximately a dozen White House officials who listened to the call” and identifies a State Department official — referred to with conspicuous formality as “Mr. T. Ulrich Brechbuhl” — as another participant.

Brechbuhl had joined the State Department only in May, as an adviser to Secretary of State Mike Pompeo.

Beyond his sourcing at the White House, the whistleblower has remarkable insight into the activities of U.S. diplomats and Ukrainian officials. The report notes that Kurt Volker, the U.S. special representative for Ukraine, and Gordon Sondland, the U.S. ambassador to the European Union, arrived in Kiev the day after Trump’s call and proceeded to advise officials there on how to “navigate” the demands of the American president.

The document also traces Giuliani’s extensive intervention in U.S.-Ukraine affairs, including a meeting in Madrid with one of Zelensky’s senior advisers. The Madrid trip was described as a “direct follow-up” to the Trump-Zelensky call, for a fuller discussion of the “cases” mentioned in the two leaders’ discussion.

At its core, the complaint makes the case that Trump was withholding items that Ukraine desperately wanted — including hundreds of millions of dollars in aid and an invitation to the White House — to use as leverage.

The Trump administration had been sending those signals since Zelensky’s inauguration on May 20. American officials who traveled to Kiev to attend the ceremony “made clear” to the Ukrainians that Trump would not meet the new leader until he saw how Zelensky “chose to act,” according to the document. Any meeting or phone call would hinge on the Ukrainian president’s willingness to “play ball” with his American counterpart, the whistleblower wrote.

Greg Jaffe, Ellen Nakashima, Karen DeYoung, Shane Harris and Julie Tate contributed to this report.

[tripstations]

Cruise: Carnival ship passenger saved in heroic rescue after wheelchair rolled off US dock | Cruise | Travel

A cruise passenger travelling on cruise ship Carnival Fascination had her life saved thanks to the actions of two quick-thinking men. The girl was visiting St. Thomas in the US Virgin Islands with Carnival Cruise Line on Monday when her wheelchair rolled off a dock and she fell into the water. Fortunately, locals Randolph Donovan and Kashief ‘Kuntry’ Hamilton, who were nearby, sprang into action. Heart-stopping footage shows Donovan in the water holding onto the girl while a life ring is placed around her.

Hamilton can be seen fastening a rope around the girl and Donovan as officials help pull them up.

The two men were working for an entertainment group at the West Indian Company dock when the accident happened, reported The Virgin Islands Consortium. Hamilton had even been DJ-ing before he spotted the girl in the water.

Further footage shows the girl lying on the deck as she is attended to by emergency personnel.

Donovan and Hamilton (also known as DJ Country) have been praised for their heroic actions in saving the cruise passenger’s life.

Donovan – who is seen being tearfully thanked for his efforts by the girl’s family – wrote on Facebook about the incident afterwards.

“I couldn’t think I just had to move real quick,” he posted. “I cannot stop thinking about the way she was looking I told myself I had to save her the water was deep.

“And when I see the wheelchair going under the weight and the fight that she put on me, I was in a tight situation. I keep screaming, saying ‘I cannot hold on no more’.

“Thanks to DJ Country he was right there in the water to help, now she have another day to talk about this day (sic).”

Hamilton also shared his response on social media. “Wake up this morning set and ready to go DJ on WICO Dock for the tourist coming in on the carnival ship, not knowing I will be saving a tourist life,” he posted on Facebook.

“Thank God we all are safe and sound. The love that is coming is tremendous and I want to say thank you to each and everyone.

“Situation like this all you can do is act and hope for the best. Randolph Donovan I’m glad that we did what we did and we are ok… VI Strong (sic).”

Kurt Vialet, the senator for the 31st and 32nd Legislature of the Virgin Islands, praised both men.

“Everyday heroes with unassuming personalities live among us!” he posted on Facebook.

“Earlier today I announced on the Senate floor the heroic mission of two individuals from St. Thomas who saved a young girl’s life who fell in the ocean by the WICO dock.

“Hats off and kudos to Mr. Kashief General Kuntry Hamilton and Mr. Junior Donovan! Job well done and thank you for your willingness to assist with this duty today! I know that young lady’s family is forever grateful and we as a people are proud of you! Again, thank you heroes!!!”

Commissioner Joseph Boschulte of the U.S. Virgin Islands Department of Tourism added: “Our team at the Department of Tourism truly value their heroic efforts, and thanks to them, a young visitor’s life was saved.

“We often say that ‘Tourism Is All of Us,’ and Kashief and Randolph truly embodied that message. The two young men are back at work today welcoming our guests after yesterday’s selfless and heroic act. We’re proud of you – well done!”

A Carnival spokesperson told Fox News that the girl was examined by medical staff following the accident but did not sustain any inquires.

They added that the guest was provided with a replacement wheelchair for the remainder of the cruise.

Express.co.uk has contacted Carnival for further comment on the incident.

A former cruise ship worker has revealed that crew have a codeword for when someone goes overboard on a cruise ship. Ex cruise employee Joshua Kinser 

 told Express.co.uk that “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar” signified someone had fallen overboard.

“This only occurred a few times on the ships I was aboard, but it seems to happen much more aboard cruise liners than most passengers probably think,” he said.

The post Cruise: Carnival ship passenger saved in heroic rescue after wheelchair rolled off US dock | Cruise | Travel appeared first on Tripstations.

from Tripstations https://ift.tt/2z6CF7Y via IFTTT

[thewebofslime]

The United States first successfully orbited national reconnaissance satellites in 1960, but for the next decade and a half continued to seek a reliable means of gaining intelligence in crisis situations. One such effort was the D-21 drone program, initiated by the CIA and later transferred to the National Reconnaissance Office. The D-21 program, although never operationally successful, left a critical legacy for other intelligence and national security programs. The D-21 drone incorporated a number of technologies that would mature in future defense and intelligence technology programs including: unmanned aerial vehicles, stealth design features, and ramjet engine technology. The D-21 program was also unique because it involved personnel from both the intelligence community and Department of Defense elements, setting an example of collaboration that is more common in today’s post-9-11 era. This collection of documents is significant for a number of reasons. First, the collection reveals additional insight into the technological development challenges faced by program managers and participants. Second, the documents describe how US defense and intelligence organizations cooperate to confront daunting challenges like collecting regular and reliable intelligence over denied areas, or in today’s parlance, against hard targets. Third, the documents identify the decision points necessary to determine when to continue a challenging technological program and when to discontinue the program in favor of a more promising option for solving a pressing intelligence problem or set of problems. Researchers who study these documents in detail will gain a greater understanding of the early promise of the D-21’s potential for providing critically needed intelligence. Researchers will also discover that despite the program’s cancellation, it informed and inspired other intelligence and defense technology program development. The D-21 program remains a unique chapter in the national reconnaissance program history, one that will remain of interest to students of the discipline. James Outzen, Ph.D. NRO Historian Chief, Historical Documentation & Research Center for the Study of National Reconnaissance Memorandum for General Berg, Subject: NRO-JCS Relationships on Aircraft Reconnaissance of Denied Area September 1967 Memorandum for Dr. Brown, Subject: SR-71 Aircraft Attrition November 1967 Subject: Q-12 Ramjet Drone February 1963 Letter to DNRO Re: Tagboard October 1963 Letter to Directors Program B and D Re: Tagboard August 1963 Letter to DNRO Re: Tagboard June 1963 Conditions for the Assignment of Tagboard to Program D June 1963 Memorandum for Mr. Packard Subject: Future of Drones and Aircraft in Overhead Reconnaissance April 1971 Memorandum for Deputy Secretary of Defense, Subject: Tagboard Mission over South China March 1971 COMPASS DWELL; Remotely Piloted Vehicle (RPV) January 1972 Response to Clearances for USAFE Commander and Selected Staff Officers July 1971 Memorandum for Captain Wilson, Subject: Tagboard September 1969 Memorandum for Secretary of Defense, Subject: Tagboard Operational Missions September 1969 Subject: Reorientation of the Tagboard Program November 1966 Tagboard Study: 18 October 1963 Memorandum for the Deputy Secretary of Defense, Subject: Successful Tagboard Test Flight, June 1968 Memorandum for Mr. Nitze, Subject: Status of Tagboard August 1967 Memorandum for the Director, Program D, Subject: Nov 70 Ex Com Decisions August 1971 Review of US Foreign Intelligence and Related Activities in Selected Areas of Southeast Asia February 1966 Tagboard Status August 1974 Model D-21B Manufacturer's Model Specification: July 1967 Model D-21B Manufacturer's Model Specification: November 1963 Project Tagboard July 1971 Project Tagboard: Security Responsibilities April 1969 Successful Tagboard Test Flight, May 1969 Memorandum for Deputy Director Science and Technology, Project Tagboard Security Responsibilities April 1969 Memorandum for Dr. McLucas, Subject: Project Tagboard Security March 1969 Letter for Richard Helms, Project Tagboard Security March 1969 Very High Performance Drone Reconnaissance February 1969 Codeword and/or Project Indicator for D-21 (Drone) January 1969 Proposed Emergency Plan for Project Tagboard Operations April 1968 Tagboard Briefing Document December 1968 Project Oxcart/Tagboard Security November 1968 Tagboard Program Concept January 1968 Tagboard Program Test Support March 1965 Oxcart/Tagboard Flight Test Program Contingency Plan March 1965 Tagboard Test Program/Contingency Plan January 1965 Tagboard Drone/Bomber Configuration January 1971 Summary of Tagboard B-52 Launches December 1970 Memorandum for General Allen, Subject: Commo Requirement to Support Program D Tagboard Activity March 1970 Memorandum for the DNRO, Subject: Tagboard Background Notes March 1970 Memorandum for the DNRO, Subject Tagboard January 1970 Memorandum for JCS, Deputy Director for Reconnaissance, Subject: Tagboard Operational Mission August 1969 Memorandum for Dr. McLucas, Subject: Tagboard Program Review April 1969 JCS Paper 2150-284-1, "Program Concept" for Assuming Responsibilities for Tagboard February 1969 Memo for Colonel Worthman, Subject: Tagboard Program Concept March 1968 Memorandum for General Berg, Subject: Tagboard March 1967 Memorandum for the President, Subject: High Performance Reconnaissance Drone (Tagboard) December 1966 Memorandum for the President, Subject: Tagboard December 1966 Memorandum for Dr. Flax, Subject: Tagboard November 1967 Memorandum for Mr. Nitze, Subject: Tagboard Launch July 1968 Memorandum for General Berg, Subject: Tagboard Management Concept April 1968 Memorandum for Mr. Nitze, Subject: Successful Tagboard Test Flight June 1968 Memorandum for Mr. Whit Hill, Subject: Tagboard Collection Satisfaction June 1971 Memorandum for Dr. Naka, Subject: Review of 4200 Support Squadron February 1971 Memorandum for Deputy Secretary of Defense, Subject: Tagboard Flight Analysis December 1970 Memorandum for Dr. McLucas, Subject: Tagboard Status November 1970 Memorandum for Assistant to the President for National Security Affairs, Subject: Tagboard Missions March 1970 Memorandum for the Director NRO, Subject: Tagboard Background Notes Memorandum for the Director NRO, Subject: Successful Tagboard Test Flight July 1969 The D-21B Reconnaissance System October 1968 Letter from DNRO to General Schriever, Re: Tagboard Program April 1965 Memorandum to General Ritland, Subject: SR-71 and Tagboard May 1965 Letter to DNRO, Re: Tagboard November 1963 Letter to DNRO, Re: Tagboard Program Test Support March 1965 Memorandum for the Director of Reconnaissance, CIA, Subject: Aircraft/Drone Vulnerability Study December 1966 Memorandum for Chief, Special Security Center, Subject: Termination of Project Tagboard September 1971 Memorandum for BYEMAN Security Officers, Subject: Termination of Project Tagboard September 1971 Memorandum for Program D Chairman, Subject: Change in Security Proposal for Projection of Tagboard November 1969 Cable 90399 - Codeword discussion for D-21 Drone Film November 1969 Memorandum for DNRO, Subject: Security Proposal for Protection of Tagboard End Product November 1969 Memorandum for Dr. Flax, Subject: Tagboard Program July 1966 Memorandum for Dr. Flax, Subject: Tagboard November 1966 Memorandum for the DNRO, Subject: Successful Tagboard Test Flight, May 1969 Memorandum for the DNRO, Subject: Successful Tagboard Test Flight, July 1969 Memorandum for the NRP Executive Committee, Subject: Reorientation of the Tagboard Program November 1966 Subject: Proposal for Tagboard Drone Launch From B-52H September 1966 Note to Dr. McLucas, Subject: Tagboard Navigation March 1970 Memorandum for the DNRO, Subject: Tagboard January 1970 Tagboard Program August 1967 Tagboard Codeword Considerations and Articles November 1988 Project Tagboard Assignment to Program D April 1963 Memorandum to DNRO McMillan Re: Transfer of Tagboard from Program B to Program D October 1963 Memorandum Regarding Improper Marking of BYEMAN Document - Very High Performance Reconnaissance February 1969 D-21 Drone Contingency Plan December 1970 Memorandum for SAFSS and JRC/JCS, Subject: Tagboard Test October 1970 Memorandum for DNRO Program D, Subject: Project Tagboard - Security Responsibilities April 1969 Disposition Plan for BYEMAN Studies - Major Assets December 1978 Memorandum for General Berg, Subject: Program D Functions and Responsibilities April 1967 Memorandum for Dr. McLucas, Subject: Program D Study March 1970 Memorandum for the Comptroller, Subject: FY 1968 Initial Program Approvals, Director D July 1967 Memorandum for Colonel Hartley, Subject: Initial Program Approvals, FY 1969, June 1968 FY 1969 Budget Issue No. 2 - Tagboard Drones November 1967 Memorandum for Assistant to the President for National Security Affairs, Subject: Forecast of NRO January 1971 Memorandum for SAFSS, Subject: Director's Report for the Excom November 1970 Operational Limits and Characteristics During Mated Flight and Launch August 1967 D-21 Drone Photos

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.13

14 - All That Glitters “Callbacks”

A/N: Ahhh, holiday traveling, back at last!

Full Chapter List << 12 - Affairs of the Heartless 14 - All That Glitters >>

As the minutes turned to hours, even the great Gabriel Lorca began to feel the effects of doubt nibbling at the edges of his confidence, though he took great pains not to show it.

The Dartarans were running late. Almost two hours at this point, because he had thought they would initiate contact with the merchants during his call to Starfleet Command. That had been his intention: "Admiral, they're telling me the transmission is live now. Shall we?" Cue live communications intercept. Show Wainwright firsthand that he knew what he was doing, and his confidence and bravado were entirely justified.

But the call hadn't come, and as much as he'd enjoyed relaying a firsthand account of Tederek to Katrina (what a delightful surprise that was), it hadn't been the payoff he expected.

It was impossible to completely rule out that he might have misread the outcome of their conversation, but every bit of Lorca's instinct told him he had not, and he had to trust his instinct. It had rarely led him wrong. Coupled with the fact that doubt and hesitation were liable to get you or your crewmates killed in a pinch, he didn't afford himself the luxury of second-guessing things. You had to make your decision in the moment and ride out the results. Decisiveness was key to effective captaincy.

There had to be some information he was missing. How else to account for the miscalculation?

If only the investigation into the Dartarans' communications logs were getting anywhere. Russo had been cleared to return to duty and was presently engaged in a full and thorough reckoning of the logs from an office somewhere belowdecks, but hadn't had much success beyond identifying another hunting enthusiast who had probably been on a lului hunt and might have been the one to tell Margeh and T'rond'n about the opportunity in the first place.

The call would come. He simply had to distract himself until it did.

At the moment, that distraction took the form of Benford's ship report covering events onboard during the away mission. Lorca sat in the captain's chair, focused on the report with such pensive intensity he was almost completely still save for the faint tapping of a finger against his leg.

"Events" was a very generous description of the report's contents. It largely consisted of an accounting of routine, standard, and everyday shipboard tasks that might have characterized their time in any sector of space in the known universe, but which Benford had nevertheless diligently recorded to provide his captain with the peace of mind that, no matter what had happened on Tederek, the Triton had been secure and safe under the watchful eye of Jackson Benford. The only thing of any real note was a small, unofficial, personal addendum to the report detailing the installation of thermonuclear seat warmers that had been so “wildly successful” the upgrade had to be rescinded half an hour later lest the ship mutiny out of jealousy. (This was not the first time Benford had used a particularly boring shift as an opportunity for some creative writing, and would not be the last.)

Normally, Lorca would have gotten a chuckle out of Benford's addendum and the extremely apropos double-meaning behind Benford's usage of the words "hot ass," but his present frame of mind had no room for any levity. Instead, he reread for the fourth time a sentence detailing the minor adjustment of a deflector to compensate for interference from a local neutron star, parsing each word in a measured succession that eliminated all other active thought from his mind but failed to completely quiet the slow churn of discontent in his stomach.

And then it finally happened.

"Transmission intercept!" exclaimed Kerrigan, and the whole bridge seemed to snap to attention.

Unfortunately for the long-suffering Lt. Russo, the match for the transmission target came not from the logs he had been so painstakingly tracing, but from the Triton's main database.

“They're calling Risa?" said Kerrigan with a note of surprised confusion. "Planetary directory.”

Risa, the pleasure planet, vacation jewel of the Federation. While that might have surprised Kerrigan, it made perfect sense to Lorca. Why wouldn't a purveyor of exotic hunting excursions catering to the galaxy's wealthy elite set up an office on a planet famed for its hedonism? He rocketed out of the captain's chair as the transmission came onscreen.

The two sides of the transmission were like night and day. The Risian woman on the left was stunningly beautiful, with bright green eyes and cascading waves of honey-brown hair framing the traditional Risian disc on her forehead. Arrangements of colorful tropical flowers filled the unoccupied areas of the frame with bursts of vibrant color. Everything about her seemed to convey beauty, light, and life.

In contrast, the Dartarans' dimly-lit office was immediately familiar to Lorca, as were their dour, prickly faces. The red curtains hanging on the walls were open, revealing several previously hidden bookshelves and dozens and dozens of hand-bound octagonal books. Several books were missing from the shelves and appeared to be stacked in the foreground on top of the office console. One of the books was currently being held aloft in Margeh's clawed hand.

The Risian woman beamed at the Dartarans as she said, "Warm welcomes from Risa, the most pleasant planet in the galaxy! How may I direct your call?"

"Beldehen Venel," Margeh read aloud from the book in her hand. It seemed like a name, but might also have been an establishment or a codeword.

Lorca pressed a hand to his face. Damn it, Lalana. The reason they couldn't locate the merchants' info in the Dartaran archives was because the damn Dartarans had written it down. And from the looks of it, it had taken Margeh and T'rond'n the better part of two hours to find the book containing the information they wanted. Lalana might have mentioned the presence of the logbooks behind the curtains to them when they were on the Tederek moon.

"One moment!" The Risian woman searched her directory. "Transferring you now. Have a lovely day!" Her exquisite face was replaced by a humanoid male with spotted pale yellow skin and fleshy whisker-like protrusions above his mouth. Lorca glanced at Arzo.

"Gentonian," supplied Arzo.

"Yes?" said the Gentonian. A flicker of recognition passed over his face. He remembered Margeh and T'rond'n from before. "Ah, you are..."

"We wish to hunt," said Margeh with a sense of immediacy that saved Venel the trouble of remembering who she was.

A smile emerged beneath the whiskers. "Excellent."

The conversation that followed was strictly business. The Dartarans requested "the same package as before" and discussed payment (which was exorbitant, and had apparently gone up since last time). Beldehen provided them with coordinates to meet at in a five days' time and ended the conversation with what sounded like a standard disclaimer: "As a reminder, we reserve right to reschedule your excursion at any time for any reason and we provide no guarantees as to the success of your endeavor. All fees are nonrefundable. Best of luck on your hunt."

Margeh terminated the transmission, but Lorca could easily imagine her unvoiced response: Luck has nothing to do with it.

Lorca turned to face the bridge, smirking openly. "Ladies and gentlemen. Looks like we're going hunting." He could see the questions on their faces, but also the trust that their captain had everything well in hand as part of some master plan.

At 0900 hours, Lorca began to outline the final part of his master plan to all concerned parties in the conference room. With the exception of Lalana, the meeting consisted of Lorca's inner circle of senior staff: Commander Benford, Lieutenant Commander Morita, and Lieutenant Commander Arzo.

In such a private setting and with no impressionable junior officers to overhear, Benford had no qualms voicing his concerns with the plan. "Again into the field, captain?"

"Captain's prerogative," said Lorca, fixing Benford with a look that suggested the decision was a firm one.

"And I can think of no one I would rather have at my back in the event that things become difficult!" exclaimed Lalana. Arzo glared at her slightly in disapproval. It was the third time she had piped up to share a personal opinion. She didn't seem to quite grasp the particulars of meeting decorum and when might be appropriate for her to chime in. (Namely, when she had something of substantive informational value to contribute.)

Benford swallowed a sigh. There was no stopping a captain who wanted to take an active role in away missions, of course, and plenty of captains did just that, but they had four months until the new ship was ready. He really wanted to make sure Lorca was alive to see it, for both personal and professional reasons.

Lorca gestured at Lalana as if to say, "See? She gets it." Some part of him suspected the objection was jealousy on Benford's part. In the old days, Lorca and Benford had done more missions together than either cared to count, but lately Lorca had been spending more time with Morita. "Alright, then. Everyone clear on their part?"

"Yes, captain!" said Lalana.

"Sir," said Arzo with a nod. Morita inclined her head and Benford smiled warmly and nodded with decisive acceptance.

"Dismissed."

They all exited the conference room. Morita, Benford, and Arzo headed off to handle their respective preparations, but Lalana paused in the hallway just outside. Lorca had to sidestep to avoid tripping over her. He looked down at her expectantly. Her security detail was waiting for a destination, but she didn't seem to have one. "You know, I wanted to ask you something," he said, indicating she should join him.

"Oh?" She fell into step beside him. The security detail waited a moment, then followed a respectful distance behind.

"The name of the merchant Margeh and T'rond'n called? 'Beldehen Venel?' Was written down in one of their logbooks." The bridge came to alert as they entered, but Lorca barely took note.

"Was it?" said Lalana as they entered the ready room. She followed him to his desk and stretched up to its height.

Lorca took a pair of fortune cookies from the bowl and put one in front of her. "You might have mentioned those books when we were there." It wasn't terribly judgmental, just enough to convey his mild disappointment. He checked his fortune. The world you can see is smaller than the world that is.

She did not take the cookie immediately. "I am sorry. I did not think the books were of note. I have never understood the appeal of them, to be honest with you. Books are such a flat way to experience the universe."

Lorca drew back in surprise. "Flat" was not a word he associated with the act of reading, technically correct as it might be. "I suppose your people don't have books."

"No. Lului do not write, we only speak. When you speak, the words are alive. When you write, they are dead."

Again, not how he would describe the written word. In fact, almost the exact opposite—writing had long been how humanity kept alive the words of the greatest minds in human history. It was also an efficient, engaging method of consuming information.

He ate his cookie, chewing contemplatively as Lalana finally opened hers. She put the cookie part in her mouth and held the fortune aloft with her tail for him to read. "Difficulty now is an investment in future happiness."

"Mm," she said. It was not clear if she agreed or disagreed with the sentiment. She seemed preoccupied.

He waited a moment. She had no teeth, but it seemed only right to give her a moment to do whatever it was that passed for chewing or digesting, even if Ek'Ez had said she did not have a real stomach. "Another for the road?"

"May I observe when you contact Beldehen Venel?"

The suddenness of the question surprised him. "I don't see why not. I'll have it patched through to your quarters."

"I meant, may I observe it directly?"

"From here?" It wasn't that he misunderstood her meaning, but it was an unusual request. "It's the same transmission anywhere on the ship."

Her tail flicked sharply to the side and she looked away. "It may seem that way to humans, but to me, it is very different to experience something in person than on a flat surface. The vibrations, the taste of the air, the sense of volume..."

"You mean firsthand, in the thick of the action." Lorca tilted his head very slightly. "We're not so different in that regard."

She turned her enormous green eyes back on him. "Then, I may observe it?"

He hesitated. "It might be a while..." He still had a few notes on Venel collected overnight to review.

"I will wait!" She immediately withdrew from the table and strode to the chair, gliding onto the seat.

Lorca frowned at her presumptuousness. "There isn't something you'd rather do? Jump around? Taste plants? Work with Kerrigan?" He realized he'd never asked what lului actually liked to do; his ideas of her hobbies largely stemmed from the tour of the ship, and the knowledge that she liked climbing trees, which wasn't an option on a starship. (He could have sent her to contribute to Li and Ek'Ez's research in sickbay, but he wanted plausible deniability in the event their poking and prodding soured his interspecies diplomacy.)

"Ensign Kerrigan is asleep for another two and a half hours," she said, proudly demonstrating her grasp of human time.

Fair enough. Kerrigan's current shift rotation started in the afternoon. "So make some new friends in the galley," Lorca offered. He almost suggested browsing the ship's cultural archives, except given her opinions on "flat" media, that was probably a miss.

The reaction this provoked was immediate. She touched her finger joints together. "Nnnn," she went, almost a whine, "a few people is fine, but too many is very... stressful, and in the galley there are always very many people."

As understandable as that was, she was being awfully stubborn. "There must be something you want to do besides sit in here."

"Nothing would make me happier in the universe!" she proclaimed, rotating her hands again. "I promise to be very quiet and not disturb you. I will take a nap." She twisted, curled up in the chair, and covered her eyes with her tail.

Lorca stared. He hadn't given permission and was well within his rights to remove her. "Lalana," he said sternly, "if you're going to take a nap, do that in your quarters." No response. "Lalana."

"Please may I stay in here? I hate being in there alone."

She was still curled up with her eyes covered, so there weren't any physical emotional indicators, but it didn't take a genius to see she was lonely. She knew a handful of people on the ship, all of whom were there to do their jobs, and the one person whose job it was to interact with her was asleep.

Perhaps he'd see about assigning another ensign to keep her company. Maybe someone had an idea for a cultural or historical survey they'd like to do before Lalana was returned to her homeworld. He made a mental note to have Benford elicit some proposals from the crew. In the meantime... "Fine," he said. "Just this once."

Lorca grabbed a cup of coffee and resumed his review of the intelligence gathered overnight, glancing at Lalana periodically. She didn't move and he soon stopped looking. The Risians had been happy to comply and supply all their records pertaining to the merchants, and of course Command had a couple of pertinent files, and Lorca now had a fairly good idea of Beldehen Venel's role on Risa and his purpose at large.

Venel represented the legitimate business operations of a small Gentonian merchant conglomerate with an office on Risa. They were one of hundreds of suppliers to local establishments and seemed entirely unremarkable on the surface. But their connection to various higher-end cultural and entertainment establishments gave them access to information about Risa's more elite patrons. This would be how they farmed targets for the more lucrative tourism side of their business.

Lorca also took a moment to review the file of "Gabriel Lopez," which the overnight security chief had fabricated for the operation. It was nothing fancy, just a standard Federation citizen record that would come up when Venel checked. There was one for Morita, too.

Unlike the ruse with Margeh and T'rond'n, this call didn't require any particular conversational preparation, just a clear head. He cleared his throat. "Lalana?" Her tail shifted and she turned her head towards him. He wondered if she had actually been sleeping, or just sitting with her eyes closed for the past twenty minutes. He activated a commlink to the communications station. "Connect me to Risa's central directory."

"Yes, sir," said Russo.

Lorca removed his uniform tunic. "Not a single word," he warned Lalana. She placed her tail over her mouth.

The transmission went live and Lorca was pleasantly surprised to see the same Risian woman as before. "Warm welcomes from Risa, the most pleasant planet in the galaxy! How may I direct your call?"

Even knowing this was her standard greeting, it still felt warmly personal when she said it directly to him. "Beldehen Venel," he replied, smiling in return. Whoever had decided to employ a woman with her looks as a planetary greeter had made an excellent choice. It was enough to make you want to abandon whatever you were doing to fly to Risa and ask her what time she finished work, and if she was free later.

"One moment!" Sadly, her face disappeared, and Lorca hastily adjusted his expression to a more neutral one as Beldehen Venel appeared in her place.

"Starway Traders," greeted Venel, the name of the conglomerate.

"Beldehen Venel?" asked Lorca, as if he weren't sure.

"Yes, I am Beldehen."

Lorca smiled confidently. "Gabriel Lopez. I got your name from a friend of mine, Margeh. You spoke yesterday?" He kept his tone entirely casual, relying on his naturally disarming charm.

Beldehen was understandably on edge having yesterday's conversation mentioned by a complete stranger. "Yes? What of it?

"We were wondering if you could add two more to the expedition."

Beldehen did not respond immediately, but there seemed to be an unrepentantly greedy glint in his eye.

Lorca went on, "You see, we have a bet with them. They said they'd catch three of these 'lului,' so naturally, my wife said she'd catch four. I mean, assuming you have the space."

Whatever reservations Beldehen had were quickly erased. He recognized the overconfidence of a rich mark when he saw it, and betting was a common pastime of the fabulously wealthy. "That can be arranged. Did you want the same package?"

"Well now, that depends," said Lorca, looking almost comically pensive. "What options are available?"

Beldehen began to rattle off several amenities, noting that there were no permanent accommodations on the planet, so everything would have to be brought in with them and removed, thus the cost. Lorca picked mostly lower-range options, but scattered in a few mid-range choices so he didn't sound too stingy.

Then came the trophy options.

"Standard trophies are skulls and lenses. The lenses are the most popular part, a biological glass, absolutely unique to the species, and we can mount them for display free of charge. Unfortunately, all the other parts degrade, but there is a process that can net you a full skeletal replica of your kill if you prefer! For a modest fee."

Lorca resisted the urge to look in Lalana's direction. "I don't think that'll be necessary, skull and lenses sound fine."

"We also offer a meal package. Eat what you kill, prepared by a top-grade specialist chef. Lului meat has a shelf life of under an hour and doesn't freeze well, so we guarantee a meal like you won't find anywhere else!"

Lorca swallowed, careful not to let his posture or expression slip in the slightest. "Just interested in the hunt, but thank you." Lalana might have preferred he pick that option, but he couldn't agree to eat a member of her species, not with her right there in the room.

The total turned out to be a little more than Margeh and T'rond'n's package, but entirely manageable. "There is also the matter of security arrangements."

These turned out to be extremely comprehensive, to the point that Lorca interrupted after a few minutes and asked, "Can you just forward these to us and I'll have my assistant take a look?"

"We will give you a copy of our procedures, but it's important I outline them now, to ensure you understand the importance." Lorca begrudgingly gave his assent and Beldehen continued with the overview.

The merchants seemed to have covered every conceivable possibility in terms of security. All gear and luggage would be searched, no communications devices of any kind were allowed, no recording devices, no unauthorized or unknown vessels were allowed at the meeting area or while in transit, their transport would be left behind at the rendezvous point, the list went on. "A single violation of these protocols, and we will be forced to cancel your trip and reschedule," stressed Beldehen. "Do you understand and agree to these protocols on behalf of yourself and the other members of your party?"

"I do."

"Very well. Be sure to have payment ready in full. I'll send you the coordinates after we've received payment." They were new customers, so Beldehen was taking some extra precautions. Probably wanted to look up Mr. and Mrs. Lopez's information before fully committing to the expedition.

"Oh, that won't be necessary, we'll ride with Margeh and T'rond'n," said Lorca. "And they'll cover our payment. They lost the last bet we had." He grinned.

"Very well. Please remember, we may reschedule your trip at any time for any reason, and we make no guarantee as to the success of your endeavor." It was almost word-for-word Beldehen’s last words to the Dartarans. How many times had he given this spiel to clients over the years? "Best of luck on your hunt."

Since Lorca wasn't upset the way Margeh had been, he offered her thoughts as a final send-off: "Luck has nothing to do with it."

Part 14