#if you go back far enough you might find threads about the allegations and stuff

[isa-ghost]

hey it's the anon who asked what dr*m did,

I decided to do my own research (mainly cause I was curious) but... I can't find much? let me rephrase it - I did find the allegations from 6ish months ago, that he's going to court with one(?) of them, but that's... all? I didn't find the court's verdict, confirmations, or him admitting either... and any post or video I find has both the OP and the comments mostly on his side and believing that it's either not true or true but not grooming, even people who say they're not his fans or don't even like him.

so Im not sure if the confirmation didn't reach youtube or if I'm searching wrong or something?

but honestly while researching I realized that I cant stand him lmao, gotta agree with some comments I read - he made a mistake by showing more of his personality online, looks like any time he can handle a situation wrong/respond wrong he does it

so dunno, guess I didnt find the confirmation but at least now I don't find his old minecraft videos interesting anymore so theres that

Yeah he can't act properly to save his fucking life

Also I think most of the threads on Twitter and stuff that have all the proof he's guilty/etc is probably long buried, unfortunately. You could probably try to ask around saying you're trying to get the whole picture but tbh it's not a huge deal if you can't. You can try searching my blog but Tumblr sucks with that shit. The fact that this and his other controversies have been buried and lost to the void of the internet is typical white boy with a monstrously big platform shit so I'm not surprised. I never heard any details about court (prob for legal reasons) or a conviction either. All I know is there was screenshot proof from the victim that they talked, and Dr*m confirmed the screenshots were real but didn't say anything about other details. But those details literally can't be false if the screenshots & the shit said in them are true.

Anyway, as far as his other bullshit goes:

People found old kkk meme edits on his yt account through the wayback machine. More than once if I'm not mistaken

He has a history of defending himself using the r slur

He cheated "on accident" in a speedrun (the least important thing ever but everyone always brings it up)

He claimed he was going to donate all proceeds during pride month to lgbt+ charities & he'd do charity streams all month but never did

He defended himself about replying to haters, which would send thousands of his toxic stans after the person getting them doxxed/death threats/etc and he refused to address that it was irresponsible of him bc he was too entitled to immaturely clap back at the antis. Even other ccs, like B/itzel called him out about shit related to how he uses his platform irresponsibly & he unfollowed & shaded them like a bitch baby

The whole "accidental" copycat shit with QSMP/USMP and basically softcore stalking Q/uackity online.

His "apologies" for all of the above fucking sucked in multiple ways. And that's just 2021-Now shit I can remember off the top of my head, I lost my Twitter in May last year so now I get my info from people's posts about it on here or links to tweets.

Everyone largely suspects he spontaneously reignited d/smp lore & started the finale to cover up the groomer thing bc he has a history of doing smth "new and cool" every time he causes drama to divert attention and avoid accountability.

He's also suspected of suddenly rewriting the d/smp finale to paint his Irredeemable Abuser Villain Up Until The Last Stream as a sympathetic poor baby out of nowhere and wrote that his victim, c!Tommy apologized to him, which sends a HORRIBLE message about abusive relationships. T/ommy and T/ubbo have both subtly mentioned not liking the finale and that Dr*m had AWFUL communication during the last like 6+ months of the smp.

He also suddenly showed up in T/ubbo's chat lurking while T/ubbo happened to be mentioning he'd do his own research on the grooming situation instead of blindly siding with Dr*m and it was some shit out of a horror movie is2g, he suddenly dmed T/ubbo out of nowhere during it on discord saying they'd talk about it after T/ubbo wasn't streaming. Basically sounds like he was gonna bias T/ubbo about his innocence. Like he hadn't been in chat all stream long but SUDDENLY he was there the second the topic came up. But the d/smp ccs also can't say anything about the situation since it's a legal matter, so a handful of ccs have just stated/implied they don't support him other ways

He only quit MCC bc he threw a tantrum about how he couldn't practice for it but now that MCC island exists, people were getting better than him. He's habitually a sore loser about that kinda shit

He's got that whole weird "is he, isn't he" bullshit going on about him being lgbt. I personally think he's just catering to his stupid d/n/f shippers bc they like to truth their relationship & sexuality all the time and he's never explicitly said he's bi or smth. He's just vaguely been like "yeeeaahhhh I mostly like girls like 99% but maaaayyybeee I like guys idkkkk. 🤪" But he's also done that multiple times so who tf knows. I'm not gonna fully dismiss him & I understand no one including me is entitled to his specific sexuality, but he has garbage credibility on like everything so I'm neutral on the matter and find it hard to believe him

Not directly him related, but his stans went on a long and horrifying witch hunt on Twitter during the kkk ordeal doxxing, death threatening & harassing ENTIRE mcyt subtwts who spoke out against him and called him out on his racism, performative activism, shitty apology, etc. For example, I was part of S/neeg's subtwt and all my mutuals and me had to go private to avoid getting doxxed. It felt like being raided in some dystopian ass horror film. Entire subtwts were going private, panicking, paranoid they'd get outed & stalked & harassed by people just for condemning racism, raising Black voices, etc. It was borderline traumatic to some people, I know people who lost sleep over it bc they were so afraid.

That's all I can think of off the top of my head but the end of 2021 to early 2022 was a fucking nightmare between him being an immature entitled piece of shit and his stans blindly defending him and going out of their way to endanger people who rightfully opposed him.

[davidmann95]

*sighs* Modern times are weird. Thoughts on *that* Morrison announcement today?

Anonymous said: Thoughts on Superman and The Authority by Morrison, Janin and Bellaire? Its in the Penguin Random House catalogue as a hardcover coming in November this year

Anonymous said: Thoughts on the news about Morrison doing Superman and the Authority?

Anonymous said: So uhhh, Morrison is doing a surprise Superman & Authority book?

Anonymous said: how do you feel about the upcoming Grant Morrison-penned Superman and the Authority

Anonymous said: Morrison writing Superman & The Authority?!?!? MORRISON WRITING MANCHESTER BLACK?!?!?! Fuck yes, now you’ll have to admit Manchester Black is awesome.

Anonymous said: Superman and the Authority???

Anonymous said: Authority/Superman book being written by Morrison?

jcogginsa said: So Grant Morrison's not done with Superman it seems.

Anonymous said: So, Superman and the Authority? Thoughts on Morrison staying at DC?

Anonymous said: You’ve probably already been asked by thoughts on the Superman and The Authority announcement?

adudewholikescomicsandotherstuff said: So, there’s a new grant Morrison Superman comic. Thoughts?

oh look someone took a video of me this morning

...actually not really, because I was tipped off a couple weeks ago as to this being a rumor in certain non-public circles, so I was left to mull on the notion in private for awhile. I had in fact assumed that it wasn’t real, and that while Superman & The Authority was in fact happening it had probably only been offered to Morrison as a courtesy and really someone else would be doing it.

Lots of thoughts between what I had on my own and from talking with Ritesh Babu/seeing his own responses, let’s get to it. Obviously the main reason this is happening is because Jim Lee wants it to be happening - he can’t let his baby die on the vine with Ellis, and he needs a BIG name to wash the taste out of everyone’s mouth. The question then is why Morrison would go for it when The Green Lantern and Wonder Woman: Earth One were such pointed goodbyes to Big Two comics, Klaus remains as an outlet for any cape stories they want to tell, and they’re making TV money now. I’d say the answer is that while Wonder Woman is a tale about clearing away the old ways of things to make room for the new, and Green Lantern is about what’s cleared away getting one last bow...Clark Kent can’t gracefully exit stage left the way Hal Jordan can. Even if most of the rest of pop culture will be supplanted by the tide of time we’re not going to stop getting Superman stories anytime soon. But while in Batman and The Just the big question was “What son could ever live up to the eternal, glorious father who will never fade?”, now the question is “Oh shit, wait, Jon Kent is on the CW and probably taking over the Superman book proper, and that Coates/Abrams movie might not even be about Clark one way or another. What’s the *old* guy supposed to do if he’s gonna keep hanging around?” That’s why it has to be a ‘proper’ DC book - it asks whether the old things we won’t shake can ever truly be new again, or at least find a new role for themselves. And that role involves the team from the last moment mainstream superhero comics really felt like the future to Morrison, the team that represented the next step past their own breakout work in JLA and that their onetime protege’s career would later springboard off of, that was the template for 21st century superhero aesthetics in general. I want the first words of the first interview for this to be “I swear to god this time I’m really done afterwards”, but however crassly commercial the origins, I can see how Morrison would be convinced to do this as a trilogy-capper conclusion to their post-Multiversity DC work (especially with how Pax Americana and Wonder Woman were both in conversation with that whole Mills/Ellis/Ennis/Millar mode of superhero comics). What role can the old archetypes serve in a brave new world?

Additional thoughts:

* According to the Penguin listing this while filling out a 139 page trade will only be two issues, so it seems they’ll both be massively oversized (wonder if there’ll be backups?) and released as a whole pretty much immediately. In line with the Klaus format, and pretty close to the original plan for Superman Beyond.

* Guess Morrison was consulting on the Superman stuff in Future State as more than a gesture of goodwill. This does seem to potentially be set in that period given Clark’s graying at the temples, and since Superman & The Authority was a 5G rumor from way back (notably the same month as the Ellis allegations coming out) there’s an additional question of how long ago this was written. Not long enough ago or standalone enough that they put it in Future State itself, but even so.

* Really glad Janin’s here - not only is he a perfect choice and tied into Superman right now, he’s the guy who drew Midnighter in Grayson, out of which we got Orlando and ACO’s Midnighter, so he’s at the root of the Wildstorm resurgence. Also curious to see how far Morrison can push him.

* Ritesh pointed this out: Clark’s fully Tom Strong. The hair, the short sleeves, the gloves, the science hero vibe. And a thread of PKJ’s run is Superman’s power is beginning to fade, so he’ll probably be in that territory physically too and therefore needing to rely on help from other heavy-hitters.

* The roster mostly makes sense: Midnighter and Apollo are the givens, a new speedster (Lightray?), they like Steel so Natasha Irons being here isn’t surprising, and of course they’d include OMAC. But Manchester? And a Manchester who looks like Peter Capaldi? A Manchester who as you note I’ll be forced to like now? Wild. And...Enchantress? Okay?

* As far as cameos go I’m curious if we’ll see Jon, since he’s the guy who needs to have replaced Superman for the story to make thematic sense as I’m assuming it is, or the Superman Squad for similar reasons + then this can be an avenue for Morrison to tell that big Squad story they had in mind.

* It’s curious that the cover isn’t on a surface level aggressively provocative, because there’s so much about this that is. Not even the obvious fact of a Superman & The Authority book with Manchester Black on it (itself a hilarious fuck you to What’s So Funny), but that it’s the Superman shield from Kingdom Come - the iconography of that version of that guy hanging out with the 90s ass-kicker team in excelsis isn’t inconsequential. And while Action Comics and its socialist strongman was playing as nice as it could with its New 52 surroundings, this as a Grant Morrison future for Superman that isn’t All-Star is itself a pretty plain statement of intent that hey, THIS is what they think about what Superman's potential now, not what they did 15 years ago. Will that be a condemnation alongside Blackstars and the Hyperman story in TGL, or a testament to Superman’s ability to change with the times and continue serving as the man of tomorrow? If this is being collected in November, I imagine we’ll see this summer.

[historicallyace]

Hi hello, I've gone through your whole blog and it's fantastic! Now for my question, which is actually a general...wondering? Have you heard or seen sources for why the AVEN founder, David Jay, is apparently homophobic/misogynist/AntiSemitic? Myself and other Ace Twitter people are looking, but so far all we've found is normal queer growing pains and people making stuff up. I saw that you intended to look into AVEN eventually, so I thought maybe you'd have info?

I’m not planning on doing a post on AVEN any more at this point, because I’m so far removed from that drama and that website that at this point it just feels silly, but yeah, we can talk about David Jay. That might as well be how I start my day.

Let’s start with the fact that these arguments, regardless of any truth to them, are always being made in bad faith. The argument is never “David Jay is a bad person and shouldn’t be in charge of AVEN (aside: is he actually in charge of anything any more? He’s not listed on the moderation team at AVEN any more), and you probably shouldn’t use him as a source of information about asexuality,” it’s always “David Jay is a bad person, and therefore asexuality is bad, and therefore all asexual people are bad.” One of those, given reasonable evidence (take note of that disclaimer, it’ll be relevant later), is a reasonable argument. One of those isn’t.

With that said, let’s break down the arguments under the cut.

If they’re saying “David Jay is homophobic!” what they most likely mean is “David Jay made a joke on an AVEN thread once that involved a slur that I don’t think he has the right to use!” Here’s the thread, which is a shitshow all the way down to be honest, but is peak 2003 Internet. User AVENguy is David Jay, and posts in the thread about changing a university LGBTQ+ group’s acronym to include the word f*g. Given that no such university group has any web presence at all, ever, that I can find (and in particular, Wesleyan University, which is the school Jay attended, seems to generally use queer for its services and student groups), I’m reasonably confident that is is meant to be a joke poking fun at the length of the extended acronym, which you’d think exclusionists would love given how much they love chopping that acronym off at the knees in defiance of all history and logic. Now, I’m not saying that it’s a joke in good taste. But it smells like a joke to me, and doesn’t get treated as one in the court of Internet opinion.

Whether Jay actually has the right to use that particular slur is, to my mind, up for debate as he has had relationships with men (I believe he’s currently in a committed polyamorous relationship with a man and a woman?). I don’t know whether he IDs as bi in addition to ace, although I know people on Tumblr have made that claim. I’ve never seen a source one way or the other. I don’t know whether he’s attracted to men. I do know that I’m 100% not interested in interrogating what words he does and does not have permission to use based on a detailed history of his relationships.

If they’re saying “David Jay is a misogynist!” what they most likely mean is “David Jay has had sex and didn’t enjoy it, and the way he talks about it in interviews is uncomfortable.” See this interview for an example of this. What statements like this get interpreted into is the classic exclusionist line of “asexual people are being manipulative if they have sex”. The way Jay talks about sex is definitely not the way that someone who isn’t ace would expect to talk about sex. It’s not the way that I talk about sex, as an asexual person. But I’m not uncomfortable in a “this man is definitely treating these women badly” way, I’m uncomfortable in a “oh boy, you were obviously making some choices here that weren’t great for you” way. YMMV.

I’ve also heard allegations that Jay was “documenting his sex life with his ex-wife on AVEN.” Given that 1) Jay has never been married, 2) I don’t have enough search terms to go on to find the threads in question, and 3) I definitely don’t remember seeing something like that back in the day when I was actually active on AVEN, I’m inclined to discount that, but it’s an argument that’s out there.

If they’re saying “David Jay is antisemitic!” what they most likely mean is “I don’t like the AVEN logo.” This is honestly one I’d never heard before, and I’m not confident that this is right. If David Jay has actually said or done something that is antisemitic, though, I’m not able to find reference to it. So I’m guessing it stems from something like this, in which an anon is calling out the AVEN logo as antisemitic (under the assumption that is is based on the pink triangle). AVEN’s triangle gradient logo is based on the Kinsey scale (see here for an example of this diagram in use). It is a reconfiguration of the Storms Model. The fact that it is the same shape as the pink triangle is coincidental.

I feel like there could also be a connection to the AVEN mod drama of 2015-2016 - at the time, AVEN’s forums had rules that were enforced in such a way that peoples’ threads would get locked for pointing out that something someone else had said was bigoted (under “personal attacks” rules IIRC). I don’t remember whether there were specific incidences around that rule with antisemitic hate speech, but it is possible. Striking this part because I’ve managed to pull up some of the old references to the mod drama (see here for some details) which was actually older than I remembered it being, and am not finding any references to antisemitism accusations. So it’s probably just the triangle, which again, has no connection to the pink triangle. Two things can be the same shape without being based off each other.

So there you have it. These are the crimes of which David Jay has been accused. I find the evidence to be specious and open to interpretation at best, and flat-out lies at worst. You can, of course, make your own judgement calls.

My personal opinion is that I don’t really like the guy, but I will defend to the death the facts that he is not the be-all and end-all of asexuality, and he probably doesn’t deserve all of the vitriol that is slung at him.

[manonholloway]

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐳𝐞𝐫 // thread.

WHO: Whim/Manon & Lucky [ @lazersong ]

WHEN: Jan. 04

WHAT: Lucky finds a way to get Manon control of her body from the passenger, even just temporarily.

WARNING: Some violence and threat of murder, terminal illness

Lucky had found it — at least, he hoped he'd found it. It was a temporary answer to a long-term problem that would require more dire measures, but for now he at least opened a means of communication between himself and Manon. All it took was the click of this small device, silver and cyclical, that would release a high enough pitch that could allegedly trigger a Passenger to switch out. He didn't know for how long or if it would even work, but it was worth a try. He approached the apartment door he'd waited outside of so many times before and knocked twice.

Whim had only used the home of Manon's parents because of the ease of it all. She didn't have to pay rent  — with the threat of taking over their bodies with herself or her alleged friends  — and she ran that home like it was her own. Maybe it was a bit of karma for the monsters that had adopted her body. She wasn't expecting visitors, but had no problem in opening the door to whoever it was. "What do you want? I'm not in the mood to play any games with you today," Whim said honestly, slowly starting to close the door. "I really don't want to deal with this."

Lucky reached forward and placed an open palm on the door to prevent her from closing it, "Wait. I just want to talk. Can you come outside for a second?" he asked, seeming less agitated and confrontational than he normally would've when conducting a conversation with Whim.

Whim looked him over, not sure what he wanted to talk about. "Is this about the credits?" she asked, slowly opening the door back up again. It had to be, right? She stepped over the threshold of the door, placing her hands on her hips. "Because I mean it. A million credits, no discount."

"Something like that," Lucky said, stalling for time as he discreetly reached into his back pocket for the device. Stars, he hoped that this would work. "No discount? Not even for a friend?" "Why do you believe we're friends? You put me through torture in that park. We're far from friends," Whim said, frowning at him. "Is it because I let you talk to that mush for a mind girl for a minute? We're not friends. And that's not happening again."

"Torture? It was a hyper wheel, that's far from torture." Lucky protested before feeling perspiration gather on his palm anxiously and he reached forward, grabbing her hand and yanking her forward closer to him. "You sure about that?" he asked before pressing the small button on the device.

"Well if you  — " Whim started, surprised that she was yanked forward so quickly. She heard the piercing screech that only affected herself go off before she could comprehend what was happening, unable to do anything about it. She tried to cover her ear with her freed hand in a futile attempt to save herself, finding herself having to crawl back and escape from the forefront to keep herself sane. Her body, again, was not expecting to receive control so quickly, collapsing immediately. 

Lucky anticipated the collapse and he pulled her body into his arms immediately, allowing himself to fall so they were both crouched on the ground. "Manon?" he asked, wondering if it'd actually worked instead of just warding Whim away. "Manon, it's Lucky. Can you hear me?"

Manon couldn't hear properly at first, everything sounding distorted beyond all belief. She thought she heard a piercing ring in her ears, it slowly fading away as she started to comprehend his words. It was Lucky. He was back. Or... she was back? She couldn't remember anything since he last held her. ... Why was he holding her? She looked at him, starting to smile weakly. "L...Lu...cky....?" she said, before wincing in pain. What was that ringing?

Lucky nodded, wondering if she could even see him at all. "Yeah, it's me." he said as he cradled her. "Are you okay? Sorry about the ringing - it's all I could do to get her to go away.”

Manon kept trying to smile at the bhevor, hoping to ignore the nasty ringing in her ears. This wasn’t going to work, was it? “Hur...ts... a l...lot,” she whined, trying to sit up unsuccessfully on her own. Everything felt foreign to her, despite the body being her own. “I...Is... ah, is sh...e gone...?” Every word was a struggle in itself, overwhelming her.

"I bet..." he replied, feeling a touch of remorse but otherwise relieved he was able to bring her out again. "For now, yes. I don't know for how long though, so I'm... I'm sorry if things are confusing for you. I'm trying to figure things out right now but it's - it's really difficult."

She nodded slowly. “It’s... o... okay,” she said, placing her hand on his cheek. She looked visibly uncomfortable, very much in pain from the ordeal. “You... don’t,” Manon started, stopping to grimace. “W.... orry. I’m... okay.”

He bit his lip whenever she touched him, reaching up and wrapping his fingers around her wrist. "Are you? Because that's all I want, for you to be okay. I'm doing everything I can to try and fix this. I-I think I can get her out." Manon nodded slowly, her hand trembling in his hold. “Mmm... okay,” she lied. What if this put Lucky at risk? Trying to mess with a passenger? “Don’t... ever...ything isn’t... wor...king,” she tried to say, knowing how confusing she must have sounded. Everything was confusing to her, the way it felt like her mind had melted. But she knew that her body was starting to fail after everything she had been put through in her life. Maybe it wasn’t worth the effort. “Not... wor...th....” "No, don't say stuff like that. There are doctors out there who can get her out, she's just... She's waiting for you to get worse, but I'm going to get her out before that. I've just gotta find them," Lucky said reassuringly, "You're worth it, Manon. Okay? You're worth it."

Manon shook her head. “No,” she said, as sternly as she could manage. The change in tone hurt her chest slightly, causing her to cough. “Not... worth... it.”

"Yes, you are," Lucky insisted, forwarding a hand and cupping her cheek in it. "I think you're worth it, so I'm going to get her out and you can finally live your life. Okay?”

Frowning, Manon shook her head. “No,” she insisted. It wasn’t worth it if it got anyone hurt. “Sh...e’s bad... she’s going to h...hurt you.”

“She’s going to hurt me? I’d like to see her try,” he let out a small, broken-up chuckle. “I’ll take care of you. She won’t hurt me. I promise.”

Manon winced in response, the ringing in her head hurting too much to endure. “Wh...what if I d...don’t get bet...ter?”

“You will. You will,” he repeated, more in an attempt to convince himself than her. “Don’t worry about anything else. I’ve got you.”

Manon nodded slowly, smiling at him. “Th...thank you. You’re... really... good,” she said, feeling guilty.

“Not really,” he said. “I’m sort of an asshole. You’re what makes me seem good.”

“No, you’re... good,” she insisted, closing her eyes. The pained expression was starting to alleviate, just barely. “I... like you. You’re.... g-good.”

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence." he smiled, hoping that the pain was lessening. "I like you too. You're a lot more good than me, Manon."

She shook her head. “No... not tr-true,” Manon responded. She felt an itching in the back of her head, the passenger trying to claw her was back into control. “O-Ow.”

"Yeah, it is true. I'm a total asshole to everyone else. I was an asshole to you, even, but that wasn't really you..." he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. "Are you alright?" She shook her head, ignoring everything else he said. “M...My head... h-hurts,” she whined, rubbing her hand over her face. “Hurts.”

"Okay, okay, um... Fuck. I think she might be trying to get back in control," he informed. "It's what I read when it comes to this stuff, anyway. You've got to hang on."

“H-Hang on?” Manon asked. She trembled slightly, just covering her eyes with her hand. “But... it h-hurts.”

"I know, I know, but you've got to fight it. It's one of the only ways we can get her out without you turning to complete mush." he insisted.

Manon shook her head, barely able to keep herself from crying in her discomfort. “I... I-I don’t... Lucky, I c-can’t...”

"C-C'mon, just a little longer. This is your body. Your life. You have to fight for it, Manon." he pleaded with her desperately.

Manon nodded slowly, before starting to relax. She could do this. She could do this. She could... not. Whim forced her into the back, furious that she just had to entire that. Furious that she still ached in that pain. The passenger tried to hold on through the frequency, grabbing him by the collar. “Lucky?”

Lucky inhaled steeply whenever he was grabbed, lowering himself even though he was stronger than both of them. “Y-Yeah?”

“Fuck you,” Whim spat, sending a fist into the others face. She didn’t care where she hit, all she cared was that she hit as hard as she could.

Lucky groaned whenever he was hit, feeling a flash of pain engulf his jaw as he let go of her and held onto it. “S-Shit!” he yelped.

Whim shoved him off, trying her best to stand through the distorted view she had on everything. Fuck. “I’m going — to fucking kill this body,” she said, clenching her fists. “And then — then I’m going... I’m going to kill you. “

Lucky scrambled onto his feet and held up the device again, “D-Don’t sound too sure about that. One fucking click and you’ll be down for the count again.”

“I can take —  her down with me,” Whim scoffed, trying to focus her vision. Everything felt horrible and spun around her, although the ringing had finally stopped. “She won’t be able to fight me, she couldn’t. She’s weak.”

“Fucking try it.” Lucky said, hovering his thumb over the button just as a lingering threat. “She fought you off for that long, I don’t doubt she could do it for longer.”

Whim glared at him. “Then why haven’t you pressed it?” she yelled. “Because you know she can’t do it? Because you know she can’t use this body after I’m gone? Or because you’re too scared that you’re going have to deal with your feelings for some inept human for real?”

“Do you want me to?” he said in return with a raised voice. “Shut up. Your days are numbered whether you like it or not. Be lucky I’m not pushing you anymore right now or else you’d both be mush by the time I’m done.”

“Do it. Do it, I dare you,” Whim snapped. “I wouldn’t be mush. I’d recover. I’d live. Her? She’d never recover. She still will never recover. And she’s aware, right now. She’s a complete mess.”

“If I did this enough you’d crumble just like any other pathetic Passenger,” he hissed before slowly lowering the device in his hand. “But I still want to give her a chance, so remember this the next time I ask to speak to her.”

Whim frowned at him, though relieved that he lowered the device. “Aren’t you scary?”

“Whatever. You won’t be so cocky the next time that sound goes off, will you?”

She grinned. “Maybe I will be,” she replied. “You’ll never know.” Lucky scoffed and shoved her aside before walking past her and beginning to make his way down the stairs from where he came.1Message #lucky-manon

[aaronhart93-archive]

monogamy ll aaroman

Discord thread featuring: Aaron & @romanbeckett

Mentions: @ambrcsials @jayceelynd

When: morning of August 15, 2020

Where: Aaron’s penthouse

Triggers: arguing

Description: Aaron and Roman get into a fight the day after Alex kisses Aaron. Ro finds out Aaron and Jaycee hooked up months ago while Jaycee and Roman were still in an open relationship

Aaron.

The light peaking into his floor to ceiling windows woke Aaron up in the morning. He groaned. His fucking head. Water. He needed water. That was the only thing he could think of at this minute. He glanced over at Roman still sleeping next to him, and smiled as he slept soundly. The businessman slid out of bed and put a pair of sweatpants on to make his way downstairs to grab them each a glass of water. He stood in the middle of his kitchen and suddenly remember last night's event. "Fuck." he groaned, running a hand through his light brown hair. He made his way back to bed and set their ice water's down. "Good morning." He whispered, placing a peck on his boyfriend's broad shoulder.

Roman.

Ro had been stirring off and on all morning, going back to sleep each time because his head hurt so fucking bad. He drank way more than he’d intended to last night, but it didn’t stop him from remembering what had happened with Alex. Fuck. How awkward. Ro groaned when Aaron kissed his shoulder, figuring now he needed to try and wake up. “Christ.” He mumbled, and then rolled over onto his back with a hand across his face.

Aaron.

Aaron couldn't tell if he was groaning out because he was hungover or if he had instantly remember what happened the night before. Aaron decided to address the hangover first. "Drink." He said, handing him the glass of water that he had poured for the other. "And..." He reached into his night stand to grab out a bottle of Motrin. "The good stuff." He joked, shaking the bottle like it was a present and he was trying to figure out what was inside.

Roman.

Roman did manage to smirk at Aaron being adorable with his hangover remedy. He moved up the bed so that he could lean against the headboard in a dizzy state. “Fuck.” Roman was still rubbing his head, as if that was somehow relieving the pain. After taking some Motrin with several gulps of ice water, he chanced a glance at his boyfriend next to him. “Sleep okay?”

Aaron.

Aaron scratched his head and took a few Motrin himself. He cleared his throat before sinking down next to his boyfriend. “I just like...passed out. I don’t know if you’d call that good sleep.” He forced a chuckle then turned on his side to face him. There was a fucking pit in his stomach. And it wasn’t nausea from the hangover. He swallowed hard. “So I noticed Alex already left when I went downstairs...” He trailed off. “Are - erm - you okay?” He asked with hesitation.

Roman.

“Yeah.” Roman rubbed the heel of his palm over his eyes. “I did, too.” He sighed, and then lifted the water to his mouth once again. He needed like, ten of these. Ro didn’t say anything at first when Aaron asked if he was okay, because he just felt so weird about it all, and didn’t really know what to say. “Yeah. I’m fine. I feel kinda dumb for not seeing it coming at all, but. Are you okay?”

Aaron.

Aaron just shook his head. There were so many thoughts running through his mind right now. Did Roman think Aaron was flirting with Alex? Gave him signals? Or worse — did he think he asked Alex to do that? He huffed and rolled over on his back to look up at the ceiling. He took a deep breath in and out. “I guess...I just...I had no idea where that came from. You know I would never —“ he craned his neck to look over at him. He’d never cheat on Roman, but his past would beg to differ. “I swear I didn’t ask for that...”

Roman.

Ro did wonder about what Alex had said, the alleged talk he had with Aaron what had Aaron said to Alex to make him feel that way? Still, his boyfriend had a point, and he knew he wouldn’t say anything with intentions of putting ideas in Alex’s head. “I know. I believe you.” He turned to glance at the smaller for a moment, and then took another few sips of water. “You seemed upset with me last night before we went to bed.”

Aaron.

He felt a little relieved when Roman said that he believed him. There was still a knot in his stomach though, and some seemingly unresolved tension in the air. Aaron pressed his lips together and just shook his head. “No.” He began. “I wasn’t upset at you. Just the situation in general...” He said, then thought for a moment. “You haven’t been in a closed relationship like this since forever. Since Landon. Do you like what we’re doing? Is it enough for you?” Aaron knew he could be a little territorial over him. Some might even observe it as a little controlling which was very far from the truth, but he could blame anyone for getting that impression. He had to admit, he had thought a little bit about Roman coming out of an open relationship when they first got together and wondered if Roman was truly okay with the way their relationship worked.

Roman.

Ro furrowed his brows when Aaron turned this into a question about if he liked what they were doing, and if it was enough. He didn’t want to feel offended, but he was. An eighteen year old wanted to fuck them, and now Aaron wasn’t sure if he was enough? “Seriously?” He looked Aaron in the eyes. “Would I be against a threesome or something sometime just for fun, as a couple, like a lot of couples do? Sure. But do I need that? No.” He answered with an edge, turning to sit his water down on the side table. Roman normally didn’t have an attitude issue, but he felt like shit, and he was frustrated that Aaron was having this insecurity for what he felt like no reason.

Aaron.

Aaron blinked blankly a few times before a frown appeared on his face. “I mean...can you blame me for wanting to make sure? With your exes you could fuck whoever you want. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay with not being able to do that anymore.” Aaron was still so nervous that he was going to lose Roman even though he had proved time and time again that he loved Aaron and only wanted to be with him. He looked back up at the ceiling.

Roman.

“Excuse me?” Ro was looking at the other male with a shocked expression when he so freely spouted that he wanted to make sure Roman was okay with not being able to fuck anyone he wanted, like he was some whore who couldn’t control himself. He shook his head, and then threw off the covers so he could get up, and go to the bathroom. He needed to pee, and go through his morning routine anyway. Aaron could wait. Ro needed to cool off big time, because that really fucking hurt.

Aaron.

Aaron huffed when Roman got up and moved towards the bathroom. He tried not to roll his eyes. He just assumed Roman was overreacting. “Roman.” He said shortly, jumping out of bed to follow him to the master bathroom. “It was just a fucking question.” Aaron has literally no idea what he said to set him off like that. “What did I say?” He said, throwing his arms out to the side as he stood in the doorway to the bathroom.

Roman.

Ro turned on the hot water, letting it warm up as he brushed his teeth. He looked at Aaron in the mirror, annoyed that he had no idea how rude his question sounded, like the fact that he’d chosen to be with Aaron, despite how many people they’d hurt, wasn’t enough. “Aaron I’m with you, aren’t I?” He turned to look at his boyfriend. “I’m not some dog in heat that needs to go out and fuck a bunch of people to feel satisfied. I was in an open relationship, because Jaycee suggested it, and I’d never tried it before. Why would you ask me that unless you felt that might be what I want?? What have I done to make you feel that way?” Ro sighed, and turned back around to get a washcloth saturated in the steaming hot water, immediately applying it to his face like it was nothing.

Aaron.

Aaron’s heart kind of sank when Roman spoke to him like that. He just stood there with his arms crossed, staring at him blankly at Roman as he borderline yelled at him. He had no idea that he had come off that way. “I-I’m sorry. That’s not what i meant when i asked that question.” He confused. “You haven’t done anything to make me feel that. I-I just....I guess after last night...I just wanted to make sure you were happy. I’m sorry.” Jesus, Aaron. Stop being insecure as fuck. “I mean, I hooked up with both you and Jaycee while you guys were together...so I know this is different for you. I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing be perfect. The best partner anyone could ask for.” He told him.

Roman.

Roman immediately turned off the water when he heard Aaron say he’d slept with both him, and Jay when they were together. He had a damn good memory, and he knew that wasn’t something he’d ever been told before...by either of them. Why did it bother him so much? He just stood over the sink for a moment, thinking the words that followed from Aaron were sweet, but he couldn’t get past the other bit. “You and Jay?” He turned to look at his boyfriend, clearly effected by that statement. “Neither of you told me that you...” Roman trailed off, heart pounding a little. Wow, Aaron really had slept with pretty much every woman in town, hadn’t he?

Aaron.

Aaron could tell immediately that he punched a nerve for Roman. His eyes looked at him like daggers. Did he and Jaycee really not talk about the other people that they hooked up with? Aaron assumed roman knew. He shook his head. “Oh...” His heart pounded out of his chest. “I guess I would’ve assumed that you guys talked about that stuff...I thought you knew. It was um...I mean...we were each other’s first times for a few different things like that when we were younger so we kind of just...yeah.” Hi shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. “I’m sorry.” How many times had Aaron apologized this morning? It wasn’t even noon.

Roman.

He and Jaycee did normally talk about who they’d slept with when they were together, but no, she’d never mentioned Aaron. Jay of course knew about Aaron and Roman, but, apparently she didn’t feel the need to tell him about her and Aaron. Aaron didn’t either. Fantastic. Ro just turned back around and started scrubbing his face with his coconut face scrub, going harder than he normally would because it felt like he had endless amounts of frustration to get out. He didn’t even know why he was mad anymore, but he was. Hungover, and frustrated. He didn’t even say anything else, just scrubbing, and scrubbing, thinking about all the women Aaron had been with, and all the ones he didn’t even know about.

Aaron.

“Roman.” Aaron insisted as he watched his boyfriend turn to wash his face. He didn’t tell Roman about Jaycee because he assumed that Roman had known. How was this just coming up now? And if it didn’t, when would it have come up? Aaron didn’t even know what to say. He wasn’t sure if Roman was pissed at him for sleeping with Jaycee or for assuming he wasn’t happy in their relationship. Or both. He was too hungover to even think straight. “I’m sorry.” He simply repeated.

Roman.

Ro knew Aaron was sorry. He’d said it a dozen times at this point, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He finally rinsed off his face, and then shocked his pores with a splash of ice cold water after. “I know.” Roman finally said, his voice low and raspy as he then did a lip scrub, and applied his deodorant. He was OCD, and had to stick to his routine, especially when he was on edge. “It’s fine.”

Aaron.

“it’s obviously not.” Aaron told him frankly. It’s fine. please. He simply watched Roman do his morning routine in the bathroom. All of his products were of course in Aaron’s bathroom by now and he essentially knew that routine by heart too. He leaned against the threshold, arms crossed as he looked at his boyfriend in the mirror.

Roman.

Roman just sighed, not used fo being at odds with Aaron, so of course all that did was make him feel worse. He simply looked at the other male in the mirror before leaning over the counter with his face in his hands. He just needed a second to gather his thoughts, because he wasn’t even sure what he was thinking. “Can we jus’ move on?” He asked after a few moments, finally turning to look at Aaron face to face.

Aaron.

Aaron rubbed his face. He hated this. He hated this so much. Aaron wanted to move on. He did. But he didn’t know if Roman could. He took a deep breath when their eyes finally met. “I can move on. Yeah...Can you?” It came out a little more bitter than what he was expecting. He couldn’t even remember how this fight started anyway. He was still not okay with what happened last night and the pit in his stomach was still there. Bigger now than it was when they conversation started.

Roman.

Really? He was going to word it like that? Roman looked at Aaron like he might as well have just said ‘fuck you’, and then brushed past him to exit the bathroom. He needed coffee, lots of it, and hopefully that would lift his migraine, and his mood. It was so pointless trying to have this conversation while he was pissed off, and in a bad mood. He couldn’t do this right now, and if he kept standing there talking, he was going to say shit he didn’t mean, and regret it.

Aaron.

Aaron watched as Roman slipped past him, letting him go at this point. He regretted literally ever having this conversation. Maybe they each just needed some time to cool down, and they could revisit this some other time. The businessman put a shirt on, quickly ran some water through his hair, and sprayed himself with cologne. “I’m going to pick up, Des.” He said, shortly as he made his way downstairs.

[queenburd]

and in the end; chapter 1

This fic has been a year in the planning. It is 25k in totality, split into 6 chapters and an epilogue. It’s meant to be a sort of soft close on the last incomplete character arc(s) of Teslaverse. As such, I’m probably not going to be writing a lot more Teslaverse stuff after this. If I do, it won’t be to the lengths the past few fics for it have been.

It’s... really important to me, this fic. Teslaverse is too, which is why I tried so hard. There’s a ton of callbacks to earlier threads and fics laced through it, all of which are covered in the beginning of each chapter. But finishing this fic helped me figure some of my own stuff out and I really hope it’s as good as I wanted it to be. It will update once a day.

This fic will have some mild graphic descriptions in the final chapters. @mysteriie, who beta-read, said it was not too upsetting. There will still be an author’s note on said chapters.

chapter 1: i'd do it all again

callbacks and references: The “Get Out of Jail Free” Card, The Party

[INCOMING PREVIOUSLY RECORDED TRANSMISSION. RELAYING...]

[PLAYBACK]

The lot was in poor shape; long cracks in the concrete that had never seen sealant crisscrossed the faded painted parking lines. They looked like lightning bolts in the day, but now, in the black of early morning, they were nearly invisible. May's flashlight bounced off the concrete as she leaned against the decrepit link fence that Kass was making his way down. He leaped off it a couple feet away from the ground, and it rattled viciously from the impact, before halting abruptly as May grabbed and steadied the links.

They crossed the lot in relative quiet, the light a few feet ahead of them, bobbing unsteadily while May tried to match Kass's longer gait. “If I didn't know any better,” she said, speaking softly, “I'd think you were trying to ditch me.”

Her partner made some sort of noise that he hoped she would not discern for the mild irritation that it was. “I can't help how short your legs are, bird. Don't look further into it, you're doing me a disservice.”

“Okay,” was the simple answer he received, and that was that.

While originally startling at first, Kass had slowly become adjusted to being taken at face value. It was relieving, to not have to bicker constantly about his alleged intentions behind his actions. Very simply, May knew when Kass was intentionally being unpleasant, and when there were underlying reasons. In any case, it made conflicts short, and overall, communication was easier. Less stressful.

They approached the defunct glass factory that the lot surrounded quietly, though it seemed unnecessary. It had long been a site for vagrants and unruly teens, if the graffiti and dank tarps were to be believed. Yet, now, it was silent, save for the two quickly moving bodies.

“Point it out to me?” May requested. In response, he took her light, and directed it upward, to the small broken window above the large bolted door. “Right.” Rolling her shoulders, she shifted and took flight, taking a moment's pause to flutter and examine the crevice. And then she had slipped through, and he lost sight of her.

After the bailout, many months earlier, May had sat Kass down very seriously and said that she outright refused to let him do these harder “missions”, as she had called them, on his own. She had said, very shortly, that she respected his privacy, but if the next phone call she got from authorities was about a body, she would yank his spirit out of whatever afterlife it landed in and trap him in a bottle, simply to shout at him.

While that in itself was hardly intimidating, they had finally come to an agreement of sorts. It was easier to have back-up—to have someone to keep watch. So she had begun to accompany him on the more risky ventures, and in the process Kass had learned much more about his housemate and her abilities. There had been moments where, when he was certain he was down for the count from a nasty wound, she would glare hard at him and put her hands on his arm, and then he was back up and at it with whatever beast had tried its luck.

This was to say nothing for the moments where she had thrown up golden walls, shielding them both from incoming blows and falling debris. And certainly, when fighting creatures that prowled in the dead of night, it was particularly handy to keep around a creature of sunlight.

So Kass had come to accept, albeit begrudgingly, the second pair of hands. He wished more than anything she didn't have such a smart mouth for what seemed like every occasion, but that was par for the course with her. Besides, she had pointed out, he was the world's largest hypocrite, so he would have to deal with it.

There was a deep metallic thunk, and the door was pushed open from the inside slowly. Kass aimed the flashlight into the crack, and May grimaced, squinting. “Put the light down, asshole. This thing is heavy.”

“It's not, you've just got the physical capability of a nine-year-old. And it's a torch.” He pocketed the light momentarily to help her pry the door open enough for him to slip through, and then handed the thing back to her to aim at the interior of the building. As she took it, she scowled.

“We're in America, dipshit. It's a flashlight.”

“Britain came first, ya booby.”

“Do not.”

The glass factory was not a complicated structure from the outside. It was a long, somewhat tall building, with several chimneys that once released toxic black smoke but now lay dormant. Its roof was a shallow convex. By all accounts, it was simple like a child's play toy—four walls, a roof.

On the interior, however, the simplicity was cut through with complex machinery that lined the metal and stone walls. The light cut distorted shadows on the walls as it slipped through old pipes. They surveyed the many corners with suspicion. There were too many places for a creature to squeeze into and hide.

With hesitation, May took the lead, leading the light around each corner. “This feels like a disaster waiting to happen. Do you even know what we're tracking?”

“I've narrowed it down to a couple nasties,” was his short reply, “but no specifics. Whatever it is, it's solitary, and it seems right at home.”

“That's not comforting.” She continued forward anyway. “Even a hint of what it might be would be more helpful, dude. Do you smell that?”

He did. The scent of rot was thick in the back of the factory. Kass grabbed the back of May's hoodie when she stumbled, keeping her from falling onto the oldest of the remains. The body had been mostly stripped of flesh, though what remained clung tightly to the bone.

May shuddered, holding the light out to reveal what looked like a massacre. “God, that's a lot of people.”

“Different rates of decay,” Kass noted, breathing far more shallowly. “Likely one of our friendly neighborhood crackheads would wander in to get away from the cold, and the beastie would have its next meal.”

“Why go hunting when food walks into your lap, I guess.”

They carefully stepped over the splayed limbs and loose organs. May grimaced at a torso that looked torn open, the innards shredded. “These ones are newer.”

Kass unholstered his pistol and took the lead, his jaw tight. The smell was worsening, centered at the base of a large vial machine. He circled it silently as he could, and raised the firearm in time with May's light, falling onto the freshest corpse, and the creature that crouched over it.

He'd barely the time to register the moth-like wings before he fired. The thing screamed wildly, turning to shriek at the pair of them, and took off up into the rafters where chimney pipes and metal machinery made nightmarish noises as he fired after it.

“Fothermucker!” he swore, trying to track it in the dark. “Get the fuck back here, you overgrown luna moth! I'll tear your stupid eyebrows off and feed them to you!”

Beside him, May was squinting, trying to direct the light up to the ceiling. Every so often she'd catch a flutter, and then it was gone again.

“I'll track it! Just reload, maybe find higher ground!”

She covered his back while he turned back to the body at the base of the machine. Grimacing, he examined it. The face had been mostly mauled away, as had most of the chest. It was fresh, as fresh as tonight, possibly. The body was propped upright, dressed in dark clothes, a large emblem on the upper sleeve, still intact.

He froze.

“I got it!” came from behind him, and then May made a startled squeak as he turned and slapped his hand over her mouth and pulled her down to the ground. The flashlight fell out of her hand and clattered and rolled, the light illuminating the coiled phone cord that hung from the lapel of the jacket, and the silver and black patch that had no letters, but was simply a circle, with three arrows piercing into it.

Foundation.

He was suddenly deeply aware of the amount of noise they had made in the past two minutes. There had been no sign of units on their entrance, and May had been thorough in examining the building, but the body was new, which meant they had very little time. Seconds, maybe.

Kass grabbed her by the hand and pulled her up to her feet. He said nothing, pulling her hard deeper into the building until they hit the back wall. There were doors here, into offices. Despite her protests, he shoved May into one, slamming the door behind the pair of them. The slam seemed louder than it should have been—he realized, stomach dropping, that the large bolted front door had been rammed open.

“Kass, what's happening?” May pleaded, hushed. In the dark, he could just barely see the anxiety in her face, inches from his own.

He pushed her aside to examine the room quickly. “What do you think, Maybelline? We weren't the only ones tracking this thing!” Fuck, why weren't there any windows? Wasn't ventilation important in a factory that produced this much heat?

Ventilation. Venting. Pipes. Kass lined the walls, running his fingers against the chipping paint as high as he could reach. No good. “Where's the torch?”

“I....”

He swore again. “You dropped it?”

“You didn't give me time to grab it!” she hissed back, holding out her palm. He watched the outstretched hand turn golden, then near blinding white, and it painted the room in stark light and shadow.

“Fuck me, fuck me blind, where is it.”

The vent was over the chipped desk in the near center of the room. He clambered onto it, a sprawl of stick limbs, and stood upright. Like this, he could press his hands right onto the cover. He pushed hard against it.

It didn't give.

“Shit tits!”

The smash against it with his elbow was a desperate one that ended only in a splitting agony down his arm. He nearly keeled over there, grabbing the limb and holding it close.

God, this was it, wasn't it?

May was yanking out the desk drawers and file cabinets one-handed. There was the sound of gunfire outside the door, which masked her own climbing on the desk beside him. She put her hands on his shoulders, and the pain in his elbow turned into pleasant heat that he barely noticed because she was climbing him to grab the vent cover herself. Her smaller fingers fit into the slots.

“Move, move, let me see if I can use my weight to pull it out.”

“You're too light,” Kass said sharply, but he climbed off the desk to grab her by the torso. He pulled her, and the vent cover with her, down to earth. The thing popped free, and she crashed onto the desk. The impact was loud, louder than the pained gasp she made, but for now the door stayed closed.

Kass panted. The shouting outside the door was getting louder. Closer.

“Okay,” May said, pulling herself to her feet. “Move your skinny butt, get up there. I'll follow.”

There was the slam and crash of metal just outside the door that they both swiveled to face. Kass recovered first, but he stayed frozen in place anyway, because May's expression was one of a cornered animal.

He'd never seen her wear that expression.

Fuck, she had never actually faced the Foundation. They didn't know about her. She was a prize specimen, a never before seen scip, her hands glowing with natural light. She was an agent's dream come true. Did she know that? Was she realizing that?

His face felt cold. He crossed the room, hand in his pocket. When Kass pulled it out, it was to hand his partner the PDA he kept with him near constantly. “No, you first. That tin can looks like a stiff breeze could dent it, with my shit luck it won't even hold my weight. You get up, get out. I'll go through to lead them off.”

“What? No. We can both make it--”

“Do you think that vent's still in the condition it was in the day it was installed? It's cheap metal, and it's probably buckling in places. Can you imagine, I get in Mission Impossible style, get halfway through, and then it just collapses right in the middle of thirty already trigger-happy agents?”

She didn't have a retort to that, though he could see she was trying to form one. “Okay, then we'll both go through, I can cover you.”

“No,” Kass said sharply. His heart was thundering in his ears.

“We're not splitting up! I'm sticking to you, that was the deal!”

He hissed through his teeth, eyes flickering everywhere but her face. He looked up to the vent again. Back to the door. How much time did they have?

“....Fine,” he said finally. “Let's try the vent. Christ knows I've ended up in more idiotic places to die. Go on.”

The tone with which he spoke was a tired, almost annoyed one. It was more like him, so May nodded. She shifted into a smaller form, casting the room back into darkness, and flitted into the vent system, calling out through it. “There's a couple different splits, maybe to the neighboring room, but I think it will lead out the side.”

“Good,” Kass said softly after her. He tossed his gun into the vent after her, and pushed the vent cover back into place. “You'll have no trouble then.”

“Kass? Hey!”

Little talons scraped against the inside of the vent cover. Kass pushed it further into place, his smile grim.

“Listen, I will meet you outside. Whatever you do, whatever you hear, keep moving. Do not try to play fucking hero.”

“Kass, no, no no no, this is stupid, I can help!”

His eyes flicked back to the door. “You know, I knew you'd say something like that. You're a fucking idiot, of course you would.”

Whatever retort she had, he stopped listening, hopping off the desk and striding to the door. He bit into his tongue, cracked the thing open, and peeked through.

The noise was starting to die a bit. Units were cleaning up the remains of the deceased victims. He watched a small squad of four surround a door similar to his own—another office, like May had said. Silently, Kass counted the seconds as they slammed the door open and dived into the room. When the last body had disappeared through the door, he dived out his own, ducking between machinery and the wall.

The factory was filled with too much light, now. Any flying creature that crossed the open space in the rafters would have been spotted in seconds, and brought down just as fast.

Kass was faintly aware that he was trembling. He tried to focus. He used to be so good at focusing, hyper-focusing, hyper-fixating (words he hadn't really understood until more recently, a whole other language about mental health he'd put off learning) but now, in the moments he needed to focus most--

He could see it, you know. He could see her throwing up shields, trying to keep the gunfire off of them as they bolted through the factory. He could see them being blocked in at the door, could see her doing something drastic to get them out. And hell, maybe it would get them out, but then suddenly a thousand pairs of eyes would be looking for her.

And if the SCP Foundation looked for you, you'd eventually be found. This was evidence enough.

“They'll keep you under the tightest lock and key. They'll shove you into the tiniest cell and poke and prod at you until they know every little thing you can do and then they'll leave you there.”

How long ago, had Dib warned May? Kass didn't know, but of the few things he did know, it was that Dib, for once in his obnoxious irritating life, was right.

Barely breathing, Kass leaped from shadow to shadow, trying to force his twig-like body into crevices too small for him. The blood rushing in his ears was loud enough that he was almost certain they would hear it, would look his way just from the sound.

Nobody turned yet. He forced himself to keep moving.

God, why was he doing this. Why was he in the thick of it, knowing there was no chance in hell he'd make it through? There was a tiny angry voice in his head, the one that was his, that sounded most like him and had never stopped being there, despite the kinder months. It was mean, and it was paranoid, and it was screaming at him. He was an idiot, he could have gotten out, and instead he was running out the clock. Had he even considered the result? Had he already forgotten the promises of D-Class?

Had he really thought he could outrun the Foundation forever?

It wailed in his head, while he ducked behind a metal cabinet, away from the moving lights. He told it kindly to sod off.

He was never going to get away from the Foundation, but she could. It mattered more, that she could.

He was an idiot, it repeated, softer now. He was an actual moron, he'd given in, he'd turned into a bleeding heart, and it had doomed him.

Kass had no response to that. He elected instead to ignore it.

He made it almost halfway through the factory before his luck ran out. Up on a scaffolding, somebody shouted, and Kass ran. There was no point to it, really, but like some sort of wild animal, he ran instinctively. There was a burn in his legs as he leaped over a metal table and hit the floor hard, and he was almost blind with adrenaline when someone finally tackled him from the side and knocked him hard into another vial machine.

He didn't make it easy, despite the inevitability of it all. He clawed, kicked, swung without looking, and he knew from the impact that some of his blows hit. From that, at least, he could get a grim sort of satisfaction, even as his head finally made hard contact with the ground and his vision filled with nasty black and red spots.

No, this had always been inevitable. Kass has never truly believed he would have some sort of picturesque happy ending, away from the Foundation. It had, after all, shaped him. It was too big a part of who he was, and he, stupid Kass, had made too many enemies inside it for it to ever really let him go. It had shoved its claws into his ribs years and years ago.

The spots were spreading across his vision. He tried to get up—a boot, he thought, pushed him back down with almost no trouble.

It was never going to let him go. This was the last time it was going to get to dig its claws into him, because this time, Kass knew.

He knew, struggling to stay conscious for a few moments longer, that this time, the Foundation was not going to let him go alive.

[TRANSMISSION INTERRUPTED—RECONNECTING...]

[shirlleycoyle]

Apple’s Double Agent

For more than a year, an active member of a community that traded in illicitly obtained internal Apple documents and devices was also acting as an informant for the company. 

On Twitter and in Discord channels for the loosely defined Apple "internal" community that trades leaked information and stolen prototypes, he advertised leaked apps, manuals, and stolen devices for sale. But unbeknownst to other members in the community, he shared with Apple personal information of people who sold stolen iPhone prototypes from China, Apple employees who leaked information online, journalists who had relationships with leakers and sellers, and anything that he thought the company would find interesting and worth investigating.

​​Andrey Shumeyko, also known as YRH04E and JVHResearch online, decided to share his story because he felt that Apple took advantage of him and should have compensated him for providing the company this information. 

"Me coming forward is mostly me finally realizing that that relationship never took into consideration my side and me as a person," ​​Shumeyko told Motherboard. Shumeyko shared several pieces of evidence to back up his claims, including texts and an email thread between him and an Apple email address for the company's Global Security team. Motherboard checked that the emails are legitimate by analyzing their headers, which show Shumeyko received a reply from servers owned by Apple, according to online records.

​​Shumeyko said he established a relationship with Apple's anti-leak team—officially called Global Security—after he alerted them of a potential phishing campaign against some Apple Store employees in 2017. Then, in mid-2020, he tried to help Apple investigate one of its worst leaks in recent memory, and became a "mole," as he put it. 

Last year, months before the official release of Apple's mobile operating system iOS 14, iPhone hackers got their hands on a leaked early version.

At the time, people in the iPhone hacking community told Motherboard that the leaked iOS build came from a stolen prototype of an iPhone 11 that was purchased from gray-market vendors in China. Sensitive Apple software and hardware occasionally leaks out of China, and there is a thriving gray market of stolen iPhone prototypes that are marketed to security researchers and hackers interested in finding vulnerabilities and developing exploits for Apple's devices. 

Apple is obviously not happy about any of this. But over the years, apart from the time it famously went after a Gizmodo journalist who found a prototype of an iPhone 4 in a San Francisco bar, the company has largely kept its response to leaks under wraps. In mid-June, Apple lawyers in China sent letters to a Chinese citizen who advertised and sold stolen devices, demanding they stop their activities and reveal their sources inside the company, as Motherboard reported last month.

“People trust me, and find me pretty likable, and so I’m capable of using that to my advantage”

The secretive Global Security reportedly employs former U.S. intelligence and FBI agents and is tasked with cracking down on leaks and leakers, but very little is known about the way it operates. 

One of the ways the team tracks leaks and leakers is by cultivating relationships with people in the jailbreaking and internal community, such as ​​Shumeyko. It's not the first time something like this has happened. As Motherboard reported in 2017, an Apple employee had infiltrated the early jailbreaking scene, acting as a double agent. 

​​Shumeyko has never worked for Apple, but he assumed a similar role last year when he decided to give Apple information about the iOS 14 leak. He had obtained a copy of the leaked iOS 14 build himself, and said he also learned how the leak went down and wanted to share the information with Apple.

On May 15 of last year, ​​Shumeyko reached out to Apple Global Security via email, according to an email chain he shared. He offered information about the person who allegedly purchased the iPhone 11 that contained the iOS 14 development build, the security researchers who got a leaked copy of the operating system, and a handful of people who apparently live in China and sell iPhone prototypes and other devices that appear to leak out of factories in Shenzhen. 

"I think I found the mole who helped him orchestrate the thing," Shumeyko wrote to Apple, referring to the iOS 14 leak and the person who allegedly purchased the stolen prototype. "I've identified which one of the 3 Chinese hardware suppliers sent him the phone. I’ve received a package from that same guy in the past (still have the DHL tracking number), and I have his phone number. Would any of the above be of any aid?"

Do you work, or used to work for Apple? Do you research vulnerabilities on Apple's devices? We’d love to hear from you. You can contact Lorenzo Franceschi-Bicchierai securely on Signal at +1 917 257 1382, OTR chat at lorenzofb@jabber.ccc.de, or email lorenzofb@vice.com

At the end of the email chain, an Apple employee asked if Shhumeyko was free for a chat.

"What’s the number you use for Signal/Telegram? We will assign a member of the team to reach out," the employee wrote. 

Shumeyko said he was willing to help as a way to redeem himself for being part of that community, and to get some money out of it, according to him and his online chats with an Apple Global Security employee.

"People trust me, and find me pretty likable, and so I’m capable of using that to my advantage," ​​Shumeyko told the Apple employee during their monthslong online chats. "I regret my involvement in all that stuff and I’ll do whatever you need me to redeem my past actions." 

"I know I’ve been naughty, but my actions so far landed the right connections which I can use to help further the company. Getting into this whole thing was a mistake on my side," ​​Shumeyko told the Apple Global Security employee. 

What he shared was interesting enough to prompt Apple employees to keep the communications channel with Shumeyko open for almost a year. 

Two people who are part of the Apple jailbreaking and internal community confirmed that ​​Shumeyko was dabbling in it by advertising leaked data on Twitter.

“He is widely trusted to be an original source of that information.”

"He’s tweeted a lot with internal materials from Apple," one of the people in the Apple jailbreaking and internal community told Motherboard in an online chat. "I think he is widely trusted to be an original source of that information."

Another person, who also asked to remain anonymous as he, too, is involved in the jailbreaking and internal communities and fears retaliation from Apple, told Motherboard that ​​Shumeyko "was most definitely involved in that community and he most definitely had some level of access to things he shouldn’t have." 

According to the person involved in the jailbreaking community, "the 'Apple Internal Community' is just a bunch of kids on Twitter who find, buy, sell, and trade firmware or other such things without realizing the repercussions such things carry." But other than kids, there are also serious sellers, mostly based in China, who sell prototype iPhones for thousands of dollars, as a Motherboard investigation showed in 2019. 

And Apple has been trying to crack down on them recently by sending them legal letters, which revealed that the company knows their names and home addresses, despite the fact that they only use nicknames online. 

Last year, ​​Shumeyko sent Apple investigators a PDF titled "The List," essentially a dossier where he shared personal details such as phone numbers, WeChat IDs, and alleged locations of three people who advertised and sold devices on Twitter, as well as a U.S. citizen who collects iPhone prototypes. One of the people listed in the PDF is the one who received the legal letter from Apple, Motherboard has learned.  

Apple declined to comment for this article. 

None of the people ​​Shumeyko mentioned to Apple, and whom Motherboard spoke to, had any idea that ​​Shumeyko had become a mole for the company. 

When he was acting as a mole, ​​Shumeyko wanted to keep his relationship with Apple a secret, "fearing I might damage that fragile thing we had going on," he said, referring to the company. But at this point, now that he’s coming out, ​​Shumeyko doesn't care what anyone will think of him.

"Them knowing what I am doesn’t really change my life for better or worse. And, well, I just wanted to be heard for once, and the story I tell to be truthful," ​​Shumeyko said.  

Three iPhone prototypes. (Image: Giulio Zompetti/Motherboard)

Months after he first reached out, Shumeyko explained more about why he wanted to help Apple.

"I was inspired by the rumor that the raid on the journalist’s house during the iPhone 4 Gizmodo incident was conducted by Apple’s own ‘police’ team," ​​Shumeyko told a Global Security employee. "So I assumed prosecuting [an iPhone prototype collector who also traded leaked information and hardware] and the Chinese would be easy then, and that I’ll get to walk away with a reward generous enough to jumpstart my life entirely."

Shumeyko said he expected Apple to "do something" with the information he provided, but it's unclear what the company achieved with ​​Shumeyko's information. Despite asking many times for details about how the company was acting on his information, the Apple employee he was corresponding with never gave him any answers. ​​Shumeyko also repeatedly asked if it would be possible for him to be paid for his information, citing financial problems he needed to take care of. In this case, too, the Apple employee was noncommittal, according to the conversation's transcript. 

"I know I'm very much a part of the problem that I'm trying to report, and I really hate to be the Karen of this story, but still, I'm determined to fully follow through with this and I'm sorry for being a huge inconvenience," ​​Shumeyko told the Apple Global Security employee, according to the chats viewed by Motherboard. "I know you probably can't answer all of my previous questions, so could you kindly get someone who can talk to me over email or this app? Again: 1) How helpful were the materials provided? 2) Should I try to obtain more information? 3) Do I get any protection at all as a whistleblower?" 

Still, his constant flow of tips on people in the jailbreaking and internals community, as well as tips on Apple employees who were active online and were leaking information, were well received by the Apple Global Security employee.

"We appreciate the information you provide. Please feel encouraged to keep sharing what you have," the nameless Apple Global Security employee said. The chats between ​​Shumeyko and the employee spanned almost a year, and the Apple employee consistently thanked ​​Shumeyko for the information and asked for more information about specific materials and people. 

In the summer of 2020, ​​Shumeyko told his Apple Global Security contact that he’d been in touch with an Apple employee in Germany who worked on Apple Maps. ​​Shumeyko alleged that the employee was offering to sell access to an internal Apple account used by employees to log in to their corporate emails and intranet. ​​Shumeyko said he always kept contact with the employee, who eventually told him that he’d gotten fired. 

“Do the right things to protect Apple. Keep it that way, you will be proud of yourself, so will we.”

​​Shumeyko said he was hoping that by helping Apple, the company would help him in return. But that, he said, never happened. And he's now questioning whether he should have helped in the first place.

"Now it feels like I ruined someone for no good reason, really," ​​Shumeyko told me, referring to the Apple employee in Germany.

Weeks later, out of frustration, ​​Shumeyko said he leaked the information he gathered from the employee to the Apple-focused blog 9to5Mac, which wrote an article based on the leaked data. ​​Shumeyko almost immediately regretted it, telling his Apple contact,"I know that looks bad. And I apologize for that."

"Going forward if you plan to publish anything, please consult us (if you want to do the right things for yourself)," Apple Global Security's employee told ​​Shumeyko. 

"Please understand that our goal is to protect Apple. All our actions are guided by the premise of what is best for the company, our employees, and our customers (of which you are one). Therefore your help—and insights—in understanding possible threats to us are very important," the Apple employee continued. "My personal advice is that you continue to do the right things so that you can build a positive image for yourself. Do the right things to protect Apple. Keep it that way, you will be proud of yourself, so will we."

During his conversations with the Apple Global Security employee, ​​Shumeyko shared the contact information and social media profiles of three alleged sellers of stolen devices in China, a person who collects these type of devices and who was allegedly involved in the iOS 14 leak, and the personal details and names of connections of someone who allegedly used to be an Apple intern and then became part of the jailbreaking community. 

A year after ​​Shumeyko started talking to Global Security, his relationship with Apple is basically nonexistent. Shumeyko said he last heard from Global Security on July 15. 

​​Shumeyko told Motherboard that he is still struggling financially. He is also still on Twitter trying to sell Apple data in an attempt to finally cash out on years of being involved in Apple leaks.  

A screenshot of a recent tweet by ​​Shumeyko (Image: Motherboard)

"Don't really enjoy doing this," ​​Shumeyko said in a recent chat. "But I also do need the extra money. Unfortunately, I have more pressing issues to be worried about other than Apple." 

Meanwhile, one of the people who knew of ​​Shumeyko and is part of the jailbreaking and internal community said ​​Shumeyko's story as an informant will make people suspicious and less open to talk about leaks. 

"I think it goes to show that you can’t openly and safely experiment with leaked Apple internal materials," he said. "These sort of events sort of enhance the hostile vibe sometimes felt in the community." 

Subscribe to our cybersecurity podcast CYBER, here.

Apple’s Double Agent syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[celticnoise]

There are occasionally articles in the Scottish press so cringe inducing that I honestly read them with an open mouth, amazed that anyone ever thought they were of publishable standard.

Sometimes I laugh.

At other times I am aghast because I know there are good writers out there, kids coming up in the trade, who could do a real job at a national title but who can’t get a break because somebody thinks a gurning halfwit who can barely write in complete sentences is a better bet.

This is how national titles die.

This embrace of mediocrity.

Gary Ralston’s article today in The Record was not mediocre.

It fell so far below that standard, that line, that it almost defies belief.

Editors on blogs would have balked at publishing something so devoid of a single positive element. It was appalling.

I am a major film fan, as my vast collection of movies attests to. I have seen the greatest films in the history of the cinema, but I am a connoisseur of the art itself and to truly appreciate greatness you have to spend many, many, many hours watching dreck.

There are movies that are bad, and you can live with that because they find a way to be entertaining in their awfulness; one of the best films of recent years, The Disaster Artist, was about the making of just such a film, the notorious Hollywood cult hit The Room, made by a madcap figure named Tommy Wiseau, and so dreadful that there is a kind of demented brilliance about it.

I’ve seen both The Disaster Artist and The Room, and one is a masterpiece and the other, as the title of the better films suggests, is a disaster piece, but I have a place in my heart for them both, although one was made with enormous talent, wit and vision and the other is a shambles of epic proportions … but it was made with great passion and even love.

This is why it still has an audience today.

But there are films which are genuinely awful, and even having them on for five minutes is like an assault on your state of mind and those films insult me on a level deeper than mere frustration and anger can touch. They scream their badness in your face like a drunk idiot in a bar who’s trying to start a fight with everybody. Ralston’s article has the same effect.

The greatest film critic of all time, Roger Ebert, could have been writing about Ralston’s piece when he penned these excoriating words; “(It) doesn’t scrape the bottom of the barrel. (It) isn’t the bottom of the barrel. (It) isn’t below the bottom of the barrel. (It) doesn’t deserve to be mentioned in the same sentence with barrels.”

Ralston’s article was written as if he nipped out for a pee or something and a rabid, gibbering Morelos fan-boy sat down at his computer and started to type.

Perhaps Ralston just failed to notice that his article was already written when he came back; perhaps he was grateful at not having to do any real work.

But how he missed the copious amounts of drool and saliva that must have coated his keyboard I do not know.

I hope he had it cleaned afterwards.

Entitled, “Alfredo Morelos and the disgusting Rangers abuse his rivals will dish out to rile him up” you can tell from the headline – which is like English translated into German into Swiss into Swahili and then back into English again – that this is not going to reach Ebert’s Pulitzer Prize winning standards.

It doesn’t pretend to have standards at all.

The sub-headline comes next; “If the Colombian striker was Scottish the Ibrox star would have a statue outside Hampden.”

And it’s there, right there, that you first feel the spittle hitting your face and smell something worse than curry and lager breath. Not only is this going to be bad, it is going to be offensive in a way that makes you want to hit something really hard.

I remember once writing a review for the picture The Grey, an excellent, dark movie about how the survivors of an air-crash try to escape from the territory of a pack of wolves. It’s an unforgettable film, but not a date movie by any manner of means.

I started the review thus. “The Grey opens with Liam Neeson in the snow, lost in grief over his dead wife and reciting an old poem. He has a shotgun with him and is planning to blow his own brains out. The mood of the film goes downhill from there.”

That’s the general tenor of Ralston’s article; it starts bad and gets worse.

In fact, it starts awful and somehow finds new depths the deeper into it you get.

“Alfredo Morelos can sleep easy as he heads into 2020 no matter the result at Celtic Park,” it starts. “One Scotland, many cultures? It’s unlikely the Colombian striker will be called up any time soon and asked to lend his endorsement to the Holyrood campaign.”

Right there, from the off, it establishes its argument; that Scotland – the whole country – has behaved appallingly towards Sevco’s resident ned. That claim, in itself, is pathetic, ridiculous beyond the remotest connection to reality … and Ralston’s only warming up.

“Scottish football can be a brutal, tribal business, but the civic nationalism espoused by Nicola Sturgeon was long ago exposed as a fallacy when it comes to the Rangers frontman.”

I read that this morning half asleep, and honestly for a moment thought that I still was.

It was like some deep dream hallucination; was I actually reading this, or was it some perverse construct of my imagination?

Because surely, no sane person would have written that?

I will skip over some of it and get to the gist; suffice to say he compares Morelos to a Spartan braving a hostile atmosphere and backs him to handle it. He then moves swiftly to his point, a banner held up by the Aberdeen fans earlier in the season, which he seems to want to hold all of Scottish society responsible for.

“That disgusting banner held up by Aberdeen fans at Pittodrie earlier this year, which crossed the line from naked hostility to blatant racism, represented a new low for the image of Scotland as a tolerant, welcoming nation.”

Where even to start? How about with the fact that Aberdeen fans have a reputation for engaging in some of the ugliest behaviour out there. I’ve written many times on this site that they have more in common with the Ibrox horde than they would ever care to admit.

They have brought child abuse banners to Parkhead; funny Ralston has never got in a flap over those?

What do they do for the reputation of our national game?

I have no love for the diseased element of the Aberdeen support, but to claim that the banner in question is racist is to stretch the facts to the point where you can hear the elastic snap.

It might not have been very nice – “your mother is a mattress” it read – but the act of translating those words into Morelos’ native tongue does not make it bigotry.

I find Ralston’s fury interesting for a number of reasons, not least of which is that there is often bigotry in football stands around Scotland, and most notably at Ibrox itself. But he never pours such venom onto it or those who perpetrate it, and he certainly never tries to use it to paint a picture of Scotland as some kind of country steeped in racial hatred.

I do agree that Morelos has been subject to racism in Scotland.

So has Scott Sinclair.

But amazingly, the most egregious example of it that the Ibrox striker has had to endure came from someone who works at Ralston’s own newspaper, Keith Jackson, whose article on Morelos from last year, all filled with allusions to the Colombian drug wars and cocaine, was so staggeringly over the line that anti-racism organisations were fuming at it.

Ralston makes no mention of it in his piece. I wonder why.

The article then extols the virtues of Alfredo Morelos; Humanitarian, as if any of that matters a damn.

As if any of it were in any way relevant to how he behaves on the pitch, with his diving and snarking and elbowing and kicking and hacking.

This appeal for Morelos to be recognised for sainthood crawls so far up the player’s posterior that I won’t be surprised if the Colombian is interviewed before the game tomorrow and Ralston’s voice comes out of his mouth.

Morelos is not the first Scottish player to do stuff for charity.

Many of them do so every single day.

Some of them have set up charitable foundations.

I will say this; in the modern world it is a goddamned miracle to see privileged footballers giving something back to the communities they came from, but if every one of them deserved a “statue outside Hampden” you wouldn’t be able to get near that ground for stone figures commemorating them.

Morelos is not exceptional as a human being any more than he is exceptional as a footballer.

He is certainly far from the only player to have risen from humble beginings; the game itself is built on such legends.

If Morelos was playing for Motherwell he would get none of this adulation.

Ralston then reports that Kilmarnock players learned Spanish so that they could better abuse Morelos during the match in midweek.

Even if it’s true, what’s his point?

That gamesmanship goes on?

We know it does.

Morelos is not special in that regard either and this assertion that he is treated differently from other footballers is as dishonest as it is laughable.

The most ridiculous point comes late in the piece; “It’s worth pointing out Morelos was rarely booked and never red-carded during his time in Finnish football, but that’s only because rival players are far too gentlemanly in that corner of northern Europe, surely?”

Is he alleging a refereeing conspiracy here?

Because that would elevate the article into the realms of Sevco paranoid fantasy and it’s bad enough already.

He seems to have lost the thread of his own argument otherwise, by his sarcastic suggestion that perhaps Morelos got no abuse over there.

I have another explanation, and it’s supported at least partly by facts.

There are some players for whom the Ibrox environment and the media sycophancy which swirls around it has toxic effects.

Morelos is not the first player to be consumed by the arrogance, hatred and hostility that sweeps through that place.

He will not be the last.

Ralston follows that paragraph up with this one; “What do you mean nice guys come last? The Finns have already qualified for Euro 2020 so maybe we should take a leaf from their book and focus on bringing out the best in ourselves, rather than the worst in others.”

I don’t even know what that means in the context of his article, or in any other context either.

It’s an example of fingers and brain not being in sync; it happens to everyone who writes for a living, but a good editor is supposed to weed that stuff out before publication.

But if The Record had good editors none of Ralston’s piece would have seen the light of day.

His second to last paragraph puts the cherry on the cake; having established that rivals fans hate Morelos, rival players wind him up and refs are out to get him, Ralston goes all-in and accuses the broadcast media of pursuing an agenda as well.

“The cameras will follow his every move at Parkhead and every foul in which he is involved will be analysed to death in a bid to confirm a narrative of destruction on often spurious evidence.”

This asks us not even to believe the evidence of our own eyes.

For Morelos is an angel.

Morelos is pure in spirt and heart.

So if you do happen to see him throw an elbow or aim a kick or stamp on a fallen opponent’s leg, look deep into your heart and ask yourself this question; did that really happen or has the camera been made to lie?

Ask yourself another.

Did I really see it or are my own prejudices causing hallucinations?

Ralston starts out trying to make a case that Scotland is racist and the treatment of Morelos proves it.

But he never asks why Morelos would be different to the dozens of other foriegn nationals to play in our game down through the years and who have not been subjected to racism of any kind. He doesn’t even offer a single piece of evidence of racism directed at the player, although that should have been easy to do.

Instead he gives us an off-colour Aberdeen banner and Killie players learning Spanish so they can insult Morelos on the pitch.

And based on this he wants to blacken the reputation of a country.

Ralston is a complete moron.

When writing about one particular movie, Ebert wrote that “It’s so ludicrous in so many different ways it achieves a kind of forlorn grandeur. It’s in a category by itself.”

Ralston’s piece does not achieve grandeur of any kind, forlorn or otherwise.

And it fits into a very distinctive category, one that will be familiar to the readers of the rag for which he works.

It is diabolical, deplorable, fanboy gushing, which bears no resemblance to the art and form of journalism which that laughable rag allegedly exists for.

It should be filed under Utter Shite.

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[politicalfilth-blog]

James Alefantis Threatens PizzaGate Researcher Ryan A. O’Neal

We Are Change

In a video uploaded to Youtube, Pizzagate researcher Ryan A. O’Neal alleges that James Alefantis threatened him and his family’s lives – and the evidence is breathtaking and creepy.

http://wearechange.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/Pegasus-Video-Removed-Because-of-Alefantis-Threats.mp4

In the video above, O’Neal shows a series of messages with James Alefantis which purport to show threats made by the DC pizza shop owner. O’Neal has since filed a police report.

In the alleged messages Alefantis cryptically says, “Everything they say about me is true except I don’t like kids.”

O’Neal claims to have compelling evidence that the allegations of Alefantis’ involvement in a pedophile ring are true.

“We are ninety-nine percent sure where it is,” Ryan O’Neal stated in a recent video he uploaded entitled “Pegasus kill-room” seen below.

http://wearechange.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/KILL-ROOM-FOUND-Pegasus-Museum-owned-by-Alefantis-is-home-t.mp4

In the video, O’Neal identifies the now infamous “kill room,” which he says has a specific brick pattern. He then traces it back to an original post on the “jimmycomet” Instagram page (which has now been made private). Internet sleuths found that the exact room and brick wall match up to an image found on a “margotwork.com,” according to O’Neal.

O’Neal also makes claims alleging the man featured in the picture, holding a blowtorch, is “Joe Wills.”

He further claims Wills is “one of the guys who helped design Comet Ping Pong” and states that the building in question, containing the “kill room” is not Comet Ping Pong but is the “Pegasus Museum,” located at 3518 11th St. R NW. The museum is “completely surrounded by other buildings” and even a “playground,” O’Neal states in the video.

O’Neal goes on to say that Alefantis contacted Joe Wills about a new roof design via his Instagram. In the Voat.co investigation researchers note that Alefantis asks Wills about his “thoughts” on the design.

O’Neal attempts to connect the dots and prove that James Alefantis is also the C.E.O. of Castellum Achilles LLC.

Shep Ambelas, writing for Intellihub, noted the connection between the LLC name and the ancient Latin for “a watchtower”.

He also noted that public records showed that the building had construction permits issued around the same time. Additionally, Ambelas added, “spray painting on the wall clearly says ‘kids’ with a down arrow.”

“This connection also demonstrates that Alefantis is not just a simple ‘pizza shop owner’ as he has claimed in the mainstream media on at least one occasion. Moreover, it is also important to point out that the definition of “castellum,” according to Wikipedia, is: “A castellum in ancient Latin is usually either: a small Roman fortlet or tower, a diminutive of castrum, often used as a watchtower or signal station e.g. on Hadrian’s Wall,” which is an interesting caveat with a cherry on top, if I may add.

The building itself and the property in which the Pegasus Museum is situated on are located in the “Columbia Heights” neighborhood. Assessed at a value $325,560, the museum is owned by Castellum Achilles LLC.

According to public records, the museum has previously had building permits issued for construction which seem to match up closely to a timeframe semi-consistent with photos that Alefantis himself posted on Instagram that show open trenches in what is believed by O’Neal to be the “Pegasus kill room.”

Strangely, it has also been discovered that within a close proximity of the Pegasus Museum several ominous markings, graffiti taggings, can be found. One of the tags, spray painted on a concrete wall, clearly says “kids” and has an arrow pointing downward.”

Prior to uploading his video, O’Neal reached out to conduct a user submitted interview with Alefantis. At first Alefantis denied his proposal, but reportedly responded very calm and collected.

The alleged conversation is below:

Alefantis began the conversation by saying, “Okay man you win.”

To which O’Neal responds with “interview?”

Alefantis then asks for O’Neal’s voat name. Which O’Neal responds with, “what do you need that for?”

Alefantis replies, “how do I know you have any cred?”

O’Neal then gives him his voat name “IsThisGameOfThrones”

Alefantis then points out that O’Neal’s Youtube account is different from his Voat name and asks a question about another user. “[Who is] hopingtohelp?” Alefantis asks, “Looks like a shill to me.”

Alefantis then says O’Neal’s first name, “I know Ryan he wanted me to tell you,”

O’Neal, responds “lol gotcha.”

This is when Alefantis takes a darker turn, “Is he your son, oh do you know his mom?” Alefantis asks.

O’Neal responds, “I’m confused?”

Alefantis then posts his full name, “Ryan Alexander O’Neal”

“Spelled it wrong,” O’Neal replies.

“So what’s up man?” O’Neal writes.

“Hes in trouble” Alefantis responds.

“Who?” O’Neal says.

“YOU,” Alefantis responds back in all caps.

Alefantis then says, “Call me you have ten seconds.” Followed by a 10 second countdown.

“Last chance” Alefantis writes.

O’Neal then calls Alefantis alleging that Alefantis “flipped out” and threatened his family and his girlfriend; Yelling in a three-minute phone call which O’Neil did not provide proof of.

“He said he was going to kill me, he said he was going to kill my son, kill my girlfriend, kill my mom, and send me to prison,” O’Neal said.

O’Neal alleges that Alefantis then told him to “Delete his Pegasus Museum video or he would die and his mom, girlfriend, and son would die and then that he would sue his dead body.”

The next part of the conversation took place over text messages directly to O’Neal’s phone which seem to confirm the earlier assertions that Alefantis threatened him as the harassment and threats continued.

“Just the pegasus shit, figure out how to do it – no waves,” Alefantis wrote.

O’Neal responds: “I am a super reasonable guy you don’t have to threaten me like that.”

Alefantis then replies, “You can keep your kill room shit about the rest of it fix this and we are reasonable” sending a picture of O’Neal and his mom.

Alefantis: Thanks. Feel ok?

O’Neal: Not really. Just threatened to kill everybody.

Alefantis: No need for all of that.

O’Neal: Deleted the video.

Alefantis: Good. Blame YouTube.

O’Neal: Delete the thread on Voat too?

Alefantis: They are taking things down. I think be more creative. Say you think it’s nothing or something — it’s your culture. CAlm down and think about it first.

O’Neal: Ok.

Alefantis: Let’s look and discuss. This might be ok. Thank you. Let me know when you have calmed a bit.

O’Neal: Give me a week.

Alefantis: Ha. Welcome to my world. Call me quick I’ll be nice this time. I appreciate you taking down.

O’Neal: I’m riding around with somebody. Gimme a minute.

Alefantis then responds, “Cute” and sends a picture of O’Neal’s girlfriend.

  O’Neal responds back, “Is that you being nice?”

“Not yet. So call quick then I can go to bed with less worries,” Alefantis, says.

O’Neal then tells Alefantis that Mods deleted his posts on Voat.

Alefantis responds back, “Ok. What’s mods?”

O’Neal clarifies the acronym “Moderators.”

“Humm draws attention?”Alefantis says.

O’Neal: “They deleted because my content was removed I guess. Reason: 1 2 3.”

Alefantis responds, “Humm. Looks there.”

Alefantis: “Looks like you are trying to make money off this.”

O’Neal then tells Alefantis that he is About to call him for a second time.

O’Neal called Alefantis back and said that “he was nicer” but that Alefantis still assured him “he would die” if he did not pull down the video and stay silent.

Alefantis then started more cryptic speech “Ok. One more thing this ‘happened to me.’ YOU — created this. You can uncreate.”

O’Neal responded, “It’s an interesting subject. Just doing research on a hobby basically. I would never want myself or family to have any harm done because of this.”

To which Alefantis replied, “Meaning — you created it for yourself — you can un-create. Yeah well it’s good you didn’t end up like Welch — in jail for 35 years. Or everyone who ‘s getting sued. You can find a much more profitable and beneficial hobby.”

O’Neal then states, “I mean nothing I did was wrong but wrong or not it’s just not worth it.”

Alefantis replies by saying, “Actually lots of what you did is illegal. And punishable. But it’s expensive to sue. So people don’t do it. I can explain it to you someday. There would also be criminal — state charges on some of it. But you would need someone smart enough and connected who wanted to make sure it was enforced. And so far you don’t have that.”

O’Neal responds, basically saying you win “I took down the video. You win by a landslide,” he says.

“So go to sleep. Thank you for that. It’s appreciated. And by the way this story is a pack of lies,” Alefantis responds.

O’Neal then asks Alefantis “What is it then? Pure garbage?”

Alefantis replies “Yup. I mean that wall is the same wall.”

“Oh I confirmed that lol,” O’Neal responds.

“But what the hell does that mean.” Alefantis asks (referring to the wall) “And our families deserve to be safe,” he added.

“No doubt. What y’all building in the room? Why the trenches?” O’Neal asks.

” You are too much man. On the edge of total destruction — still curious?” Alefantis replies.

“I’m curious for myself. No worries.” O’Neal says reassuring Alefantis.

“FBI liked your videos. So there is something. And. PLUMBING. Have you ever run plumbing?” Alefantis responds.

O’Neal sends an “lol.”

“To build a room it’s not trenches. Any basic construction moron would see the difference next.” Alefantis responded.

“So the kill room stuff was just a joke?” O’Neal bravely asks. “IDK about that stuff,” speaking about the plumbing he adds.

Alefantis replies with an “Ugh.”

“Sorry sorry I’ll stop.” O’Neal replies.

“You don’t know what.” Alefantis questions, adding “It’s a freaky room.”

O’Neal responds, “Construction.”

“That’s why people put shit on Instagram.” Alefantis says referring to if it was a joke.

“You never moved pipes I guess. You are a decorator,” Alefantis says sending him an old picture of one of his jobs.

“I designed a few bars. You like? You’re quite the designer.” O’Neal, responds.

Alefantis then makes yet another threat. “One more thing. If one of these assholes gets near my mom or her house that’s it for you. That’s bethesda fellows is driving over tomorrow. I’m sure nothing will happen but if it does.” he, says.

“They’ve been talking about Pegasus for awhile,” O’Neal replies back.

“Everything they say about me is true. Except I don’t like kids. At all. You should soon take all your shit down. Busted for profiteering.” Alefantis says.

O’Neal replies “Will do.”

Alefantis responds by saying, “Night.”

“Goodnight. Take it down now or later?” O’Neal asks

Alefantis answers, “It’s your culture.”

To which O’Neal replies “heard,” (letting Alefantis know that he got the message.)

“Maybe all. Prob best. Disappear. Profiteer gone. I’m going to protect my family now. Now or soon.” Alefantis says.

“Will do,” O’Neal replies.

Alefantis then makes one final threat “And I don’t really want to hear about you again from anyone. Night Ryan. Cute gf”

“I’m telling you I’m done. Way too real,” O’Neal replies.

Alefantis sends one final message “Lucky boy. Keep your Voat profile though XO,” to which he added emoticons of money, two ping pong paddles, kissy lips, and painted nails.

While everyone is innocent until proven guilty, O’Neal has since uploaded another video that proves that the person he spoke to was indeed James Alefantis. Whether or not Alefantis is innocent and a victim of a viral hoax campaign doesn’t matter he just committed another crime – threatening O’Neal with murder.

http://wearechange.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/Proof-That-Its-Alefantis-Facebook-Screen-capture.mp4

      The post James Alefantis Threatens PizzaGate Researcher Ryan A. O’Neal appeared first on We Are Change.

from We Are Change http://wearechange.org/james-alefantis-threatens-pizzagate-researcher-ryan-oneal/