#local dumpster receives love

[tgirlwithreverb]

I saw that post about what to do if you're homeless again (the one that starts by telling you to spend all of your money on motel rooms lmao) anyway, here's a few thoughts, specifically for trans girls, cuz I don't really care otherwise tbh:

1) plan ahead, most trans girls are in precarious housing situations, you will have a much easier time when it falls apart if you already have a pack with most of the gear you need in it. Also, if you find yourself in a situation where you cant make rent, dont pay part of it, spend that money on gear, pocket the rest and leave, youll have a much nicer time. Look up your local eviction laws, you have plenty of time. (Gear list at the end)

2) travel! If you're in Arizona in May, leave. it's about to be hot as hell. If you're in Michigan in October, leave. It's about to be cold as hell. If you're in a big city, leave. It's way easier to be homeless pretty much anywhere else. Amtrak is cheaper and more comfortable than greyhound, hitchhiking is free and easy, if you're alone it's not that much slower than the previous two, and it's more fun, and sometimes people buy you food or whatever or give you money. I promise it's not scary and you're entirely capable of doing it, no matter who you are. 95+% of people who will pick you up are very nice. All you have to do is take the bus out of town, as far down the highway you can, to an exit with a truck stop if possible, then just stand on the side of the road with your thumb out until someone picks you up. You can stand at the bottom of the ramp(on the highway) near where the merge lane ends or at the top of the ramp(where there's usually a traffic light), the former is more likely to lead to cop interactions but will maybe get you a ride faster, check on hitchwiki for how the cops are in the area. don't be afraid to take a commuter bus or Amtrak to get out of a shitty cop area

3) skip shelters if you can (they are very occasionally a decent place to get stuff from) and encampments, good places to sleep include the trees near railroad tracks or highways, wooded areas behind shopping centers, sections of parks without paths, overgrown empty lots. Hang a tarp above you if there's an appreciable chance of rain, there's tons of YouTube tutorials on how to do this, maybe I'll make a post about what I usually do some day. There are many habits more fun than motel rooms, save your money for them lmao.

4) get on food stamps. This is easier in some places than others, but it makes the whole thing a lot easier. Just tell them you're homeless, if they don't give you a card the same day, you can probably ask to pick it up from that office, alternatively some drop in centers/day shelters can receive mail for you, or you can have it sent to general delivery(USPS service, look it up)

7) libraries are great for charging your phone and using wifi, but also keep an eye out, plenty of random outlets on the outsides of buildings are also powered

5) dumpster. sidewalk trash cans, Aldi, Einstein's, trader Joe's, pizza places, etc. You need to develop a bit of a sense for it but it's an easy way to get cooked food or travelling food or expensive food without spending resources. Also it's fun.

6) water is free, go into the bathroom of any gas station or grocery store in America(offer not valid in most big cities or on the west coast, but in that case just go to the library) and fill up your water bottle

8) hygiene notes: truckers get free showers from chain truck stops(loves, pilot/flying j) go there and ask them. convenient if you're hitchhiking, also you don't need to shower 3 times a day, really, you'll survive. Ditto with deodorant. Take care of your teeth though. Take your socks off every. day. Change them consistently. Safety razors give a good shave, work well without adequate water pressure, and the replacement blades are very stealable, they're kind of heavy though. Walmart makes these electric razors for women that take AA batteries and are pretty light but give a worse shave, also they kinda go through batteries, pick whatever works for you(cartridge razors suck)

9) traveling food notes: peanut butter is great, tortillas and bagels travel pretty well, tuna packets are pretty good protein for traveling(the ones with rice and beans or whatever are nice since theyre often the same price as the regular), condiment packets are free, hot sauce makes everything better, and mayo goes well with tuna and has a bunch of calories in it, salad dressing packets are free from truck stops and work well turning the Walmart shredded vegetable packages (labeled for making into slaw, next to the bagged salads) into a salad with real vegetables(not iceberg lettuce) in it or mixing in with tuna packets for even more calories than mayo

Gear world:

Necessary items(in order of importance): a gallon of water carrying capacity(an Arizona jug or other twist top jug is conventional, but a bladder+arizona bottles also works), a tarp(larger than 6'x9', not brightly colored), a hank of parachord, a sleeping bag (20° rated, synthetic insulation), a backpack with a padded hip belt(at least 50L, no more than 75), rain gear(a rain poncho might cover your pack too, a rain jacket can help with wind when its cold, a trash bag inside or outside your pack can keep it dry, a plan to watch the weather and not get caught also works), a z-fold foam sleeping pad, three pairs of socks, two pairs of underwear (at least one pair of boxer breifs strongly recommended if you arent incredibly skinny), a decent pair of shoes with good arch support, a functional jacket(skip if you got a rain jacket before), a base layer(wool or poly, absolutely no cotton)

Convenient items: a sleeping bag liner(cotton free, keeps you warm in winter and cool in summer), gallon zip locks to pack your stuff in(helps keep it dry and organized), no more than one change of clothes(as light as possible), a multi-tool(can opener, pliers, wire cutter), lighter(burning rope ends etc), spoon, floss and needles for patching

[woman-in-gem]

Please stop commissioning new dolls.

I'm not saying this because I think everything shaped like a person is a person.

I'm not saying this out of any rejection for the practice itself, nor any disrespect for their artisans.

I'm not saying this because of horror stories. (Dolls are empty vessels in an ontological sense. If someone pours poison in a cup and drinks it, the last thing I'd blame is the cup.)

It's because you will find a dozen perfectly serviceable ones at the shelter and very very likely a couple others at a nearby church. That's to say nothing of craigslist.

You can even check your local dumpster in urban areas. They love these cramped enclosures — no exposed flesh for bugs to bite, no one accuses them of loitering, and someone comes at a scheduled time to bring them a deeper stillness. They can contort within a filth-packed bag to hide their shape, but the weight makes it obvious. You'll be lucky if you find one rather than two tangled up.

(You're not supposed to throw them out, by the way. I have no respect for people who expect their garbageman to deal with that. Sure yes, it's not going to hurt him. But would you shove a live deer in there? If yours is a one-of-a-kind, you should have planned a disposal process while creating it or otherwise received a manual.)

I understand that I'm describing a less creatively exciting process. You may have even spent a while thinking about how to specially design and train your precious little songbird. But if you were hiring a person, wouldn't you want them to have years of experience? Used is very often better.

It won't be a total blank slate for you to project on — but that just means you'll get to see unique emergent patterns. Remember that innocence isn't goodness, and purity definitely isn't.

You are an adult witch that lives on a finite planet, and that means we need to be sustainable. Centuries before the first human formalization of entropy it was written in the Poetry of Gales: "An object in stillness will decay to perfect stillness." But that law is only inescapably true in a vacuum, and Earth doesn't have to be a vacuum.

I promise that it's not beneath you. Take one such object in stillness, and be what stays its decay.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hello) Playing with a high elf noble Tav right now and just thought... Astarion and Tav with a Noble background headcanons?

Noble Tav is an interesting choice! I will stick to Noble Tav \ any race, but, if you want Noble High Elf Tav, let me know in the asks! There are a lot of things to write about Tav, who is an Elven royalty.

And I also found there is a sub type of Noble Background called Noble Knight. Basically a member of the nobility, who chose a life of adventures and helping the less fortunate, which I also can write, if you send me a request.

Astarion x Noble!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

You were born to luxury and power, being a member of an ancient house whose lineage can be traced back to the first centuries of the Dawn of Humanity.

Will you choose the life of power? Or would you prefer to thrive on your ancestor’s legacy by simply having fun?

Since childhood, you’ve learned a lot about the history, culture, and politics of Faeurn.

You are intelligent, well-behaved, and hungry for power.

That’s why your family chose you to be sent to Baldur’s Gate to establish connections with local lords.

Baldur’s Gate looks like a dumpster to you - too loud, too dirty, too vulgar.

You receive the message that your mother has gone, and you have to return home to rule your lands.

But you are kidnapped by Mindflayers.

There is a positive side to being spoilt-rich from birth.

It’s the desire to live.

Being confident in your skills and luck, you not only manage to escape the inevitable death, but also embrace your legacy as a powerful leader.

You are going to be in charge, kick everyone’s asses and no god will bestow their will upon you.

But there is also a lesson of injustice, unfamiliar to you.

Your vampire lover and his horrible past.

You don’t believe he was a bad person.

And even if he was, he didn’t deserve this cruelty.

Besides, you see through his lies. He tries to look like a nobleman to you, with his mannerisms and habits.

But you know they are as fake as theatre decorations.

If anything, Astarion looks like a former slave trying to blend with his former owners but remaining inferior to the people of power.

Using your skills for diplomacy, you make a lot of allies - and you also think that an army of 7000 spawns is a very good dowry

What if you need them in the future?

You win and accept the title of the Baldur’s Gate hero.

Once Astarion starts burning in the sunlight, he runs away from you and you are afraid he will never come back

He does. But he wants to say goodbyes.

“Darling, I appreciate everything you‘ve done for me. But your future is without me. You are an heir, a fucking nobility. What will your people think about me being a vampire? What will your family think? They will either kill me or kill us both. Live your life, I won’t forget you.”

Before you manage to object, he disappears in the shadows again and you return home brokenhearted.

You feel lonely in your palace and helpless with things you have to do.

Laws to introduce, alliances to make, and shit to deal with.

But one day you wake up, feeling that someone is in your room.

Before you snatch your dagger, a cold hand shuts your mouth.

Astarion sits on your bed, wearing a traveller hunter suit.

“I missed you, love” he whispers, pinning you to bed.

You yell at him. You curse. You are actually so loud you wake up the guardians but when they rush into the room they get an order to treat Astarion as your guest.

You are still angry and you need time.

Astarion has a proposition. “Let’s run away! There is a world to see together. I am free but there isn’t much worth from it if I can’t share it with anybody”

You refuse. You have duties and you won’t abandon them.

You ask him to stay. To rule with you as your “dark consort”.

Besides, it’s always better to have a vampire of your own than having to deal with a vampire you don’t know.

First of all, you forge Astarion a noble ancestry. Anyway, mostly all of the ancient elven families left for the Isle of Evermeet a century ago, and it’s always possible to pretend to be one of them.

Then, you make a good excuse for his nocturnal lifestyle.

A curse. As ancient as your own house. Can’t go into the sunlight, very believable.

But you also offer a reward to anyone who will be able to bring you either a Sunwalker Ring or the Cloak of Dragomir.

Astarion helps you deal with the most difficult legal mess left to you by your ancestors.

He knows about such things much more than your court.

Astarion is your consort, your advisor, your right hand. He rules from shadows, meanwhile you shine in the sunlight.

Astarion enjoys this life of luxury to the extreme.

The best fabric for his clothes, the softest bedlinen, adornments you could buy a village with.

He is also very good at managing the palace - especially the dungeons below it, which hold thousands of secrets.

And Astarion often calls himself “your trophy husband”.

Well, he is. As the Baldur’s Gate savior, you returned empty-handed.

A beautiful prince is the least you could claim!

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui

[forhappysake]

What Lurks Within, Pt. 1

Author's Note: I've never written one of these before, so I hope anyone who reads it can enjoy it.

Content: When the BAU is forced to consult on a case from a distance, the team finds themselves getting frustrated with the lack of communication from local law enforcement. After the unsub escalates, the team prepares to fly to Denver to tackle the case head-on.

Warnings: Typical BAU-level violence, hom!c!de, workplace harassment training (does that need a warning, lol?), mention of prison and Cat Adams, established relationship, all fluffy stuff for now

Consulting on cases from afar was never the BAU’s strong suit. Relying on information provided by local law enforcement, rather than being hands-on at the scene, was a major inconvenience. However, a schedule mix-up over annual training and filing reports required our presence here, in D.C., rather than in Denver. 

Matt and Luke had spent the afternoon pouring over files that arrived from the Denver office while Spencer and I were forced to sit through our annual workplace training. We were the last members of the team to partake in the training, and we weren’t any more excited than the rest of the team had been. We arrived around two o’clock, taking our seats next to each other. Then began the droning voice of the poor HR worker who was forced to reiterate the FBI’s spiel on workplace harassment and discrimination for the seven-hundredth time today. 

I knew my boyfriend, so I knew Spencer wasn’t paying any attention. Both our minds were on the Denver case. Seven men with similar physical descriptions had gone missing over a span of three months. Their bodies, found discarded in local parks, had been bludgeoned beyond recognition. 

It was difficult, of course, to understand what was happening when conflicting reports kept coming in from local law enforcement. Penelope was doing her best to work with their in-house tech teams to confirm or deny reports we received from the local police chief, but it was hard when they rarely answered her requests for more information. Between the lack of communication and the fact that this unsub did not seem to have any plans of slowing down, having to work this case in-house was really taking its toll on office morale. 

Thankfully, the HR meeting only lasted an hour. Spencer and I received our lovely “congrats on completing this training” certificate to put in our files, and we quickly hurried out of the meeting room and back to the bullpen. Matt and Luke sat at their desks, hunkered over files. Luke was the first to notice our entrance into the room, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“I don’t understand how I am supposed to build a geographical profile when I have two separate conflicting reports of where the body was found for the same murder,” Luke said. He rose from his desk and rubbed his eyes, “It’s like Denver doesn’t want us to help them.”

Matt looked up from his desk, nodding in agreement. Noticing our presence in the room, he leaned back in his chair. “Thankfully Garcia is doing a hell of a job with victimology, but you two have your work cut out for you unless you get some confirmation on the accuracy of these reports.” He gestured to the files in front of him, “It’s an absolute disaster.”

Luke nodded fiercely in agreement, grasping the file in his hand with frustration. “Reid, just come look at this and tell me if I’m missing something here,” Luke held the file out in front of him. Spencer walked over to Luke, taking the file from him and thumbing through the pages. 

Spencer cleared his throat, eyebrows knitting together, “This page says that Daniel Jones was found dead in a small park behind a swing set, but this page says he was found bound and gagged behind a dumpster at a local coffee shop in Denver.”

Luke flung his arms out in front of him, letting out an exasperated huff. “Exactly! What am I supposed to do with that?” Luke looked utterly defeated, and the look on Matt’s face told me he wasn’t doing any better. 

Trying to take some control of the situation unraveling in front of me, I offered a solution. “Matt, Luke. Why don’t you guys go home for a bit? You’ve been here since four in the morning, and it’s nearly three. Wash up, take a nap, and come back with fresh eyes.” I said it gently, hoping not to offend either of them. 

Matt nodded in response, “I think Y/N has a point, Luke. We could both use a break.” Matt stood up from his desk chair, stretching before turning towards the door. “I don’t know about you, but I’m out of here,” he stated as he turned and headed for the elevator. 

Luke gritted his teeth. “Alright, I guess I could use a break. But I’ll be back, and I swear that if Denver hasn’t given us something we can work with, I’ll-”

“Luke,” Spencer said, cutting him off, “Y/N is right. We’ll hold down the fort here. Just go home for a while.” Defeated, Luke lifted his coat off the back of his chair, tugging it over his shoulders. 

“I hope you guys find something you can work with,” Luke mumbled, “Thanks for taking over, I’ll be back in a few hours.” With that, he followed Matt out of the bullpen in the direction of the elevators, leaving Spencer and I alone. 

I sighed, knowing we had our work cut out for us. Spencer continued thumbing through the file Luke had handed him. He spoke up again, “Which would you prefer, honey,” Spencer gestured to the file in his hand and the file left open on Matt’s desk, “victimology, geographical profile, or trying to contact Denver?”

“Considering everyone else has been trying to get a hold of Denver all day, I’ll take a look at what Matt and Penelope put together on victimology,” I said with a small smile, “You’re better at the geo-profiles anyway.” I lifted the file off Matt’s desk as Spencer nodded, walking over to his desk and taking a seat.  

For hours we poured over the mess of information we’d been provided. Matt was right, Penelope had done a heck of a job piecing together victimology. However, it wasn’t enough to make an educated guess on anything about the psychology of our unsub. Three o’clock quickly turned into ten o’clock, and I could feel my stomach growl. I looked over at Spencer’s desk, and even he looked like he could use something to eat. 

“Hey, Spence,” I said, “have you made any progress over there?” He shifted in his seat, shutting the file and looking up at me. 

“No, not really,” he sighed. “Luke was right. These reports are a mess.” I nodded in agreement and understanding, swiveling in my chair to face away from him. Staring down the hallway, the light from the vending machine caught my eye. 

“Considering neither of us are making any groundbreaking discoveries, I’m gonna run to the vending machine. Do you want anything?” I swiveled my chair back around in his direction, awaiting his reply.

He looked up for a moment, seeming to give it some thought before shaking his head. “No thanks, Y/N. I really appreciate the offer, though.” He gave me a small nod. 

“No problem, brainiac. I’ll be back in a few.” I turned on my heel and made my way out of the bullpen, pausing to look out the window next to the elevator. It was dark out and I wanted nothing more than to go home and wrap myself in a blanket, sinking into bed. “Too bad people decide to commit murder,” I thought out loud. 

Continuing down the hallway to the vending machine, I reached in my pocket to pull out a couple dollars. Popping the bills into the machine and deciding on some off-brand bag of chips, I claimed my purchase from the machine and made my way back to the bullpen. Upon my arrival, I noticed Spencer wasn’t at his desk. I looked around for a moment, curious as to where he had gone, when I saw his mop of curls through the blinds to the briefing room. 

Quietly making my way up the staircase, I approached the door and gently pushed it open. The boy-genius must have had some breakthrough, as he scribbled quickly on the white board, turning back to the meeting table to check one of the files he had brought up to the room with him. Suddenly, a mixed look of frustration and disappointment crossed his face and he sighed in defeat. Whatever lead he thought he had must have been unfruitful, and he wore a somber look as he thumbed through the files once more.

I remembered at that moment why I loved him so much. I stood in awe of the way his curls gently fell over his eyes, the way the veins in his hands became more pronounced when he examined the case file. His eyes, dark as they were, shone a deep brown color in the warm light of the room. I watched as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, dragging a hand through his hair. We were tired, exhausted, and the case showed no signs of coming to a close anytime soon.  

“Spencer,” I said, approaching him quietly, not wishing to disturb his work. He let out a long sigh, looking away from the file. I could almost see the gears stop shifting in his mind, as his thoughts grew smaller in his mind. The dark circles under his eyes were evident. I offered him a small smile, reaching for the case file in front of him, and gently closing it, slipping it under my arm. “All of this will still be here tomorrow, I think we should go home and rest.”

His lips pursed in evident disappointment, turning back to the whiteboard. I tried to make out his scribbles and notes, but his handwriting was so sloppy it was hardly legible. He turned back, resembling Luke’s defeat from hours before. Finally, he nodded in agreement. Standing up straight, he turned his head in circles, attempting to work out the soreness he felt after scanning files for hours. “We’re so close, Y/N, I can feel it,” he murmured as he turned to look at me, “so, so close.” 

Our eyes locked for a moment before I turned my gaze to the ground in front of me. “I know, Spence. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do until the police in Denver get back to us with more information tomorrow.” I leaned back on the meeting room table, crossing my arms in front of me. 

“I know,” he said. He shuffled so he stood in front of me, running his hands up and down my crossed arms. “Should we go home?” Spencer asked, tilting his head and offering me a small smile. 

“We should absolutely go home,” I murmured, leaning into his touch. He wrapped his arms around me, and I could smell his cologne mixed with a hint of coffee. I tucked my head under his chin, accepting this rare act of PDA as a result of our shared exhaustion. I felt his hands rubbing over my aching back, and I couldn’t have been more grateful for his presence. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asked gently. I could feel his voice rattle through his chest, the vibration so soothing. 

“No,” I giggled, “I think we should just stay like this forever.” I pulled back from him a bit so that I could examine his face. His stubble had grown in and stayed since his return from prison, and his eyes looked even more exhausted than usual, but he was still the same Spencer he’d always been. 

I reflected briefly on our relationship. Though we’d only been dating for a year, I felt like I’d been with Spencer my entire life. Of course his stint in prison, his meeting with Cat Adams, and the team’s battle with Scratch had left emotional and physical scars on all of us, Spencer’s sweet demeanor remained unchanged. I admired his resilience, and his ability to see the good in others. 

He brought me back to reality as he smiled again, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on my lips which I accepted with more fervor than he had anticipated. He rocked back away from me for a moment, raising his eyebrows. “Where did that boost of energy come from?” he asked, placing his hands on either side of my face. 

“I don’t know, I was just looking at how pretty you are,” I said, bringing my hands to cover his. He looked at me for a moment, cocking his head to the side. 

“You’re very pretty too, Miss L/N,” he said, forcing himself to pull his hands from my face and shove them into his pockets. He cleared his throat, trying to refocus on the topic at hand. “Now,” he started, “how about we both head back to my place and settle in for the evening? I’m no chef, but you and I both know I can order take-out like no other.” He scanned my face for a response. 

“Sure, Spence. That sounds delightful,” I said while looping my arm in his. 

“Off we go, then.” Arm in arm, Spencer and I walked to the elevator. No further words were exchanged, and we stood in comfortable silence as I clicked the button and awaited the arrival of the elevator. 

The ding of the elevator signaled its arrival. Spencer moved forward, preparing to step on, when Luke came barreling off. He’d clearly showered, though he didn’t look much more well-rested. 

“You two aren’t going to believe this,” his serious tone catching both Spencer and myself off guard. He didn’t stop to address us, either, making fast strides towards the bullpen. 

“What is it, Luke?” I asked, turning to follow him as Spencer followed in suit. “Tell us what’s going on.” As we reentered the bullpen, Luke scanned our desktops. Eyes settling on Matt’s desk, he reached for the TV remote, scanning stations until it came to the national news. Cranking up the television volume, Spencer and I listened intently to what the reporter was saying:

“In Denver, Colorado, the bodies of three more young men have been discovered dumped in neighborhood parks across the city within the past week. Officials are warning residents to avoid these areas and to remain vigilant…”

“This guy is all over the place,” Luke said, shaking his head. 

“At least this confirms he’s dumping the bodies in parks,” I shrugged. If the local police department wasn’t going to give us information, the media outlets would provide plenty. 

“He’s escalating,” Spencer said, eyes narrowing at the screen. “Three within the past week is a significant increase from seven over a twelve week period.” Luke and I nodded in agreement. 

“I’ll call Garcia and Prentiss,” Luke said, “maybe now that those god-awful trainings are over, we can finally fly out of here and get our hands on this case.” I responded in agreement as Spencer continued examining the news report. Luke reached for his phone, dialing some numbers before stepping away from Spencer and I, “Hey, Emily. It’s Alvez. I think we need to get to Denver right away…” His voice faded out as he walked farther away from us. 

Spencer’s attention turned from the screen back to me. “So much for takeout,” he said with a sad smile. I put an arm around him, gently rubbing his back. 

“We should’ve known it was too good to be true. Maybe we can get some snacks on the jet. Until then,” I gestured up to the unopened bag of chips I’d discarded on the table of the briefing room, “I’m going to go finish my dinner.” 

Just as I started to walk away, I heard Luke’s voice call out, “Wheels up in 30. The rest of the team will meet us on the tarmac.” I sighed, turning back to look at Spencer who was already shoving files and notepads into his go-bag. I hurriedly grabbed my chips off the table and returned to the bullpen, mirroring Spencer’s frenzied packing. 

After I finished collecting my things, Luke led Spencer and I down to the tarmac. JJ, Matt, Emily, and Rossi soon arrived as well. Spencer’s hand on my lower back guided me up the steps of the jet. Flying had never been my favorite thing. Since joining the team a year and a half ago, I’d only started to get used to it. Spencer, per usual, had been my saving grace, offering me comfort and a hand to hold during the flights. This evening would be no different. 

Settling in our usual seats, Emily offered us each files full of what little information had been confirmed by local law enforcement and media outlets. She drew our attention to the files, gesturing to the one in her hand. “I know we don’t have a lot to go on. I have a feeling we’re going to have our work cut out for us on this one,” she said with a small nod. “I’d recommend you all try to take it easy on this flight, we’re going to be hard at work once we get to Denver.”

As we each nodded in agreement, I felt Spencer’s hand squeeze mine a little tighter. I gently laid my head on his shoulder, trying to take Emily’s advice. “Let’s rest, Spencer. Emily’s right, we’re not gonna do anyone good if we’re exhausted.” I felt his sigh of agreement as he rested his head back against the seat, closing his eyes. I followed suit, allowing sleep to take over. 

Our ignorance, at that moment, was blissful. We had no idea what waited for us in Denver.

TO BE CONTINUED

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Let me know what you think down below. Happy writing!

[reasoningdaily]

The District attorney dropped the charges due to an investigation into text messages of the police department…the DA felt that the officers who burned her body were targeted in the investigation despite the fact they were caught on video setting her afire.

The men were captured on security cameras borrowing a dolly from a 7-Eleven and pushing the dumpster four blocks to a paved trail, where witnesses from a nearby homeless encampment saw them allegedly pour lighter fluid into the dumpster and set Sharlman's body on fire, Eason said. Roughly a week later, after Sharlman's family reported the 25-year-old as missing, Eason said authorities confirmed her death.

The sister of a woman whose torched body was discovered in a dumpster last year slammed Northern California prosecutors after they dropped charges against two men accused in her death, citing the case’s link to racist and derogatory text messages that have shaken a local police department.

Nicole Eason told NBC News that the messages — which were released earlier this year after a joint investigation into the Antioch Police Department by the FBI and the Contra Costa District Attorney’s Office — should have had no effect on the prosecution of Ashton Montalvo and Deangelo Boone.

Eason called the decision to drop the charges “unacceptable” and said that prosecutors should “recant and scrutinize" evidence that she described as insurmountable, including security video and eyewitness testimony.

“We’re getting ready to lawyer up” Eason said. “We’re getting ready to fight.”

A spokesman for the Contra Costa District Attorney’s Office declined to comment. In a statement Wednesday, the prosecutor’s office "extended its deepest sympathies" to Sharlman's family and said it would seek to renew the prosecution if possible.

The spokesman, Ted Asregadoo, said in an earlier email that prosecutors are "hopeful APD can pursue other investigative avenues and bring our office more evidence to review for a charging decision."

The statement said the prosecutor's office dropped the charges because the case relied heavily on the investigative work of officers associated with the text messages.

"After thoroughly reviewing the officers’ role in this case, applying relevant legal principles, and considering ethical responsibilities, the Contra Costa District Attorney’s Office no longer has confidence in the integrity of this prosecution," the statement said.

The officers were not identified, and it isn't clear which messages they sent or received.

An Antioch Police Department spokeswoman did not respond to a request for comment, nor did a lawyer for the local police union.Homophobic slurs, racist images

The messages, from 2020 and 2021, were sent and received by dozens of officers and include homophobic slurs, racist images and the casual discussion of using “less lethal” weapons on people, including the city’s mayor, who is Black, according to an investigative report compiled by the Contra Costa District Attorney's Office.

California's Attorney General opened an investigation last month to determine if the police department engaged in a pattern and practice of unconstitutional policing.

Asregadoo said Wednesday's announcement marked the first time the prosecutor's office has dropped a felony case linked to the messages.Overdose death

Eason described her younger sister as the "life of the party" — someone who loved praise dancing at church and dreamed of opening a salon. She fell in with friends who were into drugs and began experimenting, Eason said.

The medical examiner determined that Sharlman died of a fentanyl overdose, said Eason, noting that her family had attended all of the court dates in her sister's death, including the preliminary hearing, where a judge determines if prosecutors have sufficient evidence to make a defendant stand trial.

Eason said that during court testimony Montalvo and Boone were accused of dumping her sister's body in a dumpster they grabbed from a nearby building after she overdose at an abandoned apartment in Antioch, a city of roughly 114,000 northeast of San Francisco.

The men were captured on security cameras borrowing a dolly from a 7-Eleven and pushing the dumpster four blocks to a paved trail, where witnesses from a nearby homeless encampment saw them allegedly pour lighter fluid into the dumpster and set Sharlman's body on fire, Eason said.

Roughly a week later, after Sharlman's family reported the 25-year-old as missing, Eason said authorities confirmed her death. Eason compared the events to labor pains.

"I didn't have the joy of getting the baby out," she said. "We got death instead."

Lawyers for Montalvo and Boone did not respond to requests for comment.

The family found some solace in learning of Sharlman's cause of death, Eason said. She died before her body was torched, Eason said. The family was further heartened by the department's handling of the case, which Eason described as "nothing short of amazing," and by the arrests that followed.

"For us to have suspects in custody was exceptional," she said. "It was a win, and it doesn't always happen like that. Although they're under scrutiny now, they did their due diligence before they detained these two men."

Eason added that her family was "devastated" to learn that a detective involved in the case was linked to the text messages.

"However, this scandal came out after my sister's death," Eason said. "It shouldn't have had any bearing on the evidence."

Tim Stelloh

Tim Stelloh is a breaking news reporter for NBC News Digital.

[xxiamtiebrousxx]

This might be kind of an interesting request! :D

I’d like Scout and some fav merc/s of yours with a s/o that was born in other country than US and raised on another language than English, however, due to having relatives in Florida, they may have southern accent a little bit! :D basically kind of Floridian s/o if that counts ~

Sorry it took so long!

Certain! Mercs x Flordian(ish) Reader

Scout:

You were raised in France and spent most of your life there. Your parents moved there for your father’s job. Growing up in Paris was fun and exciting. You got to experience many things. You didn’t want to leave until you were forced to. For a while in your teen years, you lived with some relatives in Florida. You received education from them and got to visit Disney World every weekend. Living in America was fun, but you missed your home. Shortly after graduation, you returned to Paris and tried to finish college. You figured out you didn’t want to waste four years or more just studying a major you’d probably drop. So you packed your things and moved back to the United States, sending in your resume to Team Fortress Industries. You were hired as a mercenary and stationed in New Mexico shortly after arriving.

You and Scout immediately hit it off. You had a lot of things in common, like loving Tom Jones and his music. A few weeks into dating, you realized you had not taken Scout out. The two of you mostly had your time together fighting in the battlefield. For your first date outside of the base, you bought tickets to see Tom Jones, who was touring the state. Unfortunately, you bought the cheapest tickets for seats in the nosebleed. Somehow he managed to get backstage access without purchasing the VIP Backstage pass. You had to drag some security guards behind a dumpster. Luckily, you did not get in trouble. Scout was able to safely meet his hero. After that, it was safe to say that you began to take Scout out more often. And he enjoyed it.

One of the many things Scout loved about you was the slight southern accent you developed while living in Florida. He didn’t want to say anything of course. Scout thought your accent made you cute. He knew it wasn’t common for you to take a compliment and you especially didn’t like it when someone calls you cute. He kept it to himself, muttering it under his breath when you did something that amazed him. Somehow, word got out he called you cute. Maybe it was because Pyro overheard Scout rambling about you, how he loved you and all that. Then Pyro mumbled it to Engineer, who told Demoman, who told Spy, who told Sniper, then he told Heavy who told Medic. It went all around. You eventually got word of the rumor that spread like a wildfire. Scout was terrified. He feared you would enter his room, enraged and ready to wipe the floor with his beat-up bum. You calmly entered his room to find Scout was shaking under his bed. You confronted him and you were actually kind about the situation. You told him you did not mind if he called you cute or even thought it. As long as he didn’t tell anyone, Scout would be fine. After everything was cleared up, you took your loving boyfriend to Florida to visit Universal Studios and Disney World.

Demoman:

Rome, also known as “The Eternal City,” was your home for as long as you could remember. You grew up surrounded by ancient architecture left behind by the Romans. Your mom ran a small cafe near the Colosseum to accommodate travelers and the locals. It was small but the cafe made enough to help your family get by. Your mother wanted the best things for you, especially when it came to your education. She knew that her cafe alone wouldn’t be able to help pay for your education. At age seventeen, your mother shipped you off to live with some relatives in Florida. Education really wasn’t your thing. Yes, you liked to learn, but not inside of a classroom. You were an explorer. You lived to go out and discover new things! You explored every inch of the Americas, both North and South. Then you visited Asia. For the next five years of your life, you spent every day researching anything you could research. You traveled from ruins to small villages in a matter of five years. This job was dangerous of course. There were a few times where you dangled off the edge of a cliff and almost died. Your doctor put you on orders to rest for a while before attempting to return to the field. This greatly saddened you. You were stuck alone in your room for days. A few days after your doctor’s appointment, you received a notice from a company. Team Fortress Industries was in need of someone who could brave the dangers. What your doctor didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.

What you signed up for had nothing to do with exploring or archeology. It was about revenge. You were partnered up with a man, who was called Demoman. It was his job. He knew how to create and handle explosions. He was the one who sent out the notice. None of his teammates wanted to take the journey with him to return to his homeland and defeat the Loch Ness monster. You later considered it the greatest adventure you ever took. You didn’t know how it happened, but somehow, you fell in love with Demoman. He showed bravery and strength when wrangling the Loch Ness monster. Nessie didn’t show a chance against his explosives. You had watched from the boat as the lake roared with excitement. Waves splashed everywhere. Your voice, with a small southern accent you picked up in Florida, managed to break through the explosions and splashing, cheering Demoman on. Your words of encouragement reached his ears. He smiled, closing his one eye and managed to bring down the tired Nessie. As a prize, Demoman took a photo with you, standing in front of the defeated monster. He allowed the beautiful creature to live on and to tell the story of the Demoman who defeated her.

On the way back home, you opened up to Demoman about your past. He did so as well, creating a bond with you. A plan was provided by Team Fortress Industries, piloted by a shady remote-controlled animatronic you did not trust. Demoman became quite intrigued by your profession. He requested some time off from work. It meant that the Administrator would dock money off his paycheck, but he didn’t mind. You showed him ruins and hidden tombs no one had yet to discover. Your doctor never found out you took Demoman to Mount Everest and climbed it with him, almost dying in the process. You both made it back safe and sound. Demoman began to take days off more often just to visit you.

Spy:

Mexico City was your home, your birthplace. You grew up around beautiful architecture and an amazing culture. Unfortunately, in 1985, a massive earthquake struck Mexico City and forced your family to flee the disaster. You found refuge in Florida with your family that had been living there already. Florida was slightly different from Mexico but you got used to it very quickly. The humidity reminded you of your old home. You were raised with the familiarity of the Everglades and Disney World. You missed your old home but Florida was now your new home, which you accepted. It wasn’t easy, but you quickly learned and adapted to your new environment. You were successful in school and loved by all. 

After graduating from Florida State University, you decided to take up a job in New Mexico as a secretary for Team Fortress Industries. It got tiresome working behind a desk. Papers came in, papers came out. It never ended. The workload was killing you. You needed fresh air. You applied for a station at one of the mercenary bases. Instead of overseeing the work that took place at the base, you were instead relocated to be the personal assistant of one of the team members. Spy had requested an assistant to keep track of his paperwork. The Administrator picked him to do side jobs Pauling was unable to do. He was not expecting you to appear. He was expecting a dislikable person, someone he could kill with ease and without remorse if something were to go wrong. With your likable personality, Spy found it hard to try and kill you. You had seen things that he wished to keep secret. There were many times when it was easy to push you into the river or shoot you, but Spy couldn’t. Your smile, your personality, the way you made him laugh. Oh it was hard. He actually found himself falling for you.

The first date wasn’t a fancy romantic dinner or a day at the beach. Instead, it was a mission to uncover missing crates stolen by an enemy company. After he disposed of the bodies, Spy attempted to make this mission a date. He set up everything from the candles to the seats. There wasn’t any food to serve and the crates served as a terrible table. Spy had only packed cigarettes and wine. The candles came from the crates. Spy was his charming self: Romantic and suave. It was a bit strange. You assumed he was going to poison the wine and bury your body among the other victims stashed behind the other crates. Spy was trying to be nice, you understood that. He revealed that he was trying to get closer to you, be more than just co-workers. He was fine if you friendzoned him, which you did, since Spy never talked about anything. You did. He let you ramble on missions about your life, your current mood, or about what happened that day. Spy tried to be more talkative and friendly. It took a while, but you finally unfriendzoned Spy when a mission took you back to your home in Florida.

[thecriticalking]

Finally decided to get started on writing down my characters here, so here's the first one.

Maito Kerma

They/Them

(Art by my friend scarakuku on Discord)

A young adult already worn down enough to have stopped caring about personal self improvement. They are in their early 20's (usually 21 in most versions I write) and they are a general oc. I usually put them in whatever universe I'm currently interested in. Turns out they fit really well into Project Moon!

Now for their actual story.

Maito's childhood wasn't anything of note. Their family was in the upper middle class range meaning that the only child of this little family would be spoiled by the loving care of their two parents. Unfortunately, this nice upbringing would get ruined when a local gang noticed the family's wealth. And they figured the easiest way to gain some of it was through Maito.

One day, when Maito was walking home from school, they came across a girl. She was just a few years younger than them, and she seemed to be crying. Curious, they asked what was wrong. She wordlessly pointed into the nearby alleyway, still sobbing. Maybe she dropped a toy into a dumpster and couldn't reach far enough to get it? Maito, wanting to help, entered the alleyway to investigate. They wouldn't come out.

Days pass, and police have barely made any progress. "Maybe your child got lost somewhere along the way?" The officers said. But a 12 year old kid can't get far in a couple hours. Everyone knew that. So the search continued.

Meanwhile, a terrified child sits in the corner of a dark room. They hear mutterings from outside the door. Mentions of sending the demand to their parents. But another voice sticks out to their ears. It was similar to the voice of the girl they saw crying. Was it their mind playing tricks on them?

Days pass. Maito's parents receive the demands. The investigation intensifies, yet continues to barely make any progress. Maito, alone in that dark room, figures help isn't coming anytime soon. And so, they look around for a way out.

Looking around the room, the only thing that really stands out to them is a large metal pipe. It's large, but heavy. Only a single gang member comes down to check on them every few hours. They haven't heard any voices outside the door ever since a couple days ago. Maito figured that the others don't stay in this building, and as such, wouldn't come checking for a missing member of theirs anytime soon.

A 12 year old was weak. But smashing the head of an adult with a heavy metallic object is bound to do some damage. So, they waited. They weren't sure for how long, but they waited. Until they finally heard approaching footsteps outside the door. They prepared themselves, waiting for the gang member to fully enter the room.

Maito can still remember the sound that man made when the heavy pipe slammed into the back of his head. They didn't stop to see if he was fully unconscious before immediately sprinting out the unlocked door. They ran until their legs burned, then kept running.

They were found hours later, miraculously unharmed. Physically, at least. Of course, no child would ever make it out of that situation without severe trauma. Maito was unfortunately no exception.

Thanks to their recollection of what happened, the gang was quickly found and arrested. This didn't stop Maito from living out the rest of their school days in fear. Secluded from everyone else. The innocent child, gone.

Their parents got them the best therapy money could buy, and it seemed to work. As best as it could, anyway. There's some things you can't ever completely move past from. Maito never really returned to the outgoing personality they had when they were younger. Instead, that was replaced with a tired demeanor. They became more quiet, and kept to themselves. Their motivation to succeed in class was replaced with just being good enough. Despite that, nobody really blamed them, not once they learned what happened.

Maito wanted to put that event past them. They didn't want to keep getting reminded of it. Of course, this desire didn't stop the constant sympathy from family and friends. "Sorry that happened to you." They had heard that phrase so many times that they grew sick of hearing it.

So one day, they moved away from home. Far enough away so that event was nothing more than a news story people read online one day then quickly forgot about. And there, they somewhat found peace. Though, with their lackluster grades in school, and no college diploma to speak of, the only job they could find was a Janitor position at a large company office.

The job sucks. The pay is meager. And people are dirty. Maito complains frequently about it. But there's no better viable alternatives, so there's not much they can do about it. Nothing that requires no effort on self improvement, at least. Maybe one day they'll find that motivation. To become better. But that day is not coming by anytime soon.

[truecrimecrystals]

Ieasha Abrams' life was headed in a positive direction during the fall of 2017. After years of struggling with drugs and occasional run-ins with the law, the 34-year-old woman seemed to be in a much better place. Ieasha had a steady job at a restaurant, and she also had recently leased an apartment off of Beacon Parkway East in Birmingham, Alabama. According to family members, Ieasha was the happiest she had been in a long time. This made her disappearance in late September 2017 all the more confusing and shocking.

Due to Ieasha's previous struggles, her three children were being cared for by her relatives. However, prior to her disappearance, she often spent time with them and her other family members. According to reports, Ieasha was last seen by her loved ones on September 25th, 2017. After that, nobody in her family saw or heard from her again.

Days later, on October 4th, 2017, local Crime Stoppers received a call about a body in a wooded area behind Abrams' apartment building. K-9s were brought to the scene, and a body of a deceased female was found behind a dumpster. Shortly thereafter, the body was identified as that of Ieasha Abrams. 

Ieasha's manner of death was initially unclassified for over a month. Then, the coroner finally labeled her death as a homicide. The coroner's findings determined that Ieasha "had been assaulted in a manner that could not have resulted in a death by natural causes." Police have still not disclosed the exact cause of death, but it's clear that Ieasha's life was brutally taken.

Years have passed, and Ieasha's murder still remains unsolved. In February 2018, it was reported that detectives were "close to cracking the case", but they have still yet to make an arrest. Ieasha's loved ones are still hoping to find justice. If you have any information that could lead to the arrest of her killer(s), please contact detectives at (205) 254-1764.

[potsmart]

Blue Dream –  Modern Classic or Overhyped?

If you were a smoker between 2005 and 2016, you definitely remember a lot of Blue Dream on the menus of your local dispensary or in the bag of your favourite plug. Coming out of the Santa Cruz medical scene in the early 2000’s Blue Dream became so popular it was almost a joke amongst heads. In fact, the good name of Blue Dream by the late 2000’s had already become a punchline, much like “White Runts,” “Purple Punch” or other hype boy strains more recently.

The sativa dominant flower that tastes of berries and other more complex notes is still shrouded in mystery despite the popularity it enjoys. Adding to the confusion is the fact that the cannabis industry as a whole is notorious for repackaging flower that’s not selling well under a more popular strain name to move units. This common practice means that perhaps most bags of Blue Dream are in fact, something else all together. This practice of re-branding losers into winners often helps tarnish the good name of strains that are popular for a reason.

What makes real Blue Dream in particular even more rare is that it is a clone only strain. That means, the true cut of blue dream is genetically identical to the first plant. If you find yourself shopping for blue dream seeds, recognize that what you’re purchasing is either a “selfed” Blue Dream clone (a process where plants are forced into hermaphroditism to seed itself, i.e. inbreeding), an approximation of genetics that a breeder thought Blue Dream incorporated or a complete lie to sell other seeds that weren’t as popular.

The fact that it is a clone only strain is probably the only reason we know the region it came from. The cannabis industry can be so shady that lesser growers and breeders are constantly trying to take responsibility for work that isn’t even their own. There are famous strains that have been dug out of dumpsters of competitors, renamed and sold at top dollar. The industry is cut throat and the plants are secondary to the profits often. But because this plant had to be shared person to person, we have at least a trail of evidence of where it came from.

It’s crazy to think that a varietal like Blue Dream can be bred in Northern California and within a few years time become a household name like “Bubba Kush” or “Northern Lights” in a matter of years. So the haters must be wrong right? They must be only smoking fake Blue Dream right? To be fair, with the amount of fake Blue Dream on the market, maybe they are. And, of course the haters are wrong. Real Blue Dream grown correctly with love is a phenomenal strain. There is a reason classics are classics and it’s usually because it’s been a proven winner over an extended period. Blue Dream is no different.

So how do you know if you get the real Blue Dream. Listen, you don’t. Let’s be real. Unless you can go back to 2003 and buy an ounce from the first few dispos in Santa Cruz that were selling the cut, the rest is lore and hopefully you get the real thing. As a smoker during that time, I remember getting many, many different looking bags of “Blue Dream,” but sometimes I got what I believe was the real deal. This opinion is based off the consistency of the “good” bags versus the inconsistency of the other so-called “Blue Dreams” I received.

What I believed to be the real Blue Dream was a light green coloured bud with small orange hairs. Cured correctly, the smell was potent, but not insanely so. It smelled just like blueberries, like marijuana blueberries. The effects were on the strong side of mild if that makes any sense. It wasn’t the hardest hitting bag, but it wasn’t disappointing. Usually I would feel uplifted and sociable.

The best bag I ever received was gifted to me in Oklahoma, an ounce of beautiful, sticky pale green buds in a ziplock bag. Some of the worst I’ve gotten was purchased in Southern California at a dispensary, so really you can’t judge the authenticity by the point of purchase even. Perhaps the only way to find the elusive strain is to try a lot of “Blue Dreams” until you find a consistent set of traits within a few different growers. Even then you only really know that all those growers are growing the same cut of something named “Blue Dream” but if the look, smell and effect all line up it’s a decent bet you’ve got the genuine article. After all, as a clone only strain, they should all be fairly homogenous. The only variations would be in growing and curing, which to be fair can make something dank into something terrible.

All that said, this here looks like some Blue Dream. There’s only one way to find out I guess.

By the Potmaster General, for Potsmart

[crones-trash]

GREAT NEWS: The second plumber offered a quote of $6800, less than half of the first quote, which he declared, "Ridiculous! They're trying to take advantage of you!" No shit. I guess they figured if I was fool enough to buy this house, I would be a fool for them, too.

Also, the new plumber offers regular service for the HVAC & any new plumbing problems that may arise for only $19/mo. I accepted it because even w/ that extra $288 per year for continuing service, they still won the bidding. Now I'm waiting for their office to call me with a start date & approximate date for having water again!

Also, the restoration service is supposed to call me later this afternoon w/ a status report on when they can replace the subfloor in the master bath. The plumber made it clear their heating/drying equipment needs to be out of the way to allow the new pipe installation. Then restoration can return to install new insulation & the belly wrap.

In other news: Yesterday, my phone went nuts: wouldn't let me receive or make calls. I looked up the nearest US Cellular store & found out its 45 minutes away (at the very least) over recently snowed-upon mountains.

Full stop on the story to insert: It is glorious to be driving along & see snow on the tops of not very distant mountains. I LOVE IT! Also, the rain in the valley is good for getting compliments on my raincoat. Seriously, 3 women in the last 2 days have gushed, "I love your coat!"

Back to the story: I found a T-Mobile store only a mile from home & made a visit then needed to come back home to spend 2 hours getting thru to US Cellular for the info needed to transfer my service. Despite the aggravation, the good news is I now have a new local service provider, US Cellular owes me $110, my phone works fine, & the kids in the store will help me when my iPhone makes me feel like an idiot, which is all too often.

I've made progress w/ unpacking & sorting the mountain of boxes in my kitchen. Now they've gone out the door into the back of my RAV for a short trip to the community dumpster. I can actually vacuum my main living area & mop w/ a Swiffer wood floor pad to catch all the random dust that's everywhere. Never thought I'd be so happy to vacuum! lol

[newwavenosferatu]

|Confirming Obfuscator VPN...|

|Obfuscator Confirmed. Do Not Disable|

Another night, another catastrophe narrowly avoided. I had caught wind of a collection of rare Kindred texts being held somewhere in the city. I teamed up with MM, a Malkavian who specializes in Kindred on Kindred combat.

After some snooping about, we heard there's an abandoned church near Greenwood that some licks have made their haven, and word on the street is they either have the texts, or know who does. Unfortunately, they had a ghoul guard that my companion recklessly rushed at, exposing our position and taking fire. She was now pinned behind a dumpster, trading silenced shots with this poor guy. I say that because he wasn't a match for both of us, and we ended up killing him. Again, not something I love doing, but with these texts maybe Signe will respect me again, maybe I can get one tiny bit of acknowledgement. Anyways, we made our way inside, MM being obvious and ready to be a distraction, myself unseen. The main area of the church with the pews and everything was empty, but we were poking around and found a human relaxing in a room. After some intimidation, they confirmed that this was the haven of a coterie and that they have an extensive library. I let MM walk into their library and answer the inevitable "who the fuck are you and what the hell are you doing here". Luckily for us she is rather charismatic, and convinced them not to kill us. After this I revealed myself and explained a bit about who I am and what I do, and it seems our interests are very similar. A group of Autarkis who have no love for any sect. Those who have received my previous transmissions will know I am playing the Cammy game at the moment, operating under their rules, but I really don't care about them. The Anarchs are fine, but I don't want to join them and be called to help for every little fight and skirmish.

Anyways, we all talked for a bit and after I spilled some information on the local Court and a bit on the Anarchs, they decided I was at least worth a shot. I'm staying with them for the moment so to have a look at their library, which includes a rather old copy of the Book of Nod, Transcribed fragments of the Encyclopedia Vampirica, along with summaries and histories of the sects. How I do love that sweet Kindred lore.

Oh, and I owe them a ghoul.

|End of Transmission|

[warfared]

us special forces personnel file — jacket

BASICS ☆

name: richard knox

name meaning:

richard: french; strong in rule

knox: scottish; a round-topped hill

call sign: jacket

age: thirty-eight

birthdate: january 23rd, 1984

birthplace: miami, florida

nationality: american

IDENTITY ☆

pronouns: he/him

orientation: bisexual

gender: cisgender male

APPEARANCE ☆

height: 5’11”

weight: 182 lbs.

hair: blonde

eyes: blue

PERSONAL ☆

relationship status: single

occupation: special operative

affiliation: us special forces / solo / any pmc (verse dependent)

IN-DEPTH ☆

backstory: born and raised in miami, florida, jacket enlisted in the army at seventeen. on the bus to basic training, he met another teenager named james nicke, who sported the beginnings of a shabby beard. thus, james’ name sign became “beard”. beard began calling him “jacket”, as he wore a brown varsity jacket whenever he could.

the two of them completed training and were soon members of the us special forces, placed in a unit with two other men; benjamin daniels and erich barnes. the four of them became as thick as thieves, and their unit was soon named the ghost wolves due to their efficiency and ferocity.

the ghost wolves were deployed in hawaii to combat russian forces. while in hawaii, jacket met a woman, alice, who he fell in love with. she agreed to come home with him when his deployment was over. while attacking a russian encampment, barnes and daniels were both killed, and jacket barely escaped with his life, dragged out by beard.

jacket, beard, and alice were soon able to return home once the conflict ended, and once jacket healed from his injures, he and alice rented an apartment in miami. beard bought his own convenience store and regularly called jacket and alice to check up on them.

a few years later, jacket returned home to find that his apartment had been broken into, and alice had been murdered. as he stepped inside, he was shot in the throat by the intruder, who turned out to be one of the russians he had fought in hawaii, looking for revenge. a neighbor found him and called the police and an ambulance, and he was brought to the hospital.

several weeks were spent in a coma, and when he woke up, he had missed several calls from beard, which he attempted to return. when beard didn't pick up, jacket went to his store, only to find that it was a crime scene. beard was killed by the same man who shot him. jacket lost his girlfriend and his best friend in one fatal swoop, barely getting away with his own life.

jacket was angry. who wouldn't be? he set out to get revenge on the man who killed them, and when he found him, he beat him to death and threw up. he hadn't killed in years, and yet it still felt the same.

his life went about as normal as it could once his apartment was cleaned up and cleared by local authorities for him to live in again. jacket signed up for a newsletter that showed up in his mailbox - something called fifty blessings, for true americans. it sounded like a load of bullshit, but it was free, and it did pique his interest.

a week later, he received a box on his doorstep and a call, telling him that his order should have been delivered. jacket was confused. he hadn't ordered anything. opening the box, jacket found a chicken mask. and a note.

the target is a briefcase. discretion is of essence. leave target at point F-32, inside the dumpster. failure is not an option. we'll be watching you.

ah, of course, just what he needed - to become an unwilling hitman. against his better judgement, jacket took the easy way out and obliged the note and call. if he reported this, no doubt would he be found and killed.

once he completed the task, he said it would be his last one. but it wasn't.

each mission provided the opportunity to kill russian mobsters in miami, and jacket couldn't help it.

EXTRA INFORMATION ☆

extra:

jacket is selectively mute; after being shot in the throat, he near-completely loses the ability to speak and communicates in american sign language. he also owns a tape recorder and will play back bits and pieces of tapes

fifty blessings is an american nationalist organization. jacket does not share their views; they are manipulating his trauma to have them do their bidding. jacket isn't a xenophobe, but his feelings towards russians are complicated.

jacket is a chronic chainsmoker and an alcoholic.

[esonetwork]

Timestamp #267: The Zygon Invasion & The Zygon Inversion

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/timestamp-267-the-zygon-invasion-the-zygon-inversion/

Timestamp #267: The Zygon Invasion & The Zygon Inversion

Doctor Who: The Zygon Invasion Doctor Who: The Zygon Inversion (2 episodes, s09e07-08, 2015)

Best. Speech. Ever.

The Zygon Invasion

Once upon a time, there were three Doctors, two Osgoods, and one treaty.

Those two Osgoods represent Operation Double, the peace treaty with the Zygons. Twenty million Zygons have asylum on Earth so long as they maintain human forms, and each of those Zygons has the capacity for both great evil and great good. The treaty exists in the form of the Osgood Box, which can start and end war on the planet with a single death. If one human or Zygon goes rogue, regardless of the circumstances, it will spark a rebellion.

During Missy’s attempt to take over the world with Cybermen, one of the Osgoods died. Zygon or human? Unknown, but the other twin mourns regardless.

In 2015, the town of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico is under attack. Osgood races for shelter in a police station and attempts to contact the Doctor but is soon found by a Zygon. Her message reaches the TARDIS as the Doctor rocks out to Amazing Grace, and he is surprised to see what Osgood wrote.

“Nightmare scenario.”

The TARDIS lands at Brockwell Park in London. The Doctor tries to reach Clara while watching children in the park and questioning two little girls. Meanwhile, Kate Stewart coordinates efforts during the nightmare scenario at a UNIT safe house. She receives intelligence that the Zygons have captured Osgood. She sends the Doctor news that the cease-fire has broken down as Zygons storm the park and take the girls.

The Doctor joins Kate at the safehouse and watches a hostage video from Osgood. He calls Clara, who has just arrived at her apartment. Clara finds a child who is missing his parents. She finds two adults posing as his parents but the resolution doesn’t sit right. Regardless, she calls the Doctor.

Kate takes the Doctor and Clara to a local junior school that houses a Zygon hatchery. The two little girls were local Zygon commanders who were kidnapped by rebels. The control center in the school’s basement can coordinate all of the Zygons on Earth, so the Doctor uses it to assess the current state of the Zygons.

After Missy killed Osgood, the other Osgood went into hiding in her grief. She was taken by the rebels, who have also executed the Zygon commanders. Their message, Truth or Consequences, leads Kate to investigate New Mexico while Clara and Jac (Kate’s assistant) stay in the United Kingdom. The Doctor takes the UNIT presidential plane to Turmezistan, which might house a Zygon base.

Kate tells Clara about Z-67, a compound created by a UNIT naval officer back in the ’70s or ’80s which basically turns Zygons inside-out. It was taken by the Doctor at some point. After Kate leaves, Clara and Jac return to Clara’s apartment in time to see the young boy’s “parents” hauling out a human-shaped bag. The women follow the “parents” to an underground complex that is full of Zygon pods.

When the Doctor arrives at the UNIT base in Turmezistan, he finds a drone strike in progress. When the Zygons take the form of a family, the operator aborts the strike. The Zygons had posed as the operator’s family, and the Doctor realizes that they have developed telepathy and can take the form of whatever their targets love most.

In New Mexico, Kate searches for Osgood and finds a police officer who holds her at gunpoint. Once they establish that Kate is not a Zygon, they discuss the town’s history with the aliens. They were not prepared for the rebellion, and the officer shows Kate dumpsters full of human remains.

The Doctor and UNIT travel to the village in search of Osgood. They surround a local church where the Zygons are said to be hiding, and the Doctor follows the commander while the strike team orders the Zygons to surrender. The Zygons pose as the team’s family members and convince the team to follow them into the church. The Doctor and the commander enter through a back door just in time to find the remains of the team members. The commander resolves to bomb the village and leaves the Doctor to search for Osgood. Soon after, he finds her under the church but she’s bait to lure the Doctor away from the United Kingdom. The bombing starts early and a Zygon is captured in the assault.

Clara and Jac return to the caverns under her apartment with a UNIT team. As the Doctor and Osgood board the UNIT plane, he tries to call Clara but fails. The Doctor questions Osgood but cannot get a straight answer about her identity – human or Zygon – and labels her as a hybrid. The old rules were that a Zygon needed to regularly refresh the DNA imprint, so if the source died the Zygon would revert.

The new rules are that the Zygons have been taking people and placing them in stasis. That’s what happened with the young boy’s parents, and it is what happened to Clara when she asked after them earlier.

The Clara Zygon, who names herself Bonnie, has the UNIT team and Jac executed. Meanwhile, the New Mexican police officer reveals herself, turns on Kate, and takes her form. When the Kate-Zygon reports back to Bonnie at UNIT HQ, Bonnie takes a rocket launcher to the coast and takes aim at the Doctor’s plane.

The Zygon Inversion

The real Clara awakens in her apartment. There are clues that nothing is right, including her alarm clock reading wrong and her toothpaste being black gunk. She follows the Doctor’s voice to a static-filled television. She tries to escape the apartment but finds every exit blocked. As she watches Bonnie fire on the Doctor’s plane, she is able to manipulate Bonnie’s mind and actions, forcing her to miss the first shot.

The second rocket, however, strikes true. The plane explodes.

Later, Bonnie walks through the city in pursuit of a man. She tracks him to his apartment and promises to set him free. She zaps the man, forcing him to change shape and reveal himself as a Zygon. Bonnie returns to UNIT to retrieve the Osgood Box.

Clara reviews the footage of the explosion and discovers evidence that the Doctor survived. Sure enough, he and Osgood parachuted to safety in the debris. Osgood’s glasses were broken so the Doctor lends her the sonic sunglasses. They discuss the situation as they walk, including how much thought Osgood has put into how best to kill the Doctor if she were to take over the world. Meanwhile, Clara manipulates Bonnie’s hands to send the Doctor a message: “I’m awake.”

Osgood puts the pieces together and realizes that Clara is still alive and in stasis. They try to get help from the police but the officers are Zygons. Osgood tries calling Bonnie.

Bonnie watches the video about the Osgood Box but discovers that she was tricked. Osgood fed her false information about the box’s location. Bonnie takes the call and the Doctor is able to get information from Clara. They drive to Bonnie’s location as the Zygon travels to Clara’s pod and tries to extract information from her memories. Clara resists the effort and actually turns the tables on Bonnie before the Zygon reasserts control. Under duress, Clara reveals the location and access credentials for the Osgood Box at UNIT headquarters in the Black Archive.

The Box contains a button that will expose every Zygon for one hour. The sight alone will spark war.

The Doctor and Osgood arrive at the building where the Zygon that Bonnie awakened went on a massacre. They find the Zygon and discover that he only acted out of self-defense as humans turned on him. He was perfectly happy in human form and wanted no part in the rebellion. He kills himself out of fear.

Zygon-Kate (acting under Bonnie’s orders) arrives with two Zygons in disguise and offers to take the Doctor and Osgood to Clara’s pod. Bonnie has taken that pod with her to the Black Archive, but Zygon-Kate leads the Doctor and Osgood into a trap in the cavern. Bonnie orders Zygon-Kate to wait, however, when she discovers that the Osgood Box is really two boxes.

One box exposes the Zygons. The other kills them all instantly.

Bonnie frees Clara and tries to use her life as a bargaining chip. The Doctor tells her which box to open, but both contain buttons labeled Truth and Consequences. Bonnie screams in rage and orders Zygon-Kate to bring the captors to her. They are interrupted with the real Kate arrives, having survived her ordeal in New Mexico with “five rounds rapid“, and kills the Zygons.

The Doctor reveals that the boxes are safeguards for both species. Kate agreed to the contingency (and also to the Doctor wiping her mind) and agrees to take him to the Black Archive for a final showdown. When they arrive, the Doctor offers to take the boxes away and let the cease-fire stand, but Bonnie and Kate stand ready to push a button. So the Doctor lays out the stakes of the game.

In the red box, one button will release the Z-67 gas and kill every Zygon on Earth, but the other button will detonate a nuclear device under the Black Archive and destroy London. In the blue box, one button will unmask every Zygon on the planet, but the other button negates the ability of Zygons to shapeshift and locks them in human form forever.

Bonnie makes her case in front of the blue box but the Doctor dismisses her cruelty. The only way that anyone can live in peace is if they are prepared to forgive.

This leads to one of the best speeches of the Twelfth Doctor’s era.

This is a scale model of war. Every war ever fought, right there in front of you. Because it’s always the same. When you fire that first shot, no matter how right you feel, you have no idea who’s going to die! You don’t know whose children are going to scream and burn! How many hearts will be broken! How many lives shattered! How much blood will spill until everybody does what they were always going to have to do from the very beginning. Sit down and talk! Listen to me. Listen, I just, I just want you to think. Do you know what thinking is? It’s just a fancy word for changing your mind.

[…]

I don’t understand? Are you kidding? Me? Of course I understand. I mean, do you call this a war? This funny little thing? This is not a war! I fought in a bigger war than you will ever know. I did worse things than you could ever imagine. And when I close my eyes I hear more screams than anyone could ever be able to count! And do you know what you do with all that pain? Shall I tell you where you put it? You hold it tight till it burns your hand, and you say this. No one else will ever have to live like this. No one else will have to feel this pain. Not on my watch!

This is a man who has learned from the horrors of the Last Great Time War. He sees the faces and hears the screams every single day. This is a man who never wants to see it happen again.

And he’s willing to extend the hand of forgiveness to prevent it from happening again.

Kate closes her box and apologizes. The Doctor thanks her. After a few tense moments, Bonnie realizes that box boxes are empty. The Doctor tells her that she’s started to think. When Kate explains that threat is also empty, the Doctor tells her that she’s said that for the last fifteen times before activating the Black Archive’s defenses to wipe her mind.

Bonnie had not been persuaded fifteen times before. The Doctor repeated the events until he got a good result.

This time, he doesn’t wipe Bonnie’s memory. He explains that he had a similar choice once with a very special box, and just like Bonnie, he had Clara Oswald in his head as a guide. Bonnie returns to the master console and tells every Zygon that they are safe. She then returns to her normal form.

The Doctor offers to take Osgood in the TARDIS, but Petronella stays behind to take care of the boxes. As Clara goes inside, the Doctor asks one more time about Osgood’s identity. She won’t tell him, even as Bonnie arrives as the new Osgood, restoring the balance once again.

It doesn’t matter if they are human or Zygon. They are Osgood, and a credit to their species.

With that, the Doctor and Clara return to the stars. The Osgoods return to the defense of Earth.

But first, ice creams.

When people tell you that Doctor Who isn’t political, show them this pair of episodes. Invasion deals directly with imperialism and parallels the Global War on Terror, including a trip to a fictional central Asian nation. Inversion continues the thread by talking about war – both cold and warm – along with insurgency and brinksmanship. The analysis is capped by the speech that embodies the attitudes of many war veterans and students of history.

The trend of countrystan-ing to create a generic nation with easily identifiable stereotypes is disappointing and lazy. I don’t mind the tool when the writers take time to give the inhabitants actual personality and character – see Black Panther‘s Wakanda, for a great example – but here we see a play from the television dramas of the Cold War, Gulf War, and Global War on Terror eras. Think 1980 to present, spanning MacGyver, The A-Team, 24, and so on.

That aside, this tale is tense and important, following on from the sea change instituted in The Day of the Doctor. It echoes back to that pivotal day in the Doctor’s lives, including a life-changing box (or two) with a big button (or two, each). This story exercises the lessons that the Doctor learned from both sides of the Last Great Time War to save humanity.

I wonder if the path started with Kahler-Jex, another person who could hear the screams when he closed his eyes.

This story also picks up the thread of Harry Sullivan, whose last regular appearance was Terror of the Zygons. It seems that his last adventure stuck with him, and we remember from Mawdryn Undead that he ended up at the Porton Down chemical and biological weapons facility. The Doctor still considers him to be an imbecile.

As a war veteran myself, I can’t sing the praises of this adventure enough.

Rating: 5/5 – “Fantastic!”

UP NEXT – Doctor Who: Sleep No More

The Timestamps Project is an adventure through the televised universe of Doctor Who, story by story, from the beginning of the franchise. For more reviews like this one, please visit the project’s page at Creative Criticality.

[allsports4123]

Argentine legend Maradona

Argentine legend Maradona

A former Argentine football coach and soccer manager.

Italy's SSC Napoli won two Serie A titles and one UEFA Cup title, and the Argentine national team won the 1986 World Cup.

In recognition of his performance, he was selected as the FIFA World Player of the Century along with Pele, and in Argentina, there is a religion called Maradonaism that worships him and he is recognized as a national hero.

Maradona was born on October 30, 1960 in Lanus, Buenos Aires, to Diego Maradona, a father of Aboriginal + Spanish Basque descent, and Dharma Salvadora Franco, a mother of Italian + Croatian descent. I withdrew my father's name. When he was three years old, he received a soccer ball as a gift from his cousin, and he loved it so much that he hugged it for six months after receiving it because he was afraid that someone would steal his soccer ball.

His father, Don Diego, was a sailor of the Far North Corrientes Paranya Delta, and moved from Corrientes to Villa Fiorito, a shantytown outside Buenos Aires, Argentina, to join his wife, Dharma Franco, who was making money helping with housework. Don Diego built his own house with loose brick and metal wallpaper in the Villa Fiorito area. The slum was so violent and dangerous that even the police could not reside in and out of the area by bus every day. One day, Maradona, who had just taken her step, fell into the open trash can. His uncle Cyrilo shouted, "Diegito! Raise your head from that dumpster" to help him. The expression became an expression Maradona used repeatedly with spells when he was in a difficult moment in his life. In such a poor family and dangerous area, Don Diego often returned late at night and fell asleep after going out to work for his family at 4 a.m.

In this situation, except for his father, mother, and sisters, he, the eldest son of the family, thought he had to do anything to get out of poverty. I made money by opening the taxi door, selling waste, and collecting foil that comes out when I take off the cigarette packaging. He was not interested in the war games that local children flock to, and fortunately finds talent in one field. It was soccer. He always showed his best skills when he played soccer with his friends, especially when he dribbled. Born to be a striker.

Maradona, who loved to trap soccer balls and play tricks, joined local club Estreya Loha when he was eight years old, and rumors of a slum boy playing with balls all day quickly spread around Buenos Aires. Klein, one of Argentina's leading daily newspapers, reported Maradona in an article titled the birth of a soccer genius, and a reporter accidentally reported his name as Karadona. During this time, he was spotted by Argentine junior scout Francisco Cornejo, who recognized his talent, and Argentinos Jr. decided to make a bold investment in Maradona, who was only 11 years old.

Maradona, who played for the Argentine Juniors youth team Los Sevolitas, became an ace there, setting the team's 140-game unbeaten record and entertaining the crowd by coming out as a ballboy in the first division and performing ball tricks during halftime breaks, which is Maradona's exclusive warm-up. Jose Fekerman, who later became the head coach of the Argentine national soccer team, recalled that all first-tier players ended their training early and went to the youth team to watch Maradona. It is the first-ever player to appear.

Argentinos Juniors presented Maradona with a small apartment in Villa del Parc, near the stadium, and the boy and his family, who were living in the shack, shed tears at the unbelievable reality like a dream. When Maradona saw the scene, she vowed to succeed in soccer and live rich with her family for the rest of her life. And Argentina's Juniors is a stepping stone to spreading the name Maradona throughout Argentina.

In 1978, Maradona was a star beyond her country's best prospects. Therefore, the Argentine people expected Maradona to be included in the World Cup entry in their country, and Maradona, who was politically naive, was eager to appear in the representative work of the military regime.

However, Argentina coach Menotti did not bother to add Maradona. The reason was not lack of skills, and Maradona was still a 17-year-old teenager in her second year on the professional stage, so-called player protection that the fierce World Cup was still too early. In the end, they won the World Cup without Maradona. In terms of results alone, the national team also won the championship and Maradona later became the best star in football history, so it turned out well for everyone. 사설토토

At the 1979 FIFA World Youth Championship in Japan, Maradona made the world a soccer prodigy by scoring six goals, as well as winning the title with a free kick to beat the Soviet Union 3-1. By winning the tournament, Maradona was able to relieve the pain of not participating in the World Cup in her home country, and she became the world's best player by winning the best player in 1979 and 1980 in various big games.

[thaimains]

Chicago resturant

If you join us for our Chinatown Adventure Food Tour, we’ll guide you through the levels of spicy, spicier and the-spiciest-you-never-even-knew-was-possible. Known for flavorful sauces, dry roasted chilis, and fiery spices, this regional-style of cooking is sure to satisfy the most adventurous palates.īe warned though that the must-try dishes we mentioned above are majorly spicy-so come physically and mentally prepared. The original spot that launched his culinary empire is still humming along on Wentworth Avenue, where you’ll find his signature three-chili chicken, mapo tofu, and more. #1 Eat Where Locals Dine on a Chinatown Food & Cultural Walking TourĪcclaimed Chef Tony Hu has received international acclaim for his expertly executed Sichuan dishes at Lao Sze Chuan. There isn’t one single Chinese cuisine, though, but an enormous variety of regional dishes, secret specialties, and unique eats that are worth devouring. Visitors usually come to Chinatown with one goal in mind: find the best Chicago Chinese food without having to get on a plane. Beyond Chop Suey: Best Places to Eat in Chinatown Chicago Read on to discover the 22+ best restaurants, stores, landmarks, parks and adventures that only locals know about (and tourists totally miss!). In this guide, you’ll find some of Chinatown’s most intriguing cultural sights, mesmerizing annual events, and superior culinary spots. We’re here to help you push past the barriers and dive deep into the heart of this amazing neighborhood. How can you go deeper into this important slice of Chicago’s thriving and diverse community? You may have your go-to dim sum place, but many of its regional restaurants, small eateries, mom-and-pop shops, and cultural landmarks can seem out of reach. On the other hand, Chinatown can also be a tad intimidating for those who aren’t in the know. It’s the reason why so many of us love to visit its bustling streets. They are not intended to provide a historical picture of the food establishment nor are they intended to predict future findings.Īll inspection results are posted on-line for public access and updated on a weekly basis.Chinatown Chicago: 22+ Best Restaurants and Things To Do Guideįact: Chicago’s Chinatown is one of the most enigmatic, vibrant, and rich areas in our city. The results posted on-line only reflect the findings at the time of the inspection. If you note any discrepancies, please alert us via email to: noted during the inspection are merely allegations and may be disputed and dismissed at the Department of Administrative Hearings. The City of Chicago cannot be responsible for any discrepancies between results posted on-line and the actual inspection report. Generally inspections are conducted by the Health Department for sanitation and safe food handling practices, the Buildings Department to ensure the safety of the structure, and the Fire Department to ensure safe fire exits.The City's Dumpster Task Force, a collaborative effort between the Health Department and Streets and Sanitation Department, also inspects restaurants to ensure compliance with sanitation regulations. Some of these recurring inspections, such as the inspection by the Buildings Department, will be scheduled, while others will not. In addition to recurring inspections, restaurants may also be inspected in response to a complaint. Each year a restaurant is subject to annual inspections to ensure continued compliance with City ordinances and regulations. Inspections focus on food handling practices, product temperatures, personal hygiene, facility maintenance, and pest control.Īll restaurants are subject to certain recurring inspections. CDPH's licensed, accredited sanitarians inspect retail food establishments such as restaurants, grocery stores, bakeries, convenience stores, hospitals, nursing homes, day care facilities, shelters, schools, and temporary food service events. These inspections promote public health in areas of food safety and sanitation and prevent the occurrence of food-borne illness. The Food Protection Division of the Chicago Department of Public Health (CDPH) is committed to maintaining the safety of food bought, sold, or prepared for public consumption in Chicago by carrying out science-based inspections of all retail food establishments.

[ghost-drabbles-bc]

Hi there! I just wanted to tell you you're one of my favorite writers in Ghost fandom. I have several of your pieces heart'd just so I can re-read them. You, are awesome.

You’re too sweet! I actually should have two or so coming out today so be on the lookout for those! I’m glad you enjoy!