#still gotta figure out bank account stuff

[talsgarthewanderer]

Hello, followers! If I started posting more about my ESO adventures, would you be interested in them?

Like, I play ESO a lot. I play on my own account with 10 characters AND my sibling's account with their 6 characters AND occasionally on our parent's account with THEIR 6 characters. (I'm keeping my family gender neutral here because I dont know whether they'd want me putting them on blast to all of you)

I mostly just think that it would be fun to talk about the lore and environment and stuff as though Talsgar himself is traveling around Tamriel. There's so much content in ESO and very little of it conflicts with what we're familiar with from the main elder scrolls games (in that, there is definitely stuff that conflicts, but when you compare it to everything else that is lore-compliant, it's really quite a small amount), so I think it would be fun.

Plus, maybe I could convince some of you who are on the fence about playing to make an account next time they have a free-to-play event where you don't have to buy the game or any of the DLCs just to bop around and see the sights. I've put the story of how I, personally, got into playing ESO under the cut, so you dont have to read it if you dont want to lol

What got me into ESO was seeing a post on here with gifs of the city Shimmerene on Summerset, the biggest island of the Summerset Isles. Those gifs made it look gorgeous--the colors were vibrant, the water looked realistic as heck, the plants also looked realistic as heck, and the architecture was compelling to me as someone who studies classical antiquity.

Then, when I was getting a tattoo a few weeks later, I was able to chat with my tattoo artist about ESO and its pros and cons. He had recognized me as an elder scrolls fan several months earlier when I had gotten the Oblivion mages guild seal as a tattoo, so I figured he was a good person to talk to and thus I made an appointment specifically with him for another tattoo. And during my actual appointment, man was tattooing my spine and gushing about how fun the game was, how intuitive the gameplay is for someone who was used to playing Dragon Age games and could never really get hooked on Skyrim, and how ESO actually motivated him to go back and give Skyrim and Oblivion a try. It was super fun talking with him and I realized that if ESO can attract non-Skyrim folks, then it must be at least a decent game. Of course, it then took 2 more years of me researching the game to figure out if it was still a subscription-based model to play the base game.

Luckily, by the time I was doing this research, they'd actually switched from a subscription for the game itself to a subscription for a thing called ESO+, and the base game was actually available for just a single purchase of the game. I brought the idea up to my parent, who was almost 60 at the time and needed something other than skyrim or fallout 4 to play, and they were like, "we'll just get ESO plus because you want to see Shimmerene and it's part of a DLC that's included in ESO+ that we would have to buy separately without it."

And I gotta say, in person, Shimmerene is better than those gifs. My parent and I ended up going all over Tamriel in the first hour of playing, going to random places just to look at them, new and familiar alike. We went to Anvil and I was mad that Benirus Manor was a BANK, and not a house for sale. We went to Windhelm and I was like, "damn, everything's made of wood and the citizens are so much nicer to my dark elf." We went to Vivec City and I was like, "hold on there are only 3 cantons, wtf," and then we went to Balmora and it looked almost exactly the same.

And then we went to Elden Root and were like, "holy shit, thats the biggest tree I've ever seen in my life," which, we live in california and have seen the actual real life redwoods. The devs of ESO somehow made the elden root tree absolutely towering and evoke that same majesty that the redwoods evoke.

We went to the city of Daggerfall and it was delightfully medieval european, and then we went to Wayrest, and it was essentially just a bigger Daggerfall. We went to Rivenspire and immediately left because it was a blasted hellscape of dead trees and vampires.

We saw the swamps of Shadowfen, the jungles of Valenwood, the Alik'r Desert of Hammerfell, the snowy tundras of Eastmarch and Wrothgar. And ash-covered Vvardenfell and southern Morrowind.

Going to Mournhold and seeing the tribunal temple again was WILD. And Almalexia NOT in a murderous rage chasing me through the place.

Going to Vivec City and seeing them floating serenely above their throne.

Seeing Sotha Sil in the Clockwork City alive!! and talking!!!!

Seeing the cherry blossoms of summerset and auridon, the stuck-up high eleven nobles turning up their noses at my little dark elf not for being a dark elf but for not being a high elf, which was weirdly refreshing after skyrim.

Seeing several different kinds of Khajiit furstock! Big senche-rahts! Tiny alfiqs! Towering pahmers! Absolutely mind-blowing.

Also having to walk everywhere? because you gotta discover places to fast travel back to them, like in skyrim? Arduous as heck, because the land is so big and you are so small, and there are so many places to visit, and you have to explore them all. You just have to.

Anyway, thats my propaganda for playing ESO.

[mister13eyond]

10, 5 and 8 for Vin!

10.) What objects do they always carry around with them? (What do they need for their normal, day-to-day routine? What does ‘normal’ even look like for them.)

Vin's the kind of person that usually carries a small backpack or bag, because he always has to haul multiple things with him just on the OFF chance he needs them. He's usually got his nintendo Switch, wallet (somehow, he has a legal ID and a bank account- those were definitely favors called in from Hell), phone (android, several years old but still functional; cracked screen protector), beanie or hat (gotta hide the horns!), small crystal vial (mana reserve, in case something goes wrong), sketchbook, pencil case (a couple pencils, one fine liner, one brush pen), a few random loose sticky notes with sigils/wards scribbled on them Just In Case, and a talisman given to him by Asphodel that he can't touch with his bare hands or it gives him blisters (the thought counted)

5.) What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? (Good way to get some *emotional* backstory in.) 

Vin actually has a really difficult time crying, even when he feels like he'd feel better if he just could. He has a hard time letting himself sit around and feel anything negative- he's the kind of demon to try and keep himself constantly distracted or busy so that he doesn't have time to think of anything bothering him.

Because of that, he's probably due for a good one any day now. The last one was not long after he got stuck in the human world, and it was one of those that was a 'straw that broke the camel's back' situation. He'd been arguing with the summoning and displacement division of his company, who insisted they couldn't bring him back per the terms of his contract, even if the contract was made in error, and no that wasn't grounds for dismissal or unpaid time off work- he could still do his job from the human world, it was all largely tech work anyhow- and so he'd had to start making phone calls and trying to arrange some sort of logistical setup in the human world (where was he going to live? how was he going to avoid detection? how was he going to work?) and he dropped and broke the mug he was drinking out of. That did him in, out of everything, and he had to quickly end the call before the poor devil on the other end had to hear the waterworks. (Everyone knows demons aren't supposed to cry, so you certainly don't cry in front of another of the damned.)

Things have gotten better since then, at least!

8.) Describe the place where they sleep. (ie what does their safe space look like. How much (or how little) care / decoration / personal touch goes into it.)

When Vin first put out a roommate ad on UnHoly Craigslist, he didn't have much in his apartment at all. A bedframe, a dresser, a few plastic storage totes, some folding card tables and his laptop.

Now, though, he's wound up collecting a lot of ephemera; some good, some bad. He's added a lot of both thrifted and Ikea furniture; a better bedframe, some shelves, some side tables and lamps. A lot of what he's collected is stuff- Vin loves plushes and figures and memorabilia and merchandise. He spends way too much money on games and anime figures and cute headphones and cute plant pots for succulents and decorations-

He has also accumulated a lot. A lot. Of clothes. They wound up being one of his worst human vices; he loves to dress up and he loves to buy random thotty outfits online- so the other thing you'll find all over his room is laundry. He's somehow always behind on it; he's always getting overwhelmed by how many clothes he has to wash. And yet, there he goes, putting on another crop top and pair of leggings. RIP.

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3039

my everything hurts. but the good news is the bone in my hand is more or less back together. if i poke it, it doesn't act or hurt like it's broken. sure it's tender there, but it's still healing, of course it still hurts. so back on with the brace and still no using it until next tuesday's appointment.

i washed my laundry today. it was much needed.

i realized that just wearing a sweatshirt probably won't cut it for most of the winter. i need to figure out what i can do to avoid that.

i mostly did things at home today. we pulled up the christmas boxes and started decorating today too, but christmas music wasn't playing so it was mostly okay. i'm grateful for the one station here that doesn't play christmas music yet. i owe them my life.

we put up the tree, the new window candles, and the wreaths inside. we moved the living room back together, and planned out how things will be arranged for the christmas party which is rapidly approaching. i have too much to do before that happens.

i have to call the doctor tomorrow to reschedule an appointment i have this week.

i also had class this evening - we talked about what our sections have in them to the head of the company, and i also ended up sending my professor and update email about my hand and stuff.

i also grossly overestimated how much strength and function i'd have left in my fingers after the brace time was up. as it stands, i can barely move my pinky (which makes sense) and my ring finger hurts like hell and gets in the way too much when typing for it to be useful. so i am going to struggle, likely, with writing my essays on my phone. a deadline is a deadline, and i gotta get it done soon. like, tomorrow. so i'm hoping to get a bunch done tomorrow, if not all of it. i think i'll need to find my battery pack so i can keep typing throughout the day. and if i can get my bluetooth headphones charged,'i'll use those and the cable charger to deal with things.

but i need time to myself first. so i'm hoping to get some of that tomorrow, but it's not seeming likely.

and in the meantime, i overdrew my bank account because a charge took a month to go through one account that i used yesterday, and im Displeased. so im also waiting for my refund to come in from the school, so i'm not a sitting duck when it comes to paying my bills this month.

im such a mess.

the good news is that i should get to see joel on wednesday. once i get there i'll probably take a nap lmao

[foxiepirate]

Dinner tonight was so funny/awkward . Let me set the scene:

My parents are separated because my dad sucks

Last night , our mom told us she’s getting evicted

This morning, my dad lost his job

My dad begged to come over for dinner , mom said yes

Okay so basically, my dad was fired from his job like early this morning and is super sad about it . He’s also super sad about the divorce stuff and he pestered my mom until she agreed to let him over . He decided he was gonna come around 3 , so we put on star wars while waiting for dinner . My parents are awkward and sad because shitty stuff is going on , and I’m just soaking in these gross feeling . Eventually my mom decided to cook dinner , and there was no way my ass was dealing with that sober , so I took three blinkers and sat down . It was funny cause please imagine this terrible awful mood coming from 4 ppl around a dinner table , and then me , high as fuck , just going on about the most random shit . It’s not funny in the hahahha funny but in the , the “I’m 19 years old , just finished my first year of uni , and am the only one in my householdS with a job so I’m now supporting four people and wtf is going on” kinda funny . Anyways this sucks .

My mom worked a deal with the courts , so she has a little more time to pay her rent but she’s not doing anything about it, so I have to find a way to pay it or she’s gonna be fucking homeless . I have no idea what’s going on with my dad , but his family is rich rich so he’ll manage . I’m also tryna get a car cause my dad won’t let me borrow one of his unless I let him have my location and I won’t because he’s an abusive fuck and a control freak . My siblings won’t get jobs either , like , my sister is 20 years old , a college drop out , and she refuses to get a fucking job . Girl ??? And my brother , honestly he’s the most innocent in this , bros still got a year of hs left so I’m not mad at him . But like ugh . This sucks lol . I said I’m 19 but I haven’t even hit that yet . I feel like I’m barely an adult worrying about things I shouldn’t have to . And obviously other have it worse , blah blah blah . This still fucking sucks . I’d been helping my mom pay her rent while I was still in school , plus my dad randomly takes my money (him and my mom have access to my bank account) so I don’t have a lot of money rn . Like yes I have a job , but I’m not making that much . And now I need a second job because ughh . And idk what I’m gonna do about school because I can’t fucking afford that . My dad was gonna pay it but he’s unemployed now so obviously I gotta figure my own shit out and ong the only doable option at this point is the fucking military .

[renatedagmarmilada]

The Misuse of Power-

JULY POETRY

 July- The face of british humanity

but when asked to test for USA

British Humanity died!

 when Anna of the lab St Barths Human Research

which is supposed to care for the retarded

dies and no longer has power of the ‘Machine’

Marshal Law will come to England

to sort everything out

again

they say..

 Until then

England will run wild and lawless

as she wills

as Anna of the lab St Baths Human Research

knows all the secrets

of all those at the top

 the care for the retarded

changed to manipulating

the People.......

 for the guy

who told me

we don't want to know your business

 it is not about my business

it is about what government departments

do to ordinary citizens

if they are helpless

 for years I wrote beautiful stuff

hinting by innuendo of what was happening

no one listened

a lot printed

but no one had the sense to look deeper

 so now I let you have it straight

which is all a woman can do

no innuendoes anymore

no guessing

those are the facts straight-

but then if I were a man

no doubt it would matter more

 women get the brunt

of this experimental

''treatment''

here and everywhere

and over the pond

the blacks

black women mainly

who must figure as we do here.

 PINK SILK AND GREY FEATHERS

 was it code

I asked myself

 driven out of this penine city

to the East End I grew to love

 having wrongly thought the hassle

was local grown not from the capital

 beaming to Jessop's Hospital

which has now had to be pulled down

(everywhere they use has to be changed in some way)

 the lab decided my demise

from life or what ever else

 one day returning to my home

there down Plashet  Road

 which their thieves regularly visited

the lab said they had three

 two black and one white

endless break ins the order of the day

 was it on the day

those men in royal blue

 macs I mean

followed me round the place

 as Sikh friend, platonic if you want to know

went about the East End for working materials

 maybe not

(I loved my number thirty nine to death

 but finally sucumbed and left)

found on my bed

 my silk underwear with a cut crotch

scattered with feathers on the top

 I have to admit though living here most of my life

I am not indigenous

 some of their messages

are beyond me to decode

 even at over forty-

the real message was

 that since I have never been able to afford

silk underwear, that was from my married days

 and to those who want to know

my hair is still naturally mid brown to this day

 but then can you decode

a circle of perfectly cut cubed green-glistening meat

 placed in an absolutely perfect semi circle -left

at my gate- good or bad?

 and I gotta tell ya

I ain't superstitious so it's lost on me!

 A BIG GAIL

 Abigail

oh such a big gail

 I put all that work into a journal for you

I told them it was what a penfriend told me

 I didn't know it was your prisoners work

for the last twenty four years

 at University, at home, on sites

now the lab is blocking Beta Poets altogether

 Nothing goes through to your two hundred and sixty three poems

We have taken some more from there and your folders

 his wife laughs at me

'don't worry, he put all your work into our system.'

 Muslim papers and work

copied from an east european refugee. More shame for them.

 Well, my son in law is a Ghandi extended family

I suppose so we have to suffer for that?

 I had always said

Indians are my family

 Pakistanis my friends

but they really do stab anyone in the back

 We gave away everyone who was in hiding

to our British conquerors back then

 robbed my bank account though a woman alone

a thousand for each one and have no shame!

 Now which journal Abigail

such a big gale

 or as their psychiatrist put on the air to me

'Your vagina is like a big pail says Carl'

 'Ich bin auch Jude' followed me round the East End

They call that a 'debasement programme' by the way!

 continued none stop through University lectures

through Mass, through all Churches

 over conversation and tv, over all music which is terrible

but I now no longer listen to words only melodies

 It is remote on airwaves no hiding from it

so there is no way of stopping them

 they call it the ultimate phase out

as we did no wrong they can never stop!

 seven years prison was what awaited them if caught

In America they get nine or so

 It's in - gracia

It's in Grazia!

 CAMILLA

 OH NO.........

not hyping my blood vessels again

on the machine given by America

to St Barths Human Research

 Camilla was in it, we keep turning it

the so called programme, turning it, turning it

Jewish spin doctors filled with sadism

letting Muslims spite whites

 Now we know why they had to ask for Partition

all India knew they had stabbed

their countrymen in the back

dare not let the Brits leave without hiding

 the lab had hundreds taken

from the Halifax, a month's wages for teaching

said it was for Camilla's part

in this major idiocy, going round, round and round

 now you have to have another change

well not a real one, one crime, a pomander of the queen

on the toilet role holder, another, admirer of Sydney Potier

blood vessels hyped their 'Stanis already practices that

 I quote here ''the silly cow

never went to the doctors''

got no medication through it

but we gave her the prince

 I had gone to the doctors, what is medication for ..

had no problems

but Anna boss of the lab

performs and faints all over the place twixt her men

 and when I had said

only women with the luxury

of time and money

can afford to have changes

 a poor working woman

with children and no father

really hasn't time

for such nonsense

 being English

feeling superior

she was mad as hell

so pays me back now with this experimental rubbish.

 Look it is true

in the Ukraine

the women worked in the fields

worked at home

worked everywhere

 who had time to drop all over the place

having changes

for goodness sake

I am only speaking the truth

 though I was here

my situation had been made

the worst possible by this lab with their experiments

''destroy their lives

and see how they cope''

 so my reaction was the same

in the Ukraine it was the same

poor women had to suffer for the rich

dragging their bodies around…

 MERIEL LABS

 Meriel is the Welsh form of Muriel

a varient form of of Meryl and Merle..........

 English Muriel

is that the connection

who told me it would be three generations

before the brits could consider

if we could become British....

Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

don't think so.

 Meryl lived across the road to us

a long time ago

a sweet friend and her husband

they were Mormons

she made me smile

telling me after she gave birth to a son

you see..

all my babies who are not yet born

will be jealous because I will love this one so very much

a thought which had never entered my head

when I had my five in that decade

but typically sweet

They invited me to come and kneel and pray

at their home

with them

but believe me

no disrespect

but I had enough on

taking my tribe to Mass

along with my little sister in law

who lived with us

'cause the ex-es ma had topped herself-

sitting silently as supposed

making sure they didn't drop the collection money

as little boys will

and putting the pennies into their pockets

 Then years later

we met again

I worked at the Path lab of our local hospital

and so did she

 and Frank of the bright blue eyes used to watch

used by the lab St Barths Human Research he was

Frank was supposed to be their honesty get out

that is their way of working

making one aware that one is being watched that way

and interjecting odd little remarks

which sound as part of the conversation

till you become aware

and other crazed stuff like that.

I ought to add here right away

that the lab St Barths Human Research

has absolutely no respect

for hospitals, medical staff or any type of doctor

or anyone else to that matter.

except for their own lying and cheating

turning all others into liars and cheats

We may not drop on our knees very often

but we come from a people

who believe in God and our doctors

(but then we paid for ours

and they worked for us

not for lists of every sort.)

They're all lunatics there at that lab...

 and Meryl and I got on really well

though we worked super hard

N.H.S. believe in getting their moneys worth

and we had to ring young doctors and tell them off

for using the wrong blood bottles for the wrong blood

and stuff like that

 Meryl was a careful, slow soul

me, I chucked the bottles about quite sharply

Listen, I had Hep B as a kid refugee

and goodness knows what else not counted yet

and am still here

I reckon the almighty quite likes me in fact

so don't get het up about things.

 Now it happened we had a consultant there

that was Scunthorpe town

three in fact but one a woman,

a really nice blonde

who travelled from Sheffield town.

The lab are mad

please believe that

they think in weird ways and paths....

 so when they put her on the machine

(they probably had them all on

as they never admit anything

and it is all done in secret and remote)

they didn't know what to call her

so because she was a consultant of the Path Lab

they called her Meryl

though she is not a Meryl

and after I moved to Sheffield Town myself

they used her in set ups

(they are lunatics and use crazy set ups

which sane people like me ignore)

They told me the consultants private business

they tell me lots of details

saying they tell people

I need to know so they can tell them

lies about me which they call issues

but it is Anna of the lab who knows

and it is another honesty get out

so they put on lots of sexual abuse infact

which upset me at first

till I realised these people are not normal

but weirdos and lechers

quacks or not

admitting that they are nosey parkers

and get paid to do nothing better

but from me

a secret it will stay.

 Now foot and mouth comes from the Merriel Labs

another circle is complete

 Human Research are absolutely mad, cracked

lunatic, crazy, off their heads

or what ever else you want to call it.

 THE POST AGAIN?

 'I don't see why we have to rob her post, again..?'

because it is another freedom taken

all freedoms have to be destroyed for the family..

 'They demanded it on high' Anna

bossess of the worst programme in peace time

lied as always.

 On high

was a Tory M.P. person

who was also an ex-lover

whom she asked for something to put on the file

 He answered

I was sure once

my post was lost or with-held

then it came

 for that

presents from China to my daughter

presents to grandson Josef from China

presents to my other grandsons

not only the

twenty four paintings I sent them

dozens of other presents I sent to people

 including one to my friend in Russia

to whom I sent warm woolly clothes

worth hundreds

were taken by the lab

 four hundred of my poetry books

over three hundred of my letters

and a long list of other thieving

from a lab full of thieves

 They demanded it on high

was the lie

 The lab manipulates the post

as it pleases

(even exam papers)

 Anna just ensures they get lost

like the thieves from the directed thieving in my house

as she watches there

quiet as a mouse

though they see she talks like a rubbish pusher

twenty to the dozen

or as the Civil Servants said

how could we be blamed

she breezed in full of life

after our stuffy wives

(I wonder if I was a stuffy wife too?

but honestly

there at the Ministries!

my ex old man always used to say

never go to toilet in your own back garden

which does make sense you know.)

at the lab St Barths Human Research

of which she is the bossess

from all that bonding

 (She asks them after the so called programme

and which was the lie?)

still maximizing

endlessly

criminally

by some of the worst criminals

the world has ever seen

if the truth were ever to be allowed

and we come from Stalin and Hitler country!

 THAT’S A NICE ENOUGH CARDI..

 Being stateless refugees

enemy aliens to boot

we were always very poor

though poached to come here

 no benefits for us

no child allowances

no housing benefits

nothing

 what we had we worked for

and always lived within our means

so robbing us

is taking the lot

 Our presents were smaller

than yours are

but our celebrations happier

for that

 In mum's country

a knitted sweater is an essential

people don't bother much with coats

with four kids, my time was limited

 so every Christmas

mum would give me a knitted sweater

which I cared for lovingly

washed and wore constantly

 she knitted them in all the different austrian styles

long and straight

coloured edgings and patterns of every kind

thick jacket types

 Mustafa of the lab St Barths

robbed my suitcase as planned

from Manchester Airport Emirates

paying an Airport Employee who drove it out

in his grey car

 The suitcase was to do for one whole year

teaching in China, C.D's. players, books and such

at my age I like my own clothes

where ever I go

 Get this

because they had had my paintings and writings

copied by others

the lab boss Anna wanted my clothes worn by others

 'sposed to be psychology

so Mustafa told his wife

you have to wear her blouses and cardis

and one or two other people too

 the english girls at the lab say

each time he wanted something

he came to their lab to check

it was not in my suitcase

 so his wife had to wear my cardis

and silk shirts which I can never replace

years and years of collecting

she wasn't keen but he made her

 (Are they the ones who live near Marble Arch

and collect family credit I wonder)

so yesterday on the bus they passed the message

they do that constantly

 nice enough cardi

the cardi your mum knitted you

all the year as she was going blind

and someone here pinched my mum's best clothes

 this is what the british call

'research' and circles..

I would say neither jews nor muslims

know the ten commandments

 as the german retired consul they used had said

they all need some Sunday School, no good

the Church of England was in it too

and took some of my poetry as theirs/hers.

 (Remember, the queen went to talk to the Pope)

 EVERY FREEDOM GONE

 The whole media played along

they chose look alikes

stories alike

and have them taunt

 the thief of a painter

one of the fine artists they used

("I deserve to cheat and lie

and copy yours

I didn't pass my school leaving exams

you did

so why should you be an artist too")

 sunday morning tv

switched on

remember the tv never goes on

without them taunting

and the whole media plays along

 "I don't know where you get your ideas from!"

(my life actually

and that of my family-

were I english

I would be ashamed

to make mainstream

a poor refugee woman

stateless, elderly

her final work

as british work ..

but one thing the Brits never had

was shame)

 but I know how I use them.........

 British art and literature stink of copying

they stink worse than Nazi art

or communist art

They were at least about an ideal

when people thought there was no other way

 the british

in their magpie way

as usual

have art and literature

about thieving vulnerable and helpless people..

 I had thought at first

it was merely a game of nerves---

---as I heard all our family jests

and the rest

on the tv daily and nightly

so stopped listening

and was comforted by the Bishop at Lahore

where I had fled years ago

thinking a bit of peace

who said at Mass

(they had stopped debasement

over Mass by then)

'these media guys think they are the world

take no notice'

L.A. had told them to make us

so known by others we could never

talk of our own again--

----and they would stop

that was years ago

and still it goes on and on

"she (that's me to you) is a nice little earner

use them to the core

just as they did in Auschwitz

in another of their stories

 Theresienstadt did not screw out the painters minds

they got them to copy famous art works by the way.

 Let her paint and write the lab said

we will use it all as ours

the jews as jewish stories

the brits as british stories

every hair she has'

which they are now again removing daily

though I lost none in China..

 the pakistani toilet cleaner:

I put on the machine a 'change'

like our women always moan of

and you never have

and I put on it sweats like our women say

but a hundred times more intense

but only during lesson times

hyping your blood vessels by laser

(so I catch cold as the air hits me)

and wispy hair

once taken by the machine cannot grow

(that's a form of punishment

They told us to change you..)

so you lose your brown fine hair

(identical to Camp Five Auschwitz-

idiots playing with sophisticated machinery)

we wanted you running to the doctor

the jewish quacks said

so we could claim you were a hypochondriac

not to be believed

and merely say

just how resourceful are you

then we can claim we thought of it.

 That is how the lab works

intense intense intense everything.....

each human has a smell of their own

you all know that

so they intensified my vaginal smell

a million times

and told their students and women

-that is how I smell (done remote)

then they put on dirty smells of me as I teach

and dirty smells of others to me

it is so stupid it defies description

from this file which it appears reads

(german paid to come to the lab

to use the english population told me)

-am dirty, stupid and a whole list of horrors

written by the jewish quacks of the lab

(remember we saved jews)

and they must punish me for that.

 Like the hot water with Margaret

and so many other disasters

anything is possible

from this new energy displacement machine

used in the most evil imaginable way

by raving lunatics and idiots playing....

 Oh America

why didn't you check to whom you give such power

before you let them have the power and advances

They don't play like you......

they don't use prisoners and slobs

they use the hard working, decent and their citizenry

and help the rapists and yobs.

You after all freed yourself from the corrupt island

why do you put corruption back into their hands?

 ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE NOW..

 circle circle Papparozi

makes it all seem normal now

 circle circle foot and mouth

Sars was back too and all the other shouts

 circle circle chinese skimming again

then they say I can teach over there

 circle circle covering again

it is an ordinary negative psychology ploy

 circle circle just some decent useful people, what the hell

as long as we the criminals survived

 circle circle use it all again

no one thinks of what is really going on

 circle circle are you going to repeat it all

plane and train crashes, erruptions and floods too?

 circle circle each country has to manage an internal disaster

after we of St Barths will use our machine to give the answers

 circle circle, the biggest blag of all time

all of England's art and literature destroyed...

 circle circle, as apathetic humanity goes shopping

scratches its backside and doesn't care

 circle circle the most corrupt of all cheats

controlling us and everything

 circle circle the most corrupt of all cheats

controlling us and everyone and thing

 circle circle they rule the world

because none of us cared even the law

 St Barths Human Research has won the day

''so you got away with it all'' their helpers chuckle

 the citizenry of the country

they've used for a long, long time

they 'got' me on their machine in eighty four

in this country we ran to for safety

then they got those surrounding me

then they came for the Princess

then they came for the M.Ps

then they came for the objectors

then they came for me

then there was no one left to object for me

in all the noise I would not listen

to that one or two quiet voices telling

and the big voice in my head screaming

 seems humanity deserves what has and is happening

too busy with their toilet

 as we wait for the contolled world

but not controlled as we had hoped

 and we've seen it all before

if only I were young enough to fight not just to sigh.

 THE CRITICAL AGE

 The critical age has gone far too far

the libertines have all gone mad

sense has flown out of the windows

 Time to renew what we think

teachers were bashed

respect for teachers disappeared

 how can a teacher teach without respect

 Now the Police are being bashed

respect for the Police disappears

and slowly those who want anarchy

are winning the day

 how can the police police without respect

 the critical element often do not realise

they too will lose in the long run.........

It began with the bashing of the Church methings

 without respect all will collapse

and no one will know peace or happiness

as only money will be left

 Bought respect is no respect

and we should know

we've seen it all collapse before

 But the West has yet to learn

Capitalism is about Profit

but money cannot buy respect

 All systems on earth are faulty

run by humans

only God is perfect as has so often been noted

 those with faults a'plenty

spend their time running down

those who try to keep some sort of order

 'give it a rest guys

and stop those devils like St Barths research

turning our countries into corrupt personal havens of power.'

 NEbRAT SE A NE KRAST SE

 Sheffield Faire.........

"at Sheffield Faire we exhibited

hoping you would see

 the special feature

being there...

YOUR work for all to see.."

 but whose name was with the work?

we saw no Fekete there

and all things done by me

are signed RF or surname sigged...

 Sound over the mongolian C.D.

tuning my Hi Fi sounds

(a method of theirs for two decades now)

as I unpack my things returned

from teaching in China poor

where thieving is not a sport

but only done to fill empty bellies

 'modern flowing songs'

picked the most beautiful tune of all

to tell me of this latest move

"and now we have to repeat it all again"

the lab wishes to prove I am

merely ordinary with endless dishonesty?

 (I happen to believe in the individual-

that we all have a spark of something..

Though it is more than time to curb births

to reasonable numbers

in our overflowing world

it is time and more than time

to stop family allowance

except for the very poorest

to make people responsible

for the life they create-

however, those already born deserve a life)

 So now to Sheffield Faire I must

to see MY work anew

the ten to twenty hours a piece

of solid none stop work

it takes me to paint each scene

as a fine artist filched of all ideas

 and they added after it all

"that's why we had to pinch it all

from your little two up and down

which you call Fenris House

Pagehall in your end of town

so you can never prove

what lying cheats and thieves

we all really are...................."

 Wish they lived here

so I could teach their children

at one of our schools

who will probably all become thieves too

I could teach

that thieving from old ladies

is not a nice thing to do..

 not even for the lab St Barths Research

and all their guarantees of sales they give

in hell your soul will burn for such spite

if such a thing as a soul you even possess#

 the t.v. says everyone thinks

these cheats have done really well

but they merely copied it all

to order............

 FRANCE!

 Twice now

St Barths Human Research

we need to get a foothold

into France

 They are holding off

just like the Russians

I want a handle in France

 If she goes over there

(She is me to you)

They might believe her

 We have a part of America

We have all of Germany

We have Italy and Spain

We have the Chinese and more

 But the French

like the Japanese and Russians

are being stubborn

which is just what they said

about me.....

 'India has already fallen long

there will be an influx of theirs'

(the lab brings in a mass inxudus

from which ever country it wins)

and the Mongolians objected to such

 The Germans turned out more

stupid than we had ever guessed

as did the Huns all on our screen

 We have the Poles too

but the French are holding off

They were always a nuisance

 ....and Brown has given Ann of the lab

the Green light to go on

she merely shrugged-

he lost a baby for it.

(they all have to have a disaster first

Blair's was the miscarriage)

 The slow killing of the Party

by the 'Old Boys.'

 LOBBY?

 what the lab did was simple

 having been caught out

breaking international law and internal law

ran screaming

 'I've made a mistake

I'll cover it with your permission'

 There was a lobby

against that kind of experimentmentation

 She merely killed them off one by one

with the old boys behind her, all former lovers

 'look, what does it matter

we just destroyed a few careers and lives..

 we repeat the attrocities in different ways

to see what the result will be.

 we don't use rats

we use the Miss (me) and her family instead.

 In England people are quite law abiding

Anne just rides over the law

 but looks and talks the law

no one thinks to check her

 They just don't expect people

to break the law on purpose in that field

 Lives ruined of artists for an experimental idea

untested stuff and a battery of lies from the top

 Dennis Civil Servant of the Health Ministry

and Arthur and Arnold, lovers one and all

 showed the lab how to take from citizens without being caught

decrease pensions, rob banks and the rest on computer.

 Such are the keepers of the Crown

Though as a child new here in this country

 I was told I may not swear loyalty

to the Queen at the Brownies as I was a foreigner

 but we are more loyal and think more of what loyalty is

though we are only 'closet heroes'

 than all those over-puffed dictators of this corrupt LAND.

 THE QUEEN

 The Queen

wished to know

exactly

what and how many attrocities

 She will be told

that which is good

for a Queen to know

 We ofcourse have to lie to you

to the British Crown

to the questions they ask

 The Queen asked

what were the attrocities

the attrocities will be cut but not on you..

 some things are better

for the Crown not to know

we'll show proper respect but..

 and later came this

we've told her Highness

all we dare

 we told her there were links

to your childhood which is ridiculous

we're practicing on the public

 we havn't said that

so sayeth the lab

she/me is going to talk now, whatever

 At this point

I could write

one of my clever little lines

 quoting past and not so past

lechers and liars

but I think myself

 we have to repeat all attrocities

we lied then about you all (not forgotten)

so now we have to add more lies called issues

 when an evil idea begins

all the animals appear from nowhere

creeping out of the woodwork

 enough has been said ....

when the Queen asks

honesty should be the answer

though not indigenous we would give only honesty...

 footnote:

P.M. Brown was told 'you were alright

with being used

for robbery and torture.'

I am disappointed.

 THE LAST DAYS OF A PRINCESS

 Ann of the lab

its bossess at Barths

puts on a disaster programme for some

on that person's co-ordinates

 for some they get every help

that this form of corruption can bring

every help that can come without sting

from dishonesty and cheating

 Once we have them in this system

we never let them free

for good or for bad

they stay on our machine

 We've broken every law

on the family and around

not a soul can see but few

and no one can catch us out

 For now........

They're advanced beyond anything

any of the secrets they pretend to reveal

with such thoughtful 'honesty'

 WOMENS’ NODULES

 'women who paint deserve this sort of treatment'

wilful wrecking of a life

in a slow dispassionate manner..

 I am that woman who paints

of whom they rant

this was four days ago, not four hundred years ago

 'Lee got your arms and t*ts'

what did Lee do?

you've heard of stronium rays

 he pressed each single nodule in my breasts

a very painful process

but unseen done remote

 still sometimes not so heavily

and often continue underarm

because we are not seen as human

 Even the birth of my nine pound breech Patrick

was not as painful as what they did repeatedly

it activates any cancer cells a woman might have

 Human Research may do as it wills

government and royalty allow it so

fear and horror of the silent screams are meaningless

 Someone did ask the other day

did she feed her five babies herself

(Research never checks anything!)

well no, she was too ill after each birth

 No need to worry about these Huns mixed with Irish

they are not like we british or jews

they don't feel pain of experiments though are far too sane!

 Has it all been done before

yes, to patients in hospitals and out

who could not even guess what it was all about.

 ''Let's find something for the Irish to do

so they forget about fighting us''

put them into performance arts to use up their virility

 The world run by the new leaders

St Barths Human Research

sounds just like Hitler and Stalin to us

 Jewish 'doctor' Meyer, wife and niece sold mine to Topshops, adds

'I wanted to see you a physical wreck'

Do you know, that is probably what they said at Camp 5!

 (more doctors, doctor Mengele this time.

They say that mob learnt from their earlier jewish mentors)

 DIRECTED THEFTS

 Returned from teaching in China

to try to stay alive

in every way

 Here in blighty

though the place is filled with terrorists

they kill the useful and decent

 One phone call to the top

and all is gone

no work, no safety, nothing

 Still torturing daily

gaining in intensity again

the directed thieving continues

 they merely disable the electric alarms

now I find

not only every  story I ever wrote gone

 paintings too ofcourse

now being copied by this two faced nation

private things included

 photos of the bapitsm

of my chinese goddaughter

why you think

 they were present

I am on a machine

where they torture they rob all afterwards

 chinese silk tablecloths for mum

clothes I bought for mum before leaving

(silk shirts and good skirts, all gone)

 they used carers to steal those

directed by the lab a list too long

to give out thefts from me

 it is supposed to go round and round

though mum is ninety and I over sixty

Dad's death certificate taken

 why, we killed him

war time papers to show where he was

mum's Czechoslovak citizens papers

 all taken so there can be no return

They said we had to start totally anew

someone yesterday remarked

 They are nothing but racketeers

at St Barths Human Research

behavioural science on their killing spree

 and other things, so many other things

taken by these monsters

cowardly people who can only hit the weak

 One silver lining

the bossess Anna wanted to put a stop to my poems

on Beta they wiped and changed them

 You will not compromise me she stormed

by telling the truth. They were told

THIS site is american

 America would have to stop them

Hurrah for free speech!

is there really more freedom elsewhere?

  People wont look me in the eye

and mutter

they are leaning on you british style

 but why?

 the tv overtalks which they use constantly

I quote just now

'pump some more then send us the stories

The Eastenders'

 I do not send the stories

the lab St Barths Human Research

sends them through its cheats

 The directed thefts of all my stories and diaries

were written at Sheffield University Writers Group

at Sheffield Polytechnic B. Ed English specialism Course

 At Forest Gate writers groups

at Whitechapel writers groups

at the University of East London and other Universities

 The bossess spends hours and hours they say

sitting at her computer mixing and matching

their illegal processing of us

 with their own dirty stories (we will use ourselves)

instead of caring for the retarded and needy

which is supposed to be their real job for which they are paid

 to ensure all the lab members

who have used use, robbed us and written my work

cannot be caught..there are no crimes for them

 I have been celibate for over a decade

and my 'pumping'- in my language, love making

was barely enough to cover one poem even!

 Address the lab-  East Enders. Not me.

one of their most evil men, hotted up the file

saying we were too boring!

 GIVE THEM SOME STICK..

 They are knocking seven bells out of you-

several of their criminal friends

invited to try out any tortures

literally...'use it' they say on the phone

have commented

(we are 'it' not people)

 They call it

giving some stick, our way

It is meant to shut you up

The jewish doctor Meyer

who took drawings home

to his wife and his niece

who sold them to Topshop

drawings I had done

visiting a Synagogue

and from my mother's stories

of old Bratislava

-said all this

This doctor knew

we had fed jews

back in Bratislava

I ought to mention that

 Since my return from China

to my family

sons and ninety year old mum

the level of pain therapy

as one wit calls their torture

stick is just another word for torture

but as stick is given in the West

by jewish doctors

it can't be called torture, do you see?

 The pain level of the all night probes

is so high now

I wake up with my face yellow

They put the shock on all night too

that was Wolf, the german, scientist's invention

yes, ofcourse the germans are in it up to their necks..

squeezing heart valves, lung and the other stuff

for the brits on request

 not surprising really

Hitler called the scientists for a little competition

to see who could kill the jews the quickest

(that's why we fed and clothed those we could

though we had seven children in our family)

They say that jewish psychiatrists then

used these things on german patients

so the tables were turned at the camps

(They should have caught the doctors responsible)

Now the jewish doctor Meyer does the same to us

only they like to hit friends

every night

every night

getting worse each night

that way she will forget..?

 How do you prove a remote probe

used beyond endurance

year in year out.

 I wrote to the medical Council at the top

they wrote me a stupid letter back

telling me to go to a doctor!

(doctors often tend to imagine

no other human have any brains by the way

it is a common fault of theirs)

I went to see a lawyer

a famous lawyer at that

known for being sympathetic

he said: go to a doctor.

Without the detail

I told a woman lawyer

The lab didn't answer her letters

and that was that.

 That's what happened to women

in the States

who dared to complain..

then they were put back

with the men who had tortured them

though the States does try to monitor

we are like those women

We have no real home

made stateless by the big three

They belonged neither to Africa

nor to the States wholly

 If I told the Chinese

what they do in Brittania

they wouldn't believe me

do you know that..

some of them feel guilt

at all the shouting about and at them

and haven't a clue

what the maniacs over here do -

secretly

endlessly

without ever stopping

with our Ministry's knowledge

and some of the Government too

to the population at large

and to some in particular

 They haven't learnt yet from the Brits

secrecy and cunning...

 All a woman of sixty-two can do

is try to continue each day

as the pain in the morning subsides

knowing the women at the lab torture

without ever caring a hoot

hope at least friends on the net

will read and listen

-people rarely do

 Sometimes during lessons I give

they put a probe on to my cranium so hard

the pain becomes unbearable

(It's like someone bashing your head

with a stick non stop)

that's a guy called Green from Redbridge

from the south London Liberal Synagogue

they say with massive sadistic tendencies

and is now on full pay

but not at work

as he wouldn't stand inspection

 He took my paintings home for his daugher Fay

from the damned machine

to copy and his wife copied

our refugee stories for the Woman's World

as jewish refugee stories!

After she had falsified our signatures

filling in the forms of permission

to be used as volunteers and patients

exactly as Hitler's mob had done

(they cry about that, yet do the same-

and why us, we helped them?

It is beyond me to understand)

They copy paintings I did

after Synagogue lectures

that is the most amazing thing of all

Innuendo she said, that was all

innuendo...

(they tell us remote

using tv, music and all sound vehicles)

and then broke my foot..remote of course

after which their Mustafa

broke my arm socket for me..

 and I have to face another night

remote probes bashing

will he knock my cranium in tonight?

It is called weakening the threat

hopefully - they think-

for an early death.

It works very well

as the victim goes through the day

looks normal

just a little sicker than yesterday

in more pain

not even the people you live with

appreciate what is happening

the bruised organs are all inside

nothing is visible on the outside

just a little sicker than yesterday

stumble to teach

the springy step gone for ever

Nothing abnormal

nothing to be seen.

 It is ten p.m. already...........

 OFFSET BY BANK CHARGES

 banks were told

that behavioural science

no, it is not proper human research

St Barths lab

were experimenting

The banks permitted it

though we are their customers

 The lab could hack

into our accounts

what little money we had

and roll it

to their own advantage

The banks would try tricks

which could not be detected

move our money into others accounts

as the german woman banker

who took one thousand from my account

and put it into a german woman's

as part of the experiment

closing the loopholes for the brits

It would take a book

to describe all the thieving

the lab committed on our family

as an experiment they said...

 I sold the family home

ten thousand is for us a lot of money

a woman alone with kids

and ancient refugee parents, scared

they took it out of bank after bank

such is the financial state

in this wonderful Britain

were helpless women

are robbed by labs

thousands taken over the years

 as they pretend to be science

they offset each crime committed on us

by giving the nation something

 robbing us

as we are so vulnerable

leaving the kids literally starving

letting each asian lab member health worker

take out of our accounts

as they pleased

they ordered the bank charges be changed

(we try to do some good

so no one wants to get us!)

 If we go abroad

they do the same to us there

It is called a programme

because they bashed us to smitherenes

are scared of being caught

they ensure everyone else bashes us too

 The brits never change..

 MERSEYSIDE LIVER BIRDS AGAIN..

 The Liver Birds

Mersey you mean

yes..yet again

 it came through yesterday

the lab emails it

all your work

she gives us to use

 this time

it even includes your letters

from China

and those love letters

to your husband

stories about your children growing up

about their grandparents and your grandparents

about you and those about you

in those blue school exercise books

taken by the lab directed thefts

by their ten lab thieves

 Lab members get the work straight

to print as it stands

others have it mixed

with dirt written by the lab bossess

evidently she has a mind like a sewer

and they decided to punish me

for their own misdeeds

so get this

they try to give me their illnessess

their misfortunes

their weaknesses

and their dirt...

-they thought that one up

we'll make the victims of our crimes

pay for our crimes

and the government and Ministry agreed

so they would not have to pay compensation-

 they call that mixing and matching

so that there is every variation out there

and if I should ever write or paint anything

it will be old hat and over used work

the lab told the liver birds:

we were all committed!

 (gosh

must tell my daughter

Principal of a College

son

top Engineer of an American company

and the rest

and me too

committed?

I teach College and University)

 that was eight years of my writings

often written in my bed at nights

which the junior Health Minister copied too

given by the lab

 and a black girl too

 well, just put they came out of darkest Africa

instead of Hungary..

same difference

when it is Behavioural Science

destroying literature and people

 all through the lessons

of Hanuf and Sameesa and the rest

to which the Pakistani's at the lab listen to

not having had an education

to see what they can glean

 (they used to use the frustrator during lessons

for years and years

that is, they irritate your womb

told me today

they were going to say

'why do you constantly feel like that'?)

 Just as Anna of the lab St Barths

used to listen to my mum and dad

when they chatted to each other

(Simon Telewny and wife

political satirist known world wide)

Only bl**dy foreigners

after all

and all of them

so vulnerable

so old

with her remote machine

and then went to talk to the Ministry

she serviced

to impress them

with old Simon's opinions

after they had told her

'not too bright gel..what

but ok with your over the desk'......

 Our whole family

taken prisoners

slowly destroyed

one by one

and manslaughtered.

 As I type over microsound

''you let them.''

 YOU WHAT...........?

 It is unprovable

that is why they use it..

that is why their fellows

over in the States

gave them the methods

outlawed

and the machinery

but I will not be cowed..

 even though their newpaper cheats

write up my stuff

for their leaders

knowing full well

I too worked on a newspaper

as did my dad..

 Ah, the evil these cowardly brits do

and say it is now global!

can't take on anyone their own size

strike faceless in the night

without owning up

remote..

 They say now they are going to try

to take down son-in-law's family

Brahmin's in India

Disasters to happen to them too

remote..

with love from England.

 NEW STARS AND STARLETS

 All things are found in literature..

all life is repeated in literature..

 The Mafia of Sicily was cancerous

to its society

to its inhabitants

to the land it inhabited

 Merit meant nothing

Talent meant nothing

Work meant nothing

The Mafia gave you your profession

as a gift

for its own uses...

 The Lab St Barths Human Research London

is cancerous

to its society

to its inhabitants

to the land it inhabits

 Merit means nothing

Talent means nothing

Work means nothing

The lab gives you your profession

as a gift

for its own uses..

 They have neither skill

nor do they understand anything

as they lie to all about them

 Once people paid to come to England

it gave prestige to come to England

the talented and the rich came here

 Now anyone can come to England

just spin a good tale

or hide away and claim

 and those who have money

flee this country

its corrupt top stays silence about the truth.

 ..and the lab?

' the brutality will come through

it will be heard and known with time ...'

'No, we will begin to do good works..' I quote

 so, more Autobahn to be built.....

'We have a surfeit of population' he said

Let the secret experiments on the population begin

 That's where it all began..

fine, we understand that

but why destroy us

hard working

clever and talented

That's the rub

and let's not mention a certain lady...

 SOME FOLKS, LISTEN

 Listen.........

 not all Christians are white

not all Whites are Christians

 not all Muslims are brown

not all brown people are Muslims

 not all Africans are wild

not all wild people are Africans

 not all Chinese people are communists

not all communists are Chinese

 the ' not all' continues

without end...

 so listen to that person first.

Some folk listen….

 A ONE HUNDRED PERCENT FIRST

 in this circling

of all crimes

to test the arm

of the lab St Barths research

 so they can rule the land

in their way

not that of justice

and honesty

 compensation of course is circling

Although one of the best pupils

at Grimsbly Art College

They 'over used' my lecturer

at the next Art College

It is called manslaughter

and not he alone

He had to give me a fail..

 Then Scotts Francene

who works at the lab

copied all my poetry as hers

guaranteed sales by the lab

so when I did my Institute

Language test,

paid for by a grant by the Council

so sure were they of success..

I am a mother speaker by the way

They took it out of the post

.....having asked a director

whose name they say is similar to mine

who gave the lab permission

to rob all post from my post

told him that they were doing an experiment

(white coats and telephone calls

are always believed)

hundreds of letters

presents to grandsons...

and sent another test paper instead

a fail...

 Reduce, reduce, reduce

(as the german said

a true Hiterite reduction

to the death, as were those

with added british cunning )

having told a director

of the Institute of Education

that they were doing an experiment

(white coats and telephone calls

are always believed)

 Over the tv

they always tell me the real marks

not the bogus fails they force

so the Institute of Linguists

was a credit, seventy percent

and as  all my marks are Oxford marked

that would be higher than it seems

(that is supposed to be a present

to be Oxford marked in all things!

Secretly!)

Art College also

Masters a second in reality

and Bachelors a first..

 (they used Chris

an oxford grad

would be lover of the lab bossess, Anna

who wrote two books of my poems from the lab

as a pressy from Anny

-and a Tyne Tees Lecturer

to help them sort this out)

 to make up for all this messing

and murdering of lecturers

they now have to do the opposite

 a lab friend needed a first

to go on to what she wanted to do

so they helped her with all she wanted to know

so that she got a perfect first..

this lying cheat

now has the title of:

a clever girl..

yeah, clever indeed.

Knows whom to butter up.

The lab has done this same cheating

for several of the women hangers-on

all of their cheats are protected

and their are so many of them now!

 Let's hope it doesn't end up like the earlier one

Pam of the Ministry of Pensions

who upped my old mums tax

to millionaire level

Pensioners with nothing but hard work

rebuilding the heavy industry of this country for them

had a daughter studying German

I am trilingual since childhood

so they gave her all my notes

(which was ridiculous

as there was an english version in the Goethe)

I just naturally translate in my head

and then gave Pam's daughter a first..

 Poor girl got a job in a Bank

then couldn't understand the german clients..

 I hated Hitler

he was a destroyer

hiding under the guise of help...

because he and the lab St Barths research

here in England

were and are as one..

but you know

when you hear the truth of things

you can understand why-

why people worked for him..

He needed ability

but sadly, he went mad..

 If only Anna of St Barths Lab

and our government which knows exactly

what that super-evil female is doing

would go mad

as the people she sends mad

and join them in her own place of hell.

Some of her own workers

have said the very same thing.

Who would have thought England

was so corrupt.......

 certainly not we!

 This time, it

was Libby....

 WHO IS ALBERT

 Sitting here at my computer

this message comes through

using microsound..

 Microsound as BBC2 told

is aimed from a computer

at your co-ordinates

at sound higher than human hearing

The lab uses this all the while.

 No I am not deaf

but the Lab St Barths research do not help people

they use technology

to teach people how to steal and lie

and steal, lie, cheat and kill for their own pockets

to feather their own nests

how to destroy all that is decent and hardworking

They are the horror dictators of this generation

again

just as in Auschwitz camp five

which is the real reason why there is so much unrest.

 "This is Albert

I thought I could make use of your life's work

and I have...

You don't know who I am

Go to the beginning...........

You can't because you don't know what it is.

 We are invited into a studio

A machine has all your life's work

painting, sketches, stories, plays, poems

University Essays all of it

Everything is used time and again

by anyone they want

and we are all weak and cheats..

we are allowed to rob whatever we want

You are not considered as humans

nor as having any Rights what so ever..

You are considered as their toy, their lab rat

because they have used you for terror and pain

for over twenty two years now..

Remember all those they have killed in that time

and be thankful..

the old whore of the Health Ministry

the new murderers in white coats

just as we saw them before

The media, just as during Hitler

led by the nose of this dictator.."

 For this privilege

of robbing your work

and torturing your family

in every way possible

we had you raped several times

in your fifties..

that was our compensation

(in our past

women who were raped repeatedly

went mad)

 "I am going to go public

that is Lee the 'Pustules' man

but I will tell lies about you in my paper.

We make out that you are a mindless retard."

 What a miserable creature you are Albert!

 GENIUS

 They seek genius here

they seek genius there

 and most of us academics

know quite a lot about the subject

 One thing not reported

from the secret labs St Barths research

 the machine America

gave them to get them out of trouble

 can hype your brain up a notch

whilst you are on the machine

 and it might activate cancer

if you have that in you

 they also found

when one of their Pakistani toilet cleaners

 tried to hype up his brain

little happened and ofcourse he complained

 sadly, if you do not have the natural stuff there

the machine can't raise you any further

 It can only increase to its full capacity

what is already in existance

 We are all different

God made us so

 so, sadly, these 'expert' Asians, former health workers

have to be hoiked up artificially in their lab

 Poor England being run by such a mob!

Incidentally, the machine can make you forget things..

 all things are temporary on the machine

sexual highs all of it

 as soon as you are off the machine

the extra hype disappears

 even if you are a Majesty!

 KEEP CIRCLING

 This secret queen who rules

who maybe thinks to emulate

the earlier Elizabeth the first

but sadly brings no honour

Anna of the lab St Barths

they said today so not my words

I always admit a quote

(having been properly educated note)

 '..is like a rat

with the plague

who will not stop

until everyone is smitten with the plague

or she drops dead..'

 'Has all been circled?'

she asks even the purple

so all is circled

but like myself

this test of their powers

is meaningless to normal folk

 All is circled goes like this

a secret programme being run

chaos theory shake everything up

with the new technology

of energy displacement

anything is possible

 all their crimes have to be repeated

in different ways to cover the first crime

so for instance

we now have the second pavarozzi

 or for instance

Harcourt is now repeated

The first was a Head teacher

who gave a third for a first from the machine

(with lab persons, this is now normal)

now Harcourt is repeated

(yes, it is world wide

few have resisted this evil)

 most will think it coincidences

but if you keep records

and know of what has gone on over the years

you will find that all is repeated

and the media plays with them

We had always trusted the B.B.C.

 and it goes on and on

like a bad play which will not end

He had warned his President

but be aware

it will really shake everything up

As someone said the other day

Brown is on their machine

so don't look for relief with him

 The lab keeps pushing theirs to the top

the stupid and the mediocre

No it doesn't shock us

chicken farmers once ruled Germany

with Hitler in charge

and the plague ridden rat

is exactly like her twin

 But Anna of the lab has America

and all its technology

He had not learnt the one thing

she knows to do so well

to smile, smarm or bed

anyone she needs

which order I do not say

 They tell me to talk-

you know the truth

you've known the truth

for a long, long time

why don't you talk

and so do plenty of others

know the truth

including my government

and the governments of others

hoping all will pass by

with a few patronizing gestures

don't ever tell me again

leaders are there to serve us!

why don't they talk

the grease on their palms

might thin and disappear....

 They tell me the lab St Barths

only tells a small amount

to each person it uses

That is its safety measure.

    THE GODFATHER

 In literature

you find it all

 reading the Godfather

I found this little tale

 'we wanted to be American

so we did as Americans did

 but they did not respect us for it

and abused us and destroy our lives'

 It echoes ours exactly

but we have no one to tell

 Coming here, we wanted to be british

so we did as british did

 expected to become part of them

expected their law to care for us

 Then their most evil attacked us

in every possible evil way

 you are so vulnerable

so boringly good they wrote

 just as the Godfather said

we found it doesn't work that way

 But we have no Godfather

to help us here

 Only our honesty and hard work

most of our people long gone over the pond

 Hard work?

I don't like to blow my own trumpet

 but shortly you will again for the umpteenth time

watch my ideas and phrases on Eastenders yet again

 The lab St Barths has had us as lab rats

to torture and rob and kill since eighty four

 on  their machine given them by the States

Nothing new has been found but much drowned

 except how to abuse more corruptly

such brilliant technology abused

 First they gave fails

and killed my lecturers

(sorry it's called manslaughter)

 then they gave low marks

It, that is me,  is the lab plaything now used for practice

 Not a human to us so called lab crap

But we are humans

 Then they decided

all we do and have done, is theirs

 besides using us for torture wholesale

'The Royals sadly chose the side of evil

 so can not now get out of it'  I quote this..

So again, more of my ideas

 will ring out of Eastenders

The L.A. Jew who designed this

 ordered this - make her work a household name

then she can never talk and yours will never be caught

 and so they did and have

as they continue torture to do

 Now a new twist

the directed thefts

 all work used is robbed

from our little two up two down

 so I can never prove its origins.

They say this is for England's future

 They say the jews of the lab began it

scared of being caught for what they had done

 and then it was continued

and will be continued

 raising their mediocre friends from nothings

such a corrupt country as Nero burns

 It is a sad world we came to

worse in many ways than Hitler's and Stalin's

 There at least we knew what and how to fight

and how and whom they were murdering

 The English do everything in secret

from killing their highest

 Should I tell all I know whom will they damage

Plenty of others know, -so you got away with it all?

 but history teaches us

England was always so

 Secrecy is so the population will not find out

as all the lab would all serve life sentences

 Secrecy is so it will not be found out in the future

as then the reputation of the country would suffer

 Strange country we came to

Wish we had a Godfather to help us..

 and the reason for this massive secret programme

against the population?

 seems totally pointless for anything

except the using of pure evil.

 we've seen it all before, where we came from..

when people do great injustices

 they always seek to convince themselves

that what they have done is just

 the writers are told

that they research, wished me to begin anew

 Told as I walked by Princess Alexandra Hospital

I must become a high class Prostitute by their boss

 heck, I was fifty and had had five children

crazy people, running a secret sex programme

 One day I might spill what they do in hospitals

especially as I nursed people there

 The devil incarnate

here in London...

 ..and sadly, I had no Godfather, only Godmothers

Dr. Milada Cernackova and Maria Simkova

 who baptised me in the chapel at Zochova Uliza

27th May the russians were in Bratislava

 and newly born mites were baptised quickly

whilst they still could.

 There were no men left!

  THE BLACK DEATH

They call it the 'Full-Monty'

It is what they do

when a government department

has made a very bad mistake

which within the population

would be called a crime

and that crime is discovered.

 With modern technology

and the friendly americans

who give away secrets

far too easily

to anyone at all

bless them

the full Monty

means just that

 and step by step

just as in Camp Five

(not for nothing

did the jewish scientist

in the States

refuse to take part..

It is just like

Camp Five, this

he said, no way)

 Now it is pustules

One Indian at the lab

wanted to prove

a mole could be made cancerous

(on me, on the machine)

I am not considered a human

they tell me

whilst sighing about

Auschwitz

The same jews we had saved back then!

 Before I set off for China

to teach there for a bit of a rest

though I love my tiny two up two down

little miners cottage

here on the foot of the Pennines

they put on the machine

on which I am kept prisoner

Pustules and sores

 Huge red pustules appeared on my hands

with thick yellow matter in them

then on my legs

My chinese pupils were very brave

not once mentioned them

I could not hide them

writing on the board..

slowly they dried in the chinese sun

Though someone on high

did say rather sharply

'do we really need the plague?'

 This is a favourite trick of the lab

using China for alsorts of pusillanimous acts

Once they took out my hair by half

which is what they do to the retarded

as punishment

from the machine

then tried to blame it on Chinese shampoo

and Lynne at Hommerton

carried on long after I returned to England

a few, a few, a few

just as they work

a few crimes, a few crimes, a few crimes

and no one will ever notice..

 The Pakistanis who run this show now

toilet cleaners and health workers originally

now being given the heights

exams all passed and all that crap

which the lab does in fact

merely laughed

(I quote them:

We hacked your bank account

and took five thousand for ourselves)

this is what happens in OUR country

Here we are allowed anything

It is so delicious

to torture elderly white teachers..

Anything at all

torturing british whites

 Last night he adding:

I have been torturing for Anna

of the Lab St Barths

for five years

and this country is much, much

much more corrupt than ours.

Well, I had always told them that

We have the two extremes here.

 The spite element?

always there with this lab

I had never suffered spots

and though not pretty as such

had always had totally clear skin.

 They now have new people in the lab

as they give the whole world

every advance the Americans had made

using us helpless useful citizens

TO THESE FOREIGNERS

They have a whole bevy of women

to use for their experiments

for them to practice on now

BRITISH CITIZENS

TOTALLY UNPROTECTED...

When patients died in the past

The Anna was heard to say

'they are so weak!'

 She gave permission the lab said

here is the form

here is her signature

but I never saw the form to read

I was never given any form

Nurse Hughes at West Ham Community Health

just yelled to sign or else

in May ninety-one..

 An East London solicitor

trying to find this form for me

after three solicitors had tried to find it

even found a form at St Barths

with my signature on it

Signed as I sat at the desk

of East London University

at a lecture on Business Studies

 Signatures and films

in England

are meaningless!

Putative thought that all is safe is mistaken

DON'T SIGN ANYTHING IN THIS COUNTRY

especially if it is a medical form - you think..

 My dad the writer Telewny

had Small pox as a kid in his native Ukraine

his face was pock marked

They were taken to a Gulag

for telling the truth

I remind myself

with each mark I look at from the pustules

nothing has changed!

 England will destroy the West

single handed.....

Nothing has changed.

 HISTORY

 Basically

Half of the history

of mankind

has been

ousting people out of their own place

 or ousting people who have come to stay

often for long periods

even of hundreds of years

in 'some one elses' place

often welcome for a while

 Consider, all through history

this has been the case

which is why

I would like to see a borderless world

having only one little twinge

 should a cow fly with a butterfly

should a snake give milk

should bird pull a plough

should a fish stand guard

should a worm fly to the sky

 people are likewise types

from places which are types

to which they have become suited

to which they build an inner attachment

which is built into them

 what balance are upsetting?

 When as a girl

come to the shores of England

(not of our own will, but invited)

longed to be like this new nation

having been a refugee and orphan

moving onwards since life's begin

emulated them in every way

went to Church of England schools

attended Church of England church

 Mavis from over the road

sternly spoke to me

"Renate Telewny

do not imagine you can be english

you will have to stay for three generations

then we will give consideration

if it is possible for yours

to join this nation."

 I had not listened properly

yet time and again

the same hammer was beaten

the same gong sounded

Now at last I have to listen!

 THE LABOUR PARTY ANEW

  She doesn't talk of what she knows

She won't say openly what is going on

She picks carefully what she reveals

She  is too close-mouthed

 We can't catch her out

We can't ridicule her

We can't destroy her reputation

We can't make her talk

 Get her to join the Labour Party again

We will get her to talk

To tell the truth of what is going on

To tell all she knows

 Then we'll get her on that one

Once a cheerful happy soul

Friendly to everyone

Chatty and trusting

 Do these English have any idea

what we come from

what it was like

to survive under Hitler and Stalin

 Exactly, BUT EXACTLY, like living here

on the machine of St Barths Human Research

which has no laws but its own

exactly as it was then....

 They call it an opportunity

to try out what  they please however evil

exactly what Hitler called it

Exactly what Stalin did.

 DID SHE REALLY SAY THAT?

 because you never talk about people

we did it for you

it was another of the damages

we put you through.

 The Ministries and their mistress

ensure no jobs mainstream

for our family

as they cannot afford

the scandal

incase someone, anyone

heard the truth.

 so a tiny, one man business I ran

often very successful

too successful

for the Ministries and their mistress

 It grew on my reputation

for good value

promises upheld

and total trust

as has always been the case.

 In old Bratislava

the massive jewish tailors

knew they could trust

the work of the little Hungarian

knew that he would never cheat them

no matter what happened

 ....and before that

our family was successful

as servants to our aristocratic families

Sumeg or where ever

as we could be trusted

it has always been the case

no matter what happened

 My clients

mainly Muslims

like the same qualities

so the lab had to break that trust

 "we destroyed your business

in this simple way

and other ways.."

 You never gossip

...I don't feel the need to

I write and paint

read of things and listen to music

I can't remember the nuns our mothers

gossiping when I was a child

with fifty and more children to care for

to grow our food and care for our home

why waste time in gossiping...

there are so many interesting things to do..

so we did it for you.

 Used by the lab

were the worst of RMN's

It makes me wonder

what exactly these women do

in their hospitals

 They tell me

stirring up trouble

destroying people

causing misery

is their job.

 I seem to remember

our nuns tried to make us happier!

 I wonder what that lab said I'd said.....

No I don't

They have nasty minds

It is better not to stoop as low

as those who live in evil deeds.

 ABOUT BABY GIRLS

 This is not my story

but there is a similarity

The words are not mine

but I will repeat them

to make people aware

even if they don't like to hear..

 This happens to so many little girls

from very tiny on

men, often from the same family

work them with their finger

constantly from babyhood

until the rupture is not noticed

 They then use them for themselves

Big brothers, uncles, nephews, men..

Often when these girls marry

Their new husbands beat them

However hard we try

it is impossible to keep our girls safe

say the mothers..

 I personally know of one woman

whose mother put her bed next to an old man

On her wedding morning to her young cousin

she was found in a pool of blood

 He has beaten her ever since

Though she was and is an excellent wife

even when she was holding their baby

till blood ran from her head

onto their baby

He blames her.

 One man answered this charge

This man is a professional at the lab

where several child rapists are employed..

Every man wants a young thing

not some woman

so we make them our own from birth.

 Babies and children are helpless

I left my children's home nuns at nearly eight

to come to live with a forgotten mother

and her new husband

in a new country..

underfed-

the size of a three year old they said

- thin and scared.

 She would send me in to the room of another man

'take uncle a cup of tea'

then took the silver he gave me away

He would sexually abuse me

constantly.

Later I hid.

 I could not tell her

I was a stranger to them

She was a stranger to me

I could not tell my new father

he was even a different nationality to me

as was the man

who was the same nationality as my new father.

I couldn't tell my new countrymen

They were different to me

I was a foreigner..

 My mother was a clever woman

but stupid in the wickedness of the world

a little, rich girl

educated by private Convent.

 When at sixteen a man really fell in love with me

had not touched me

wanted to marry me

she asked the doctor to do a virginity test

What the hell for

I was healthy and clever

The Italian lived a long way away

and anyway wanted to marry me

begging for one long year to do so.

 Though a Star Fighter pilot

the Italians had taken her beloved Tyrol!

I have to tell you something funny here

We also are part Italian in part of our family

her paternal grandmother's name was Bertodi!

Such a silly, with her passion for her Austria

-explanation, her mother was Austrian.

 Girls are always alone

Girls are rarely believed against adults

Girls are not believed by adults

Girls are helpless

Girls are smaller

Girls who are small are picked on

Girls are taught to obey

 I admire the girls, unlike me

who are lippy, mouthy and noisy, shouty..

I know they are safer girls

than the quiet girls, like me.

 I taught my own daughter to speak out.

These poor little mites

are having this happening NOW

Right NOW

this day

this moment

NOW

They have no way out

and many, many, many people know about it.

 I will get a bad name repeating it

I do not care

I know how much I suffered

So I know how much they suffer.

It is time doctors and others did something.

I begin to despair at doctors

 One of mine began a life of horror for me and mine

diagnosing a stress headache as an extra need for sex

(with five children?) which he said he had..

and to cover some of his odd actions

gave our name to Research to use as they wished, secretly..

 For crying out loud

what are doctors supposed to be for..........

 PLAGER ENOUGH

 quotes at 2.15 p.m. on Saturday over the t.v.

transmissions constantly broken into..

besides microsound

(sound on computer broken up and replaced on coordinates)

 If we plager her enough

she can't do anything about it.

Give them Rights to her work

 We had to destroy your heart

(you can feel when they press your heart valves

Four years ago I had one hundred percent health

and the British don't torture?)

 We did that to your mother and father

It is so we can say it is a family thing

Every torture possible was tried on you

There is no way you can prove it

there is no way you can stop us

We call it weakening you.

 We destroy absolutely everything

we don't count the cost

you are not a human being for us

not even a subhuman

we watch what can be rebuilt

 Unfortunately you won't play our game

No body knows

but everybody knows

we put it on films and ads

 Have you been seeding clouds

Yes, if you see it on films

believe it

we order the films to be made

a gradual introduction...

 ALAN GARETH – TEA LEAF

 Al came to the lab

Al took forty five paintings

from the machine at the lab

(they give all I do out

from that machine

from which they torture daily..

would that the americans

had kept their discoveries

in their well policed country)

all of them mine, sitting illegally at the lab

St Barths Human Research

 Al was asked by Anna

Mistress of Ministers and Civil Servants

who had used the new technology indiscriminately

amongst the people without telling

finally making a mistake

which many on high saw

 Anna asked Al

mix and match with yours

blend and personalise her work as yours

that is what they all have to do

later with directed thieving

we will rob all they have-

a poor lone mum with kids

 Anna had already put the order out

prison for the kids

having destroyed the family background

(it is called a live experiment they say?)

any pretext

two weeks for speeding

and three months in a category B

(rapists and murderers)

for a nineteen year old

standing guard for a friend pinching videos!!

(doesn't matter what for

once on record)

 Did you know the brits were so cruel

we certainly didn't

we refugees

poached from Australia

to come here in the forties

worked hard

never did any wrong

lived in poverty

for this freedom..

that's a laugh now

Yet they give terrorists who despise them

every freedom..

 (If I wern't a decent person

I'd laugh at them)

I have in my second book

which the lab has robbed from everywhere

along with the first

printed the copy of a form

the promise Britain made to us

if we would only come and live here and work

if we were respectable citizens

we would be treated as such

such liars...

 such liars they are

you all know

I loved the nuns of Bavaria

the mothers of my childhood at both Homes

the sharp and sweet of them

but they should have told me the truth

not glorified this place they were sending me to

Only the boys told the truth

fifty boys and five girls we were

and three nuns to care and grow for us

they said seven foot men on huge steeds

in red coats on horses would come and hunt me

and chase me into a corner into a hole...

 rather like the dreams I had later

when I had to run across a blackened Europe

on our bellies to save my last son

take him to my children's home in Bavaria

empty when we got there

he was safe

but a thousand green hands

dragged me under all night..

 and as for my new mum

with her glorious ideas of the Empire and the british

Couldn't they have guessed in old Royal Hungary

how the Empire was won

So much is never won by kindness

it is taken.......

thieves, thieves, thieves

that is what they said Esther Rantzen had said

then they beamed a mucky film

(supposed to be of me but yous all know me better)

into her studio

so that the woman I had stuck up for

also turned against me

Bad judges these jews!

 Nor at my C. of E schools

(where I was pretty happy- I liked school)

we did lots of stories about the Empire

little black men up trees throwing down coconuts

and I painted the pictures to go with the stories

and nasty evil Bible stories

going on in Israel, not here

but I forgot

my grandad had said

England is built on the money of the Jews..

and he knew

we had a man from the woollen industry

he came yearly to sell us navy blue

for the jews whom we clothed

back there in old Bratislava,

No one told the truth ever.......

 Now alan is having an exhibition of my work

with a line or two of his in it

with directed thieving

the young people

the slim young girl with black hair

living close by

taught by the lab to be thieves

(the only thing the lab teaches

is how to cheat, thieve and worse)

are now going to copy the paintings in my books

thieved by them

directed by the lab

 (the lab has used about ten thieves

I quote them)

 sektches of my daughter's godfather's suicide

they used to live in the opposite barrack to us

there at Warsaw Hamlet Refugee Camp

on the Lincolnshire Wolds

of our journey to the West

of our deaths and our lives

of bridges crossed

of orphanages and children's homes on the way to here

of all the horror we have gone through

(mustn't say, the English don't like it..

I was told over and over again)

which had never been spoken of before

we never speak of it

none of us

it sits in our hearts

so now english are robbing it all

to make money from our pain

 so finally I had put it all into paintings

though some at the College didn't like them

the Head Faulkner would smile

'well little Mrs artist, what today?'

 all done whilst at Art College

here in Sheffield our home

where they over tuned my lecturer

and a few more

(it's called manslaughter)

 Al the thief is a cheat

as are all those the lab sponsored..

a country full of cheats

 the boy who was tuned to steal all our histories

finds it is too foreign

he doesn't know how to use it

yet..

the lab used passage after passage

directed constant theft

is their cover...

  when it is all over

their Doctor Meyer had thought

we will return it all back to the home

as though nothing has happened...

 you were not supposed to write

or have been a real painter

we just didn't check anything

we never check anything

 and we chose this for our home?

 WOT PARTY?

 to all those of you

who have read

Semen Telewny's work

 to the Ukrainian millionaire

who wanted to sponsor him

to come to America

 and then stupidly

took him to the underground

in New York

 and frightened the daylights

out of him

a Kulak and a small town guy

 and those who knew Hilda

who though a terrible tempered

Hun who would fight anything

 but not now at ninety..

with her memory gone

but healthy and hearty in a way

 please know

regards recent issues

SHE WAS NEVER A MEMBER OF THE NAZI PARTY!

SHE WAS NEVER A MEMBER OF ANY PARTY..

 I  am the party member not she

of the Socialist Party..

and my dad wrote about the Parties

and their many foibles

 he used to say

young a communist

middle aged a liberal

old a conservative!

 Hilda's great delight had always been

that she had never once

raised her hand in salute

 though she had spoken to some of the mightiest!

(Hun's are a bit mad

even Hitler's mob realised that)

 and as a family

we live and have always lived by honesty

which is not always appreciated by liars and cheats

 end of that trial.

Now they have given me horrendous sores

Still claiming we are volunteers!

 PROVE IT SAYS THE TORY....

 MINISTERS AND MISTRESSES

 IT would take

just a few laws

to take away

the total power

which Ann of the lab

St Barths Human Research

the old concentration camp system

of Auschwitz, Belsen and the rest

and to leave them powerless

or controlled..

 to which she adds

"George of the New York lab'

has been been on the line

severel times.

If he thinks

we will help him again

he has another think coming."

 I seem to remember

it was George of the New York lab

who came to the assistance

when the London lab

has set off the alarms

at Santa Monica

and committed

gross crimes

international and national.

 George would have done well

to remember the past

Churchill in thirty nine

stood up in parliament

and said

'No jews, unless rich..'

personally, I think

they are all of them cracked!

 Should Blair have a third term

Anna of the lab St Barths was asked

No, he must go..

King maker and breaker now

as well as murderers?

 ETHEL OF SURBATON

   Ethel says she lives a life of comfort

Ethel says it is all due to the work given

Ethel copies all my twenty years of work to the word

 Ethel had one or two small successes before my stuff

Ethel had all her work returned from printers

Ethel copied exactly as told by the lab

 Ethel now sells all her stuff mainly to the t.v.

Ethel still copies all my stories and all sell

Ethel is also on the machine at the lab St Barths....

 Ethel wasn't ashamed when I saw her

Ethel was at my end of town

Ethel didn't recognise me from their illegal processing

 Ethel didn't have to run for lunch between teaching

Ethel should maybe come to East Ham College to see me

Ethel is too dishonest to do that and knows it....

 What with Ethel, Mrs Cricklewood

with Emma, with Brierley and all the rest--

we're allowed to destroy all the stuff given of yours

as for the devious Ernestine and Friedlander

the list goes on and on

 The stuff science can do now that I know of..

you think in the future you won't be known

as the cheats you are mix and matching or not

robbing University work and processing..

 Ethel, swaying her long brown hair

Ethel's hair is straight, unlike herself

Ethel, the cheat, now no longer has writer's block!

 and with the directed thieving

of all work from our tiny miner's house

and the wiping of half of my work off the computer

with their high power illegal lab computers

 Ethel need never worry

Ethel and the rest's cheating is covered

by the Lab St Barths Human Research....

 ALL FROM HER BOOKS..

 All this taking of words

all this taking of phrases

all this taking of sayings

 are they mad

are they sad

are they just bad

 simple idea by Ziegler of New York

(hope you had no cousins

in old Bratislava's jewish area

where we lived and gave to all)

barely known writer?

our writers pushed and raised to the top

 each newspaper

each type of book

each type of novel

every magazine

 no one will know

every one will think

all she has taken from all those books

though written long ago

into books much has been printed

 but don't worry

they are none of them professionals

the Americans told us how to do it

 If all professionals can do

is copy work

given them from a lab

which no longer cares for the retarded

 I am not sure what it is to be a professional

 TEENS..

 I have the need to share

something I have just been told over my t.v. remote

 presumably another research worker at St Barths

who abuses small children along with his co-workers

 There is no problem in this, he put over

They come when they are in their teens!

 Would this pervert male

like to let me know

 why our Creator, nature

what ever you like to call your God

 made childhood for?

just for his criminal lusts and those like him?

 Sorry guys, if I had the power,  I would have an answer

how to cope with you all so you never, ever did it again.

 UNBELIEVABLE

 Even Curry put some of it into her books

Even Blair used some in his speeches

They all came in and used it

Off the machine at St Barths Human Research.

 We thought you had signed

to be used

that is what we were told

no one checked!

 All those jokes were theirs

family jokes from all of them

right across the media

we sent them off in our names

 and all those opinions

we listen to you constantly

all are immediately sent off

here is another opinion/fact we say

 Why?

 The lab had tagged us illegally

nineteen eighty four

the bossess had given our work

to all her friends at the Ministries

 to curry favour she asked the politicians in too

do help yourself

our victims don't mind

they all came into the lab

 as all her staff had written down straight off the screen

and sent it to where ever they wanted

Monologues, stories and what ever

she had to cover them all

 Friedlander tells us today

he was told I was at an orgy

(I've only ever been to two parties

and they were no orgies)

and I don't want any of the work anyway

so he could use it all

 Then they added

Friedlander is an idiot

and all the rest of them

idiots to be used by such a scam

 so that way the lab is safe

by the total criminalisation of the whole country

to cover the gross misconduct

of one little gov. lab which should care for the retarded

 added the bossess

"I gave the Ministers and Civil Servants my body

they have to take care of me!"

Major didn't do anything, nor did Thatcher...

 Blair helped the criminals of criminals to crime

few know what he did to his country

such is western freedom. Artists artificially created.

Freedom for whom. Setting off international alarms

 gross misconduct used to be a crime

and they had already had a warning

 We (tv) had to ask

Did Prince Charles use her work too?

answer:

Yes!

 Yea Gods!

[fuzzy-w0rms]

did a commission for one of my irls! the characters are both theirs, and you can find their youtube channel here

[luminari-mc]

(Mammon x MC/Reader)

Prompt: "She doesn't compare to you. No one does.”

Genre: Angst, hurt(emotional)/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC/Reader x Mammon

Summary: You and Mammon finally get to enjoy a well-deserving shopping trip just between the two of you. Just as you are about to hit the next shop, your attention is caught by an image advertised in the street.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: I wanted to try my hands at a prompt that is tagged as "fluff", but of course I ended up turning it into something angsty instead. But I like sad stuff, so that still works for me.

-------------------------------------------

It wasn't often that you got to spend time with Mammon without having any of his brothers around to bother you. But you had made it very clear to them that these few hours after school would be spent with Mammon, and only him. And for today's trip, you two had decided to go shopping in one of the busiest streets in the Devildom.

Clothes and jewelry stores, malls- you had done them all. When most of this time had been spent doing window shopping, Mammon had still insisted on getting at least a few bags of purchased goods for each of you by the end of the day. After all, what was the point of going on a shopping trip, if you didn't end up emptying your bank account only to regret it later?

And so, thanks to the demon's wonderful influence, your arms had now several bags hanging off of them. There was a certain guilt still looming over your head as you realized way overboard you might have gotten with your purchases, but Mammon promised he would take care of any financial problems you could encounter in the near future because of that. You still wondered how he was going to manage it, him being Mammon and all...

"Damn, now THAT'S what I call a good haul! Look at ya!" The white-haired demon grinned as he watch you hop out of the store, the glass doors opening automatically at your presence to let you out. He placed his wrists on his hips as his own bags dangled in his hands. "What'cha got for yourself this time?"

"They actually had that jacket I saw in a magazine the other day!" The doors closed behind you as you showed the white bag which contained the jacket. "You were right, that store was amazing. I can't believe you never showed it to me before."

"Ha! Told ya the Great Mammon knew where the best treasures were! Consider it an exclusive info, because I ain't gonna share more if any of my brothers are around next time." Mammon turned around before flipping a few of his bags over his shoulder, as you instantly began to trot to get to his level.

"What? So all this time you knew about it and you didn't tell me? Just because Asmo comes with us sometimes?" You expressed shock, right before your eyebrows joined together. "Really, as if you couldn't have told me over text or something."

"And have you go without me?! Nah, ain't gonna happen- you'd just get lost and end up in the worst store possible." Mammon glanced your way, and you could only smirk at his poor excuse.

"Sure, you're right. I forgot that humans don't have the same flawless sense of orientation as demons do." Despite your obviously sarcastic tone, Mammon didn't seem to register it as he nodded at your words.

"Exactly! Even if I gave you the full address, who knows where you'd end up? I don't want ya to come and complain to me afterwards, so it's gotta be with me or nothin'."

Even as you rolled your eyes, you noticed Mammon's face slightly turning away from yours, probably to hide the extra shade of color that had appeared on his cheeks ever so discreetly. Even when he was in his usual tsundere mood, it was endearing to see how concerned he was for your safety. And just how badly he wanted to be alone with you.

"So, where to next?" You asked without really thinking, surprising yourself that even after your extensive purchasing, you still wanted to do more. Or maybe it was that you didn't want this date to end right away. The past few weeks had been nothing but the brothers interrupting each other when any of them found themselves alone with you, so getting to spend some alone time with one of them, especially with Mammon, deserved to be extended a bit more.

"Glad ya asked!" As if a battery had been plugged into him, the demon brandished his arm into the air, the bags swinging by his face and missing him by a few inches. "I got this whole place where they're sellin' tons of stuff for pretty cheap, but it's actually authentic branded things. See, they're actually sold to that one guy who then has to sell them to another guy, and..."

As you listened to Mammon explain how he was able to find "authentic stuff" (probably not that authentic, you were pretty sure about that) for less than a quarter of its original price, your eyes found themselves drifting to an impressive ad plastered on a building the two of you were walking by. Recognizing the habit of Majolish to put their models on display for everyone to see was pretty easy, but that wasn't what caught your eye in the moment.

What tuned Mammon down completely in your ears, were the models themselves. The second born, sitting on a stool with a ripped shirt and pants, a few accessories hanging off his neck and barely covering anything of his exposed chest. He looked serious, staring straight at the objective- and at you, while the light shined on him to completely capture his frame for the picture.

And sitting down in the middle of the shot, between his legs, was a female demon wearing a red leather dress, her head resting on top of Mammon's leg. The clawed hand dangling off his knee- covered in golden rings, seemed to taunt you, as well as the piercing yellow eyes she had. Saying she wasn't beautiful would be lying. In fact, she was absolutely stunning. A perfect model for a perfect shot. Just looking at her made you feel small, like a prey that was about to be devoured by a hungry beast, the longer you were looking at her.

But that's what demons were supposed to make you feel like, right?

"Hey!" Mammon called out from the distance he had put between the two of you since you had stopped walking beside him. "Yo, MC!"

Watching as you kept staring into nothing, Mammon rolled his shoulders with a furrowed brow before walking back toward you, his head tilting to the side as he noticed your dead expression.

"Huuh hello, Devildom to MC? In which realm did ya get lost this time?"

"They replaced it." The words that left your mouth were weak, almost too silent for him to hear. It's as if all of the energy you had had evaporated from your body in an instant.

"Huh?" Mammon grew a bit concerned at this sudden change. His eyes perked up at the ad you were looking at, as you continued.

"The shoot we did together." Finally, you spared yourself from the sight, your gaze dropping to the ground. "They already replaced it with another one."

As soon as Mammon understood why *this* ad in particular seemed to be upsetting you so much, his jaw was already clenching. He remembered the stars he had seen in your eyes the previous week when you saw yourself on the Majolish ad, posing beside him- a shoot opportunity you had gotten while accompanying him after RAD a few days prior. In the middle of his shoot, he practically didn't leave any choice to his agent and had insisted that you be included in the shots to promote one of the new pieces of jewelry the brand was planning to release in the upcoming months. Asmo, who was there to witness your reaction on that day the three of you went out, had even taken a hundred pictures or so of you posing in front of the ad.

Except that, the jewelry you had posed with, was now present on the new model posing alongside Mammon.

He had made sure to engrave that smile of yours in his head at the time, even going so far as to snap a picture of your face while you were too focused on Asmo to notice him. But now, there was absolutely no trace of that same happiness anymore.

"The fuck?" The snarl that left him shook the walls of his throat. "That wasn't supposed to be advertised before another month! Why'd they have to take ours so soon?!"

"It's okay, Mammon." The demon stopped growling as his eyes lowered on the hand that was clutching his arm. "I mean... I'm not a model. Figures they wouldn't put it up for long... I-I mean, look at me. Seriously, who would want to see my face being exposed for longer than they can bare? It's hard to imagine. I wouldn't probably have sold their product anyway, so... it's okay."

The look on your face was devastating. Despite trying your best to smile, the tears pricking in your eyes were threatening to roll down your cheeks at any second. Mammon felt his heart being stabbed with a thousand invisible daggers, he couldn't bear to watch you feeling insulted in such a way.

His bags were immediately dropped onto the floor, the demon no longer caring for any of the fragile items he may have bought. His hands swung forward to cup your cheeks, forcing your face up to look at him straight in the eyes.

"Hey hey, MC. C'mon, look at me."

You did your best not to let your vision turn blurry because of the upcoming tears, and stared back at Mammon, your bottom lip trembling weakly.

"I don't care what anyone, model agents or not, can say- you'd sell a thousand more times than any fuckin' models out there, okay? In fact, you're worth even more than their stupid jewelry!"

His thumb quickly brushed away a tear from the corner of your eye as his other hand came to rest on your temple.

"They just put that one up there because that model is famous. They don't care about what's really beautiful, they just want to boast their popularity to the rest of the world." The blue of his eyes seemed to radiate the closer he moved towards you. "But I know what's beautiful. And her? She doesn't compare to you. No one does."

You could only look down in shame as his hands never left you, closing your eyes shut to let a couple tears out before Mammon grabbed a tissue from his pocket to dry your face. He patiently waited a few seconds for you to calm down, soothing you with slow caresses of your hair until your shoulders stopped shaking.

"I'm sorry..." you muttered, sniffling as you passed a wrist over your eyes. "I don't know why that upset me so much..."

"Ya got nothing to be sorry about." Mammon retrieved his hands from your head, only to grab the bags that were hanging off of your arms. He somehow manages to hold them alongside his own behind him, before wrapping the other arm around your shoulder.

"Hey, I'd call this a day. How about I prepare ya a bath when we're home? Courtesy of the Great Mammon."

You nodded, your lips arching into a smile as you grabbed the hand hanging off your shoulder. The day was cut too short for your liking, but you didn't feel up for any additional purchases, or to properly enjoy your outing anymore.

"Will you wash my hair?" You entertwined your fingers with his as he gave them a gentle squeeze.

"Pah, of course! Who else but me could do that?" He huffed through his nose, shaking his head at such an obvious question. Your laugh ringing in his ears gave him a brief moment of respite.

But the demon furrowed his brows as he lead you into your walk back home, keeping you snuggled at his side. Holding the bags in his left hand, his white nails sharply digged into his palm the more steps he took alongside you.

Making them cry? Such a big, big mistake. One thing was sure, Mammon wasn't about to let that one pass.

"But before that..." The hiss that escaped his throat went unnoticed by the two of you as your head rested against his shoulder.

"I'll have a few calls to make."

[iamasimpingh0e]

Hi! Maybe you can do a Rafe Cameron x reader where it turns into an enemies to lovers type of thing 👀 shes a pogue and even though he treats her like the rest of the pogues when they’re around, he has always had a soft spot for her

MAYBE NOT TOO BAD

Rafe Cameron x (fem) reader

Words: 2680

Outerbanks...Paradise on earth, like John B. loves to say, doesn't sound too bad for most of the people. But if you're taking a second look at it, for some people it feels like the hell.

Especially for y/n. She used to live on the richer side of the island, figure eight. But now that her dad got into an accident at work and couldn't continue doing his job, they had to move down to the cut. Y/n doesn't blame her dad, she was just happy that he's alive and doing better now. But moving was hard for her. She had to go to a new school, where she didn't know anyone and leave her friends behind. Not that she had much friends in the first place. She was just used to hanging around the snobby kooks, who couldn't even wipe down their own ass. But after y/n and her dad left figure eight, it was like the kooks thought she was a completely different person. Maybe their little brains couldn't progress that personality mostly isn't made off of the money you have on your bank account. Okay maybe sometimes it's true. Especially for one person. Rafe Cameron .

Y/n used to see him almost everyday, back when she would hang out with Sarah and the rest of the clan that followed her and her boyfriend Topper around everywhere. You couldn't be one second alone with her, or at least it felt like that.

But it was no secret that the kooks hate the people, that can't afford to live in figure eight.

Y/n always thought Rafe could be a good friend, when he wasn't really on drugs at the moment. But she must have been wrong.

Back when she moved away from her old house, she saw him looking at her from down the road. She doesn't know for sure, but it looked like he was sad, she would move away.

But all that doesn't matter anymore. Now half a year later, she had found new amazing friends. The Pogues. They welcomed her with open arms, okay almost all of them, but one was a little rude at first.

Let me introduce you...

First there is John B. He's kinda the rock of the group, the guy that brings everyone together.

His dad went missing a couple of months ago, no one knows what happened but John B still believes, that there's a chance his dad might still be alive.

Then there's JJ. Not the brightest star on the sky, but he got his moments. JJ is the one, most people have a crush on. He comes from an abusive home and doesn't trust easily. That's why he didn't want y/n to join the group at first. It took him a while, to warm up to her.

Next there's Pope. Pope is a truly nice guy, but he gotta leave his hole for a little and live. All he can think about is his scholarship. His dad is also a nice guy, he owns a little shop and sometimes y/n gets to help him and Pope out, to earn a little bit of extra money.

Last but not least there's Kie. Kie might be a Kook, but she never wanted all of the rich stuff. Being at the beach, surfing and sometimes saving the turtles is the only thing that can make her truly happy. And of course hanging out with her friends.

And now there's y/n. Nothing much more to say. So let me sum it up. From Kook to Pogue, because of financial issues and now, after a rough start, happier than ever.

Anyways back to the story...

Y/n was just preparing a party together with her friends. It's a thing they all love to do. Dance, drink, smoke and the most important thing, have fun and forget you're poor.

It was all going great, until three, not so much liked, Kooks made their way down to the beach.

"Oh look who we got here!" JJ said.

Y/n couldn't stand seeing them, not after they just ghosted and left her alone, after all.

But JJ just couldn't leave it be. He doesn't like it when the Kooks are on his side of the island.

"You guys don't belong here, go back to your side of the island!"

Long story short, Rafe and the rest of his crew didn't like the way, they got talked to. So it kinda ended with them punching each other and Kie and y/n had to get them away from each other.

"Just go back to your side" Y/n said annoyed, after the girls successfully ended the fight.

"You got non to say, POGUE" Rafe harshly said.

It stung but y/n ignored it. By now she was used to Rafe being such an ass.

After much more hurtful words from Kooks to Pogues and back, the snoops finally left.

"I can't believe they come here and act like they own the beach" Kie said, mad at their behavior.

"Just leave it be Kie, they're just jealous that we get to have fun, while they have to follow so many rules, that they forgot what independence was." y/n answered, which made the group laugh.

The fight, that happened a couple of hours ago, was long forgotten, the group had fun at the party and enjoyed the rest of the night.

--------------

Now they were only dreaming of having a party. A surge came over the outer banks and all people tried their best, to bring back the original order of how everything was before.

But on the other hand, the Pogues also had the chance to earn money, by doing the work in the rich guys backyards.

Rich people are too lazy to do so, but the Pogues don't really mind.

This is how y/n found herself in the backyard of the Cameron's.

It's funny how she used to swim in the pool and bake in the kitchen together with Sarah, and now is only there to throw away the branches that fell down.

She was just about to throw away the trash when she spotted Rafe standing behind his window.

Quickly y/n looked away from it. She felt uncomfortable continuing to work, while being watched, but at the same time, she wanted to show Rafe that she wasn't afraid of him.

So despise everything she continued working.

After like one more hour she was mostly done and admired her work. The backyard looked like there had never been a surge and it was all perfect.

She was on her way out, when she noticed a few raindrops, so she was kinda pissed she had to walk home.

As she was down the streets, the few raindrops turned into a lot more and she was drenched only minutes after. She turned around the corner when suddenly a car stopped next to her.

It was Rafe. The boy couldn't stand seeing her in the rain, still having to walk the long way back.

He knows he's being mean to her, but deep down she's still his friend.

"Get in the car" He tells her.

But y/n doesn't really want to, he never cared before, so why now?

But she also doesn't want to continue walking in the rain, so she signed and got in.

"Why did you do that?" She asked him.

"Do what exactly?" He looked over to her, not knowing what she meant.

"Follow me here, even though you could have cared less"

"Don't think too much about it. Dad told me to bring you home, because the weather forecast said it's going to be a bad thunder storm." Just as he said that, there was a thunderstruck appearing a little away from them.

Anyone who knew y/n would know, the she wasn't the biggest fan of thunderstorms. It's not like she's afraid fo them, but she wouldn't really want to walk through it either.

"Oh, okay" She was a little disappointed, that that was the only reason Rafe picked her up.

She thought maybe he would apologize for all the hurtful things he said to her, but he actually didn't.

After a while they reached y/n's house and said their good byes.

Even though y/n isn't the biggest fan of Rafe, she couldn't really stop thinking about that encounter all night.

---------

Now the meeting between y/n and Rafe was a week ago.

In that time y/n couldn't stop thinking about the blond boy, but neither could he.

Rafe doesn't know, why he chose to help her get home and why he told her that Ward told him to.

Maybe he was afraid of what she would think.

But he really likes her, he always had. Back when Sarah first brought y/n over, he saw her and was like 'I have to get to know her'. And he did, but then y/n moved away and he had to act like he hated her.

I mean those are the rules right? Kooks have to hate the Pogues, and y/n was a Pogue now.

The two met each other again at the golf club, because Y/n was helping Pope deliver some groceries.

"What are you doing here?" Y/n heard from behind her.

Of course, the day just had to get worse.

"Can't you see what I'm doing, or do you need glasses? Cameron. " She turned around and looked at him.

Of course he saw what she was doing, but he just wanted to talk to her.

"Shut it, Pogue. I meant what are you doing on our side of the island"

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't see the name Cameron written on the border to the side of the boring people" y/n answered.

She was done with his shit and didn't really want to continue this conversation.

So she just turned around and left.

Of course Rafe didn't like that and followed her.

"You shouldn't be here."

"And why's that? I mean tell me Cameron? Why shouldn't I be on the side I grew up on? Is it because you dumb motherfuckers are afraid, I'll steal your money or is it because you are blinded by all the lies, so that you actually believe, we want something bad to happen to you" y/n already had a bad day and now this had been her last straw.

Rafe was a little taken back by her words.

"Jeez, calm down." It hurt him to let his guard down just a little, but he thought she was going to explode if he says one more word.

"You won, I'll leave you alone" He said and left her standing alone in the parking lot.

---------

That wasn't the only time they met after that.

Y/n was just inside of the library, that's right in the middle of the cut and figure eight, when she run into Rafe.

"Oh damn Cameron, didn't even know you knew how to read" She said.

"I actually don't, I was looking at picture books." He went along with her joke.

Y/n just smiled it off and the both went their own way.

What was that? That might have been the first time, he didn't leave a stupid comment.

Of course Rafe knows how to read, but he didn't expect to see y/n there and her to actually say something. So he didn't have enough time to thing about anything good to say.

But Rafe was hoping to see her again.

---------

People always say, it doesn't matter how big the world is, the right people always find each other.

That must have been the case with Rafe and y/n, only that the two aren't the "right" people, or they just don't know it yet.

One late evening y/n wanted to take a walk down the beach. The beach from the cut goes over to the beach on figure eight. Of course y/n didn't really care, so she just continued walking.

"Isn't it past your sleeping time, Grumpy?" She turned around and saw Rafe standing there.

"God, why do you have to be here, the day could have ended perfect." She was annoyed.

"Don't be such a negative nancy. It doesn't have to end bad." He was trying to lighten up the mood.

Y/n's brain didn't want to talk to Rafe, but her stomach said otherwise.

So she stood still and waited for Rafe to continue talking.

"Mind if I join you on your walk?" He asked her.

"I mean if you have to, Cameron"

So the two walked together and it didn't take long for them to start an actual conversation.

----------

It was a kinda weird feeling, that y/n couldn't describe.

Her and Rafe started texting each other, and if you look closely you could even see a small smile everytime there was a new message.

"Who got you in this good mood lately?" Kie asked y/n.

"No one, why?"

"Because you might think no one notices, but I do notice you're trying to contain your grinning everytime you look at your phone."

Y/n didn't want to tell her friends about her and Rafe yet.

After all they weren't anything official yet and second he was hated by the whole group.

Just then y/n's phone pinged.

Messages

Rafe:      Hey

Y/n :       Hey

Rafe       You got anything planned for tonight?

Y/n :       No, why?

Rafe:      Great, I'll pick you up at 7.

---------

After y/n got the message, she had to make an excuse for herself, because it had already been 5.30pm and she had to get home and get ready.

Rafe didn't tell her what he had planned, so y/n had to wear something fitting for all occasions.

At exactly 7, Rafe parked his car in her driveway and waited for y/n to come outside.

"Hey" She greeted him, as she got into his car.

"Hey" He said back, with a small smile.

He looked nervous and y/n didn't really know why.

About 10 minutes later, Rafe parked his car I'm front of a forest.

"Are you going to kill me?" Y/n asked jokingly.

"I might, if you keep asking question." Rafe answered, what sounded really serious.

"Come on."

And with that the two got out of the car.

Rafe went around the car to open the trunk, out he pulled a picnic basked and a huge blanket.

"You created a picnic for us?" Y/n asked fascinated.

"Hmm, follow me" Rafe didn't want to sound so rude, but he was simply nervous.

So y/n silently followed him into the woods.

After a while they reached a beautiful lake with all kinds of flowers around it.

"Damn Cameron, how'd find this place?"

"A good Kook, never reveals his secrets."

So y/n let it go and they to got comfortable on the blanket.

Rafe pulled all kinds of food, out of the basket and the two begun to eat.

"This is really nice, thank you" y/n told him.

"Hey, grumpy? Can I ask you something?" Rafe was fiddling with his fingers.

"Sure"

"I know we were never really close, and I was a completely asshole to you, and your friends. But maybe we can give this a go? I mean you and me. We don't have to tell anyone right away, it can just be us two at first? So y/n would you be my girlfriend?" He asked her, as he looked at her.

Y/n didn't know what to say, the last couple of weeks have been an up and down, but always up again. She really enjoyed his company and to be honest, she doesn't care about the opinion of the others. It was her life after all.

"I would feel honored to." She told him.

And with that he gave her the long overdue kiss, they both have been waiting for.<3

I hope you liked it. I didn't proof read it and I would love you feedback. Also feel free to send requests.

And if anyone can tell me how to add a cut to stories, that would be nice<3

[unrestedjade]

More baseless Ferengi headcanons no one asked for: LATINUM EDITION~~~

- Almost every home is a rental, as almost all usable land is corporate-owned. Might as well daydream about owning a moon, it's no less realistic than owning the house you grew up in. (No I'm not frustrated with my $1500 rent at all, no I'm not miserable watching 40-year-old trailer homes selling for $250k to a property management firm that's going to rent it out. Surely a place like Ferenginar wouldn't be equally ridiculous, hahahahahahahahHAHAHAHA. Ahem.) - Latinum as religious fetish. We see Quark offering slips of latinum while he prays to the Blessed Exchequer before bed. He even has a little shrine. What's unclear is whether you're meant to reuse the same slips each day or if you have to actually "give up" the latinum over the longer term for the offering to count. You can break a piggy bank, but it's probably bad to break an image of the Exchequer, unless he's very chillaxed compared to the majority of gods. - Assuming really giving up the latinum is better, is destroying it extra good? Or are you sinning by removing it from the Continuum? Are there Ferengi extremist sects that sink latinum into bogs or launch it into a star?

- What do they think and feel about latinum with regards to the Exchequer? What does a god need with it? Is it meant to be his lifeblood, figuratively? Or literally, via transubstantiation? (Catholic Ferengi. Cathipitolists.)

- How was latinum treated in the days before they knew to process it with gold so it could be handled safely? It's very pretty and ethereal-looking in its raw form, and also very, very toxic. Depending on the symptoms of latinum poisoning, I wonder if it had anything to do with it gaining religious significance? Ancient Ferengi priests seeing visions and going a little funny in the head from handling raw latinum for years and years?

- The way Quark and Brunt talk about taxes in S7 suggests there's not a lot of taxation in Ferengi society (officially, anyway. idk what else you'd call their ubiquitous bribes/tips than unofficial taxation). In any case, since one of the major purposes of taxation in modern economies is to control inflation by removing money (governments create/destroy money; they don't really keep a little checkbook register of surplus/deficit the way a household does) offering latinum to the Exchequer as an act of worship could be a good way to take money out of circulation for a while. - Latinum vs fiat money? Latinum is canonically used as coinage by multiple species. (It would seem like Ferengi are putting themselves at a bit of a disadvantage by also attaching a spiritual importance to it, but who knows, and this is a tangent on a tangent.) Is all their money backed by latinum? It can't be, right? Just conceptually, their stock markets and banks can't possibly be tying every value in every account to a real, physical measure of latinum, that's horribly inefficient. Can "latinum" also mean any legitimate liquid asset? Or does the Exchequer insist on the real thing? Much to ponder. - Brunt implies in Family Business that Ferenginar has houseless people and beggars. There's no point in begging if no one ever gives you anything, so some people must give charity to beggars. What's that look like, is it something kind-hearted Ferengi do in spite of the RoA explicitly stating that charity is only acceptable when you come out richer than you started? What's their rationalization in that case? Are they left feeling shameful about it? (Obviously the people stuck begging feel shitty, by design. Ironically, they might feel less shitty than we would, since the Exchequer doesn't appear to care how you get money, only that you get it.) - If you're moved to give money/material aid to a needy person, you'd probably do it quietly. Here in the good ol' US of A a common view is that "hand-outs" hurt the needy person in the long run because you're removing their impetus to stop being lazy sponges. And that's from people who follow a religion that commands them to care for the needy! So it's gotta be even harsher under a religion that's completely mask-off in its worship of individual prosperity. - (You just know Keldar was one of those people tossing a few slips of latinum for someone sleeping under a shop awning each morning. His business sense sucked but Ishka made him sound like a warm person. Folks gotta eat.) - Reincarnation... Alright, so if you were a dude and you die broke it's implied you can't reincarnate/are damned to the Vault of Eternal Destitution. Cool and fair, nothing to unpack there. What about women? They're half the population but seem to have been overlooked on this point in this here 10k-year-old religion. Which is telling in itself, of course, but you'd think someone would have addressed this? Who reincarnates female? Is the accepted understanding that females reincarnate female and are totally removed from the requirement to bid on their life? But that still doesn't solve the problem, because even if reincarnation were assigned-sex-segregated (god what a shitty idea, compels me tho) you're still losing X number of men to the Vault each generation. - I want to see what Ferengi religious debates look like. Pel is shown to be a serious scholar of the RoA as they've dug into not only the text itself but all the commentaries and refutations and deep-dives others have published about it. That's gotta fuel some spicy convo around the tongo table once everyone's a few drinks in. - Are there multiple sects? People arguing whether this or that rule is meant to be taken literally vs as metaphor? Everyone can't be in lockstep on this stuff. Quark seems to have been raised within the currently-hegemonic sect, but surely there's others.

- There don't appear to be any clergy or equivalent persons, so I wonder if there's different sects how they organize themselves? Do they host different subs on Ferengi Reddit? (Ferengi Reddit...shudder) - Ferengi atheists slacking at work or living as drifters because there's no point saving money for a next life that's not real. Life must drive them to drink. That's when you go out into space to live with the sane people and never call home.

- Is the rest of the population chill with atheists, or is that a no-go? I guess it would depend on how loud the person is and whether they follow the Rules or not.

- You know who they're definitely not chill with: socialists. Do they have Satanic Panics about this or that media turning the youth into commies? If you're an outspoken socialist, are you looking at exile? Arrest? An unexpected date with an Eliminator? - Conspicuous consumption seems to be a thing, and it's interesting in light of the whole "needing a good high score for a good reincarnation" idea. It still boils down to showing off how much you can afford to waste, but the stakes are undoubtedly higher for the faithful. - If something happens and you're at risk if losing everything, is it safer to just off yourself while you still have money? What if you're going to lose more than you'd ever be able to make back? (In economics this is called a perverse incentive lulz)

- The Great Monetary Collapse must have suuuuucked. It's the Great Depression x100, and also your god is mad at you, maybe??? And your next life is totally screwed now, too. Fuckin' dire, man. When Quark mentioned it in the show, it was with this flippant air like he was waiting to see how Miles and Julian reacted. He might have elaborated more if they hadn't reacted...the way he probably assumed they would. (Partially a self-fulfilling prophecy given the way he primed them to treat it as a joke, but I digress.) - Suicide rates are measurably higher in societies that elevate achievement and work ethic (see the Protestant vs Catholic divide on this, it's interesting and very depressing as a lapsed protestant in a protestant-dominated country). Just saying. - On this same bummer track: hedonic depression could be very commonplace among Ferengi. Every minute not spent working is spent on distraction because life is just such an exhausting grind, and a lot of factors determining whether you're a good/successful person are out of your control. Booze, porn, and gambling are all very distracting, and thus very popular. If a lot of this just sounds like regular degular capitalism: yes. It's actually proving difficult to push the fictional society further out because we're already living beyond satire. Maybe that's why I like these awful little guys so much. (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

[youngbugandtonystank]

And now anti Tony people are blaming him for letting Sam’s family being in financial trouble wtf the man is dead! Let him rest!

Yeah, I saw. 

They’re definitely going to keep doing that, gotta say, the MCU never failed with Tony's character, they created circumstances for him exactly just like Stan envisioned. The ‘love-to-hate’ trope is strong when it comes to him, this is what Stan wanted out of Tony Stark's relationship with his fans/audience. Thing is, the reality of the MCU superhero is that they’re all flawed. None of them are exempt from anything. Why Tony gets more hate than the others?

He’s the most popular character. There’s no discussion in this instance. Popular superheroes that first come to people’s minds are always Batman, Iron Man and Spider-Man. Tony Stark/Iron Man is a pop culture legend and the fact that RDJ got to portray him as great as he did, helped a lot. People are always going to circle back to the character who has more hype and audience. 

He’s the one with the money. The fact that Tony is swimming in money automatically makes him the target of the ‘eat the rich’ mentality. People fail to remember that other characters such as T’Challa (who has more money than Tony would ever wish to see and lives in the most technologically advanced country in the world), Shuri, Thor (a literal king with a kingdom), The Pym family, Danny Rand (he has a net worth of $5 billion and is one of the richest comic book characters of all time), etc exist. And we still haven’t seen the other Marvel characters (in the MCU) that are richer than Tony like Reed Richards, Professor X, Warren Worthington, Norman Osborn, Namor, Doctor Doom, etc. 

Even if some of us see RDJ as attractive and good looking, some people don’t. For them, RDJ is nothing compared to Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, Sebastian Stan, etc. It’s easier to hate a character you don’t find attractive. And also the fact that they find those actors relatively younger than RDJ. 

It’s the most shippable character. This also means he must be in the way of some other ships. Even if this sounds unbelievable, many people don’t get their irrational hate for a character until it dawns on them that they only hate him because he either treated one half of their ship unfairly or because he’s in the way of that ship. The more reasons they can find to hate him, the more legitimate their senseless hatred seems in their minds.

People don’t call out characters like T’Challa or Shuri because they’re scared of being called ‘racist’. T’Challa is so rich that Howard Stark could only buy (just an assumption, it’s a possibility he stole the vibranium lmao) only a portion of vibranium to build Steve’s shield, and because is the world’s most indestructible material, his worth is approximately $10,000 a gram (Fantastic Four #607) and Wakanda's vaults hold 10,000 tons of the material (Doomwar #1) T’Challa is not a billionaire, he’s a trillionaire lmaoooo everyone else is a joke compared to him.

Even having all of this info, Tony and T’Challa owe nothing to anyone.

T’Challa helped Bucky because of his principles (Tony offered to do this at the beginning as well until of course, he found out he killed his parents) but because of that, that doesn't mean T’Challa owes Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Natasha money or housing assistance. He didn't give it to them at all and he doesn’t have to. 

James Rhodes: Well. You guys really look like crap. Must've been a rough couple of years.

Sam Wilson: Yeah, well, the hotels weren't exactly five star.

Wanna know why? Because T’Challa knows they’re adults and they make their own decisions. Sam chose to be on Steve’s side, Wanda did too, Natasha too, etc. Adults make decisions and they should deal with the consequences that come with that. Tony was not going to deal with their financial problems because they made a choice and it’s not his problem to deal with. Tony is not their father. People need to ask themselves why Sam was not in the ‘lift the hammer’ scene after the party, because he wasn’t familiar with them, he wasn’t friends with Tony, only with Steve. Besides that fact, they all fought Tony, hurt his best friend, and left him to deal with the rest in CW. They’re not family.

Sam Wilson: No, I'm not actually sorry. I'm just trying to sound tough. I'm very happy chasing cold leads on our missing persons case. Avenging is your world. Your world is crazy. Steve Rogers: Be it ever so humble. Sam Wilson: You find a place in Brooklyn yet? Steve Rogers: I don't think I can afford a place in Brooklyn. Sam Wilson: Well, home is home, you know?

There’s absolutely no reason Steve can’t afford a place. He’s an adult, he has a good reputation, he worked for shield (why aren’t yall on Nick Fury’s ass if he had Steve and the others as employees? Fury set an entire place for Clint, why can’t he do it for the rest of them, he is the founder of the Avengers after all), and was pretty much capable of doing stuff for others. Tony provided them with a home while they were working together, he doesn’t need to concern himself with their personal problems because they’re not actual friends. Rhodey is his friend. Happy is his friend. Also consider the fact that maybe Sam didn’t want his help? 

And let’s also take into consideration that Tony is not only an Avenger, but Tony is also a businessman, an inventor, an engineer, has a company to keep an eye on, he is the one who finances the Avengers’ messes and other superhero messes too by co-owning the department of damage control, etc. He has other things to do. The rest of the Avengers are adults too, they should seek a job that could give them a future too, not just depend on Tony’s money. Tony had a family and he had to make sure they were covered after his death, this includes, Pepper (his wife, therefore she gets his stuff), Peter (his son, he left him EDITH, he’s basically set for life with that given the A.I. has access to the majority of his things including bank accounts), Morgan (his daughter; his responsibility), Happy and Rhodey (I’m sure we’ll see what he left them in Armor Wars). Why? They’re his actual family. 

If some of you know this and you’re still looking for reasons to put the blame on him, you’re failing to recognize you’re obsessed with hating Tony just for the sake of being right. Wouldn’t you like a life where you don’t have to constantly look for reasons to hate on a fictional character, better yet, a character you don’t like at all. Why the effort? You can love Tony and Sam at the same time, I promise you, this is not going to kill you. 

So please, instead of whining about Tony Stark all the time, why don’t yall just enjoy the fact that the show is showing you a vital and important event that happens in life while representing a part of Sam’s life to add to his emotional depth and character development? Especially because he’s a superhero and possibly the next Captain America, it’s good to see someone who is supposed to be a figure (superhero) whose actions or achievements are far greater than what people expect deal with normal things. They’re giving you a background; a solid storyline for his character. Let it be. Enjoy the shows yall, you can’t keep coming back to blame Tony for everything that happens after every single movie or Disney+ show, look for another metaphorical punching bag. The man is dead. 

[bqstqnbruin]

Priceless

Ok so here I am somehow with a second fic in a matter of, what, two ish days? Anyway, this is one that I wrote and posted last year but I reread it and it sucked so I took it down and rewrote it. Hope you like it!

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: none? swearing? Typos for sure.

_______________

You loved him with your whole heart; there was nothing that you wouldn’t do for him, and you knew that he felt the same about you. At least, that’s what you used to believe.

Ever the one for dramatics, a three am alarm was what made you question not only your whole relationship but your whole existence. The witching hour was an ungodly time to be waking up and getting ready, no matter what the reason was. Even when it involved flying off to Europe for a destination wedding that involved Jake’s entire team.

“Babe?” you call to him, the shower just turning off. He pokes his head out, hair wet, droplets of water rolling down his face as he waited for you to answer, “We’re going to have time to stop at a Dunkin’, right?” you whine, doing everything in your power to not pass out then and there instead of finishing your packing.

“Maybe?” he says, ducking back into the bathroom before coming out with just a towel on, hanging on his waist. If you weren’t so exhausted, the things you could be doing right now, your mind wanders as he continues talking, “We have to get through TSA and I don’t think they would allow you to bring that through security, would they?”

“Fucking hell,” you mutter to yourself, throwing the last of what you needed into your suitcase, trying to find anything of Jake’s lying around that you knew he would forget. “What if I finish it in the car before we go through security?” you beg, hoping he’ll cave.

“Y/N,” he sings, “then you’re going to have to use the bathroom a million times and it’s going to be my fault.”

“Do I have to be pleasant before I get coffee in me?”

You hear him laugh from the bathroom as you lean back on the bed and close your eyes. “You wouldn’t be you if you were pleasant before your coffee, babe.” You do everything in your power to try to stay awake while he gets ready, him saying random things as he runs around getting dressed, you murmuring weak responses in return. “Hey, come on, sleepyhead,” he says, pulling you off the bed, “We’ve gotta get to Logan.”

You drive there in silence, praying for the moment you get coffee in you as you still struggle to stay awake while Jake keeps talking. The car stops, Jake pulling down the window when you finally open your eyes, seeing that you were sitting in the drive-thru line at Dunkin. “God, I love you,” you say, leaning over and kissing his cheek, a smile covering his face.

“Who’s paying, you or me?” he asks, not letting you answer due to the voice of the cashier inside coming through the speaker to take your order. Two small coffees, enough to hold you over for the drive to the airport before you get more coffee once you’re through the gate. He looks at you as you stare down at your phone, having to check your bank account to see if you even had the money to begin with. “I’ll pay for both,” he says, a calm tone covering her voice.

Money for you was tight. You had never really struggled to pay your bills and your share of the utilities, but you definitely didn’t have the amount of extra cash that Jake did because of the seemingly never-ending student loan payments you were making. “I’m sorry,” you say, taking the coffee from him so he can get to driving again. You hated having the money conversation; no matter who you talked to, they always seemed to bring up the fact that your NHL player boyfriend made more money in a single season than you had seen in your entire life. It always left things awkward, as the implication of you being a gold digger hung in the air between you and the person you were having a conversation with. “I can probably transfer some money from my savings for extra stuff, but I had really only planned on buying a few meals and a few other trinkets for my family,” you admit, staring at the low number that showed in your checking account.

“Hey,” he says, resting his hand on your thigh, not taking his eyes off the road, “It’s fine. Anything you want, I’ll pay for it.” You smile at him, hoping he couldn’t tell from the corner of his eye that it wasn’t sincere. That was another thing you hated: other people covering for you. You grew up being taught that if you didn’t have money for it, you either didn’t pay for it until you had the money yourself, or you forewent it entirely. Having to worry about paying someone back was unnecessary stress in your life. Or, if they were like Jake, then they would insist it was their treat, not taking the money you owed them no matter how much it was.

You look out the window, the empty, tree-lined highway lighting up as the sun rose over it, the sky turning from the dark purple night to a brilliant orange right in front of you. You had never been one to wake up for the sunrise, taking in the sight for what was probably the first time in your life. “It’s so beautiful,” you say, taking a sip of your coffee, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this calm and quiet before.”

“I’ve seen one thing more beautiful than this,” he says, a huge smile on his face.

“What?” you ask, bracing him for the cheesy comment you knew he was going to make.

“You,” he says, proudly, trying to find your hand without looking away from the road, bringing it to his lips before connecting his back to the wheel.

“God,” you moan, both of you laughing, “That was so corny.”

“Well, they call me Chef JD, gotta have some corn sometimes,” he says, resulting in you screaming.

“I will in fact leave you if you say something like that again,” you tell him.

“Yeah? Where would you live, then?” he teases, immediately regretting his words, “Fuck, sorry.”

“I’d figure something out,” you tell him, trying to match his teasing tone so that he doesn’t think you took it the way you did. The rest of the ride to the airport is in silence, you both finishing your coffee as you pull up, seeing some of the guys getting their stuff out of their car at the same time. “Hey, aren’t international flights normally at night?” you ask Jake, Charlie, and Matt coming over to help you guys get your bags.

“Bergy booked the flight for all of us and we don’t question him,” Charlie says, pulling Jake away from you, the two of them wandering into the airport with Kylie trying to keep up with her own boyfriend

“It should be more concerning to all of you that he has to act like your father,” you say to Matt, walking with him to security. Besides Jake, you were closest to Matt. He adopted you as a pseudo younger sister, the one who knew just as much, if not more about you than your boyfriend.

Matt shrugs, watching Charlie and Jake mess around with each other in line in front of you, “It just kind of happened that way. None of us ever questioned it, like Chuck said.” The two of you watch the boys, bickering about something as they seemingly all forget their girls were standing right around them. You and Matt fall into a mundane conversation, watching Jake and Charlie together as they pass through security. The five of you gather your things, trying to find which way your gate was so you could meet the rest of the guys before boarding the flight.

Matt figured out that you were supposed to head to the left, so naturally, Jake and Charlie veered right, leaving you and Kylie with all their stuff to lug to the gate. “Where are they going?” you ask Kylie, dumbfounded as you struggle to carry Jake’s bag along with your own stuff.

“Charlie mentioned he was hungry on the way here, so I’m just hoping that’s where they’re going,” she mutters, “Dealing with all of them together is like herding cats,” clearly as cranky as you were earlier that morning as you try to stifle your laughter. Just like you, Kylie was not a person to interact with before she had caffeine in her, one of the reasons the two of you got along so well.

You get to the gate, Jake and Charlie nowhere to be seen even though you were suddenly surrounded by the rest of the Bruins roster. From the looks of the waiting area, the flight was mostly the guys and their families, and thankfully so: you would hate to be on a plane with the Bruins organization if you were outside the organization itself. You loved the boys, but god, they were loud and annoying sometimes. Everyone else on the plane would definitely hate the group, but they didn’t care. The city was fueled by the hate of everyone who wasn’t them.

Jake and Charlie finally reappear, more coffee and now food in hand. Jake hands you what he got you as you reposition yourself so you’re sitting cross-legged on the seat, slightly uncomfortable due to how scrunched up you were so you could face him. You lean over, kissing his cheek before you start eating

He turns his head to smile at you as you catch him off guard and kiss him again. “What’s this for?”

“I don’t tell you enough that I appreciate you,” you say to him, taking a bite of the breakfast sandwich he got you.

Jake smiles at you, turning himself so he faces you. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, gently pulling you towards him so he can kiss your forehead, mumbling something you can’t quite make out against your skin. Charlie starts chirping Jake over something, resulting in him leaving you to go argue with his teammates. You can’t help but smile as you watch Jake and his teammates. You knew he loved them, just like they loved him.

“You didn’t have coffee in you when I was talking to you before and you were actually pleasant?” Matt plops down next to you, taking your attention away from Jake.

You roll your eyes at him, even though you knew he was right, “Shut up, Gryz. Jake and I stopped for coffee on the way here. This is round two,” you say, raising the cup to him. The two of you watch some of the younger guys aggregate around Jake and Charlie, Jake telling them some story while they hang onto every word of his, laughing their heads off with every sentence. “God, he loves you guys.”

“Yeah, but you know he loves you more,” Matt says, nudging your shoulder.

“I think he loves Oreos more than he loves me sometimes,” you joke, knowing that it’s not true. Hoping that it’s not true, more like it.

“Trust me, JD loves three things in this order: you, hockey, then Oreos. He loves you more than he loves hockey. Nothing you can do will change that.”

You both laugh, the announcement for your flight to board interrupting the noise the rest of the guys were making. Jake rushes over to your side, picking up the bags both of you were planning on bringing onto the plan, practically pushing Matt out of the way. He kisses you on the cheek, a soft smile on his face.

“What?” you ask him, linking your arm in his.

“I love you,” he says, getting in line behind some of the guys.

“I love you, too,” you say, leaning your head against his arm.

“Ready for seven hours on a plane with these fools?” Jake asks, using his other arm to gesture to the rest of his teammates.

“I’m only ready because you’re with me,” you say to him in a sing-songy voice.

“Woah! So you can be corny, but I can’t?” he jokes, sending you two into a flirty bickering match as you board the plane with everyone. You get settled into your seats, resting your head on his shoulder to hopefully fall back to sleep despite the amount of caffeine coursing through your veins. You can hear the guys talking around you, probably annoying the rest of the passengers on the flight more than they intended.

You end up in that half awake-half asleep state while on his shoulder, the sounds of the rest of the guys fading in and out as you did. You could feel Jake occasionally kissing the top of your head, resting his on yours in an effort to go to sleep like you were. Both of you were woken up by the sound of the flight attendant coming through with food, the long flight warranting a hot meal, you and Jake being handed something different than the rest of the people around you.

“What is it?” you whisper to him once the flight attendant has passed by you.

“None of the free meals looked good so I got us something different,” he says, taking a bite of what looked like chicken covered in some sort of sauce.

“We could have just done the free meal so you wouldn’t be paying for me again,” you mumble, a little annoyed that he didn’t even ask when paying for food made things awkward earlier that morning.

You sit there in silence, eating the food that Jake bought you. Honestly, it was airplane food, not something that you had even wanted in the first place but you couldn’t let it go to waste now.

“I think I’m gonna go sit with Charlie,” Jake says, getting up without saying another word once the food is gone, leaving you to sit there by yourself with the other people in the row.

You try to find something to watch on the screen in front of you, only to be interrupted by Matt appearing and Jake’s seat, startling you as you rip out the headphones you had on while the first movie available was starting to play. “Your boy just kicked me out of my seat by sitting on top of me.”

You can’t help but laugh, picturing the other passengers' reactions around then as the grown men that were Jake and his teammates acted like absolute children. “I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he did that or that fact that I’m not shocked that he did that.” You watch him with Charlie, your smile fading as his grows.

“Hey, what’s up?” Matt asks, pulling your attention away from Jake.

“Same argument that we haven’t really fought over yet.” Matt was the only one on the team that knew about the seemingly never-ending awkwardness that surrounded you and Jake when it came to money. “It’s not getting worse, but it’s more frequent. I’m just worried we’re gonna end up blowing up at each other and losing each other in the process,” you tell him, fixating on the screen in front of you.

You hear him exhale, looking over to see a sad look on his face. A single lock of hair falls down in front of his forehead, moving along with the rest of his head, “Couples fight. I don’t want to tell you that you should have this argument this weekend, but you have to talk about it. And I mean really talk about it, not just the vague undertones you two constantly have dancing around the subject.”

You stare at him, slightly confused at how something like that came out of him, “I don’t like how you said that so eloquently,” you laugh, Matt throwing his head back to join you.

“But you know I’m right,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” you huff, waving him off.

Without another word, he hands you his other earbud, starting a movie on his screen that would hopefully last the rest of the flight. You rest your head on his shoulder to get a better view of the screen, picturing Jake in his place.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you must have at some point because the next thing you know, the movie is over, the plane is about to land, and Matt is trying to get you off his shoulder so he can get back to his seat. “Hey, Y/N,” he whispers, nudging his shoulder gently. “Jake’s coming back,” he says, acting as if he didn’t want to get caught with you asleep next to him.

“Hi,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes as he plops back down in his seat, him kissing your cheek as you now struggle to stay awake. “It’s like, the middle of the night now, isn’t it?” you ask him, having no idea the time difference between Boston and where you were.

“I think it’s like 10 pm. I didn’t realize I was dating an old woman,” he jokes, pulling a laugh from you.

“You wear me out, babe,” you say, everyone getting up from their seats, the boys making more noise than anyone on the plane as people anxiously waited to get off.

“And you keep me young,” he says, giving you a quick peck before handing you your bag.

You hear someone groan behind you, turning to see Matt standing there already waiting for the two of you to move out of his way. “I’m not going to hang out with you if you’re like this the entire trip” he teases.

You can’t help but scoff, playing into the teasing nature of his comment. “Sorry, bubs, you’re the only one who didn’t bring a date so that makes you our third wheel.”

“I could third wheel any of the guys here and you know that,” he tries to defend himself as Jake grabs your hand and starts to pull you off the plane.

“That’s a weird thing to brag about,” you tell him, the three of you walking in a line to go get your bags, you and Matt carrying a conversation while Jake stands off to the side, not paying attention to the movement of the unfamiliar airport around him.

Everyone waits outside for whatever transportation Patrice had arranged to the hotel, still unsure how he swung any of the details he did. The guys had way too much energy considering how many hours they spent cooped up on a plane. You were exhausted, the coffee practically gone from your system as you tried to convince Jake to just go back to the hotel room with you and spend the night in. “Please?” you beg him, draping yourself on his arm as he waited to get your room keys.

“But the guys want to explore the city,” he whines, jutting his lip out to you.

“I have no more coffee in me,” you whine back. He pouts at you, contemplating whether or not it’s worth it to try to convince you to stay in or go explore with the guys. “I will do anything you want.”

He raises his eyebrows, pulling you close to him, “Anything?” he asks, forgetting the guys surrounding you as he kisses you, his grip around your waist tightening as his teammates start teasing the two of you.

“Hey, JD! Save that for the bedroom!” Matt chirps, your face turning bright red at his words.

“Ah, fuck off and let me love her,” he says, his forehead against yours. “I think I like the sound of the bedroom.”

You ignore the chirps from the boys as he kisses you again, the heat in your cheeks not subsiding until the two of you get to your room. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out with the guys? Apparently, the nightlife is supposed to be awesome in the city,” Jake says, flopping down on the bed. You had been there all of two seconds, and he was already starfished on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.

You sigh, sitting down next to him. “I told you I don’t want to go out,” you repeat, a little more annoyed than you intended to sound. “I’m tired, and when we go out, we’re going to end up spending more money and-” you stop, cutting yourself off as Jake sits up.

“Hey,” he says, taking your hands in his, “I told you I would pay for you. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, though. To me it is. I don’t need you to keep paying for me for everything. I don’t want you to.”

“What’s the big deal?”

Were you really about to have the fight you and Matt talked about on the plane in your hotel room? “Don’t you get it? You have so much money while I’m constantly struggling to make ends meet because of fucking loans. Do you know what it’s like to be a grown adult and live off someone else's money, the constant looks from people when I talk about you that say they think I’m just dating you for your money? That unless you’re home and go grocery shopping for us, I have to choose between food and gas until you get back? All I am is a fucking burden.”

“What, you think I don’t know about all of that? Why do you think I pay for you? So you don’t have to worry about food and gas,” he says, getting up.

“And I hate that you do that!” you snap, “That you feel like you have to. It’s like a slap in the face that I can never pay for anything and you have to pay for everything.”

“So what do you want me to do? Stand by and watch you struggle when I have the means to help you?” The volume of his voice matched yours, hearing doors in the hallway opening and closing, praying that it wasn’t other guests trying to figure out what room the screaming match was coming from.

“I don’t mind if you help out once in a while when I really need it but it’s stuff like the second round of Dunkin’ when I could barely get the first, the meal on the airplane when they give out free ones, or when you keep asking to go out, knowing that we’re going to spend money after I told you no.” Jake rolls his eyes, pushing past you and out the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going out with the guys. You want something, you can get it yourself, see if I care,” he hisses, leaving you standing there with the door propped open by your foot, watching him walk away. Matt gets off the elevator when he tries to get on, saying something you can’t make out when the elevator door closes.

“What the hell happened?” Matt asks, looking between you and the elevator.

You shake your head, trying to hold back the tears that were forming, knowing that there were other people in the hallway that had just witnessed the end of whatever that was. “Remember the fight you said we would have? We just had it,” you tell him, flopping down on your bed with your hands over your face. You let out a long groan, feeling the weight of Matt’s body sink the corner of the mattress down. You knew he was giving you that sympathetic look that was going to make you more upset, feeding into your already upset nature just that much more.

“What happened?” Matt repeats.

“We just finally snapped. God, of all places to have a stupid fight like this, we have at the night before your teammate is supposed to get married. I mean, fuck, we’re in Barcelona, for god's sake and you and I are here watching me mope instead of exploring like we should be.”

“Well, who says we can’t?”

“My bank account.”

Matt pries your hands off your face, forcing you to sit up despite you clearly not wanting to. “There’s so much to do in Barcelona at night that doesn’t involve spending money. We can find the guys no problem, probably doing something free.”

“And how do you expect we do that?” you ask him as he tries to drag you off the bed, grabbing the room key on the way out the door.

Matt waves his phone in the air, a smug look on his face. “I have the location of everyone on the team, past and present, on Find My Friends.”

You hesitate for a minute, your wallet and bag sitting right there by the door for you to grab to go join your boyfriend and his teammates and try to enjoy the night despite the fight you just had. “Matt,” you try to protest, your eyes darting back and forth between him and your bag. You didn’t want to worry about Jake on the night out, but you knew you couldn’t be spending a lot of money. You had been out with the guys too many times before when Jake promised they wouldn’t be big spenders, only to go home and have to worry about how you were going to survive to the next paycheck.

“If you want anything then I’ll pay for it and you pay me back with food or something. Y/N, Jake is wandering Barcelona with Charlie right now, probably just as upset as you are,” he tries to reason with you. “There’s no point in sitting here alone in your hotel room when you’re in a city that you’ve been talking about visiting for as long as I’ve known you.”

You let out a groan, knowing that he was right. “I can’t stand you,” you mumble, grabbing your bag and heading out the door with him.

Matt had his phone pulled out, trying to navigate the city based on a little dot that showed your boyfriend’s location. You had no idea where you were going, and, to be honest, you weren’t sure that Matt had any idea either. You had never been in a situation where the two of you had to wander through unfamiliar territory before, but something told you it was going to be a while before he figured out how to get to the rest of the guys.

“Matt, this is useless. We’ve been walking around for over an hour already,” you tell him, sitting down on the bench that was just off the path you had been taking.

“It hasn’t been an hour, you’re being dramatic.”

Matt sits down next to you as you pull out your phone. “We left the room at 10 pm. It’s 11. That’s an hour,” you snap at him, clearly hating that you can’t find them. “I just want to see Jake,” you mutter.

“Have either of you calmed down enough to have an actual conversation with each other? You know, not a screaming match?” Matt asks you, watching the small dots that represented his teammates move around his phone screen. “If you want to try to figure out your way around here, when neither of us speaks the language to ask for directions, we can. If not, we go back to the hotel.”

You stare at his phone, seeing JD, CM, TF, two JS’s, and a DP altogether, somewhere off the road where neither of you were able to figure out how to get to them. You shake your head, thinking about Matt’s words: you weren’t sure you were cooled off enough to talk to Jake rationally, and you had a feeling he was still the same. “Let’s just find our way back to the hotel,” you tell him, getting up off the bench.

You look at Matt, the look of sympathy covering his face as he follows you back the way you came. You probably could have easily found Jake and the rest of the guys, working out whatever the hell you needed to before the wedding tomorrow. If you couldn’t work it out, what did that mean for your future, though? If you didn’t live with Jake, you would be struggling way more than you were now, probably living paycheck to paycheck without the luxury of everything Jake did for you.

Were you wrong to be mad that he was trying to help?

The two of you get back to the hotel, the empty lobby eerily echoing with your footsteps on the marble floor. You hadn’t even noticed it before, the hotel you were staying at was probably the nicest one you had ever set foot in. You were tempted to sit on one of the chairs in the lobby, wait there for Jake and the rest of the guys to come back despite the fact that they would probably be drunk off their asses when you saw them.

Matt puts his hand on your arm, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Do you want to stay down here and wait?” he asks you, reading your mind, “Or, do you want to go back to either your room or mine?”

“I don’t want to impose,” you try to protest.

“So, you’d rather go back to an empty room and wallow alone instead of sitting on my bed, eating ice cream, and watching a movie,” he tempts you, raising his eyebrows with his offer.

“I don’t want ice cream.”

Matt scrunches his nose, letting out a laugh. “I never said the ice cream was for you. It’s summer, I can cheat on the nutrition plans a little more right now.”

He manages to pull a laugh from you, the two of you heading up to his room. You plopped yourself on his bed, your hands behind your head while you couldn’t take your mind off Jake. You really didn’t want him to be as miserable as you felt, but part of you also did want that. Was that bad?

You knew you had to set boundaries. You knew you couldn’t live without him, both financially and in life in general.

“You know,” Matt says, pulling you out of your thoughts yet again, “The guys are back here at the hotel. If you wanted to go back to your room, I’m sure you could talk to him now.”

You roll over, your back facing Matt. “I don’t think he would want to talk to me.”

Matt sighs, lying down next to you and staring up at the ceiling. “Like I told you in Boston, Jake loves you more than anything. If I know anything about him, he’s just as miserable as you are, probably back in your room panicking about where you are.”

You turn to him, narrowing your eyes. “This is your way of trying to get me out of here before the ice cream comes and you feel like you have to share with me, isn’t it?”

You both laugh, sitting up to get ready to go. “Oh, of course.”

You head out, opening the door, caught off guard by who was standing there. “Jake?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. “I thought you would be here.” You nod, both of you standing there in an awkward silence as you held the door to Matt’s room open. You didn’t know if you should speak first or wait for Jake to do it, and apparently, he felt the same.

“As much as I love just staring at you two,” Matt breaks the silence. “Would you be able to do this with my door closed? You can be in here, but,” his voice trails off. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear whatever it was you were about to talk about even though he already knew.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell him, letting his room door close behind you as Jake took your hand in his, leading you down the hall to your room.

You don’t say anything until you get into your room, both of you sitting at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” he says, his hand still in yours but unable to look at you.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” you repeat, for lack of better words to say. “We need boundaries. I get that you want to pay for things, but I need you to ask me before you do, especially if it’s something we don’t necessarily need.”

“Ok,” he draws out, trying to figure out how to frame his words. “Would you be ok with asking me for help when you need it? You know I can help you, and it kills me seeing you struggle when I have the means to make this stop.”

“I just want you to ask.”

He smiles at you, raising his hand to cup your face. “I will,” he says, his lips finding yours for a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You spend the rest of the night together, trying to figure out boundaries of what and when Jake can lend you money, what should be paid back, what he doesn’t want back, everything. It was the conversation you should have had years ago, yet never did.

The next morning, you get ready for his teammate's wedding, slipping on the dress, your back towards Jake while he put on his suit. “Can you zip me up?” you ask him while he adjusted his sleeves.

He comes up behind you, his fingers holding the small zipper and slowly pulling it up your back. Jake wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in front of the mirror hung on the wall of the room, his head nestled on your shoulder. “I can’t wait until we get married.”

You laugh, craning your neck to kiss the side of his head. “That’ll be an expensive day, won’t it,” you joke.

“Yeah, maybe. But spending the rest of my life with the girl I love? That’s priceless.”

[mallowstep]

May or may not be thinking of doing a thing with all the worldbuilding you did for the human AU and I gotta ask: How would one go about establishing a household? Could, say, a ragtag group of young adults who bonded during a particularly intense roadtrip go through a legal process to establish themselves as a household?

yes and no?

uhh okay so uh. let's look at it like this:

level 0 (unassociated individuals):

basically, you have a group of people living together. maybe they're sharing an apartment lease. no expectation of permanency, etc.

level 1 (marriage):

default happens when you get married, basically. marriage is a form of forming a household. (uh this is still paperwork, mind. like, if you get married w/in a household you're not kicked out. you do have to file, okay look marriage is complicated. but. y'know who among us is writing fics about paperwork set in my human au?)

(okay on reflection: basically if you're in a larger household, your marriage doesn't hold a lot of legal weight, because it's not a primary Unit of Family. if that makes sense.)

level 2 (single house unit):

this is basically marriage without the marriage. you can do this with any group of people more or less. it's some paperwork, adults signing, leaving old households, etc., and this is where you do have to pick a Head of Household (for a marriage it's just two people and possible kids, so like, not relevant). if you are all living in one building, it's very chill process. congrats now you get tax benefits and collective responsibility. you don't get like, entity status? i'll explain below. anyway, very easy to do.

everyone DOES have to live together, tho. there's no exceptions at this point.

level 3 (compound):

this is the big boys. at this point, you're basically making the household itself a legal entity, so you can open a bank account for it, buy property under it, etc., and now you can have people live out of one house.

i mean, okay, most of the time you're going to own one large chunk of property, which you could've done at level 2 and build multiple houses, but that takes a lot of money, and you might get accused of fraud, because the point of this is really "this is a group of people functioning as direct family" and if you all live separately, are you, really?

this takes a lot more filing, for obvious reasons, and is probably not what a ragtag group of young adults is doing. there are things like successors (you need to declare one), ratios (a certain yet-undetermined portion of the members have to live on property), fraud prevention things (again, this cannot be a tax evasion scheme, or stuff like that), and more. idk i haven't figured out all the details yet but the point is. more filing.

hope this helps!

<3

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

As someone who’s also sold their soul to a label I just gotta say I really fucking hope L and C know what they’re doing. L is really playing with fire right now and C can’t seem to decide if she wants to follow the label’s instructions to the letter or sway a bit. When it comes to stuff like that it’s honestly better to have a path rather then this back and forth they’re both displaying because there’s moles on the inside that’ll trip em. I mean making L go away would be easy and if they decide C is more trouble then she’s worth they’ll just make the public hate her so much that she’ll have to disappear or they’ll drain her bank account if they have to. I’ve seen artists studio hours and budgets cut to shreds. Hopefully they figure out their path soon.

Why do you say that Lauren is playing with fire? Because about Camila, she has to play their rules because of her contracts she's not in the industry because she wants to. We all know she loves what she does but not what's behind it. That's why she said she wanted to stop making music. To be in the industry, but she can't leave yet. As I said before, I'm sure that she has a plan to work on and she's still working on it I think. Time will tell I guess 🤷🏾‍♀️

[jq37]

The Case File – Mice and Murder Ep 1

The Case of the The Pernicious Party  

Hello, hello, hello! It’s been a hot second but your resident D20 recapper is back to tackle the newest season: Mice and Murder! Y’all had to know I wasn’t gonna sit out the murder mystery, are you kidding me???

I might be playing around with the format a bit in the coming weeks to make sure I have the best possible system for keeping track of possible clues, suspects, and theories as we untangle whatever web Brennan weaves for us this season so don’t be surprised if things change a little. 

Anyway, without further ado, onto our mystery!

Summary

In case you missed it, this season takes place in an alternate, Zootopia/Wind in the Willows-esque universe where all the characters are animals but history seems to have happened in more or less the same way--for example there was still a King Charles but he was a King Charles Spaniel (cute Brennan). Our story specifically takes place in the English village of Tufting Meadows.  

We start with Katie’s character--Gangie Green (Weasel/Thief Rogue) in the graveyard of the Anglican Chapel (Our Lady of Prayerful Paws). Gangie, we learn, is an orphan who was kicked out of the orphanage at some point for thievery. Obviously, he’s not reformed of the habit because he is here to do some graverobbing. On a nat 20 (that Katie hilariously doesn’t notice even though her total is like a 29) Gangie can see through the window of the rectory that there is a weeping window inside--Catherine McCabbage who is being (dubiously) tended to by Raph’s character, Vicar Ian Prescott (Owl/Bard, College of Eloquence). 

Ian comes from a line of men of the cloth but he’s not exactly the best speaker despite his subclass. He’s doing his best though! The widow’s husband (Conor McCabbage) died at the local mill in what has been declared an accident but she suspects foul play. She’s been hearing his voice on the wind and wants Ian’s professional opinion on whether this could be a sign from God or if her husband might be speaking to her from beyond the grave or something like that. Ian gives a very muddled and not very comforting answer but seems pretty sure that something sketchy did in fact happen. Then, he sees a crack of lightning outside which illuminates the graveyard where he gets a glimpse of Gangie. 

He goes to check it out (and Gangie fully has an elderly goat he’s dug up slung over his shoulder) but “gravedigger” is his legit job so Ian decides to assume whatever’s going on is legit and not ask too many questions. He goes back to the widow (who, before she leaves, says that maybe sometimes people need to work on God’s behalf) while Gangie takes the body Loam Hall (a massive manor, built into a hill).

We cut to the next day and our next two characters! 

At 22B Hamsted Street in a pretty well appointed home are Ally and Grant’s characters. First up, we have Lars Vandenchomp (Huge ass Doberman/Battlemaster Fighter) who is so tough looking but also so Swedish sounding--it’s A Lot (so, incredibly on brand for Ally). Lars is security for Grant’s character Sylvester Cross (Fox/Inquisitive Rogue) who is a kinda (to use Grant’s word) “foppish” Sherlock Holmes type. He was hired by Squire William Thornwall Brockhollow to figure out what happened with Conor McCabbage (and clear him of negligence in running the mill) but he couldn’t find any evidence of any funny business, making this the only case he’s never cracked. He’s not as young or popular as he once was so this is, understandably, bumming him out. He’s even more bummed out when he realizes that William has invited him to his 60th birthday party that’s happening that night (as kind of a prop to show that he did his part in trying to solve the mystery) and Lars has already RSVP’d yes. He grudgingly agrees to go as it’s one of those asks that’s really more of a veiled demand but decides to pull the money he was paid from the bank first so he can return it and really stick it to the guy.

Finally, we cut to our last set of PCs who are on their way to Tufting Meadows via a very luxurious train. Inside are Sam and Rekha’s characters! Sam is Buckster $ Boyd (Peccary which is like a small boar/Mastermind Rouge) a Texan Oil Tycoon who acts exactly how you’d expect a Texan Oil Pig to act. Yes, you pronounce the dollar sign as “dollar sign” (even though as we find out later his middle name is Cassius so it’s like Cash which I think is super cool). With him is Rekha’s character, Daisy D'umpstaire (Raccoon/Assassin (???) Rogue another American (from South Carolina) though it seems she’s My Fair Lady’d herself into an upper class socialite (her last name was previously Dumpster). They’re traveling with their accountant, an Armadillo named Armond who seems kinda skittish and concerned about their travel expenses but Buck tells him that to make money you gotta spend money and they’re gonna make a *ton* of money on this trip. They’re also so so mean to him for absolutely no reason. 

When the train stops, they’re greeted by Templeton Padhop (a frog, natch) who is the chauffeur of Loan Hall, sent to fetch them. A wheel on his car is broken so he joins in on the Armond abuse immediately and has Armond roll into an Armadillo ball and replace it. Poor guy. When they show up they're greeted by a footman--a pug in a bowler hat named Milo Snout.

Meanwhile, Lars and Sly (Oh, Sly fox, I see what you did there Grant) are similarly greeted by another footman--a lizard named Basil Baskins. On a 23 perception check, Lars sees that Jeremy “Jez” Brockhollow is inside (the son of William who is a badger btw) and also clocks Gangie (who they know as a career criminal who disappeared like a year ago). Gangie doesn’t notice Lars though. 

Ian, who is also invited, shows up at about the same time as Sly but very quickly, the conversation is taken over by Lucretia “Lucy” Brockhollow, William’s older, eccentric sister who immediately gets into it with Lars about astrology and the occult (she thinks bad stuff is happening because of a curse let loose when Sly’s old rival--a rabbit named Fletcher Cottonbottom who is the son of his former employer--opened an Egyptian tomb). They’re thick as thieves right away because Ally is a nonsense magnet. And not like a regular magnet, one of those big electromagnets. 

Daisy and Buck spot William’s kids--the aforementioned Jez and his older sister Constance--along with their husbands Dr. Corbin Magpie (Constance’s and obv a magpie and a doctor) and Osmond Sheffield (Jez’s who is a Ram and a lawyer). Daisy is too stuck in her conversation with a truly unhinged squirrel (Lady Eugenia Bristlebrush who clearly does not know she’s in a murder mystery because she just keeps talking about how much she hates and wants to kill everyone) to hear what’s going on but she indicates the conversation to Buck who is able to eavesdrop and hear that they’re lamenting that Catherine--the widow--RSVP’d no which is gonna look really bad, like they didn’t invite her (bad PR). 

Buck, introducing himself as a business partner of William, eases into a conversation with the husbands which their respective spouses also join into and we learn that Buck's dad was British and a friend of Willian’s. Buck bonds with Jez (who is a bit of a dilettante) really quickly since Buck is ready to go drinks-wise immediately (and there’s a stellar pun about the “American [Drinking] Constitution''). Through the window, Buck notices Gangie outside getting his attention. 

At the same time, Ian is going from party guest to party guest, giving out the penances he forgot to earlier at church (as one does). We see him talking to the Lord and Lady Bramble (a cow and hedgehog, respectively) and while she wants to pray her way out of situations without doing any legwork, he wants to buy his way out and gives Ian 250 pounds. A frustrating but financially lucrative conversation.  

Buck goes outside to talk to Gangie who has a list of names of the bodies he’s been collecting. We’re not told what Buck is doing but it seems that this list is extremely valuable to him in some way. Gangie (who Buck keeps calling Gangly, to his annoyance) pays him handsomely (like, with a 50% tip) for the list (and Gangie gives him the real list, despite Brennan saying he didn’t have to). We also learn that Gangie has allegedly been getting the orders from someone in Loa Hall and they flow from William himself.

Matilda Molesly (a mole and the head maid) invites Gangie to come in from the rain--she’s the only person who’s been consistently nice to him and he agrees to come in for tea and scones. 

Everyone is ushered together by the butler (because of course there’s a butler--he’s quite literally a fancy rat named Thomas Gilfoyle) and William gives a speech where he wishes Conor well and kinda highlights that he did hire Sly to solve the case in a “Hey, I did my bit don’t blame me” kind of way. He also makes a 150k pound donation to the church (and Ian thought 250 was good) and tells his daughter not to read the praise he got for it from the cardinal when she mentions it (I wonder if that was choreographed). Sly interrupts the speech to “magnanimously” give his money back, to William’s annoyance. Buck notices that Lawrence Longfoot (a nouveau rich, rabbit photographer) takes a pic of the scene but with Sly in the foreground and William in the background. 

Then, a few things happen at once (in a very cinematic way):

As the camera flashes, Mrs. Molesly drops her tray, eyes hurt by the light. Lady Calliope Fawnbrooke (Deer, Matron of the Arts) helps her up.

In the moment of dark, after the flash goes away, the butler disappears. 

Buck thinks he sees a shape through the window, out in the rain. 

A cheer goes up for Sly for returning the money but all Sly can focus on is one figure he recognizes in the back of the room. Daisy, who is downing her drink and not cheering for him. He downs his as well, and looks at her until she breaks the stare and leaves the room. 

And this episode doesn’t end with a dead body like I thought, but with a flashback to a younger Sylvester, 12 years ago when he first met Daisy.

PC INTERPERSONAL DRAMA Y’ALL!!! Get HYPED! 

Case Notes

Here is a compilation of all the characters (PCs and NPCs introduced in this episode). 

Sly mentions that Ignatius Cottonbottom faked his own death as a part of some scheme which seems like a backstory point that might come back later--we now know that there exists a way to convincingly fake your own death in this world. 

Sly walks with a walking stick because of some “mysterious accident” but we’re jumping into a flashback next week so it looks like we might find out about it pretty soon. 

Sly also mentions he used to be the personal physician to the elder Cottonbottom so those are skills he has. I wonder if that’ll be useful to this healer-less party. I wonder if cleric was even an option in this world which seems to be low to no magic. It would explain by Ian is a bad and not a cleric. 

Lars has a military background which I wanted to mention in case it becomes relevant later. 

And Dr. Magpie grew up poor and still acts it a bit even though he married a very rich woman. Brennan uses the very good line, “He forces his body into the shape of an apology”

This might be a really deep cut reference but did anyone else here was the old Britcom “Keeping Up Appearances”? Cause I was getting serious Bouquet/Bucket energy from Daisy. 

This is an all College Humor season and it shows. The energy of 6 (7 if you count Brennan) top notch comedians sparking off of each other, trying to one up each other is off the charts. Some of the best bits this episode:

“When God closes every door but one, you go through the door that is open.” followed by “I’m an owl by the way.”

“Time is money, here’s both” from Buck re his inscribed gold pocket watch--everyone at the table loved that so much and they’re right. 

Armond going from being a third to a fourth wheel. 

And the names--I already shouted out a ton on the main recap but also a rat butler (like Rhett Butler) and naming the mouse Cat(therine). Can’t forget Gangie Green/gangrene from Katie. Also points to Ally for the data stealing Eel Musk which broke Brennan a little. 

I know we just went through this with Crown of Candy but what are these animals eating? Like, in Zootopia there were only mammals so we can assume the carnivores are eating like birds and fish but there are sentient birds here. I know this isn’t important. I’m not trying to do a CinemaSins gotcha. I just wonder, you know?

Y’all were waiting for all the lights to go out during that speech and then come back on and there’d be a body too, right?

If Brennan makes the bad guy a chicken or a duck or something so he can make a “fowl play” joke, he is cordially invited to catch these hands. 

I have been waiting for Raph and Katie to do D20 forever. Their specific brand of nonsense on Rank Room was always amazing. 

I love love love that Grant and Rekha are the PCs that have ~a past~ because they are so funny together. If you haven’t seen their episode of Game Changers, you absolutely must (it’s also a murder mystery actually!). 

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 3

Happy finals week, ugh. As always, reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

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Chapter 3: Well shit Babs, maybe I like ponies

Marinette sat on a rock and paddled her bare feet in the water. It was a beautiful day, the sun was warming the top of her loose, dark hair and the ocean in front of her stretched for miles and miles.

A noise disturbed her peaceful moment. A distant cry, probably a seagull.

She sighed and leaned back on her hands to breathe in the smell of--

Marinette choked. Why was there smoke in the air?

The cries grew louder as she looked back at the water before her. She started when she saw that they came from her friends, who were in the now-tumultuous water, trying to keep themselves afloat. They were only a few yards away, she could make it if she just--

A force around her waist tugged her hard as she leapt to her feet. Her face collided with the concrete beneath her-- the top of a building, she realized. If the water level was up this high, then....

From where she lay, she could see directly down into the water. It was no longer clear, but a deep crimson. There were dozens of figures scattered about, some still struggling and some motionless. She scrambled to get up as her eyes snapped to Alya’s hand disappearing below the waves.

That damn force jerked her to the other side of the building, farther from her friends.

“No!” Marinette cried out desperately. The force released her and she whirled to find her attacker.

A flash of red caught her eye, and--

Oh.

It was Ladybug.

Marinette shook her head, not understanding. If that was Ladybug, then.... No, it couldn’t be Ladybug, because she was Ladybug. She fumbled for her earrings, but felt nothing.

Ladybug stalked deliberately up to Marinette and pushed her to the ground. Marinette landed on her hands and knees, both of which were now shaking.

“Look at them,” it was her own voice that spat so harshly from Ladybug’s lips. “Look at them.” She grabbed Marinette’s hair from behind and forced her head up.

Marinette could now see Adrien, Kagami, Luka, and Chloe in the ocean in front of her. Their lifeless faces floated just below the surface, the bloodied water doing nothing to conceal their frozen expressions of terror.

Marinette sobbed and closed her eyes. Ladybug pulled sharply on her hair again, and looked into Marinette’s eyes.

“Look at them. Don’t you dare take your eyes off the mess you’ve made. You will never be able to save them all,” Ladybug’s eyes, her eyes, blazed with the vehemence of her words. She opened her mouth to speak again, but a loud beeping sound was all that came out.

Marinette gasped and sat up in her bed, the alarm sending her heartbeat into a frenzy. Tikki flew up next to her as she slumped over with a hand over her eyes.

It was just a dream.

Another Kwami must have turned off her alarm because the beeping had stopped, but Marinette could still hear the echoes of her friends’ dying breaths ringing in her ears.

“Marinette... are you okay?” Tikki placed a delicate paw on her chosen’s arm. “We heard you cry out while you were sleeping.”

The girl lifted her head and gave the little god a shaky smile. “It was just a dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tikki floated back down to where the other Kwami were piled on the side of the bed with similarly worried expressions on their faces.

Marinette exhaled a bracing sigh. “Okay.... It was Syren. Or-or Chat Blanc, I’m not really sure.” The Kwami exchanged a look at that. This was not the first time she’d had a nightmare about water. “But Ladybug was there, and she was attacking me.”

Tikki looked especially concerned about that new piece of information. She opened her mouth to say something when Marinette’s phone lit up with a call. The ringtone was Alya’s.

Marinette picked up, trying to control the shaking of her hands. “H-hey girl, what’s up?” Her tone was deceptively cheerful.

“Hey Mari! Just checking to see if you’re awake. Nino and I are ready, he even put on the goggles already!” Marinette instantly relaxed as she heard Alya’s excited voice bubbling out.

“Yeah dudette, they feel really weird. But comfy!” Nino must have leaned over to pitch in.

Marinette shook off the last vestiges of the nightmare with a giggle. “Yeah, it’s kind of tricky to get the headset to fit over your glasses, but you’ll get used to it!”

“Well if you’re not ready yet then you’d better hurry up, girl! The game launches in five minutes.”

Marinette scrambled to check the time. “Oh crap! I gotta go, see you guys soon!” She hung up and rushed to untangle herself from her blankets.

“Good thing you set three alarms, huh?” Tikki followed her down from the loft and watched her brush out her hair.

Marinette stuck her tongue out at the god of creation.

* * *

Red Hood stalked into the Batcave, nearly running Oracle over as she wheeled herself up to her station at the Batcomputer.

“Woah Jaybird, don’t let me get in your way there,” Babs glared at his retreating back. “Asshole,” she muttered to herself.

Jason hurled his helmet onto the floor of the bathroom and began shucking off his suit with far more force than necessary. He started a shower and looked over his new wounds in the mirror. He’d been stupid, so damn stupid, on patrol.

“Red Hood, report in,” Batman’s gravelly voice cut through on his comms. “Hood, you are not to engage alone. What is your location?”

But Jason couldn’t hear him. The only thing he could hear was blood rushing in his ears, but it wasn’t his blood. No, it was the blood of every monstrous, corrupt asshole in this city. And he wanted it to run on the streets.

The Joker had sent thugs out to a meet-up. Well, Red Hood could send them back in a casket. He crouched beside a gargoyle and watched for the arrival of the van he’d tailed. There were only two men. They left the vehicle and waited outside, lighting cigarettes. Too easy.

Red Hood swept down the building, guns never leaving their holsters. He wanted this to hurt. Them or him, he wasn’t sure. But he got his wish as he beat the two men to a pulp. He wasn’t sure how far he’d have gone if not for the arrival of the gang the Joker’s men were supposed to meet with.

They slashed his back with knives. Shallow wounds, easy to manage. By the time Red Hood turned to face them, the others had arrived-- Batman, Nightwing, Robin. And boy were they pissed.

Jason winced as the hot water hit the cuts on his back. He rolled his shoulders and just let the steam ground him. He didn’t kill again, even if every time that green-haired bastard got involved, he went off the rails.

He would get to choose his own path, not the one Bruce wanted for him, but damn well not the one Thalia wanted for him either. This story was his, he reminded himself while gingerly toweling off. Even if he couldn’t look his own reflection in the eye.

He gripped the countertop, staring down as he let his hair drip into the sink. No, he wasn’t feeling desperate enough to see if his eyes were green again.

Damnit, he had to apologize to Babs. He felt calmer now, but he’d been a real dick when he came in. Jason dressed quickly in sweatpants and an old shirt, then padded quietly back to where he knew his sister would be at the computers.

“Hey,” he said, knocking softly when he entered to announce his presence. Barbara didn’t respond for a moment. She was leaning forward in her chair, typing something into one monitor while listening to police chatter, then nodded to herself and sat back.

“Hey.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Robin told me what happened on patrol.”

Jason scowled. “That little tattletale.”

Barbara offered him a reassuring smile. “That little tattletale is the only reason I didn’t hack into your bank account and order a damn pony.”

“Well shit Babs, maybe I like ponies,” Jason snarked back, but his heart wasn’t into it. “Listen... I’m sorry about earlier. If replacement talked to you already, you know what kind of mood I was in, but that’s no excuse.”

Babs turned her chair to face him and held out her hand. He stepped forward and took it, and she said, “We know you’re trying, Jay. Stuff like this? This is who you are. A year ago, you wouldn’t have been caught dead apologizing to me!” She cringed. “Ah, no offense.”

He chuckled. “None taken, it’s about time you started getting in on the undead jokes.” He patted her hand before walking away back to the main space of the cave. “But thank you, it means a lot.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth!” She raised her voice and turned back to face the computer.

Dick and Tim were already waiting in the cave. Tim was fiddling with some beds and what looked like opaque ski goggles. He always fidgeted when he was nervous.

“Hey replacement,” Jason shouted across the room. He noticed Dick bristle, but cut him off before he could get the patented older brother speech. “How much time ‘til the launch?”

Tim’s eyes lit up, and damn him for caring, but Jason just didn’t want them to be afraid of him.

* * *

Connor and Zatanna were washing dishes in the Cave’s kitchen after dinner. Connor heard the distant sound of someone arriving via zeta tube. He let Zatanna know as they finished drying their plates, then followed her to go greet their visitors.

Wally and Artemis staggered into the room, both weighed down by overflowing boxes of equipment.

“Oh thank god, please help me!” Artemis said, spotting Connor. He obliged and easily took the heavy box from her. She rubbed her arms and smiled gratefully as he held it aloft in one hand.

“It must be so handy having him around,” she sighed to Zatanna.

The magician giggled. “It certainly has its perks, but....” She lifted her hands and said clearly, “Flesruoy egnarra.” The contents of the boxes, some assorted cots, VR headsets, and computers, floated up and placed themselves into a neat formation. “A girl can get by by herself.” She gave Artemis a fistbump.

The zeta tube activated and they all looked up to watch it. The AI announced Wondergirl, and Cassie Sandsmark walked out. She looked up from her phone and waved. “Oh hey guys, whatcha doing?”

Wally zoomed around the set-up Zatanna had created. “We’re just setting up to play this new virtual reality game that’s coming out at midnight! What about you?”

“Oh, what a coincidence, I was just--”

Cassie was cut off by the zeta tube activating again. This time it was Bart, carrying Jaime bridal style, and running at full speed. He skidded to a halt, put a very ill-looking Jaime down, and ran a hand through his windswept hair.

“So totally crash! What’s poppin’?” He made finger guns at Connor, Zatanna, and Artemis.

Zatanna started explaining, “Well, like were just telling Cassie, there’s this new video game coming out at midnight and we--”

She was interrupted by the screech of a green pterodactyl swooping in from the zeta tube. It circled once around the high ceilings of the hollowed-out mountain, then landed and shrank into Beast Boy.

“Just a heads up, Arsenal’s right behind me and he’s a little angry-- oh what are you guys doing?”

Connor was getting frustrated now. “We’re trying to get set up for this new video game that’s launching in five minutes, so if you guys wouldn’t mind--”

A small explosion sounded from the door to the exterior of the island. Roy burst in amidst a cloud of dust.

“Hope I’m not late, I lost my phone.” He sounded like he was in a bad mood.

Bart whispered to Connor, “He means he destroyed his phone.”

Roy dusted off his pants, then looked to Wally and Artemis and asked, “The hell are you doing here?”

“AUGH,” Artemis had had enough. “We’re here to play the video game coming out at midnight! If you want to join us, fine, but if you don’t then get out.” She pointed to the zeta tubes.

Garfield tried to placate her. “Sheesh, it’s just a game! No need to get so worked up.”

Jaime gave him an incredulous look. “Weren’t you just throwing a tantrum yesterday about Bart kicking your ass halfway to Bialya in Smash?”

“...Noted.” Garfield answered.

“Well, looks like we’ve got plenty of hands to help get everyone set up. Let’s get to it!” Cassie expertly maneuvered the two teams away from setting off their more explosive members. They distributed headsets and assigned reclining positions without further delay.

* * *

Marinette put the headset on and laid down on her bed.

“Ready to go back?” Tikki asked her.

She gave the little god a grin. “Definitely.”

In the distance, the bells in Notre Dame chimed six times, but Marinette couldn’t hear them. Her mind had gone somewhere far, far away. Somewhere new.

[sibsteria]

seasons of love [jonathan crane]

Life in the Gotham crime world was content, no motives for murder aside from that being an overall activity. Grudges were dealt with, there was no reason to terrorise people, except for enjoyment. Jim Gordon was still participating in his ball-ache of a saint boy act but what was new about that. It was snowing. Gotham, for the first time, was viewed as beautiful. If anyone wanted to leave, now would be the time.

Smooth Christmas music came from the shopping centre's intercom, shoppers adorned in green and red hues. And to top it all off, Jonathan Crane and his girlfriend sat joyously in a café...

"I admire the way you handled that." I hummed to the brunette boy. "Normally I would've witnessed your awkward self but I gotta say, your anxiety is getting better every day." I finished off. "That's all on you, Angel, without you there is no me." I couldn't help but soften my face at him, how could someone be so cute? "Have I ever told you how much I love you?" I took a sip of my coffee, gingerbread infused goodness. "I don't know, maybe every day I've known you." He smiles, I love it when he smiles, it suits him greatly. "So, what's up after this?" I question him. "You'll have to wait and see." I squinted at him, awaiting his real answer. "Okay, we're going to the park, it's practically abandoned due to the snow, perfect right?" He breaks, showing his real plan. "Absolutely."

°°°

"Right up here on this bandstand was were we watched idkHow, about a month ago?" He pitched up his voice in question during the final words. "Aye, that's right, what showmen they were. Incredible." I dazed of dreamily, accounting the night. "And-" He grabbed onto my shoulders and moved me a few feet left. "About here is were we stood afterwards, the stars looking down on us." I never knew he remembered that, so sweet. By now it was sunset in Gotham, hypnotic peaches and pinks graced the above, spilling a masterpiece on the sky and reflecting on the snow. "We've been through so much over the years, haven't we?" I spoke. "Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I met you before everything." He said, unfinished. "We've been together for three years now, doesn't seem like enough." He added. "We could've been married by now-" My heart leaped thinking about the far gone opportunity. "Things in Gotham are too dangerous now, for starting a family." I couldn't lie, he was speaking truth, I never will stop wondering that if we got out in time we could've had that. "Which is why-" I turned my head to face him and not the illuminate sky. "I'm asking you if you will move away with me- and before you ask, I've got connections. It's all figured out, that is, if you want to." He stumbled over the last part, I could feel my vital organs embedded in my throat. "Jon- that would be wonderful, I won't ask you how because I don't know if I want to know but...this is a real opportunity for us." I could feel my tear ducts expanding and water roll down my red cheeks, the cold had added a natural blush. He began again "But as well as that, I need to ask you-" He started to descend onto the bandstand floor. He pulls out a square box receiving an astonishing princess cut ring, with an iridescent gemstone laying in the centre. "Will you marry me? I figured, no point preparing a speech because we've been through so much and I just want to be with you and-" I cut him off by kneeling down and pressing my cold lips against his, even in the harshest of weather, he still managed to attain warmth. "So a yes?" He begs, whispering in hope. "It's a yes, when are we getting out of here?" I laugh, smiling promptly. He slips the band over my finger and fumbles for a second before pulling out his phone. "Now if you're up for it, I can get our stuff sent over by next week and I know it's a long wait but I thought sooner rather than later would be ideal-" I cut him off with another brain busting, lip bruising kiss. "Stop rambling, let's go, I couldn't give a shit about my two suit cases of crap. I still have my uncles birthday gift money in my bank, let's go." I urge him to stand, he presses some digits before taking my hand and whisking me to the far end of the park. Here we go, leaving Gotham for good...