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osiiiris · 1 year ago

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South of Heaven - Part I [IYRIN spin off - Terzo x OC]

Rating: Explicit, nsfw, sex, mental health issues, abuse, religious trauma, lemon, mental instability, mind manipulation, explicit language, biblical imaginary, violent couple fight, blood and injuries, violence, crossover fic.

Pairing: Papa Emeritus III / OC, Cardinal Copia / OC, Papa Emeritus III / Omega (mention), Alpha / OC (mention).

Crossover: Ghost/Metallica.

Summary: A group of rival satanists attacks the Ministry. Iyrin, now a fallen Angel, is struggling with their new demonic condition, and things between them and Papa Emeritus III are not going as they both expected. Terzo’s revenge against the rival satanists during a Metallica concert only makes things worse.

Part I | Part II | Part III

I’m posting because sometimes one just have to go on. I can’t keep changing things and get stuck on the same sentence forever. It is a 3 chapter fic, already written down so 1 chapter per week. And yes, it is a crossover fic starring Metallica in one of the chapters.

The main story, IYRIN, is on Wattpad and AO3.

This spin off chapter, The New Inner Circle, is on Wattpad, AO3 and down here 👇🏻

Part I. The New Inner Circle.

“ The night we met I knew I needed you so, and if I had the chance I'd never let you go… ”

The little plastic horns attached to their headphones' headband followed the rhythm of the music as they lightly moved their heads while walking down the hallway.

The sun had risen only a little before, but they were already awake to witness that spectacle from the window of the Papal’s bedroom. As the Ronettes' song played on, a burnt smell began to tickle their sensitive nose.

They frowned but continued hopping through the almost-empty corridor. Maybe someone nearby was smoking something strong.

“ So won't you say you love me? I'll make you so proud of me, we'll make 'em turn their heads every place we go… ”

They often strolled around the abbey with music in their ears at unusual hours, helping drown out the voices they claimed to hear inside their heads. Sometimes in the heart of the night or at the first light of morning, the only sound through the corridors was their soft voice singing some joyful melody.

The smell of smoke intensified uncomfortably, and while no one seemed to be awake until a few minutes before, they started to notice more people all converging in the same direction.

“ Be my baby now… Whoa-oh-oh-oh … oh.”

Iyrin halted and slowly freed their ears from the large headphones, frowning at the scene before them. In front was the main entrance of the Ministry, and the crowd around the large door couldn’t hide the consequences of what had likely happened during the last hours of the night, when parties were over and everybody was defeated by tiredness or intoxication. They turned at the touch of a hand on their shoulder. It was Terzo, probably still half-asleep when called for the emergency, judging by the way he was still trying to adjust his cassock.

“Are you okay? What happened?” he asked, anxiously.

“I don’t know, I just arrived,” Iyrin shrugged, as shocked as him. “Looks like a fire.”

“Well, a door doesn’t catch fire by itself…” And with that, he walked past them to meet the group of people gathered at the entrance. Iyrin followed soon after, observing the scene, confused like all the others.

The large entrance doors had been destroyed at the bottom half, where the fire had started, leaving the entrance open. The only coverage now came from the surviving wood of the top half and a part of the right side. Luckily, the fire hadn’t spread inside, but it had ruined the marble of the entrance and the closest furniture. As Terzo had said, the door didn’t catch fire by itself. A ghoul handed him a letter and the knife used to pin it on the external wall of the building, probably by the perpetrator of the attack. Terzo read it briefly, nervously jiggling at the content.

“Ah, what’s this? 1991 again? Is Burzum back with his shit?” He shook his head, as if talking to himself.

“What’s written?” Iyrin asked.

Terzo folded the letter, “We’ll discuss it in an emergency meeting. I need Sister Imperator.”

A nun stepped forward, stopping the Papa from walking away. “Papa,” she began, timorously, “they have made a sacrifice.”

Terzo frowned at her words. “A sacrifice…?”

“A cat,” the nun lowered her gaze, “Can’t tell which one, it is… carbonized.”

Iyrin saw his nostrils widen as he took the longest, raging breath before blinking.

“Go look for Bastet,” he ordered whoever was listening, barely turning his head in their direction.

Iyrin widened their eyes at the realization, immediately moving through the corridor with a fast pace, followed by a couple of nuns.

“ Hello Scooby-Doo cocksuckers.

This is the devil speaking to you. The real one, not the one you pretend to worship.

Did you like the surprise?

We’ll be signing Master of Puppets, waiting for you in the pits of hell if you have the balls. We’ll make sure you find us.

Death to the Ghost faggot.

Signed, The New Inner Circle. ”

“Is this a fucking joke?” Secondo rhetorically asked with an amused smirk, clearly not taking that seriously. “Did they really name themselves The New Inner Circle*?”

“I would have much preferred it to be a Christian group... Satanists fighting each other is just ridiculous,” a cardinal commented soon after, slowly shaking his head.

“They quote Metallica, and they don’t even know me and James are close friends,” Terzo considered. The letter was still in his hand after reading it to the attendees of the emergency meeting. “At the very least, they’re just a bunch of bored kids.”

“Let’s find those kids and beat the shit out of them then,” a Ghoul proposed. “Let’s show them what Hell really looks like.”

“That’s an idea,” Terzo agreed.

Iyrin took the floor, trying to inject some logic into the discussion. “Before jumping to conclusions, what was the mention of Master of Puppets? A figure of speech or—”

“A concert,” observed a Ghoul. “Metallica is playing in town in a couple of days. Some of us were already planning to go there.” Then added, “It looks like an invitation.”

“So we know where to find them. They must be local folks.”

“You wouldn’t think of going personally to the gig,” Iyrin said, taking for granted that Terzo would never do such a reckless thing but still scared to know his answer.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“Your Unholiness—”

“You can’t go; it’s too dangerous,” Sister Imperator finally spoke, echoing the fallen Angel, who just gave her a long, cold glance. The fact that Iyrin was present to the majority of meetings and councils was a condition the woman struggled to stand, usually making it clear whenever she could.

Terzo just shrugged, as if it was nothing to worry about. “I know the band personally; we’ll have a free pass everywhere in the venue. All I need is a group of Ghouls with me to find those assholes.”

A couple of ghouls leaned forward. “I’m in,” they declared, followed by many others.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. What if it’s a trap?” Iyrin looked at him again. The worry in their tone suggested they were talking to him like Terzo and not Papa anymore, but he just ignored their stare.

“We’ll discuss it later. Let me do my job.”

“Well, you have to do it better then.”

Terzo just sighed, nervous, but ignored them again and the fact that all around them had heard that. He adjusted himself in the chair. “This is the letter they left and the knife they hung it with. Track down what you need to find them. We are going to the concert.” He stated, leaning the letter and the knife on the table, towards the ghouls. “If anyone has something against it, can just stay here waiting for further instructions when I’ll be back.” He finished the sentence turning directly to Iyrin, speaking more to them than to the rest of the attendees.

That said, he declared the meeting concluded, with no other opposition.

Terzo remained seated at the table as Iyrin attempted to approach him, waiting patiently for most people to leave the room. They had been careful to avoid explicit interactions or displays of affection in public, mindful of potential gossip within the Clergy.

However, any intention of conversation vanished when Terzo spoke up.

“How many times did I tell you not to fucking call me out in public?” His words weren't a question requiring an answer, and he didn't even turn to face them.

“Alright,” the Grigori sighed, rolling their eyes, then moved away from his irritated Unholiness.

Things were far from easy. Since Iyrin's conversion, their relationship had been a constant roller coaster of beautiful ups and unbearable downs.

Very few people had heard Terzo raise his voice in anger off the stage. In his youth and during uncontrolled possession episodes, if the rage he displayed was once silent—manifesting as a raspy, low voice resembling more of an evil growl than a scream—assisting Iyrin's torments revealed how loud he could become when pushed to his limit, and sometimes beyond.

Their fights had been frequent, desperate, and sometimes violent. Doors slammed so hard that they made walls tremble, and objects were thrown on walls and the floor, especially by Iyrin. Unable to channel the chaos of the forces battling inside them, Iyrin couldn't recognize the hate and anger feelings, unknown to them before that moment, that clumsily tried to pour out on the person they were connected with the strongest feelings.

Needless to say, Sister Imperator wasn’t happy with the situation, to put it euphemistically. She despised Iyrin and their influence on Terzo, either positive or negative, always looking skeptical towards them, never directly talking to the fallen Angel, and trying to change Terzo’s mind about them at any given occasion. Some feared it was just a matter of time before they could see Iyrin walk down the Abbey corridors in papal facial paint. More than once, members of the Clergy had expressed their fear to Sister Imperator that Terzo could choose the fallen Angel as his successor, given how highly he seemed to regard that creature, despite the frequent fights.

Very few members of the Clergy considered it a safe situation. Their baptism ritual hadn’t been enough to convince the Clergy of the true intentions of the Angel. Nobody had ever dealt with one before, and the private meetings that excluded Terzo had multiplied since Iyrin was introduced to the Ministry. However, Terzo wasn’t one eager to follow advice and common sense.

But their attitude wasn’t the only change the conversion had brought.

Vanity, not one of their characteristics until they embraced the influence of their former chief, Azazel, was now occasionally reflected in the thick kajal lines they sometimes wore around their eyes, new ways of styling their hair and a growing interest for luxury clothing and accessories. Terzo had also found a new stress reliever in painting their nails black.

Although lust was one of the aspects that mostly had surfaced by their conversion, Iyrin was rarely seen at orgies and parties, and never in black masses. They hadn’t completely rejected their heavenly past as a creature of God, even though, for obvious reasons, they couldn’t practice the Catholic cult anymore. The only cult symbol they still wore was a Grucifix pin on all their outfits, positioned on the heart as a sign of devotion to Terzo, more than to the project itself.

Despite becoming a fallen Angel, closer to a Ghoul in their energy, they retained most of their naïf nature and a gift rarely seen in a place like the Ministry: a profound empathy for every kind of creature. However, they also developed the strongest negative feelings with consequences that were rather chaotic.

As a result, Terzo had progressively reduced their own presence in all their usual activities, causing half of the Sisters of Sin to hate the now fallen Angel. They blamed them for the reduced occasions to meet the Papa, while the other half started to love them for their capability to relieve the love suffering that Terzo still caused every now and then. Iyrin was slowly trying to gain more approval among the siblings, the same way Terzo had started to do with the audience: by offering support, understanding, and a shoulder to cry on. Terzo often suspected it was a kind of professional deformation, where every sibling’s confession about him was new information to be piled up in their brain and spit out at the most convenient occasion.

The extension of the cult developed around Terzo, outside but mostly inside the Ministry, had paradoxically grown more as he had started to show himself less, and began to show at the Abbey when many Sisters of Sin dyed their hair blonde to try to look like Iyrin and catch the Papas' attention, once the gossip spread about that new favorite partner. Some nuns even started dieting to try to reach their impossible proportions. Funny thing was, Terzo never really had an aesthetic preference, but it was rather amusing to see all those blonde heads during orgies.

But what really upset the Clergy, was that Terzo has proved himself to be a charismatic leader and a brilliant frontman for Ghost, surpassing the achievements of any previous Pontiff. The success of Meliora opened doors to a broader audience, and Terzo's performances, deviating from institutional norms, swiftly became iconic, especially with the drastic wardrobe change for himself and his Ghouls. He claimed the non-liturgical attire made him feel more connected and accepted by the crowd, contradictorily adopting a stronger preaching style than his predecessors. He had just started to talk, communicate with the people, actively driving them to his cause, not expecting the people to find a reason to join by standing mute and still like useless statues. He had just stepped off the pedestal, giving people the illusion of being reachable, perhaps just by extending a hand towards the stage if you were really lucky that day, but his words were what the Clergy feared the most.

He succeeded where Sister Imperator expected a swift failure, and what frustrated her the most was that whenever she anticipated a mistake, he managed to achieve triumph.

Iyrin walked past the doors that led to the garden, where the Sisters of Sin were taping handwritten signposts to invite people to promptly close the doors when passing by to prevent the cats from going outside. A note also informed that the felines were still free to roam inside the internal cloister. They set the cowl of their winter habit over their head and ventured outside.

In the garden, they found Primo sitting on a stone bench under the surprisingly warm sun rays, seemingly enjoying the cool air at the end of winter. Unlike Secondo, he didn’t participate as much in the activities of the Clergy anymore; having spent his entire life in the service of the Church, he just wanted to enjoy his last years in a quiet retirement.

Iyrin’s ritual had been a spectacle attended by half the clergy. Surprisingly, once informed, Primo had been the most interested in the event. After the initial shock of learning that an Angel had been kept in the Ministry, their decision to become a fallen had awakened ancient curiosities in him. Being the most diligent of the three brothers, he was thrilled to attend such an unusual ritual taking place before his eyes.

Him and Secondo were in the first row of the chapel, which was filled like maybe only the papal investment ceremonies were. Sister Imperator was absent, though, like Copia and all her strict collaborators, even though some had sworn to have seen the Cardinal appear at the back of the chapel, sneaking in for a short time.

Although Terzo had suggested Baphomet for their duality and balance, Iyrin had chosen to reunite with their former chief, Azazel, now one of the highest-ranked demons at Satan’s side, master of corruption and vanity, once chief of the Grigori order and among the first angels to rebel and fall.

Iyrin had performed almost the totality of the ritual by themselves in Aramaic, the earthly mother tongue of both, with the assistance of Papa Emeritus III, and his blood offered as a sacrifice. “If I have to be damned,” they had said, “I’ll make sure it will be by my own hands.” More than a ritual, it had been, in fact, the event of a holy creature communicating and connecting with the underworld, in a way nobody had ever practiced in the Abbey. Terzo liked to brag about it, adorning himself with the merits of that conquest.

After the initially skeptical reception, Primo had gradually grown fond of the fallen angel; one could often find them strolling in the garden, arm in arm, discussing theology and magical matters, or working together on supervising sermons and students' papers. They also enjoyed light conversations about music and their shared passion for The Beatles. He found in Iyrin a new, direct source to expand his knowledge, gaining insights from someone who had witnessed firsthand the stories he had only read in books.

“A bit of hustle at the Ministry today, huh?” he started, opening only one eye when he felt the Angel closer.

“We are victims of an attack by a group of rival Satanists, apparently,” then they just added, “Isn’t it a bit too cold to stay outside?”

“I was informed,” he just said, no emotion betraying his firm tone.

“Aren’t you surprised?”

“Internal conflicts among Satanists are an old issue that never fails to surprise me. And, anyway, today is a lovely day, and a bit of cool air can only do good to my old shell,” he quietly reflected. It wasn’t unusual to see him outside, in the garden, under unfavorable weather. He claimed it helped him stay in touch with the elements and the force of nature, while Terzo just considered it a weird habit of a bored retired old man apparently tired of living.

He gestured somewhere beyond the Grigori, “Be patient, Asa, could you please hand me a tangerine from that tree?”

Iyrin hid the spontaneous smile at the way he had called them; they walked towards the tree, reaching the lowest fruits. While roaming their hands through branches and leaves, a quick spring caught their attention: a small mouse briefly looked at them, sitting on a branch, then it ran down the trunk. Now that the cats were confined inside, the rats would thrive, they thought.

They walked back with four tangerines: two for Primo, one for the Ghoul sitting at a comfortable distance, and one for themselves.

“How come you don’t participate in Councils anymore? Your opinion would be very helpful in such situations.”

Primo just shook his head lightly, inspecting the fruit in his hand. “I won’t be of any help to who is deaf and blind.”

Iyrin looked down, immediately understanding who he was talking about. “Sometimes he just doesn’t want any replies to the things he decides. He’s very determined.”

“Only sometimes?” He asked rhetorically, finally peeling the thick skin of the fruit, “Listening and negotiation are crucial abilities for a leader. Unfortunately, Terzo lacks both qualities, along with many others that will get him in trouble one day. That’s why I opposed his promotion." He took one slice and added “Determination is a good quality when it is sided by a strong vision, but he’s losing that. Maybe all this success is not doing good to someone like him.”

“That’s why maybe he would benefit from guidance like yours.”

But Primo just shook his head again. “I won’t be as tolerant as you or obliging as Secondo,” he swallowed the fruit, moving his lips in a shadow of a smirk, “My patience is not what it used to be. How is it going with your voices, instead?” He quickly changed the topic.

The Angel just sighed, looking somewhere away from them. “Sometimes they whisper and sometimes they scream. Music is helping.”

“One day you’ll have to start listening to them; our Lord is speaking to you, and sometimes his ways are difficult to understand.” Talking to him, sometimes you could lose sight of the fact he was talking of Satan and not God. “He is in all things, in all feelings that make our skin crawl or our head spin, inside and outside of us. You need to keep the door open for Him.”

They nodded, swallowing the fruit. They thought it was a strange trick of fate to pass from a silent God to such an invasive one.

“How is it going with the soap I made for you then?” this time it was them who changed the topic.

“Oh, look.” his face softened like he just remembered something beautiful, “You’ve done a miracle. The irritation is almost completely gone. I haven't felt my skin so soft in years.” He slid off one of the gloves to show the skin of his hands, visibly improved. Winter hadn’t been gentle with his hands, already damaged by a lifetime of glove covering, provoking irritations and wounds to his delicate skin that regular creams and soaps didn’t help. Nothing comparable to the healing powers of a Watcher and their knowledge in alchemy.

“I’ll prepare some more, then. And some cream, too.” they said, taking his uncovered hand into theirs to warm it up. “But let’s go inside now, before the cold does its damage again.”

Neither of them had noticed Terzo standing by one of the windows of his office, observing them talking for a few minutes.

He was relieved to know that he could rely on his older brother's support in taking care of Iyrin while he was away on tour or for promotion. Yet, upon his return, he had to confront the reality of what it meant to be in the initial phases of possession.

He turned only when he heard the familiar voice of Sister Imperator call for him. “Did you ask for me?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, taking his place at the large desk. It was still early in the morning, and he knew he wouldn’t probably leave that room until the sun would set again, “We need to talk about the security of the Ministry.”

Imperator just nodded, taking her seat.

Hours later, Terzo was easing Iyrin down on the numerous pillows of his bed; the hair of the Grigori spread waves of pale platinum on the purple sheets.

“Ah… look at you…” he mumbled while unbuttoning his shirt. “And I’m lucky enough to come back to my room to this fine, warm devilish creature waiting for me in my bed…” He got rid of the shirt, letting it fall to the floor, leaving his slightly defined abs exposed, and revealing the reason why the highest rank figures were covered from head to toe: a thick map of cuts and scars on both arms that didn’t spare hands and palms, testimony of years of rituals. Soon he knelt on Iyrin, kissing them with impatience.

Sex was still amazing, but it wasn’t always enough to distend the fallen angel’s nerves whenever a trigger made their brain click. That night, though, it was Terzo who needed his nerves distended after the long day he had been through.

Iyrin adjusted on the pillows, looking at him. “I wasn’t waiting for you. You literally dragged me in.”

“I said waiting for me in my bed... ”

“And your cat is staring at us again.”

At the door, Bastet was sitting on the floor, looking at the scene until she just decided to leave them alone and roam somewhere else. She had gotten used to Iyrin’s presence only after their conversion and seemed to barely tolerate them, but the Angel still felt slightly embarrassed by the cat’s constant stare in those intimate moments. It had taken the help of four Sisters to finally find her, curled up among the warm sheets of the laundry, welcoming the nun who found her with the widest, careless yawn. It turned out that the sacrificed cat was still one of the Ministry colony, named Maudit. Terzo was incredibly hurt by that, even if relieved it wasn’t his personal cat.

Satan must have blessed the sacrifice, as only a few days later, three new lives would come to light in the colony. One of the kittens, chosen by Terzo himself, would be named after Maudit (II).

“See? She’s gone… she feels unwelcome,” he lazily joked. “Where have you been all day anyway?”

“I was with Primo, talking about soaps.”

“Uhm, ok.” He just cut in between one kiss and the other.

But something was stopping Iyrin from really enjoying that moment of intimacy. It didn’t take long for them to speak again. “Terzo.”

Terzo’s face rose from their neck, where his lips were busy kissing it in a failed attempt to ignore them. “Yes, darling?”

“You literally shut me up at the meeting.”

Terzo blinked, “I told you we’d discuss whatever you were saying. Just not there.”

“That was the place to discuss.” They observed. “You never let me speak when there is someone else listening.”

“You mean I don’t let you publicly scold the Pontiff with your indelicate sarcasm?” The conversation didn’t stop him from sliding down the fallen angel’s underwear, with his eyes still fixed on their face. “What are you afraid of?”

Iyrin arched and moaned softly when he caressed their inner thigh all the way up, softly rubbing his thumb where it connected to the groin. “Just… I’m not really sure of this concert idea.”

“The band will be playing in a small venue, I’ll have enough Ghouls to track those cunts down, and you.” Again, his mouth searched for their skin, leaving a damp trail from the collarbone to the jaw while teasing their sensitive area. “You’re coming, right?”

“It will be very hard.” They reflected, adjusting to his touch. Terzo took one of their hands just to place it on his crotch, inviting them to take some kind of action. Iyrin distractedly committed to it, starting to lightly caress him while overthinking. He was indeed hard. “A small venue is still thousands of people; it will be hard to differentiate all energies in that mess. Everybody will be hyped up, creating mixed signals. The Ghouls will be terribly excited.”

Terzo delved on their neck again, biting and kissing whatever he could. His hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it with a certain rush. “Oh yeah… excited…”

“Dear Lord, Terzo! Are you listening?”

Terzo stopped and sighed, loudly, getting the idea there would probably be no sex that night if he didn’t pay attention to them. “If we don’t find them, they will probably attack us again to get our attention. I’ll have the security around the Ministry reinforced.” He nodded, like to cement those words. He cradled the Grigori’s hand in his, caressing it lightly. “It’s been a long time since I last attended a concert as a guest. Even if they don’t show up, it will be worth it anyway.” He reassured. “Take it as a night out. Metallica are my close friends, it’s going to be fun. You always say I need to get distracted sometimes. Won’t you like a bit of fun with me?”

Iyrin looked down, pondering. “What if you find them? What are you going to do with them?”

He just shrugged, “Having a little conversation?” but his answer sounded rather incomplete. He probably didn’t have any plan and would just come up with something with what he liked to do best: improvise.

Iyrin nodded, even if still doubtful. “You can’t wait to create a bit of mayhem, don’t you?”

“… Well, that’s one of my evil specialties.” He smirked, then he became more serious again. “Are you coming, then? I’ll need at least one brain there to assist me.”

Iyrin nodded again, then sighed. “If you’re crazy, I’ll just be crazy with you.”

“Good…” He just kissed them on their cheek, closer to the angle of their lips, leaning on them again. “Now show a little love to your Papa for once… I need you to come tonight too.”

___ Notes:

*The Inner Circle was the name given to a group of self proclaimed Satanists, that involved the Norwegian black metal band Mayhem and Burzum. During the end of the 80s and beginning of 90s they committed a series of crimes, like catholic cemetery desecration, catholic church burning and murders, but they targeted also metal bands that weren’t “Satanists enough” in their opinion. Terzo refers to these episodes when he says “Ah, what’s this? 1991 again? Is Burzum back with his shit?”

#the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band #papa emeritus lll #terzo x oc #papa emeritus terzo #terzo x omega #cardinal copia #papa emeritus i #primo emeritus #terzo emeritus #terzo fanfiction #secondo emeritus #sister imperator

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genshoomf · 1 year ago

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i made a konni oc purely for gf and i's the boys au hi ✌ name: jason jacob taylor, gold rush

age: 32 (d.o.b july 1th, 1991) - graduated godU/contracted 2012 - 'retired' 2020, joins konni 2021 gender: cis man from: long beach, california personality: fairly easygoing and relaxed, social and active. far from stupid but a little naive and easily trusting. long fuse temper-wise and not super confrontational, but had a mean competitive streak beaten into him while at godolkin and from childhood competitions. easily stressed at the idea of not 'winning' or not living up to expectations but also easily mollified by praise/friendly behavior in others. a little spoiled from so much hero treatment i.e missing a lot of practical life skills. surprisingly deep well of metallurgy knowledge beyond just using his abilities. description: 6’2", white tanned/freckled, shaggy curly blonde with a lot of sun/ocean bleaching, blue-green eyes. pretty type handsome, big eyes, high cheekbones and pointed nose.

history:

powers manifested young, parents branded & marketed him before double digits but dad divorced and left ~10 due to no longer agreeing with the dosing and seeing his son be sold as a commodity. lots of kids surf competitions to solidify the cali boy thing. teen group + some early heroics put him on the map and made him recognizable.

went to godolkin on a scholarship at 18 and maintained a top 5 ranking after freshman year, and a top 3 until graduation. partied a decent bit but passed up more than a few social opportunities to actually maintain his crimefighting grades.

immediately contracted to his home city long beach and rebranded as 'gold rush'. used for typical vought branding on many things but mainly energy drinks, surfboards, and jewelry lines. relative to other supes he remained decently on the straight and narrow, enjoyed the fame and movies etc but lamented not having much time to actually surf anymore.

good public ratings for most of his career, actual good rescue stats/low collateral, bought pretty hard into the Being Heroes part of vought because he'd given them nearly his entire life and it was all he knew.

had two notable public relationships during his time as a contracted supe. first girlfriend from when he was 21-23, weather manipulator, made a lot of mistakes due to being young stupid and blinded by the fame

second gf from 25-28, plant manipulator, did a lot better with her to the point of planning on proposing but was dumped before his 29th birthday after being told he was fun but not husband material. deeply in his feelings about it for a while

2020, was told he should 'retire' because long beach wanted to contract a fresh godolkin graduate just like they'd done for him because he was getting "old". felt intensely betrayed by this but was strong-armed into leaving with grace or else vought would make his life very difficult, so he shut up and went through his farewell fame despite becoming violently disillusioned with vought during it.

turned quickly to resentment and was contacted by someone in konni's inner circle with the typical 'aren't you tired of being nice. don't you want to go apeshit' and joined soon after. part of the team that extracted makarov from vought confinement

abilities: flight (peak human lung capacity, aerial adaptation), metal manipulation (matter surfing, metal constructs, platform manipulation), enhanced condition (strength, reflexes, stamina, senses)

flight is it’s own ability and classified as pure gravity defiance - jason is essentially choosing at all times when to be affected by gravitational pull, which allows him to fly but also hover and walk on vertical surfaces just as easily as the ground. he’s capable of carrying anything within his capacity while in flight but they remain affected by gravity

maximum speed of flight clocks in at around 700 mph, subsonic. he’s unable to break the sound barrier but is faster than commercial jets

to withstand the effects of his flight, jason has an increased lung capacity, able to hold his breath for 30 minutes as high as the troposphere, and vastly decreased incriments past that - with the highest he can fly being the edge of the stratosphere with 1 minute of lung capacity

his body further adapts to high and low air pressure passively, allowing him to stay conscious and unharmed as long as he can still breathe. he’s also immune to the effects of g-force when under his own gravity defiance

jason’s control of metal is absolute - any metallic element, any alloy, any state of matter - and telekinetic based, aka coming from mental strength instead of physical. he can’t create matter from nothing but is capable of both ‘stretching’ a base material far past what could be done with it traditionally and turning raw materials (such as iron sand) into a solid mass to manipulate

this extends into being able to create his own unique alloys and change the chemical makeup of any lump metal into another, i.e classic lead into gold. he has complete control over the properties of such metals - alloys that are ultrahard but flexible, altering the color and reflective properties, conductivity, magnetism, solid/liquid state, temperature - and can store these arrangements of alloys to recreate in the future by simple memory

he can manipulate by touch, gesture, and telekinesis. touch allows for extremely intricate detail and fine control, thin wire, meshing etc. jason defaults to gestural which feels the most 'natural' but telekinetic control functions the same. this telekinetic control is fully usable on metal jason cannot see, but he can always ‘feel’ the shape and visualize it mentally

while capable of flight on his own, jason can carry himself or anything on metal constructs or platforms, and can reshape metal to allow himself to ‘skate’ or slide on his feet, along with using constructs to throw matter long distances

trying to manipulate weight beyond his capabilities puts immediate stress on his body, manifesting as immense pressure down his spine

with konni, jason further trains to control the trace metals as they appear in nearly everything, primarily the iron in blood, calcium in bones, and the potassium and sodium in cells. he’s also capable of shifting them into toxic metals alchemically, namely arsenic, lead, or mercury, to poison someone from the inside out

when given the time and focus, he can essentially control the human body like a puppet, but can’t replicate very dexterous tasks like writing or small buttons, etc

jason can interface with and manipulate most technology by triggering impulses in the mechanics like card readers, locks, and computers. he’s also capable of firing guns with telekinetic control, and can stop or redirect bullets if already fired

secondary/passive abilities: peak human durability, peak immune system, peak human regeneration, peak human reflexes, metal detection, advanced level “telekinesis” (usage of metal manipulation)

jason isn’t bulletproof and his skin is only marginally tougher than the average human but his bones, tissue, and organs are highly resistant. he can withstand falls/throws up to 200ft, getting hit by heavy cars, and having medium sized buildings collapse on top of him without breaking bones or suffering internal damage

higher resistance to cold and heat but weak to high voltage electricity

immune/highly resistant to most bloodborne pathogens and viruses, essentially anything that is contagious or can be caught, but still susceptible to things like cancers and organ failure

immune to the adverse effects of his own abilities or things caused by metals, i.e heavy metal poisoning, hemochromatosis, hyperkalemia, hypercalcemia, etc

jason’s regenerative healing factor is slightly quicker than the average supes, and if a wound manages to get past his durability he typically isn’t out of commission long. bone fractures heal within a week or two, and skin-level injuries like burns or large wounds within a few days. these wounds heal completely smooth and leave no scar tissue.

when aware, jason’s reflexes are quick enough that he can catch nearly anything thrown in his direction - including bullets, both physically or with his abilities. his reaction speed while fighting is very high and works in conjunction with manipulating the metal on his person, like shifting into spiked knuckles mid-punch or creating thicker protection against parts of his body to defend himself. it is very, very hard to sneak up on him or catch him unaware

at resting state, jason is aware of every trace of metal within 250ft of him at all times. jewelry, loose change, clothing zips/buckles, devices that contain metal, etc. he compares this sense to hearing, i.e that you hear everything around you always but most mundane noise fades to the background. he can ‘push’ this sense further to a maximum of 500ft, in any direction, with focus - to detect metals deeper underground or into buildings he isn’t in. he intrinsically knows the type of metal when sensing it and can ‘feel’ the shape like a sort of mental image

jason’s manipulation of metal is classified as telekinetic/psionic, coming from mental effort instead of physical (though can be used in conjunction) and therefor has a different lifting strength classification - class 50 compared to his physical class 10. this lifting strength can be anything from one very heavy object or up to 50 tons spread across multiple different constructs. the highly precise control means he can manipulate objects up to his weight limit but also extremely fine molecular-level traces. with extra focus and being ‘gentler’ he can manipulate anything attached to a metal as well. for example while he’s only actually controlling the traces of iron in blood, he can manipulate an entire organ by moving the metals as a whole, like a yolk suspended in the whites of an egg

#this is like 75% abt his abilities bc im a superhero media nerd #but heres my baby i fucking love him!!!!!!!!!!!!#jason

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philiponmycracker · 3 months ago

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A study in expressions Tom Hulce edition, one of my absolute favourite Tom Face moments ever, from The Inner Circle (1991). I get so damn emotional just looking at his expressions here I swear, he's so spectacular it kills me everytime

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lumiereandcogsworth · 2 years ago

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6, 22 and 23 for Adam!

6. What's something you have in common with this character? low self-esteem😎😎😎😎 shdjsjd yeah idk i really connect to adam more than any character ever. and i don’t fully know why but i do resonate a lot with like, idk, his feelings of unworthiness, unworthy of belle’s true love, feeling like he’ll never be loved the way he is. we’re also both autistic but that’s of course a headcanon for him lol. anyway, i don’t have a quick temper but when i’m angry/frustrated i Really Am. i relate to his extreme emotions. sudden bursts of Upset behavior. his deadpanned sarcastic humor. his deep loyalty to the ones he loves. his distaste for like 99% of people that aren’t His Inner Circle of People. being frustrated by change and struggling to adapt. i’m describing so many autistic traits but that’s him that’s me that’s us babey!!!

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like? honestly i am not a BIG fic reader in general. but even more so for adelle specifically because some people’s adelle i just ! don’t vibe with. but from what i do read, i love when adam is just headass in love with belle, as he should be. i love when he’s playful with her, also when he’s nerdy with her. he’s SUCH a dork and that’s an important feature. even though he’s had to suppress that side of himself most of his life, do not be fooled!!! he’s a huge nerd!!

and dislike? idk, i really haven’t read unfamiliar adelle fic in so long… i think i recall being so taken aback when people write him as “athletic” lol. like i get they’re probably writing batb 1991 adam, who is indeed a beefcake, but because i’m always imagining batb 2017 adam, who is Not muscular in the Slightest (not a dig at dan stevens!!! just a personal headcanon that adam’s always been on the scrawny end of the spectrum) i just can’t help but laugh reading that people think adam enjoys Sports™️ and Exercise™️ like sjdksjd have you met that guy. he’d far prefer to spend an afternoon inside reading for hours. if you want athleticism, go talk to his wife! but anyway that’s another reason i don’t really read adelle fic. most of the time it’s set in batb 1991 canon and you’d think it would be the same but Wowza it is not.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

MY BEAUTIFUL BOYYYYYY💙💙💙💙💙

character asks!

#thanks love!!#autumnrose11 #answered #adam #batb 2017

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qnewsau · 10 days ago

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Freddie Mercury's secret daughter speaks out in new book

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/freddie-mercurys-secret-daughter-speaks-out-in-new-book/

Freddie Mercury's secret daughter speaks out in new book

Freddie Mercury had a secret daughter and shared a close relationship with her until his death, according to a new biography of the Queen frontman.

The daughter, who is staying anonymous, has participated in the exciting new book, Love, Freddie, by music biographer Lesley-Ann Jones.

The Daily Mail reports the daughter was conceived accidentally during an affair with the wife of a close friend in 1976.

Only Freddie’s inner circle knew she existed, and he visited her regularly until he died of an AIDS-related illness in 1991.

Before he died, Freddie gave his daughter 17 volumes of personal journals which she kept to herself all these years.

The woman is now 48 and works as a medical professional in Europe, per the Daily Mail.

She’s shared Freddie’s journals with Lesley-Ann Jones, who told the Mail “absolutely sure” they are genuine and will publish details in the new book.

Freddie’s daughter, known only as B, also contributed a handwritten letter in which she writes, “Freddie Mercury was and is my father.

“We had a very close and loving relationship from the moment I was born and throughout the final 15 years of his life.

“He adored me and was devoted to me. The circumstances of my birth may seem, by most people’s standards, unusual and even outrageous.

“That should come as no surprise. It never detracted from his commitment to love and look after me. He cherished me like a treasured possession.”

‘It is time to let Freddie speak’

When Freddie found out about the pregnancy, he started writing the journals on June 20, 1976.

Two days earlier, Queen had released You’re My Best Friend from 1975 album A Night at the Opera.

Freddie wrote of his childhood in Zanzibar where he was born Farrokh Bulsara, to Parsi-Indian parents, on September 5, 1946, and going to school in India.

His family fled Zanzibar in the 1964 revolution before settling in north-west London.

B also explained why she’s shared Freddie’s journals 30 years later.

“After more than three decades of lies, speculation and distortion, it is time to let Freddie speak,” she writes.

“Those who have been aware of my existence kept his greatest secret out of loyalty to Freddie.

“That I choose to reveal myself in my own midlife is my decision and mine alone. I have not, at any point, been coerced into doing this.

“He entrusted his collection of private notebooks to me, his only child and his next of kin.

“[The books are] the written record of his private thoughts, memories and feelings about everything he had experienced.”

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

#books #freddie mercury

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buzzdriftnews · 11 days ago

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Freddie Mercury’s Secret Daughter Revealed—The Untold Chapter of the Queen Frontman’s Life 🎤 A Hidden Legacy Emerges In a revelation that has captivated fans worldwide, a new biography titled Love, Freddie by renowned music writer Lesley-Ann Jones discloses that Freddie Mercury, the legendary frontman of Queen, had a secret daughter. Known only as "B" in the book, she was born in 1976 following an affair between Mercury and the wife of a close friend. This intimate detail remained concealed for nearly five decades, known only to a select few within Mercury's inner circle, including his bandmates, family, and lifelong confidante Mary Austin. The Sun 📖 Love, Freddie: A Glimpse into Mercury's Private World Love, Freddie, set to be published on September 5, 2025, offers unprecedented insight into Mercury's personal life. The biography is based on 17 volumes of Mercury's handwritten journals, which he entrusted to B shortly before his death in 1991. These diaries, kept private until now, provide a candid look into his thoughts, fears, and relationships, offering what is considered the closest account to an autobiography from the enigmatic artist. Blackwell's 💌 A Daughter's Tribute In a heartfelt letter included in the biography, B writes: "Freddie Mercury was and is my father. We had a very close and loving relationship from the moment I was born and throughout the final 15 years of his life." She continues: "He adored me and was devoted to me. The circumstances of my birth may seem, by most people's standards, unusual and even outrageous. That should come as no surprise. It ... He cherished me like a treasured possession." The Sun Now a medical professional residing in Europe, B has children of her own, making Mercury a posthumous grandfather.The Sun 🎶 The Man Behind the Music Born Farrokh Bulsara in Zanzibar in 1946, Freddie Mercury rose to global fame as the lead singer of Queen, captivating audiences with his powerful vocals and dynamic stage presence. Despite his flamboyant public persona, Mercury was known to be intensely private, often shielding his personal life from the public eye. His relationships, particularly with Mary Austin and later Jim Hutton, have been well-documented, but the existence of a daughter adds a profound new dimension to his legacy.Hachette Australia+2Jarrolds+2Amazon+2 📚 A Must-Read for Fans and Historians Lesley-Ann Jones, a seasoned biographer with a deep understanding of Mercury's life and career, has crafted a narrative that delves into the complexities of the rock icon's personal world. Drawing from Mercury's own words and B's personal accounts, Love, Freddie promises to be an essential read for those seeking to understand the man behind the legend. 🛒 Pre-Order Information Love, Freddie is available for pre-order and will be released on September 5, 2025. For more information and to secure your copy, visit Blackwell's.Blackwell's via Blogger https://ift.tt/54EtbTn May 24, 2025 at 12:12AM

#IFTTT #Blogger

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engagementguide · 6 months ago

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Who Inherited Elizabeth Taylor's Fortune? Unpacking the Legacy of a Hollywood Icon

Elizabeth Taylor, one of Hollywood’s brightest stars, left behind not only a legendary career but also a considerable fortune. When she passed in 2011, Taylor’s estate was estimated at over $600 million, including her famous jewelry collection and various properties. Here’s a look at who inherited her wealth and legacy.

Her Four Children: Taylor’s children—Michael and Christopher Wilding, Liza Todd, and Maria Burton—received a significant portion of her estate. She was devoted to her family, and her wealth helped secure their futures.

Grandchildren and Great-Grandchildren: Taylor was close to her grandchildren and left them portions of her fortune. She wanted her legacy to benefit multiple generations, extending her impact within her family.

Charity, Especially AIDS Research: Taylor was a dedicated philanthropist, particularly in AIDS research and advocacy. She founded the Elizabeth Taylor AIDS Foundation (ETAF) in 1991, and a substantial part of her estate was directed toward supporting the foundation’s ongoing work.

Personal Friends and Staff: Known for her generosity, Taylor reportedly left gifts to several close friends and loyal staff members. She valued her inner circle and ensured they were part of her legacy.

Elizabeth Taylor’s estate distribution reflects her love for family, commitment to social causes, and loyalty to those close to her. Her fortune was more than wealth—it was a means to leave a lasting impact.

What’s your favorite memory or piece of Elizabeth Taylor’s legacy?

#elizabeth taylor #jewellery #jewelry collection

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the-last-human-war · 1 year ago

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GodofWar Punisher WarMachine FutureWinterSoldier MolagBal Sauron

God of War Weapons List. Main Feature Versatile List of Specialty Weapons that prove the Most Leverage in Battle

1. Crucible Sword of the DOOMSLAYER

2. Dual-wield with the Crucible Sword: The Pendellum Axe Gun

3. Glaive

4. Chinese Sword that looks like a Straight Katana cuz that Dynasty shared its Designs with Japan.

5. Indian Scimitar of Ghengis Khan

6. Daggertail (Hashshashins Aka Hashshansins Aka Hassansins Aka Grasseaters Aka Original Assassins of Persia). Aka Scorpion's (Razor) Chain Spear.

[Requires Level 7 Security Clearance. Data entry Redacted. TO BE CONTINUED.]

7. God of War - War Machines, Vehicles, Ammo types, Technology, Tactical Gadgets, Defenses, Uncommon Offense, Other Armaments & Provisions, All Warfare and Strategies

1. Rorschach's Journal: Mission Report - December 16, 1991. Remember Remember the 7th of November. Today... A Naked Snake died. Actually, ehem, Redacted. A Stark Snake died. Moscow has lit up like the 4th Floor of Ju-On. It's Chernobyl times 3,572,855... Completely Incalculable. 2. Case File - Guns of the Patriots, and Super-Scarab METAL GEAR Programs, the Engines have been ignited, the Gears of the Train rolling, the Beast shall Roar again. Venom Snake commands Armaments Manufacturers as Director, and Applied Science Advisor & Lead Strategist demonstrating through Simulation how the Armaments of Engineers should perform in the Field. We must remind everyone he is not a Lab Rat, He is BIG BOSS!! What tha fuck does this scrawny guy know!? Hammer Industries? What... You gonna hit em with the Ex-Wife? New Protocol - We will use Iron Man as the Warzone Pin Cushion. 3. .... [BIG BOSS]... These Armament Programs are Perfect, in that they offer An Invasion Force the Most Effective and Efficient Methods of Conquering the Enemy Nation. Considering much Roots from The Art of War, I BIG BOSS apply Originality to All my Arsenal and Tactics. It is most dangerous when a General is completely Unprecedented and uses shit you've never seen. I am Ninja Sennin. I'm a Mind Freak. The first Tactic and Weapon I will use on the Defending Army is Psychological Warfare. To Shock, Traumatize, and Horrify the Enemy. Most especially Terrify the Enemy. But I would say Terror should only be used as the Cherry on Top of the Cake... After you have successfully Conquered their Mind Fortress, then Unleash True Petrifying Panic & Despair upon THEM... 4. .... BIG BOSS... I am very Creative, and very Clever. When I Manufacture Armaments, I Aim to Test the Imaginations of the Enemy. Then again, I let y'all in on a little secret... Most Effective Tactics are actually quite Simple and Savage. Savage as in the Nature of our Ids. Many People with Honor and Dignity, Decorated Generals!!... Don't have the Stomach for True Effective Warfare. This Warfare comes straight from The Red Lantern Corps of MARS. It is everyone's Destiny to undergo the Crucibles of Nirvana, and come Full Circle with One's Self. WAR... Is when We get to UNLEASH OUR INNER DEMONS. .... BIG BOSS... I am Demon Snake. HE IS... THE DOOMSLAYER. Question - How do you DESTROY your Enemy? You see, the End Game of War... Is how do you Aim to Destroy your Enemy. My Methods are Ultimately Flexible in that they consider All the Different Ways you'd like to End your Enemy. Most especially the Ultimate Outcomes: To Convert them into Allies, To Trap their Country in a Hellheim Realm to Torture them for Eternity, To Convert All their Dead into Zombies, To Slaughter and Devour them all for the sake of Cannibal Meat and Nutrition, To Enslave them all FOR DARKSEID, To Lett them all in Fatty Blood Farms for Vampires and probably piss off a lot of Gods in the process, To convert the Elderly into Human Vegetation and Feed the Earth their Bluud, To Let All the Enemy Live yet only to Completely RUIN their Precious Land and Shelters and Purge All their Data and Leave them with a

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bu1410 · 1 year ago

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Good morning TUMBLR - March 11th - 2024

''Mr. Plant has owed me a shoe since July 5, 1971."

Ch. XII.8 - Morocco - 1989 - 1991

AIRPORT TESTING PHASE The airport project entered the decisive phase in October. The time came for the testing of all the aeronautical systems: the tests were carried out by a special ''laboratory plane''. An ATR 42 of ICAO, the body that oversees all civil international aviation activities, was sent to new airport for this pourpose . All the normal interiors of an airplane – seats, overhead bins etc – had been removed and replaced by large computers and data-tracking and recording equipment. I met the two pilots, guys with great experience and unique friendliness. The tests lasted almost two weeks and essentially consisted of flights lasting around 2 hours in the morning and 2 hours in the afternoon (weather permitting) during which the pilots tested and recorded the correct functioning of the radio aids, the ILS (instrument landing system) and the landing strip and so called ''thresholds'' of the runaway. (i.e. whether the runaway coordinates communicated to ICAO were actually correct) PAPI (Precision Approach Pente Indicator the ground instrument that communicates with the aircraft's transponder and indicates to the pilot if he is following the right glide path) was also checked and found precise. The MARKER BEACONS (outer – middle – inner) which indicate to the pilot the precise position of the plane in the air. They were interesting days, especially for me they were a source of daily discoveries. One day the pilot made me sit next to him in the cockpit – at a certain point suddenly, smiling and putting his hands behind his head, he told me:  Well, now the most interesting phase: let's see if this old cart is capable of landing while I keep my eyes closed! I looked at him in horror, but I tried to maintain an attitude as if it were an everyday thing for me to be in the cockpit of a turboprop plane, while is landing on autopilot…… We were flying at about 5,000 feet and 10km from the runway threshold - the plane was stalled, all the alarms were blaring, but the pilot was smiling and didn't seem worried at all. The plane began its descent shakily, with continuous attitude corrections. I thought ''but who made me get on this bulls****t today…'' The radio communications with the control tower intensified as we got closer to the runway. The plane descended steadily and I stared partly at the ground and partly at the pilot who continued to keep his hands behind his head, while the steering moved continuously. Now a few hundred meters from the runway, the pilot took the control steering again, giving the engine full throttle and raising the plane again! We returned to the air without touching the asphalt, and the pilot laughed heartily as he told me:

''Nah…that's not right…we would have crashed…too early and too low…now let's take a lap and try again…'' Pfuuuuuu……I breathed a sigh of relief! We made a wide circle, arriving to fly over Taroudant, about 80 km from Agadir. Then a big turn and we headed back West, all the way to the Atlantic. A new turn put us back on the runway axis. The pilot released the controls once again and the plane in automatic flight mode began its descent again. This time everything went perfectly, the landing was soft without jolts, and we touched the asphalt on the intermediate white signal of the runway threshold. I congratulated the pilot, and then got off the plane, happy to be back ''down to earth''.

BROKEN FIBER OPTIC CABLE The tests had all been successful, there was very little left until the of the inauguration day of the New International Agadir Airport. Opening an airport to national and international traffic is a rather complicated matter. Once the date and time of entry into service has been communicated to ICAO, it becomes extremely difficult to backtrack. The entire aeronautical world had been informed that from midnight on 22 December 1991 the old Agadir airport was beeing abandoned, and that all aircraft heading to Agadir had to reprogram their on-board computers for the new destination, entering the new coordinates. But an incredible accident put airport inauguration in doubt until the last hours, with the associated serious embarrassment for the entire air transport system of Morocco Kingdom in case the opening date and time could not be respected. The ''unthinkable event'' had occurred: an excavator engaged in landscaping work along the airport fence had severed the large fiber optic cable that connected the new airport with the entire world!!! And here I must break a spear in favor of M. Amine El Aouri: in the darkest moment for the entire project of the new airport, after an emergency meeting had been called in the offices of the Project Management, he uttered a sentence that calling it ''historical'' is perhaps not enough:  ''Sourtout il ne faut pas panique' '' !!! (Above all, let's not panic!)

And then Mr. El Aouri added that it was not the time to search for the culprits, the trial was postponed until after the problem had been resolved. A problem that was currently has no solution. The replacement of the entire cable, from the cabin inside the airport to the first junction cabin - approximately 11 kilometers - was immediately discarded. It must be said that repairing an optical fiber cable through welding is an extremely delicate operation, and the result remains in doubt until the acceptance tests on the continuity of the fibers are carried out. But considering the imminence of the opening date of the airport - there were now 6 days to go - there was no other alternative. The decision was taken unanimously: to immediately contact the Finnish company that possessed the know-how and the special welding machine to carry out the repair. And so it was, once the economic agreement was reached, the technicians with the equipment arrived in Agadir two days later. They were put in a position to work 24 hours a day, and the weldings were completed within 48 hours. Another 6 hours of testing - with the entire Works Management holding their breath, aware that their career, in case of failure, was over - and than the cable was declared suitable for the transmission of data and signals.!!!!

THE INAUGURATION'S NIGHT And the long-awaited opening night arrived! It had been decided by the management of the old airport - namely the Director M. El Zakri - that the entry into service of the new airport should take place at midnight on 22 December. The reason was easy to explain: at that time, and for the next 6 hours, no landing was scheduled, and therefore the staff of the old airport - control tower workers, clerks, security workers, police, customs, firefighters , handlers etc would have had plenty of time to move to the new airport and become familiar with their new service environnment. We - the construction people - suddenly we witenessed the airport coming alive with all that human staff that makes an airport ''in service'': not only the technicians, but even the sales women in the new shops, the duty free, the 'newsstand, the cafeterias came into life in those frantic 6 hours. But an unpleasant surprise awaited us: after having roamed freely throughout the airport areas for months, suddenly the police and security barred our way! The airport that had been ''ours'' with the arrival of these ''invaders'' had become ''theirs''......And we, its builders, had become like any traveler or visitor to any airport - we could access only the common areas, we could not enter either the departures or the arrivals. It was forbidden to go up to the terrace, where a splendid ''khaima'' (tent) of laminated wood had been installed. Having made our concerns to M. El Zakri, in the end we were allowed, in a completely exceptional way, to go up to the terrace to witness the inaugural landing. And so it was that from the panoramic terrace we first saw all the runway lights lighting up, and than someone suddenly shouted ''L'AVION L'AVION!!!'' (THE PLANE!!! THE PLANE!!) Yes it was true, the first plane of the first landing on the new runway of the airport ''Al Massira el Qadra'' (it was decided to call it that in honor of the famous Green March) was landing ! And than a screech was heard in the cool Moroccan morning, the wheels of the Air France Airbus had touched the asphalt of the runway!!! Than the braking and the deafening noise of the turbines sent in reverse, and finally the plane approaching the terminal, with the flags of Morocco and France hoisted on the sides of the cockpit. A long round of applause erupted from the small crowd allowed to witness the landing, and the reception committee approached the plane with bouquets of flowers. The pilots and hostesses got out, kisses and hugs and it was truly a great emotion for everyone to see that everything had worked properly!

After just under half an hour a second plane - from German company CONDOR - landed, but it did not cause the same emotion, the effect of the ''first time'' had already disappeared.

RETURN TO ITALY The sad time to say good by to Agadir was arrived...... But before leaving I had a not easy problem to solve.

My Range Rover had remained in Moroccan territory for more than two years without ever leaving it, and that's was not permitted by local law. In theory, not having completed the documents for the temporary importation of the vehicle, every 90 days I would have had to leave Moroccan territory, even for one day only. After which I could easily return with the car for a new period of 90 days. This maneuver would have cost me time and money because, excluding Mauritania to the South and Algeria to the east from the start, I only had the alternative to reach Ceuta (Spanish territory) to the North. This meant over 1,000+1,000 km of state roads every three months! I had given up on this possibility since the beginning of my stay, postponing the solution til the problemat at the project. My friendship with the airport director, M. El Zakri, made it easier for me. I went to his office one morning, and over a mint tea and a pastry I explained the problem to him. He immediately told me not to worry, he knew the Directors of the Tangier airport who knew the Directors of the port of Tangier!!

 Attend, on l'appelle tout de suite....(Wait.....we'll call him immediately) IMr. Al Zakri called M. le Directeur de l'aeroport de Tanger on the phone, and explained to him my ''headache'', describing to him how important my contribution had been in the construction of the new Agadir airport, so that now I deserved to be helped to re-export my car without incurring sanctions that could lead to the seizure of the vehicle. It was sufficient for him, M. le Directeur de l'aeroport de Tanger, to make a phone call to his friend M. le Directeur du port de Tanger, telling him that at such day and time, such and such vehicle, driven by M. L'Ingegneur Conseil de le Nouveau Aeroport d'Agadir would have boarded the ferry to Algeciras: very simple no?? I heartily thanked M. El Zakri, promising to visit him if I were to return to Agadir in the future. The Director was the prototype of this kind of Moroccan who ''makes'' his country work. Very competent, a lot of self-sacrifice, no arrogance, always available to listen to the employees. A truly excellent person!

That very same day, I took the Range Rover for a quick check - oil, water etc - and than upon returning home I began to fill the SUV with all the items accumulated over 2 years of stay. That's, without forgetting the turtle that I had found one day lost in the area of the worksite. I left Agadir at dawn on a splendid day, I chose to take the N8 state road to Marrakesh, a truly spectacular road, given that it crosses the Anti Atlas chain from South East to North West. The route is dotted with small Berber villages, descendants of those Berbers with whom the French occupiers had to come to terms, given their skill and tenacity in the art of war and guerrilla warfare. After a brief stop in the ''Ochre City of Marrakech'' I continued to Casablanca (at the time there was no motorway, but a simple state road). Than, with only stops just to rest a bit, I drove to Tangier. A full night at the old Les Almohad made up for the hours I spent driving. The next morning, as agreed with M. El Zakri, I went to Tangier airport, just outside the city. I asked for M. le Directeur, who received me almost immediately. I was offered some excellent green tea, and than le Directeur, a portly man in his 60s called M. le Directeur du Port de Tanger. Who said that there was no problem, he would immediately inform M. le Directeur de la Douane that early the same day an Italian with a Range Rover would board the ferry to Algeciras and above all ''that there was no need to carry out any type of inspection of the documents and the vehicle''. Heartened, I expressed my heartfelt thanks to M. le Directeur de l'Aeroport de Tanger, and set off for the port of Tangier. Upon boarding the ferry everything went as expected, with the border police and customs officers sneering and making a last futile attempt to get something out of the matter.

CROSSING THE STRAIT AND JOURNEY TO ITALY. I crossed the Strait of Gibraltar for the umpteenth time, the same 13 km wide strait that rapresent for too many an obstacle to a better life. Unfortunately, for too many others, after realizing the dream of arriving in Europe, is only the beginning of new and different nightmares. In winter there were few passengers on ferries, almost all truck drivers who travel between Spain and Morocco and vice versa. Fish, fruit and vegetables are the most exported goods from South to North. Once in Algerciras the disembarkation operations took little time, compared to the hours of waiting during the summer, when tourists and Moroccans returning home to spent summer holidays in their native country. I then took the state road towards the North, I intended to stay as much as possible on the coast because I had a problem with the car's heating system: after 2 years in Morocco, it simply wasn't working, and the temperatures at the beginning of January in Europe were certainly not those of Agadir.

The journey continued without any problems, the turtle was walking around on the floor in front of the passenger seat, every now and then I passed it half a tomato, which it was greedy for. Soon, having passed Almeria and Cartagena, I arrived in Orihuela Costa, the only place in Europe where bananas are grown. I proceeded slowly, admiring the plantations on the side of the highway. So when the traffic light at the intersection turned red, and I pressed the brake pedal, it was a big surprise for me to notice the car didn't slow down! I coundn't do anything but ran through the red light and luckily, given the time - it was just after 6.00 in the morning, no vehicle came from the other side!! I stopped at the first lay-by to try to understand why the brake hadn't worked, and with my great amazement I saw the turtle exactly under the brake pedal!! Distracted by the sight of the banana plants, I hadn't noticed that the turtle had managed to climb onto the Range Rover's gearbox tunnel, was also made easier by the carpet covering on which turtle's nails had an easy grip, and it had slipped right there, where it should never have gone!! So I was forced to put the turtle on the floor of the rear seats, I didn't want to risk an accident at the next intersection. The rest of the journey was quite boring, although the cold got more pungent as I progressin to North. During the crossing of Southern France and along the Ligurian Riviera everything was fine, but the Genoa – Alessandria stretch was covered in snow, and I was forced to cover my legs with a blanket.

I arrived home quite ''frozen'' but very happy.

Orihuela plantation - Spain

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