#which is on page 19 which didn’t scan and I had to take a photo of | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pi-cat000 · 5 years

Text

MSA time travel idea (part 32)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25 Lewis POV 3, Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31

Part 33: here

VIVI POV

"Which of you alerted hospital staff to Lance Kingman’s condition?”

The officer steps into the room and Vivi spots a second man behind him. Lewis stands to greet them, and Vivi lets him take the lead. Conversation washes over her, buzzing like an annoying fly in the background. With all the new information being dropped into her lap, she is finding it difficult to think clearly.

‘Just because it’s weird, doesn’t mean we should discount it.’ How many times had she said that? A lot apparently, if Lewis is quoting it. But how does one fit all the weird things together into something coherent?

She loosely remembers Lewis and Arthur talking about an almost violent encounter with some leather-wearing wacko, but that had occurred at least a week before Arthur’s odd behaviour began. If the man was threatening Arthur for whatever reason, surely she would have seen some signs earlier instead of a steamily overnight change.

Why even mention ‘demon possession’ if that were the case. It didn't exactly add to the mysterious stranger's credibility in the 'find Arthur' department.

What did any of this even mean?

Vivi's not on Lewis's level when it came to reading and sympathising with people, but she is good at connecting actions to motivation. Nothing happened in a vacuum, there was always a cause and effect. There had to be some critical fact missing because, while some things fit together, others were completely random. Vivi exhales loudly, shifting her focus back onto Lewis. All she is doing is going over the same data points and hitting the same inconstancies. Futile.

“I’m a friend of his nephew, Arthur Kingsman. We heard Lance was in the hospital and came to offer support. It took us several hours to get here though,” Lewis is speaking, sounding confident and self-assured. He is talking in his ‘I'm dealing with people I don’t want to deal with, but I’m still going to be friendly’ voice. Unlike her and Arthur, Lewis is usually happy to interact with strangers, so she doesn’t hear this voice often.

“…We drove from Oak Ridge.”

Vivi, from her seated position, examines the two policemen more thoroughly. They don’t seem overly worried about her and Lewis, asking questions in a professional, concise manner. She has missed the introductions, so she doesn’t know either of their names.

“That’s pretty far off. Do you live there?”

“No. We were on a road trip. Arthur, he was with us, but he came back a few hours ahead.”

“Hmm. Have you see Arthur since then?”

“No,” A note of exhaustion is now creeping into Lewis’s tone like he has answered this question already.

“And you came straight to the hospital after arriving in Milton.”

“Yes."

There is a nod like the officer has just confirmed something important and Vivi realises that, if Lance had been attacked again -the officers hadn’t exactly confirmed anything yet- then Arthur is looking mighty suspicious. Arthur would never hurt his Uncle. But these guys didn’t know that. Statistically, these sort of things are usually a result of inter-family conflict.

“I met a weird guy in the car park who was looking for Arthur,” She pipes up, going with her ‘I’m just a dumb kid, what do I know’ voice, “Does that help?”

She has no problem throwing the mysterious stranger under the bus. Especially if the running theory, that the man is threatening Arthur, is true.

“We are not discounting anything. Which car park was this Miss Yukino?”

“It’s Vivi.” Lewis must have introduced her already. “It was the car park near the open mall. He had dark hair, a beard, wore a leather vest and had a bunch of bandages over his side like he’d been in a fight.”

The second man writes something down in his phone, frowning. There. Hopefully, that would throw their attention off Arthur and, to a lesser extent, her and Lewis. On top of everything, Vivi doesn’t want Arthur becoming a suspect in an attack on his own Uncle.

“Oh right!” She says brightly, standing, “Here.” She hands over the business card with the number. She has two of them, so it wasn’t like she was going to miss it.

“He gave me this. Maybe it'll help.”

Perplexed, the officer takes the card.

“So is Uncle Lance okay? What exactly happened? The hospital hasn’t told us much.”

“We’re really worried,” Lewis tacks on, from where he’s been watching Vivi’s attempts to subtly throw attention off Arthur.

At this, the second officer, the one who had been quiet up until now, steps forward. When he speaks his voice is warmer, accented in a way she can’t place, and not quite so coolly professional.

“Unfortunately, with the ongoing investigation, the hospital isn’t releasing any information on Lance Kingsman. We’ll look into this strange man …so there’s no need to worry.”

“But…”

“It’s late, and Hospital visiting hours are ending. You said you drove from Oaks Ridge? That’s a long drive, so the two of you should head home and get some rest." Lewis makes to interject, but the officer puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, cutting him off.

"Nothing is going to happen between now and tomorrow. You are better off waiting in a more comfortable environment and coming back. Besides, you’re friend, Arthur, if he hasn’t been through here already, is more likely to turn up somewhere familiar. If you see him at all, tell him to get in contact. He’s not in trouble or anything, but we’d like to ask some questions.”

Vivi crosses her arms and has to clamp her jaw shut to prevent herself from saying something rude. That would just get them into trouble. She lets Lewis handle the rest of the interaction, watching, disgruntled, as Lewis relays their addresses and phone numbers in case they are needed for follow-up questions.

“Tempo? I have a sister up there. A cute town that one,” The second officer comments, apparently surprised.

“It’s cosy…” Lewis shrugs loosely, prompting, “How long has she been in Tempo for?”

Yeah. If by ‘cosy’ Lewis meant suffocating, then sure.

“…Last five years. Here,” A photo is pulled from the man’s wallet. “See. That’s my Niece. Cute an’t’ she”

Lewis nods along, scanning the photo, commenting thoughtfully, “Her name wouldn’t be Sarah Arias? I think I’ve seen them in the diner a few times…It’s a small town.”

“Haha. That wouldn��t happen to be the big purple building? She loves purple, so it’s the only one they go to.”

“Yeah, my parents own it.”

“That place has some crazy spicy food. Hey, Anderson… Maybe you should go there sometime.”

Vivi notes that ‘Anderson,’ has pretty much checked out of the conversation, focused on writing notes.

“Call me Michael by the way. Here, hold on. This is the department number and here is my extension,” He rips out a page, writing as he goes, “I work for Downtown Milton. Ask for me if you have any trouble, or your friend shows up. We’ll get this sorted, no problems. Anderson here is from the big city so he’s dealt with all sorts and cases.”

After more empty reassurances, promising that Lance was ‘probably going to be okay’ and ‘this hospital is one of the best in the state,’ they are escorted by Michael to the hospital’s main door. Most of the people in the foyer are gone, leaving it deserted. Two other officers are standing off to the side, attempting to be discrete. So that excluded sneaking back in and interrogating hospital staff. Not that she thought it would do them much good.

Her and Lewis step back through the hospital’s entrance. Michael disappears, returning to his partner. It is telling when Lewis immediately slumps, sighing loudly.

“Here,” Lewis hands her the number, rubbing his face. She doesn’t know what to do with it, but she slips it into her purse anyway. They share a long tired look. Exhaustion is mirrored across both of their faces. Now what?

She is tired. Lewis is tired. They've been up since six, and it has been nonstop emotional curveballs since. That, coupled with eight hours of continuous driving, is probably contributing to the sudden wave of helpless defeat weighing on her chest. Now there is no obvious goal to work towards, she is at a loss.

The sky is quickly darkening, and it’s a hundred times windier than when she entered the hospital. Vivi’s hair blows about every which way, getting into her eyes and mouth. Lewis doesn't fare much better. Whereas usually, this would be a prime opportunity for some light teasing, right now, defeat is killing any amusement to be had. All she has is questions. No answers. No idea where Arthur is or whether Uncle Lance will be okay. All this effort and nothing to show for it.

"That doesn't look good," Lewis interrupts their moment of silent commiseration, nodding to the clouds which are blocking out the remaining sun, hastening nightfall.

"I dunno...always nice to have some mood lighting," She grouches. Shitty weather to reflect their shitty situation. They trudge back to the truck, huddling together, Vivi using Lewis's lager form as a windbreak.

"I can drop you at your place on the way to mine? If you want. I’ll pick you up in the morning. We can be back at the hospital first thing," Lewis offers, voice almost too quiet to hear over the wind.

"No.” She says it bluntly, too tied to beat around the social bush, “I’m staying with you."

Her and Lewis are sticking together until all this, whatever it was, is over. Despite her mental and physical fatigue, she knows there isn’t going to be a lot of sleeping going on. Not with so much stuff crowding her mind. Better to use that time planning and theorising with Lewis. Maybe, she can also think up some new goal to pursue.

"Okay," Lewis nods, giving the smallest of smiles and Vivi punches him affectionately on the shoulder. He has no right looking that relieved.

The truck is easily spotted in the quickly emptying parking lot. Mystery is still in the cab, paws on the window, attention glued to them as they approach. He doesn't do his usual happy-dog-reunion-routine when Vivi lets him out, instead sniffing at her legs in an almost urgent manner.

"I need to call mama and let her know we're coming home. Would you drive?" Lewis draws her attention away from Mystery. She motions with an ‘up’ gesture and the dog leaps into her arms in a practised action. She runs a hand through his fur in a calming motion.

"Yeah. I'm fine with that. Is there going to be room for me to…”

“You know there’s always space for you at my place,” Lewis anticipates her question, “Besides, it has barely been 24 hours since we left, so the mattress you slept on is probably still set up.”

The mention of time sours both their expressions. Hard to think that all this drama has occurred within 24 hours.

Vivi makes her way around to the driver’s seat, preparing for another bumpy ride as she re-familiarises herself with the truck. Mystery squashes himself between them and spends a long moment staring intently at her profile. It's kind of weird. When Lewis takes out his phone, she is distracted, dividing her attention between eavesdropping on his call and the road. It becomes significantly harder when Lewis transitions to Spanish because her understanding of it is rudimentary at best. Still, she can make a few assumptions based on his tone, like how he answers with an almost fake-sounding happy voice then transitions to somewhat exasperated, meaning he is probably talking to one of his sisters. A shift to a more tired and exhausted sound means he’s talking to his mom.

Vivi is so focused on Lewis that she almost rams straight into a motorbike when it pulls unexpectantly out in front of her.

“Shit,” She swears and swerves to avoid the suicidal idiot. Mystery is knocked over and almost off the seat entirely.

Quickly, Vivi winds down the window, shouting at the disappearing figure, “HEY! WHY DON’T YOU LEAN TO DRIVE!” The motorbike’s engine revs as if in response. Behind her, a car sounds its horn.

“HEY…” Before she can start yelling at the car as well, Lewis’s calmer voice intrudes.

“No. I’m okay. It’s Vivi. She’s road raging.”

She turns to glare, “I am not road raging. That looney cut out right in front of me. He’s lucky he isn’t dead.”

Lewis raises a brow and returns to talking in Spanish. She huffs, letting her irritation simmer down. The motorcycle is gone now, but she glares after it, rewinding the window to keep out the dust and wind.

They arrive at Pepper Paradiso just after sunset to her relief. She is definitely not experienced enough to drive a foreign vehicle at night. Not when the roads around Tempo are poorly lit, and the thick clouds overhead are completely blocking out both the moon and stars, making the night darker than average. Occasionally, Vivi sees a flash of lightning off in the distance.

“I told mama about Arthur being missing and that Lance is in hospital,” Lewis says as they pull in. He is rubbing his face in a tired motion she mirrors a second later.

“Yeah? What did she say.” Lewis’s mom was, in a word, stoic. She is a person Vivi tries very hard to impress even with repeated reassurances that it was unneeded.

“Not much. Only that everything is worse when you’re tired, and there will be food waiting.”

“Oh…” Vivi doesn’t really know what to say. Usually, the thought of a Pepper prepared dinner would be enough to perk her up. She’s not even hungry.

Pepper Paradiso, usually open later, appears to have closed early today. However, the interior lights are still on, spilling through wide glass windows, illuminating the empty parking bays next to the diner in an island of light. With the only other light sources being the distant houses of Tempo and one solitary street lamp several yards down the main road, it is exceptionally welcoming. Vivi exhales long and hard, bringing the truck to a stop.

As she and Lewis clamber out, dragging luggage with them, the apparent lack of wind catches her attention. Unlike Milton, the air here is thick and stagnant. The prelude to a storm. Perfect. On the horizon, lightning flashes. Grumpily, Vivi pulls out her phone. She should really call her dad. He’d want to know she was back in town. What she really wants is to call her mom. But her mom is in Washington for a conference, meaning it was late, so the time difference wouldn’t work out too well. Her gran didn’t have a phone, so that was out.

“Hey, Lew. I’m going to call my dad. I’ll be in in a second.”

Lewis, now carrying both his and Arthur’s bags, nods, reaching out to take her's as well. Through the window, she sees the silhouette of Lewis’s mom moving to greet him. The main sliding doors are locked like they always are after hours, so she is walking around to come out the side ‘employee’ entrance. The entrance which also led back into the main living area.

As her phone rings, she moves out of view and around to the opposite side of the truck, allowing her to stare out into the inky black desert. Far in the distance, a flash of lightning illuminates the empty landscape. This should be private enough.

“Vivi. I thought I told you to call once you stopped. It’s been two days!”

She rolls her eyes, “Nice to hear from you too.”

“I was worried. This is the first time you’ve been away for such a long period. A text message would have sufficed.”

“I message mom. Also, I’m an adult, I can figure this stuff out myself.” Only, she couldn’t. Not really. But, it wasn’t like ‘dealing with a best friend running off for unexplained reasons’ is a typical adult skill. She is getting off track.

“Well, I’m back in Tempo so you can stop panicking.”

“You’re back in…”

“I’m staying at Lewis’s tonight,” She waves away any incoming questions, “I just wanted to ask you something real quick is all.”

A pause.

“So like, I know that you hate my hobby and all, but is there a particular reason behind that. Like, is there anything I should watch out for…maybe a potentially demon-possessed friend.”

There is dead silence on the other end of the line. Mystery shifts from paw to paw near her feet.

“I think I have expressed my views on this already. What are you…”

“Because,” Vivi quickly continues, emphasising the word, before he can start lecturing, “I met this guy today who said he was hunting a demon. I know, sounds crazy. But he seemed to really believe it, and I have this odd feeling...” It had been bugging her. Also, for the first time ever, she wants to hear dad’s no-nonsense, self-assured ‘all that stuff isn’t real’ spiel.

“I just wanted to check that there isn’t anything you’re not telling…”

THUNK.

The area goes dark.

All the lights in the diner cut off at once. Vivi glances about in alarm, squinting as her eyes try and adjust to the sudden darkness. What the heck? She puts a hand out, touching the side of the truck, following it around to face the diner again. In the black, she can make out the building’s outline and not much else.

“Vivi? Are you there? What happened?”

“Ah…a power outage, I think?”

At her feet, Mystery lets out a deep growl, which sounds impossibly loud in the still air. It vibrates, causing her teeth to jitter. The dog steps forward, staring intently towards the corner of the building. For a second the area is illuminated by a flash of lightning, and she sees…she sees Arthur? Darkness returns, falling like a curtain to obscure her view.

“Sorry dad. Gotta go…”

“NO! Vivi, wait!”

She hangs up. Mystery growls again, and she peers into the night. It’s no use. Quickly, she flips through her phone settings for the flashlight, holding it up. The dim light it offers little against the gloom, giving her barely a meter of vision.

She is almost sure she’d seen Arthur.

Part 33: Here

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #fanfiction #fanfic #Lewis pepper #Vivi Yukino #coarse language #Oh look another scene in a car park.#had an a4 page of dotpoints to get through in this part and I did it #Wow 3000+ words it’s been a while since I did something this long #If you see more mistakes than usual that’ll be why #it's climax time!!

59 notes · View notes

entwinedmoon · 4 years

Text

John Torrington: Made in Manchester

(Intro post here)

(FYI, I already wrote about a lot of the info in this post previously over here, but I want all my Torrington research grouped together in this series, so apologies for repeating myself. Anyway...)

When researching someone from history it’s a good idea to start at the beginning. When and where was John Torrington born? Who were his parents? What sort of family did he have?

But in order to find all that out, we need to work backwards. The John Torrington who signed up for the Franklin Expedition gave some important information about his life in the Muster and Allotments books. Also, and this might seem a bit morbid (of course, I’m studying a frozen corpse as a hobby, so what isn’t morbid about all this), we need to take into consideration the information on his tombstone. In tracking down his birth records, we have to match those records to what we know about him from his time with the expedition.

So what do we know about him? What things should we be looking for when tracking down his birth info?

There are three main pieces of information that we need to match with the Franklin Torrington to be sure that we’ve found the right guy:

He was born in Manchester

He was nineteen when he signed up in May of 1845 and twenty when he died on January 1, 1846, so he was most likely born during the latter half of 1825

His mother was named Mary.

It’s important to have as many pieces of additional information besides a name to match up the right person when combing through archives. There’s almost never just one person of a certain name born around the same time. Some names in particular are very common, and it can be hard to narrow down who’s who. For instance, John is an incredibly common name. In fact, it was the most common name on the Franklin Expedition, with 23 out of the original 134 crewmembers being named John. That is 17% of the crew, or more than one-sixth. If I were looking for someone named John Smith, I would probably have given up once the first page of results on Ancestry.com showed me millions of hits for that same name.

Luckily, Torrington is not that common of a last name. Searching on Ancestry gives me baptism registries for two likely candidates:

I’ll call this one JT1:

And this is JT2:

Looking at these two fine fellows we can see each one has some points in their favor, but each one also has some against. Let’s start with JT1.

JT1 was baptized in Norfolk on January 11, 1824. He lived in Walsoken, which is in the county of Norfolk. His parents were William (a laborer) and Mary. Now right off the bat we can see that JT1 gets a point in his favor by having a mother named Mary, but also two points against—he was not born in Manchester and he was baptized in early 1824, which means he most likely was born late 1823. That would make him about two years too old to be the Torrington on the Franklin Expedition.

Now, is it possible that the information in the Muster book is wrong? Yeah, sure, of course it’s possible. People didn’t have photo IDs and birth certificates they had to bring in to sign up for things back then. It’s possible that when they asked where Torrington was born, he said Manchester because he was living there at the time he joined up (I don’t know if he was living there or not, I’m just spitballing here). He could have gotten confused, or perhaps he just blatantly lied. The same is true of his age. He could have given the wrong age by accident, or on purpose. I’ve seen the wrong ages in records while hunting down Torrington’s relatives, and there are even known examples of the ages being wrong on records for the Franklin Expedition.

According to Ralph Lloyd-Jones, Thomas Evans, one of the ship’s Boys on Terror, was technically 17 when he signed up, but he was put down as 18 to meet the minimum qualifications for polar service. And then there’s William Braine, one of Torrington’s grave-mates on Beechey Island. He was born March 1814, which would have made him 32 when he passed away in April of 1846. His tombstone accurately records his age as such, but the plaque on his coffin says he was 33. It’s weird that the tombstone says one thing and the coffin plaque another, but clearly mixing up ages and dates can happen, so maybe JT1 put down the wrong age and place of birth and he’s the right guy. But that’s depending on a lot of ifs and buts to make it work.

Let’s take a look at the other option.

JT2 was baptized December 10, 1826 in Manchester. His full name was John Shaw Torrington and his parents were William (a coachman) and Sarah. Now, this Torrington was born in the right place, but he’s got the wrong mom and, yet again, the wrong birth year. Interestingly, his father has the same name as JT1’s, but he has a different profession. Is this the same William?

Looking further into it, William Torrington married Sarah Shaw on May 18, 1823. He was listed as a coachman on his marriage certificate, too, so this has to be a completely different William Torrington from JT1’s father (also, an intriguing fact to note, William signed his name with an X while Sarah was able to give her full signature). But how could JT2 possibly be the right Torrington when his mother isn’t named Mary? Wouldn’t that make JT1 a better fit?

Not exactly.

While yes, JT2’s birth mother was Sarah, she sadly passed away in 1833. Three years later, in 1836, William remarried (weirdly enough, he was able to sign his name now). Who was his second wife? A widow by the name of Mary Hoyle.

So JT2 did have a mother named Mary by the time he entered the Navy to join the expedition, and he was born in Manchester, which gives him two points in his favor. I've noticed when researching Torrington that it seems John Shaw has been unofficially recognized as the Torrington who sailed with Franklin. Even on Torrington's Wikipedia page, his name is listed as John Shaw, even though the reference listed for his name doesn't actually say that. After comparing his record to the only other known John Torrington who would be around the right age, I agree that he's the one.

But what about his birthdate? Wouldn’t being born in 1826 make him too young to be our guy?

Well, all the arguments I mentioned before about how dates and ages could be wrong still stand in this situation, so it’s possible he just aged himself up a bit, on purpose or not. But we also need to keep in mind that this is his baptism registry and not his birth certificate, so it could be days, weeks, or even months later than his actual birth. In fact, I’ve heard that some families would wait years before baptizing a child. Sometimes, they would wait until they had another kid or two in tow before hauling them all in to get a holy dunking. Did something like that happen here?

Maybe—because he wasn’t the only Shaw Torrington baptized on this day.

On a different page of the registry we find a record for one Esther Shaw Torrington. She was baptized the same day—December 10, 1826—and her parents were William and Sarah. William was a coachman, and while this time their surname was listed as Shaw Torrington rather than just Torrington, this is clearly the same family. That means John had a sister, but was she a twin? Or were they different ages, and one of them was hauled in when the other was born for a two-for-one baptism deal?

While I can’t find Esther’s precise birthday, her death record shows that she had to have been born after September 19, 1826 (she died September 19, 1878, age 51—she should have turned 52 that year if she was born in 1826, which means her birthday is later in the year). That means Esther was probably born sometime within a couple months before her baptism. If John were her twin, then he would have been 18 when he joined the Franklin Expedition and 19 when he died. While the age he gave to the Navy could be wrong—and subsequently, would be wrong on his tombstone—I’m inclined to think he was born a year before his sister and that the ages given in the Muster book and on his tombstone are correct.

Of course, that means we’re not anywhere close to narrowing down his exact birthdate. He was listed as 19 on May 12, when he signed up for the Franklin Expedition. For all we know, he turned 20 just days later, (although I like to think if he were that close to his birthday, they may have rounded his age up or indicated it somewhere). So the earliest his birthday could be is mid to late May, but what’s the latest date it could be? Technically, there could be as little as 10 months between John’s and Esther’s birth, which means that John could have been born in January 1826 (maybe February, if Esther were born in late November, but that’s kind of pushing it). This gives us a wide berth for his actual birthday, making it difficult to pin down.

Personally, I like to think he was born in autumn 1825, but that’s just speculation and wishful thinking (October would be the perfect month for the man whose frozen face would launch a thousand childhood nightmares of mine).

But if he were born in 1825, why wasn’t he baptized until December 1826? Were his parents saving up all their kids to get them baptized all at once? There was apparently such a thing as a baptism party, although those seem to occur when there are more than two children. Maybe Sarah and William liked the idea of baptizing all their children together. Maybe Sarah became pregnant with Esther only a couple months after having John, and they decided to wait when they realized they would need to do another baptism in several months’ time. Maybe they were just too busy when John was born to take the time to bring him to Manchester Cathedral.

Or maybe it was because William was being indicted.

The Lancashire Archives has a Recognizance of Indictment for one William Torrington of Manchester, coach driver, from June 15, 1825. I ordered a scan from the archives and transcribed it the best I could (adding in some punctuation for clarity). [UPDATE: There was a phrase I couldn't transcribe at first ("the said," spelled with a long s), but I've figured it out since and have updated the post.]:

“Lancashire to wit.

Be it remembered, That on the 15th day of June in the sixth Year of our Sovereign Lord George the Fourth [1825] of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, King, Defender of the Faith, etc. William Torrington of Manchester Coach Driver[,] George Calvert same place Farrier and Esther Shane same place Widow [off to the side is written Mr. Norris/Morris, perhaps the name of the Judge] severally personally came before me one of the Justices of our said Lord the King, assigned to keep the Peace within the said County, and acknowledged severally to owe to our said Lord the King the said William Torrington the price of Forty pounds[,] George Calvert and Esther Shane twenty pounds each of good and lawful Money of Great Britain, to be made and levied of their Goods and Chattels, Lands and Tenements, respectively for the Use of our said Lord the King, his Heirs and Successors, if the said William Torrington shall make default in the Condition hereunder-written.

The Condition of this Recognizance is such, that if the above bounden William Torrington personally appear at the next General Quarter Sessions of the Peace, to be holden by adjournment at the Parish of Manchester, in and for the said County of Lancaster, and then and there to answer such Bill or Bills of Indictment as shall be preferred against him [crossed out from the typed form “for an assault upon”] and in the mean Time do keep the Peace and be of good Behaviour to our said Lord the King, and all his liege Subjects, [crossed out “especially towards the said”] then the Recognizance to be void, or else remain in full force.

Acknowledged before me William Torrington To answer [crossed out “for an Assault, etc.]”

Basically, in mid-June of 1825, William Torrington was arrested but released from jail, to return to court at a later date under penalty of a fine. A couple people he knew, George Calvert and Esther Shane, backed him up, promising to cover his expenses if he failed to reappear in court.

I have not been able to find information on why he was indicted—that information would most likely be in the Indictment Roll, which I would have to go through at the Archive itself, something made difficult with an ocean between me and Lancashire. It’s also possible that there is no further information available about William’s indictment, or at least none that has survived. I skimmed through the Lancashire order book for 1825 but didn’t find any mention of William or his indictment (with a closer reading, maybe I’ll stumble upon something). However, it’s possible that the case never went to trial, and that’s why it does not appear in the order book. And considering that he had a daughter the next year, whatever outcome happened clearly didn’t keep him out of commission for long

Whether or not his case went to trial, facing legal peril has a tendency to push everything else in life to the wayside, even the birth of a first child. Any fees that he may have incurred from the indictment and any related issues may have caused a temporary financial burden on William and Sarah, making it difficult for them to have John baptized. This is of course just one of many possible explanations for why John Shaw Torrington was baptized in 1826 and not in 1825, the year it’s assumed he was actually born, but we’ll probably never know the real reason.

And now, since I have written over 2400 words analyzing just Torrington’s baptism registry, I think I’ll bring this post to a close. Next up: what little we can piece together of his life growing up, before he joined the Franklin Expedition.

<<Back | Next >>

Torrington Series Masterlist

#john torrington #franklin expedition #long post

15 notes · View notes

acena7 · 4 years

Text

The Fall of Clayton Little

On an ordinary fall evening, when the air is cold, and the little daylight that remaines dwindles swiftly behind gatherings of dark clouds. When strong gusts of cold November wind whip through the air rustling brown leaves and carrying trash through the streets. Heavy rains were showering the quiet court-way of an apartment building on 7602 Phillips Place.

Water was everywhere; it showered the roads, collected along the sidewalks, and pooled between the sloped street curbs.

Clay Little turned the steering wheel of his small Ford Fusion onto Phillips place, toward the old building where he rented a small three-bedroom apartment. It was an ominous structure looming over a dim corner where the street light flickered sporadically.

Clay leaned forward, straining to see through the drenched windshield while the car’s wiper arms whisked away rain and debris. He eased on the brakes, let the car roll slowly into an empty space, and parked. Then he pulled the door lever, shouldered it open, and let it slam behind him.

After jogging through the open court-way without a hat or an umbrella, Clay passed through the front gate and pushed the vestibule door open. He was feeling energized and easily climbed four flights of stairs to the landing where he unlocked his three-bedroom apartment.

The apartment’s large interior was murky, but a bright light in the hall cut sharply into the darkness revealing a large section of hardwood flooring, a long glass end table, and a dingy brown leather sofa.

There was thick silence in the room and an odor like rancid fish clung to the air. I need to empty the trash, he thought, closing the front door and flipping the light switch on. The apartment had an odd configuration that unfolded beneath a pale glow probing into a narrow hall, a large kitchen, and the thresholds of three bedrooms.

Clay draped his soaked jacket over the sofa arm and slid his door key across the end table disturbing two flies that instantly meandered toward the ceiling. He went into the kitchen, flipped the light switch on and began checking the table, stove, countertops, then he checked the table again.

He was looking for his wallet, which he discovered was missing after driving part of the way to a CitiBank ATM Machine.

When he was satisfied the wallet was not in the kitchen, he hurried through another short hall and impatiently clicked the master bedroom light on.

There was a trickle of sweat on his brow and a frustrated glare on his face as he checked familiar areas of the room where he normally dropped his wallet or door keys. He rearranged the cluttered dresser tops moving perfume bottles, lifting small boxes, and peeking behind canisters filled with jewelry.

He pulled the heavy comforter off of the bed and tossed the pillows, then he crouched to his knees and put his head beneath the bed.

Where did I go today? Clay thought, beginning to retrace his steps.

His gaze panned the room and followed another fly that landed on a large family photo. The photo had been taken on Father’s Day the previous summer. His wife Tonya and 5-year-old daughter Jazmine sat with him in a large Love seat.

Jazmine smiled lavishly revealing her baby teeth, three of which were missing, but Tonya looked distracted, and her eyes did not focus at the camera angle.

Then it occurred to Clay, he had spoken with Tonya on the phone earlier that day. She called from her mother's home where she had left Jasmine to spend the weekend. Wanting to withdraw cash from an ATM, and give her Mother extra money to entertain Jasmine, Tonya asked Clay to transfer two hundred dollars into their joint checking account.

But Clay didn’t know the account access numbers. He remembered looking through her dresser drawers where she usually kept her mail and their banking account statements, he also remembered having his wallet in his hand at the time.

Then in a burst of energy, Clay yanked the top dresser drawer open and immediately located the wallet resting between her folded rows of panties. Realizing he had not put the account statements back into her drawer, he left the wallet in the drawer and returned to the kitchen.

The statements were still on the table under a crowd of gnats. Clay picked up the bank statements, they were sticky, and he rubbed his fingers together. Then he saw a torn manila envelope on the floor. It had been mailed on the 14th of September.

LabA2 Records Dept.

VeriGene Inc.

741 Petrol Rd

Des Moines Iowa, 50301

T. Little

5513 Campbell Street

Chicago Il, 60657

He shoo’d another fly and opened the envelope; it was moist and empty. His eyes fluttered and he scanned the floor. Then he saw two pages of the letter beneath the table matching the color of the envelope. He squatted to collect them, but there was another page crumpled on the floor in front of the kitchen sink. He smoothed it out over the table top and put the pages in numbered order.

Paternity Test Certificate

By order of Tonya Little we were requested to perform a paternity test. The following individuals were examined:

Sample Number

Role

Name

Date of Birth

HID1847A0-0124

Alleged Father

Damen Redding

08/05/1969

HID1847A0-0125

Child

Jazmine Little

10/01/1999

Regarding the sampling of the participants please refer to the protocols in copy.

We received the originals of the identity confirmations and the consent statements.

Method:

DNA isolation was carried out separately for all samples. Genetic characteristics were determined by the following PCR-single-locus-technology analysis.

With the AlphaTrak 17 (HNWL 500) twenty one (21) independent PCR-systems were analysed:

In parallel, positive and negative controls were performed which gave the expected and correct results.

The results of the analysis are shown in the following table:

Results:

DNA-criteria

Damon Redding HID1847A0-0124

DNA-criteria

Jasmine Little HID1847A0-0125

AM X, Y X, Y

D3S1358 14, 14 14, 18

D1S1656 16.3, 17.3 16.3, 17.3

D6S1043 11, 17 17, 17

D13S317 9, 12 9, 9

Penta E 10, 16 10, 16

D16S539 12, 12 12, 13

D18S51 12, 13 13, 14

D2S1338 23, 23 23, 24

CSF1PO 10, 11 9, 10

Penta D 9, 10 8, 9

TH01 6, 6 6, 7

vWA 15, 17 15, 18

D21S11 29, 30 29, 30

D7S820 8, 11 9, 11

D5S818 11, 13 11, 12

TPOX 9, 11 9, 11

D8S1179 13, 14 13, 14

D12S391 18, 18 18, 19

D19S433 13, 14 14, 15

FGA 18, 25 18, 19

In all analyzed PCR systems, Damen Redding does show the genetic markers which have to be present for the biological father of the child Jasmine Little. The probability of Damen Redding being the biological father of Jasmine Little is > 99.9999 %.

Conclusion:

Based on our analysis, it is practically proven that Mr. Damon Red is…

There was a hard knock on the front door. Clay’s heart beat hard behind his ribs, he ignored the knock, attempted to focus, and continued reading.

Conclusion:

Based on our analysis, it is practically proven that Mr. Damon Redding is the biological father of the

child Jasmine Little.

Another harder Knock startled Clay, he dropped the letter on the table and hustled through the hall to the living room.

“Who is it?”

“Chicago Police” three voices overlapped not harmonically. “We would like to ask you a few questions.”

There was a third flurry of even harder knocks on the door. “Come on sir, open the door”, rang a higher octave female voice.

Clay turned the deadbolt and cracked open the door.

“Can I help you?” he asked with his head protruding the space. Three officers were positioned at forty five degree angles along each post of the doorway.

They appeared heavy and intimidating, uniformed in dark navy blue tactical pants, matching shirts, and bulky kevlar vest. POLICE was printed in bold letters adjacent to an embroidered star. Their radios chirped loudly in the hall while each officer’s right hand loitered around the hip holster.

“Good Evening Sir” the female asked. “I’m Officer Allen, this is Officer Brown, and Corporal Johnson, are you Clayton Little?”

“Yes, Im Clayton”

“We are here responding to several calls regarding your Wife, Tonya Little, is she here?”

“No, she went to her Mother's house”

“Do you mind if we step inside for a moment Mr.Little” Officer Johnson asked. He looked to be the older of the three and smiled gently. “We would like to get some follow up information from you regarding your wife.”

Clay shook his head and moved away from the door.

Johnson, Allen, and Brown moved through the doorway filling the living room area. Clay was uneasy and seemed to be standing in a shrinking space.

Brown batted away two flies and rested his hands behind the shoulder girdles of his kevlar vest.

“What's that smell?” Allen asked, while her eyes panned the room.

“I'm supposed to take out the trash”, Clay responded.

“Yeah you need to get on that tonight.” Allen said, waving her hand across her nose.

Clay’s pupils shifted down and away toward the kitchen

“Mr. Little,” Johnson said, opening a small notebook. “When was the last time you spoke with your wife?”

“This morning, she called and asked me to go to the bank.”

“What about your daughter, have you spoken with her?”

“My daughter?”

Allen looked puzzled and shifted her body weight through her left leg. Brown batted another fly away.

“You do have a daughter don’t you Mr. Little?” Johnson questioned, flipping two pages backwards in his notebook. “I believe her name is Jasmine Little.”

“Oh yeah, Jasmine”, Clay answered and shivered.

Brown glanced at Johnson, Allen repositioned her body along a defensive angle. The moment was awkward and interrupted by a radio dispatch reporting gunshots in the vicinity of 75th and Cottage Grove.

Johnson lowered the volume control on his radio; Brown did the same.

“Mr. Little,” Johnson said. “Your Mother in law, one Cherise Rogers, filed a missing persons report 24 hours ago. According to her, your wife Tonya left her with Jasmine last Saturday. They went to the movies on Sunday and Tonya was supposed to pick up Jasmine Monday. But your Mother-in-law says she hasn’t seen or heard from Tonya since she left her on Saturday...uhh six days ago. She also claims that she hasn't been able to reach you either.”

“Mr. Little” Brown Asked, “You mentioned you spoke with your wife today?”

“Yes she uh, asked me to transfer money into our joint account.”

“Why is that” Allen Asked

“She wanted some money, -for the movies” Clay answered ludicly.

“Ok, so they all went to the movies,” Allen asked, looking confused. “Your Mother in Law, your Wife, and Jasmine?”

“No my wife is coming home, Cherise is suppose to take Jasmine to the movies tomorrow”

“Mr. Little” Brown asked, “is this your coat here on the sofa?”

“Yes”

“Looks wet, did you just get in or..”

“No no no, I was going to the ATM to transfer money into our joint account” Clay recapitulated, shaking his head between his hands. "Tonya dropped Jasmine off with her Grandmother Cherise today, and they’re going to the movies tomorrow. I need to transfer her some money, that's why I went to the ATM.”

Johnson slid the little notebook into his rear pants pocket and glanced at Allen.

“Mr. Little” Allen said softly “Do you mind if we take a look around?”

“No, did I say something wrong?”

“No sir, Mr. Little” Johnson said, nodding to Brown. “Just relax here on the sofa, Officer’s Brown and Allen are going to take a quick look around just so we can make sure everything is clear, then we’ll be out of your hair, Ok.”

Brown and Allen moved quietly through the narrow hall and disappeared into the apartment. Johnson stayed with Clay while he sat idly on the sofa.

Allen clicked on the bathroom lights and pulled a white vinyl shower curtain away from the tub. Three flies wandered away and drifted into the hall.

Brown eased into the master bedroom and peeked into the closet.

Johnson turned the volume up a notch on his radio, listening for more information on the shooting.

Brown moved into the kitchen.

Allen flipped on the light switch in the smaller bedroom.

“Corporal -Corporal Johnson!” Brown yelled.

Allen followed Brown’s voice and ran to the kitchen.

“Control, this is Echo 7, Blue team” Allen shouted. Her voice quivered as she stumbled backwards into the hall. “Control, this is Echo 7, Blue team! Code 130, Code 130, Code 130!”

“Get down, put your hands behind your head, Now!” Johnson yelled at Clay, drawing his weapon. “Brown, get in here!” he yelled.

Brown sprinted back to the living room, wrestled Clay to the floor, and clicked handcuffs around his wrist. Clayton Little lay handcuffed mindlessly on his belly.

Johnson’s pulse quickened and his palms felt moist as he slowly put one foot in front of the other. The hall contracted around him as he passed Allen leaning against the kitchen wall heaving air and holding back vomit.

Tonya’s lifeless body was sprawled across the kitchen table with a cleaver in her forehead. Her blood pooled on the table and spilled to the floor. A cast iron meat tenderizer was upside down on the corner of the table. It had been used to bash her skull into a gelatinous bowl of blood and mush.

1 note · View note

betweenfictionandfact · 4 years

Text

Virtual Museums in the Time of COVID-19

In these awful times, everyone is looking for something to keep themselves busy during self-isolation. The “virtual museum” has been offered as one from of edutainment, a way to enrich the mind and pass time when you become sick of binge-watching shows and movies.

Museums have been working to digitize collections and increase accessibility for a while now, designing them to be educational tools or a way for people to access the museum even if they can’t physically visit. Right now, that means all of us, so let’s become armchair museologists, exploring foreign museums from the comfort of our own homes.

The Book

The Pergamonmuseum in Berlin can be found on many lists of online exhibits to visit, and by happy chance I had only just reread a personal favorite that would fit perfectly with the ancient collections in the museum.

Thick as Thieves by Megan Whalen Turner is an epic journey told from the point of view of the runaway slave Kamet and the soldier Costis sent to save him as they escape through the fictional Mede Empire, culturally very like ancient Babylon. The book is the most recent in the series Queen’s Thief, following a thief who becomes king of the fictional world Attolia, heavily inspired by classical Greece.

Ever since I visited the Pergamonmuseum years ago, I will admit that I think of their displays every time I read this book. But how does the virtual experience compare to the physical?

Attolia and the Mede Empire

Historical Greece and Anatolia

The Museum

Run through Google Arts and Culture, the virtual Pergamonmuseum has a simple design and intuitive interactive layout. You are greeted first with a header image of the famous Ishtar gate and a few happily browsing visitors.

Click here to follow along

Underneath is a small introductory text, much like the type that would stand before the entrance to an exhibit. You can choose to read more of it by clicking a button, or you can continue scrolling down to the “stories” or exhibits, much like when a visitor chooses to stroll past the text panels. Scroll a bit further and you can see all 1,591 digitized objects, either organized by topics or pictured individually. At the very bottom is access to a “museum view,” a 360 scan of a room.

At any point you can, of course, share your experience on the social media platform of your choice.

The Pergamonmuseum actually houses three smaller museums, the Classical collections, the Museum of the Ancient Near East, and the Museum of Islamic Art. I’m going to focus on the first two, as they would cover the cultures in Turner’s books.

The Virtual Tour

“Monumental: Highlights in the Pergamonmuseum” is the first exhibit, an overarching tour of the museum’s scope by focusing on a few of the most impressive parts of their collections – reconstructed monuments. These pieces are large enough to walk past or through in a way that lets the visitor truly experience the scale and aesthetics of these ancient cultures.

But how do these very large displays translate to a digital format?

Pergamon Altar is the highlight of the virtual museum. Most of the exhibits focus on it, using the high-quality photos and videos taken in anticipation of the exhibit closing for renovations. Google used a camera to create a 360 experience of the room, which the first exhibit uses to “walk” the visitor through the room, zooming in on details and providing context through pop up text. If you want to explore it yourself, you can take control of the view much as you would Google Streetview.

This high tech interactive gives a life-size sense of scale, allowing you to feel as if you are looking up at the tall steps and large friezes. The sculptures of gods, goddesses, and monsters are marvels of artistic talent, robust and detailed in a way that reminds me of a pivotal scene from the first book, The Thief, when Eugenides finds a room where his gods sit as still as statues, a held breath away from speaking.

“Moving” into the Museum of the Ancient Near East, the online exhibit brings the visitor to a more vibrantly colored reconstruction – the blue and yellow bricks of the Ishtar gate and processional way. The first “slide” has a video pop up with a video about the history of the gate and the city of Babylon. When I accessed the site, the full screen option wouldn’t work. Technological glitches are an interesting issue to consider in accessing the virtual museum. What if certain sections crash and interfere with the narrative of the exhibit?

Despite the small screen, the video recreated the experience of an audio guide. The narrators create a word picture of the gate while you look at pictures of it. They explain the meanings behind the symbols and emphasized that any visitor Nebuchanezzer’s Babylon would have understood at a glance. The symbolism of gods and goddesses are a reminder of a time when the pantheon of gods lived vividly in people lives as images and statues everywhere, just as in the classical world Turner builds in her series. These books feature gods and goddesses that step out of stories and into the plot to help or hinder her main characters. In Thick As Thieves, she drew from the mythology of the Ancient Near East and the Epic of Gilgamesh to create the heroes Immakuk and Ennikar that interfere throughout the plot.

The video and the close up photos afterwards show the details in the relief carvings of lions, a symbol of Ishtar, which made me realize that the seemingly ridiculous scene in the book when Kamet and Costis hide from soldiers in the den of a lioness might have actually been a hint that this ferocious goddess was another force protecting them.

Having been to this display in the actual museum, the experience is rather awe-inspiring. To walk through this massive gate and along a very long corridor, all lined with ancient tiles and then to find out that this was only a small portion of the entire structure is boggling. Especially impressive is to imagine the time conservators spent piecing together this mammoth puzzle. In the virtual museum, however, the scale of the piece isn’t as emphasized as the detail work. After some digging, I did find a 3D image of the gate on the page for the Berlin Museum Island page.

The Collections

Below the exhibits are thumbnails for all 1,591 objects that can be explored digitally. As a visitor, you can go through collections organizing the objects by cultural source (i.e. Iraq, Iran, Syria) or by theme (water, textiles, and lions, oh my!). My eye was drawn to the clay tablets. In Thick As Thieves, Kamet recites from the tablets of the epic of Immakuk and Ennikar. In ancient Mesopotamia, letters and important documents were written in cuneiform on clay. The ones highlighted at the virtual Pergamonmuseum were inventories of goods and horses or letters from kings, rather than poetry, unfortunately.

Collection of Clay Tablets

You can also go through all of the objects, choosing to organize them by viewer popularity, by time in an easily navigated timeline, or, bizarrely enough, by color. This allows the visitor to engage with the objects in a way quite unlike a usual museum visit. You view the objects in sometimes surprising combinations that cross cultural lines and the usual organizational categories.

I chose to see all chocolate brown objects together, which yielded a combination of detailed textiles and clay imprints from cylindrical signets. They are two very different mediums from different centuries, but you can see some similarities in the symmetry and angles on the textiles and carvings.

The details for the objects are, however, limited. Other than names and accession numbers, some objects didn’t have any other information while others had a paragraph or two. I wonder if the objects were chosen by the practicality that they were the best photographed. So, the important collections for a virtual museum become the ones that are the most visual.

Thoughts

The virtual museum was certainly an entertaining way to pass the time here in quarantine. The overall experience became meditative in the way walking through a museum becomes very quiet and calm, although I found after a while the same reading fatigue as hunching to look at text panels in person.

Trying to view the entirety of a museum through my laptop computer screen, the different cultures and topics encompassed within it began to blur together. Unlike a physical museum, where a visitor moves through discretely different rooms organized geographically or by clearly defined topic at a walking pace that allows the mind to shift gears, the virtual museum has a speed to it. You click through topics and it’s easy to switch between topics or go back to check. You can draw lines between displays that might otherwise be at other ends of the museum building.

These blurring of lines might not be what the website designers intended, as the exhibits are more neatly outlined, but the experience certainly fits with the world of the Queen’s Thief series, which is, after all, not a true historical fiction. Megan Whalen Turner drew from classical Greek, Near East, and other Mediterranean cultures to create her world, but she pulled details from several different centuries to do so. Viewing the virtual museum, where it is easier to hop across timelines, did help me understand the setting for the books better, and gave me an aesthetic language for imagining the Mede Empire.

TOP NEWS & ARTICLES

Google core algorithm update started March 12; early winners & losers here and here, among other info about the update.

Also, Google accidentally de-indexed some pages last week, & they are still working on fixing it.

Etsy phone support finally available to everyone (if you speak English, of course).

Amazon no longer requires Marketplace sellers to keep their prices elsewhere the same or higher as on Amazon.

Worldpay, one of Etsy’s payment providers, sold to FIS for $35 billion. (Etsy also uses Ayden for some of their payment processing.)

TOP ETSY NEWS

Last week, Etsy sent emails to non-US sellers, telling them that their refunds for the overcharging that has been going on since October 2018 will be issued by the end of the day, June 30th (or earlier). It doesn’t mention when they will stop overcharging, though.

Etsy held Investor Day on March . You can view the slides that went along with the presentations, and there is a short summary of the search info discussed here. CEO Josh Silverman then did an interview with CNBC (video only), which is summarized here.

There was an Etsy podcast on search questions (links to recording, and transcription), but it didn’t have any new info.

They’ve also released their spring & summer trends report, with a podcast & transcript, as well as a lengthy pdf file with keyword data (I will be summarizing that separately).

SEO: GOOGLE & OTHER SEARCH ENGINES

Rand Fishkin (founder of Moz) is doing a series of 10-minute Whiteboard Friday presentations on learning SEO basics, with both video & transcripts included in the links. Remember, some of these things do not apply to Etsy shops, but can apply to your website, depending on the coding.

Part 1, SEO strategy; It assumes some knowledge of marketing terms, but the SEO part is definitely intro-level

Part 2, keyword research. Long tail: “20% of all searches that Google receives each day they have never seen before.”

Part 3: satisfy searcher needs.

Part 4: optimizing through keywords & other elements.

And Moz’s Beginners Guide to SEO is finally fully updated. (Some parts are more technical, so stick to the on-page stuff if you are really new to this.)

Chrome now offering the ability to select privacy-focused search engine DuckDuckGo as your browser default. This should increase DDG’s slice of traffic if Google continues this.

Google released its Webspam report for 2018.

Hmm, wonder why I would come across SEO tips for Tumblr this edition? 🤔

CONTENT MARKETING & SOCIAL MEDIA

(includes blogging & emails)

19 call-to-action phrases you should be using on social media (infographic)

10 tips for more clicks on your social media posts

US social media expansion has plateaued, but podcasts’ popularity continues to grow. 23% of US homes have a “smart speaker” (Alexa etc.); 56% have a tablet. Smartphone ownership has also levelled off.

Related - most Americans dislike/do not trust social media.

3 tips for great social media content (infographic), & 4 more tips for writing social media posts.

Email marketing stats that show its impact. If you don’t already have an email list, it is time to start one. After all these years, it still works!

Instagram beta-testing checkout within the app; US brands only for the moment.

Facebook was storing your passwords in plain text & many employees had access. “My Facebook insider said access logs showed some 2,000 engineers or developers made approximately nine million internal queries for data elements that contained plain text user passwords.”

Did you know you can remove your last name from your public Facebook profile? (Plus 12 other Facebook facts & tricks)

Create great pins on Pinterest.

Pinterest files for IPO; admits that Google changes last year hurt it.

Backgrounder on short video sharing site TikTok.

Twitter Analytics has an events page that tips you off to annual events you may want to tweet about/around, under the Events tab in your Analytics.

ONLINE ADVERTISING (SEARCH ENGINES, SOCIAL MEDIA, & OTHERS)

Beginners’ guide to cost per click (CPC) ads - includes Google, Facebook, & Instagram.

Facebook & Instagram ad costs have rocketed since the site-wide outages on March 13.

Facebook’s advice on optimizing your Facebook ads.

Google fined by EU for blocking other ads.

STATS, DATA, OTHER TRACKING

Ecommerce reports in Google Analytics (for websites, not Etsy shops).

5 Instagram analytics tips.

ECOMMERCE NEWS, IDEAS, TRENDS

Microsoft considers competing with Shopify.

eBay states it uses artificial intelligence (AI) pretty much everywhere on its site, as do most big sites.

eBay adds Google Pay as a payment option.

Half of US households will belong to Amazon Prime this year. “Amazon Household, a program that allows different members of a single household, including teens, to have their own log-in for shopping and viewing of Prime content, was specifically cited by eMarketer as a factor driving adoption.”

Shopify is ending its MailChimp integration; interesting article here. “Mailchimp wrote a blog post stating that it asked Shopify to remove the Mailchimp integration from the Shopify marketplace. Mailchimp’s reasoning behind the move was due to the new term requiring partners to send back any data collected “on behalf of the merchant” back to Shopify. According to Joni Deus, director of partnerships at Mailchimp, that data (in Mailchimp’s eyes) doesn’t belong to Shopify.”

This is seen as a battle for data, a lot of which flows through APIs (APIs are how third party tools integrate with websites, like Etsy & label providers such as Shippo & Pirate Ship).

Square improves a bunch of ecommerce tools including social media integrations. They bought Weebly a year ago, & are using that to make changes to Square Online Store and Square for Retail.

BUSINESS & CONSUMER STUDIES, STATS & REPORTS; SOCIOLOGY & PSYCHOLOGY, CUSTOMER SERVICE

Tone is key to good customer service. I like the bit about answering apparently stupid questions - making the customer feel stupid (even if 99% of readers would agree the question was stupid) is usually not a good approach. But it can be hard to weed out negative tone. Other good quotes: “Directing the conversation away from the negative aspects and focusing instead on the proposed solution helps customers accept the situation and reduces the odds that they will be upset.” and “It almost doesn’t matter how good the news is; if it comes after “actually,” I feel like I was somehow wrong about something.”

Figuring out what motivates your customers.

Ecommerce customer service 101.

MISCELLANEOUS (INCLUDING HUMOUR)

Facial recognition software is scraping the photos you post online to improve their software. “Despite IBM’s assurances that Flickr users can opt out of the database, NBC News discovered that it’s almost impossible to get photos removed. … There may, however, be legal recourse in some jurisdictions thanks to the rise of privacy laws acknowledging the unique value of photos of people’s faces. Under Europe’s General Data Protection Regulation, photos are considered “sensitive personal information” if they are used to confirm an individual’s identity. Residents of Europe who don’t want their data included can ask IBM to delete it. If IBM doesn’t comply, they can complain to their country’s data protection authority, which, if the particular photos fall under the definition of “sensitive personal information,” can levy fines against companies that violate the law.

In the U.S., some states have laws that could be relevant. Under the Illinois Biometric Information Privacy Act, for example, it can be a violation to capture, store and share biometric information without a person’s written consent. According to the act, biometric information includes fingerprints, iris scans and face geometry.”

Cookie warnings are getting really complicated in some jurisdictions.

Microsoft killed Clippy again.

American drunk shopping continues to increase.

Posted April 8, 2019.

#seo #search engine optimization #etsynews #analytics #stats #social media #contentmarketing #ecommerce #smallbiz #CindyLouWho2NewsUpdates

2 notes · View notes

sushilabassyear1fmp · 3 years

Text

Final and additional experiments

Hand embroidery (early sample)

This sample took a long time to do, perhaps 5 hours causally on and off which is already far too long to be worth doing for a final piece. For this experiment I wanted to layer the printed text with some embroidery to make the piece crowded and uncomfortable which I believe it successfully did do. Aart from time being an issue moving forward another issue is it is a bit too neat, while I wanted to hand sew so that It would be personal I and to be a bit freer with the text, when I hand sew it feels like it had to be perfect when I would want my text to be rougher to show a quickly written note, not a neat perfect note. Because of this I will try to use machine embroidery, I will have a lot less control of the machine which should help me create a rougher piece. On this sample I also tried out embellishing a gold coin onto the fabric, this worked but I will push it further in a future sample and experiment more with how much of it is covered and showing.

Advanced embellishments

Here I pushed what I did in my last sample further, I tried a few methods of getting the coins stuck onto the fabric, one of them is too neat and uniform I want them to be freer and much more random, they must be secure so that the coins don’t fall out but also have enough of the gold showing to make it obvious what it is which this sample shows well.

Machine embroidery

I wanted to basically recreate what I did by hand on the machine, this was a lot freer and rougher like I predicted but it was also a lot faster which will be a huge benefit going into my final making weeks. I will maybe write a bit smaller on my final as the text seems a bit large and maybe too legible right now, however this is easily fixable In my final.

Overlaying fabric choices and experiments.

I have 3 main options for an overlay fabric, netting which is white and has small but obvious holes in it. Tulle which would be either off white or white which is see through all over, soft and delicate or organza which is finer than tulle but less soft while keeping the delicate nature. I want to try the hand applique and sublimation printing on each fabric to test the use of these fabrics and weather they are useful for my final garment. The fabric has to show layers well as that is the intention for the final and it needs to take well to being hand embroidered on to be useful on my final.

The netting and organza took well to he hand embellishing, the method for hand embellishment which would be most delicate is when I sew only a small amount of the petal instead of going all around the petal with stitching, this still holds the petal without being bulky and ruining the look. This will also leave the petals hanging a bit which goes with the petals falling idea for my final. The tulle did not take well to the embellishment so it is knocked out of the running. Next I printed onto the 2 remaining fabrics, an idea which only occurred in the print room, both are synthetic which is good as technically the dye should stick but I was concerned that like with the big green nets that I put through the press a few weeks ago I was concerned that the fabrics would shrink or melt. However both of them did well when I put them in initially just to flatten them out, next I printed petal emblems on them. The netting had an interesting effect as there are considerably big gaps between strands it created and interesting negative space appearance which was not what I was looking for. The organza however did very well, it was delicate but oddly bold, you can layer more than one on top each other and it creates an effect with a lot of depth.

Final piece.

Making

What I thought would be a small task ended up taking 4 times as long as I thought it would. In practice I didn’t come across any major issues but when it came to the final everything went wrong.

The bobbin kept catching on itself which lead to a build up of thread on the inside of the garment, while this isn’t an aesthetic issue it did create some technical issues as the needle struggled not to get caught on it, this made the lettering a bit rougher than intended but as the idea of the text was a bit rough looking it isn’t too noticeable. To cover the roughed up fabric from the unpicking I add words over it so that is isn’t obvious that there is faulty fabric underneath.

A mistake I made In the final which didn’t happen in my samples was a oversight on my behalf, I sewed the top right of the bodice to the middle thought the embroidered lettering, this ruined the fabric when I unpicked it, the unpicking took about 2 hours as it was detailed and layered stitching which is not easy to undo especially when working with the fabric I was using. This set me back a day so I took 2 days of work (on and off) to finish the bodice machine embroidery. After that getting the machine embroidery done it is time to add the embellishment by hand, I add several gold coins wrapping in dark thread spread as randomly (and strategically) as possible to make it look natural and not have one side too gold heavy.

With the front panel of the bodice done I added the invisible zip into the back 2 panels before sewing the bodice all together (I will find out this is a mistake in the future) with half the zip in I then sew the darts for the back pieces and sew the bodice panels together, once this is done I do the same with the skirt panels. After the skirt panels are done I add the overskirts to the base skirt at the waist. Once that is done I am ready to attach the skirt to the bodice.

I notice that there is spare fabric in the bodice and it wont fit into the skirt, I thought I would overcome this by making sure I used my full seam allowance for the bodice however this didn’t solve this issue so I made the darts in the back panel bigger to use the extra fabric. Once I added the waist seam I then tried to add the bottom of the zip to the skirt which should have worked in theory however it was time consuming to make it match up and fit, it didn’t help that I was using a straight foot to sew the zip in instead of the zipper foot, the zip broke and I had to take it out which took a long time and messed up the fabric (as previously mentioned the fabric doesn’t take well to being unpicked) I decide to wait to see my tutor before putting another zip in and move on to the hem of the skirt, sleeves and neckline. While it pins flat, when I sew it all the hems pucker a bit (quite majorly on the neck) and I decide to hold off calling the garment finished until I can confer with my tutor.

Friday 14th May 2021.

14th of May

Friday schedule.

10-12 industrial machine induction.

12-1 overlock seems and organza.

2-3 add zip

3-4 facing for neck and sleeves.

4-5 sketchbook printing

5.30-7.30 blog write ups, plan sketchbook pages and scan in finished sketchbook pages ready for final submission.

Of this list I achieved everything before 3pm, I also had help from the pattern cutting tutor to make a facing for Tuesday, I will cut the fabric over the weekend and I will bring it in on Tuesday so that I can be taught how to add a facing. I didn’t get any sketchbook work done but I will prepare images to print on Tuesday. I have also managed to scan the first few finished pages in ready to be put on the pdf.

Additional planning

To insure l stay on top of everting l make sure to makes small manageable lists to help motivate me and keep track of what needs doing and when

Finishing’s.

As the edges were rather rough after a talk with the tutors we decided to overlock all the edges which meant undoing the original hem and we also added another invisible zip where the first one broke. After this was all done the piece looked a lot cleaner. In future I would overlock all edges on the inside of my seems and hem edges, this stops fraying and gives a clearer finish.

As my organza layers frayed a lot too I had those overlocked, the effect is prominent but it adds to the design. The effect of the overlocking is that the edges of the organza looks like a flower petal which matches the rest of my floral themed garment, the overlocking didn’t make the piece look too bulky as it was done on the mini overlocker which sews smaller. The stiches didn’t add too much weight to the hem either meaning the layers still float and are not held down by the hem which was another worry.

Last 2 weeks detailed schedule.

Friday 14th – After university – plan the next few weeks. Add to final evaluation.

Weekend – mostly blog and maybe look for photoshoot locations.

Saturday 15th – Blog day. 4 hours at least of intense blogging. Upload sketchbook pages to tumblr. Cut out facing.

Sunday 16th - 2 hours of blog making changes as discussed with tutors and 2 pages of sketchbook plus plan a few sketchbook pages.

Monday 17th – Official photoshoot plan with write up to back up decision. Prep images for printing for sketchbook.

Tuesday 18th – Get Paula’s help with sewing the facing in. Photograph final garment on mannequin and maybe shoot in front of university if there is a suitable location. Print images for sketchbook and scan in more pages for pdf.

Wednesday 19th – Food shopping so not much university work.

Thursday 20th – Photoshoot if not done. Finalise evaluation. Finish sketchbook.

Friday 21st – Edit final photos. Hand in all physical work if done. Work on blog.

Saturday 22nd – blog

Sunday 23rd – blog

Monday 24th - hand in digital.

Making continued

Tuesday 18th

I sewed the facing in, had the hem finished, had the last of the seams overlocked. This was a fairly quick process. Now it is done i can begin to properly prepare for my photoshoot.

Most of my blog was finished yesterday at home so today i printed images for my sketchbook and i will hopefully get around 5 or so pages done by 10pm tonight including pages with fashion roughs.

As for the rest of the week l will take a break on the Wednesday part from doing the photoshoot. Thursday l will make progress on m sketchbook and prepare printing for my sketchbook to do on Friday. On Friday l will hand in my final garment and final sketchbook after scanning it in ready for my digital submission which l will have ready for Monday.

0 notes

livinginlandmarketing · 4 years

Link

Debbie Reaves had settled in for a routine viewing of “The Daily Show” at her Trabuco Canyon home several months ago when she heard host Trevor Noah voice concern about whether there would be enough polling place workers come Election Day.

The fear was that seniors, who historically have often volunteered to work the polls, wouldn’t be comfortable coming out due to the coronavirus pandemic, which poses a greater risk for anyone 65 or older. Combine that with the distrust President Donald Trump and others on the right have sown about mail-in voting, plus expected record-breaking turnout, and the situation appeared ripe for potential voter suppression in the form of long lines to cast in-person ballots.

She’d never been politically active before. But Reaves, who’s 62 and healthy, decided to request for time off from her job as a project manager for a healthcare company and sign up for what she thought would be one day of volunteer work.

“Our voices need to be heard,” Reaves said, “and a safe, convenient voting environment is essential.”

Looking back, Reaves acknowledges she had no idea what she was getting herself into.

Forget tiny designated polling places in someone’s garage or a local church, monitored for a day largely by retired volunteers. In-person voting in Orange County is now a multiday event overseen at large vote centers by some 1,500 paid staffers who go through a thorough vetting process and extensive training.

This cycle, OC Registrar Neal Kelley said that includes additional training on pandemic safety measures and conflict management, such as how to handle people refusing to wear masks or otherwise disrupting the democratic process.

OC and a handful of other California counties had already moved to the vote center model and to professionalize election workers before the March primary. Since the pandemic struck, other Southern California counties have been forced to go that route because they quickly discovered the old model wasn’t going to work this fall.

Still, there are significant differences in how election worker programs are run from one county to the next.

In prior election cycles, Riverside County Registrar Rebecca Spencer said her office would recruit 3,500 people to staff 600 polling places across the county. They’d receive a stipend for one day of work plus another small payment for one three-hour in-person training.

But when they went to start putting that plan together for this cycle, Spencer said they discovered many seniors on their volunteer list weren’t comfortable working a polling place this cycle. Locations that had hosted polling stations in the past also were backing out.

Now Riverside County has hired 600 election workers to staff 130 voter assistance centers that are open for four days, Saturday, Oct. 31 through Election Day. Most of those workers are paid $15 an hour and go through two hours of virtual training. There also is one lead and one assistant lead worker assigned to each vote center.

Those workers have spent 40 hours a week for the past four weeks attending an “election officer academy” that takes them through everything from how to set up the voting equipment to how to guard against COVID-19 to how to de-escalate difficult situations.

Under this model, Spencer said they’ve had no trouble filling all 600 election worker slots, with a waiting list ready to go in case anyone drops out last minute.

San Bernardino County also moved to the vote center model for the same reason, county spokesman David Wert said. After initially having trouble recruiting from the usual pool of volunteers to staff those centers, he said they’re now relying largely on existing county workers who’ve been trained to work elections.

Two San Bernardino County workers tested positive for the coronavirus after a week-long training at the National Orange Show Event Center. But Wert said county health experts don’t believe those workers contracted the virus at the event because organizers had taken precautions such as requiring all of the roughly 400 workers to wear masks and face shields, frequent sanitization and temperature checks each day.

San Bernardino County did virtual trainings whenever possible, Wert said. But he said they needed to do some in-person training to show supervisors how to use new equipment and to do a dress rehearsal for a system that’s being rolled out locally for the first time this cycle.

Wert said they notified everyone who’d been at the training about the two positive cases, encouraging them all to get tested and telling them not to report to work if they had any symptoms. So far, Wert said no other election workers have reported feeling sick.

Orange County didn’t have any trouble with initial recruitment for its 1,500 election workers to staff 168 vote centers, Kelley said. “But as we get closer to the election,” he said, “more people cancel each day. It’s a challenge but we have been keeping up.”

The training process was a bit daunting, and the pandemic and heightened worries of violence did cause some additional concern for Linda Chezar, a Newport Beach resident who’s serving as a lead election worker at a vote center in Orange County. But at 61, Chezar said she doesn’t scare easily. And she didn’t want to let fear hold her back from participating in what she feels is the most important presidential election in her lifetime.

Chezar said seeing the process up close for the first time – with precautions such as computers that aren’t connected to the internet, to prevent any chance of hacking, and completed ballots always monitored by at least two people – has made her more confident in the security of our election systems.

“I’m really proud of what Orange County has done,” she said. “I think they have done everything humanely possible to make it easy to vote, to secure your vote and to minimize any kind of hassle.”

Just to get the OC job, Reaves said she invested four hours of her time. That included a full job application and an hour-long online test, which Reaves equated to a “mini-SAT.” She did a Zoom interview with two people and a Live Scan background check. Then she attended an on-site onboarding in Santa Ana, where she had to sign forms attesting she’d read 200-plus pages of documents and would read a 150-page Vote Center Handbook.

Once they’re hired, Reaves said election workers in Orange County have to commit to 10 days of work. That includes two days of online training, one day of on-site training, one day of set up at the voting center, five days of live voting for up to 13-plus hours and one day of helping tear down the voting center.

Given the pandemic and the commitment now involved, Kelley said OC has seen the average age of its election workers drop substantially. Some younger workers told Reaves they had been out of work due to the pandemic, so they jumped at the chance to work for a week making $19 to $21 an hour, plus some overtime until the last voter clears out on election night.

In the first hour her vote center was open Friday morning, Chezar said they processed 60 ballots without problems.

If anything does go sideways, Chezar said the county provided solid training and has good systems in place for backup. And if all else fails, she said, “I know how to dial 911.”

While Chezar knows everyone is fired up right now, she said she plans to channel her dad, who had strong political beliefs but could have respectful debates with anyone and still remain friends.

“I’m going to try to dial down the rhetoric and the fear, be reassuring and make it more of a celebration of who we are as Americans,” she said.

“We’re not red, we’re not blue – we’re American at voting time.”

Poll workers Debbie Reaves attaches a security tab—one of three—on a piece of voting equipment to ensure the machine is not tampered with. “People don’t know about all the security measures that are in place,” she said while preparing for Friday’s vote center opening at Lake Forest Sports Park on Wednesday, October 28, 2020. (Photo by Mindy Schauer, Orange County Register/SCNG)

Poll workers prepare the voting center at Lake Forest Sports Park for Friday’s opening on Wednesday, October 28, 2020. (Photo by Mindy Schauer, Orange County Register/SCNG)

Overwhelmed computers cause hours-long delays at some Riverside County voting sites

Proposition 25: Future of cash bail system in voters’ hands

Who’s knocking on my door? Coronavirus changes Inland candidates’ campaign tactics

42,000 Inland voters got more than one ballot for November election

Voters undaunted by 3-hour wait, power outage as San Bernardino County begins early voting

-on November 01, 2020 at 12:00AM by Brooke Staggs

#riversidenews

0 notes

hauntedhistorycolorado · 4 years

Text

Cheesman Park of Denver

The pavilion at Cheesman Park, photo from Pixabay, courtesy of the CU Indepedent

A foggy day in Cheesman park, photo by RJ Sangosti, courtesy of the Denver Post

Historical background

Today, Cheesman Park is a well-tended public park in central Denver, surrounded by some of the oldest mansions in the city. Close to downtown and Capitol Hill, the pavilion at Cheesman is a common location for political rallies and is a popular gathering spot for Denver’s gay community. On warm days, the park is often filled with families, couples, runners, and picnickers. And it’s common knowledge among locals that just below the grass rest thousands of corpses.

Cheesman Park was originally Denver’s foremost pioneer cemetery. In 1859, one year after the City of Denver’s inception, the location was chosen by city founder William Larimer, according to records I found on the Denver Public Library’s website, based on a site where local Native Americans observed death rites. At the same time, it was about two miles away from the city, and the original plans were for a peaceful, garden-like cemetery. However, the cemetery quickly became unsightly and overgrown. Cattle began to graze there, and local legend says that people even began homesteading on the land.

The old cemetery at Cheesman Park, courtesy of the Denver Post

Typical of wild-west cities of the time, Denver was filled with disease and violent crime, and the cemetery quickly began to fill. A common account of the first burial tells the story of John Stoefel, who shot and killed his brother-in-law Arthur Biengraff over a bag of gold dust, only to be hung from a cottonwood tre at the intersection of 10th and Cherry Creek streets. They were then buried in the same casket, trapped together for eternity. Contrary to this, a deeper dig into cemetery records shows that this is a sensationalized version of the cemetery’s history, and that John Steofel and Arthur Biengraff were actually the third burial in Prospect Hill; the first being Abraham Kay, who was killed by a sudden infection at age 26 in 1859 and the second being a teenager called B. Marywall, who was thrown from a horse. After local outlaw John O’Neal was shot outside of a saloon for being a “cheat” and buried in Prospect Hill, the cemetery gained a reputation as being the final resting place of Denver’s “criminals and paupers.” Cemetery records after this are slim; no death records other than headstones were kept, many of which were made of wood, if they existed at all.

Scan from From The Grave by Linda Wommack

In 1872, Congress decreed the site of Prospect Hill federal land, having been deeded to the government in an 1860 treaty with the Arapahoe Indians, and it was sold to the City of Denver with the provision that it always serve as a cemetery.

Prospect Hill was renamed City Cemetery in 1873, by which point it had become so dilapidated that residents preferred to bury their loved ones in the new, much more well-kept garden cemetery, Riverside. The founding of Riverside and its more stately appearance only served to increase the degenerate population in City Cemetery. Though, it should be said that people of all types were, in actuality, interred there. The current location of the Denver Botanic Gardens sits on the former site of the consecrated ground of the Catholic portion of the cemetery, known as Calvary, and there were segregated cemetery areas throughout the current Cheesman Park neighborhood, also including a Jewish cemetery, plots for various societies and organizations like the Freemasons, a plot for Chinese immigrants, and others. The poor and criminal residents were commonly buried on the outskirts of the cemetery, with those closer to the middle class filling in the center.

By the 1880s, Denver had expanded closer to City Cemetery and talk began between Congress and the City of Denver to reclassify the area as a park, for two reasons. 1) The locals didn’t want to live near a cemetery, and 2) they definitely didn’t want to live next to an ugly, desert cemetery filled with the lowest members of Denver’s population. On January 25, 1890, Congress acceded to Colorado Senator Henry Teller and the land was declared Congress Park.

Now, onto the fun:

In 1893, bodies began to be moved to Riverside. At first, loved ones of those interred were given 90 days to have bodies relocated, but very few were moved during this time, and the waiting period stretched out into years. So few of the bodies were claimed, that eventually the task of moving the bodies was contracted out to undertaker Edward P McGovern, at the agreed-upon price of $1.90 per casket removal (around $54.33 today). Only days into the mass exhumation, word of scandal reached local journalists

On Saturday, March 19, 1893, a front page story ran in the Denver Republican, headlined “THE WORK OF GHOULS! HUMAN BODIES TORN TO PIECES And All for the Purpose of Plundering the Public Treasury... Bodies Taken From Their Resting Places in the City Cemetery, Distributed Each Among Three Boxes, Carted Off to Riverside and Charged as Three ‘Bodies’”

So, McGovern and his workers were accused of hacking up bodies and distributing them into multiple child-size caskets as a way to overcharge the city and make more money. First hand accounts also tell of graverobbing. Apparently, workers were also seen removing jewelry and other personal effects from the graves.

Headline from The Denver Republican, March 19, 1893. Courtesy of the Denver Public Library archive.

A selection from the article is as follows:

“The work of removing the unclaimed bodies has now been in progress four days. During that time 491 ‘bodies’ have been boxed up and carted away, at least those are figures given by John E. Wood, Mr. McGilvray’s recent appointee to the Health department, and receipted for by A. Forsythe, the superintendent for Riverside cemetery.

Anyone who visits the scene of the disinterment at the old city cemetery and glances at the number of graves opened and coffins exposed will be somewhat puzzled to tell where all those ‘bodies’ came from.

A short visit to the cemetery yesterday accounted for the mystery.

Out of one grave, where only a single coffin was visible, three of the forty-two-inch boxes were filled. Into the first box some bones were cavalierly tossed by a workman. He then pulled another box to the edge of the grave, and into this he tossed one bone, some earth, and a portion of the coffin. After this the son of toil rested awhile. The graves on each side of him were being excavated by other workmen, and he evidently did not care to move, so he called for another box.

At this juncture a man came along with a pot of paint and brush and numbered and lettered the two boxes already filled from he single grave. John E. Wood, the representative of the Health department, also came up. When he saw the third box he asked the man in the grave what it was for. ‘Oh, I guess there’s another one here,’ said the grave-digger, as he threw a shovelful of earth into the box. Mr. Wood looked into the grave, said ‘Humph,’ and walked away. Another shovelful of earth and some crumbled wood was then thrown into the box, the ‘remains’ were disinfected, the lid fastened on and the ‘body’ of ‘274, B. H.,’ shipped to Riverside.”

Immediately after the article ran, McGovern was fired and the project was terminated when the Health Commissioner began an investigation. A new contractor was never hired, and the park project was put on hold. The cemetery was fenced off, and many of the graves remained open. Eventually, the park project was finished. Many of the oldest trees in Cheesman Park today were planted int the open ground of unearthed graves. The park was renamed after Walter S Cheesman in 1907 when his widow came forward with a donation of funds to build a pavilion in an effort to beautify the park. Another nearby park still holds the name of Congress.

Cheesman Park, arial view 1940s-1950s, courtesy of the Denver Public Library

Bodies continued to be moved into the 20th century, with the Hebrew burial ground being relocated in 1923 and the bodies at the Catholic Calvary cemetery moved in the 1950s. However, it is estimated that betwen 2,000 and 3,000 corpses still remain under the park. Bones continue to be uncovered. Wooden caskets that were buried while the cemetery was in use have collapsed underground and are said to be responsible for the depressions in the earth all over the park, the majority of these being concentrated on the North-West side, near the playground. As the soil shifts, heavier rocks and other objects sink, while lighter objects, like bones, begin to rise. Human remains are often dug up by dogs playing in the park. Corpses found in Cheesman are often well-preserved, occasionally mummified, due to the dry climate.

In 2010, four skeletons were uncovered by a construction crew doing irrigation work. One of these had risen until it was only a few feet below the surface and was found close to a sidewalk. Then Denver Parks and Rec spokeswoman, Jill McGranahan, had this to say about the incident:

“Many of the bodies left in Prospect Cemetery were those of paupers and criminals. Unfortunately, there is no way of knowing or even finding out who they are or if they have existing relatives. We told them [the construction crew] of Cheesman’s past and that coming upon skeletons was a real possibility. They all agree that it was still unsettling the first time. As one of our workers stated, he arrives after the sun is up and leaves before it goes down, so he doesn’t take any chances.”

Skeleton uncovered in Cheesman Park, 2010, courtesy of the Denver Post

The hauntings of the Cheesman Park neighborhood

Stories of hauntings in Cheesman Park, the Botanic Gardens, and the surrounding homes are still wildly popular among locals. Mansions in the area are said to have provided inspiration for ‘80s horror films Poltergeist and The Changeling (stories surrounding these homes in particular are difficult to pin down on any factual basis). The most commonly reported incidents in the park include: cold spots, sudden feelings of dread or anger, and disembodied voices. Full-bodied apparitions have also been sighted, and are sometimes said to communicate directly with the living. According to local legend, those who walk through the cemetery on a foggy night have experienced views of phantom headstones, as though they have been transported back in time to Prospect Hill.

Paranormal investigation teams visiting the park have experienced EMF (electromagnetic field) spikes, as well as lights flickering, rapidly spinning compass needles, EVPs (electronic voice phenomenon), photographic anomalies (orbs, light, apparitions), cold or sickly feelings, and the sensation of being touched.

CLICK HERE FOR GHOST STORIES SURROUNDING CHEESMAN PARK.

Reflective commentary

A common theory in paranormal investigation is that spirits tend to remain on Earth where ever they suffered the most in life, and due to that, cemeteries are not usually the most spiritually active places. However, it is also said that defilement of bodies, particularly those buried on consecrated ground, can lead to spiritual activity. The relocation of the graves from Prospect Hill, and the way many of the bodies were split across several caskets, and the lack of marked graves for those who remain, is said to contribute to the high level of spiritual activity still in Cheesman Park today.

My friend Martha and I visited Cheesman Park in fall of 2019 both during the day and after nightfall. Neither of us experienced what we could suspect as spiritual activity.

Martha records while I try to pick up EMF readings, photo taken by me (on the GoPro), November 2019

Cheesman Park is an interesting case, not only because of its wild history, but also because of its contemporary function as several public parks, a popular tourist attraction, and the stateliest homes in Denver. The oldest and largest homes in any city are likely to attract rumors of hauntings, and I have no doubt that many of the homes in the Cheesman Park neighborhood would still have stories of hauntings attached to them even without the history of Prospect Hill attached to them. This combination of the “haunted house” trope with the “cemetery” trope shows how types of stories of hauntings and come together, and the history of the park shows us how and why these stories can develop. As public space, the Cheesman Park neighborhood is in a unique position to be constantly interacting with the modern world; new ghost stories of Cheesman Park are always developing, keeping a close relationship with the contemporary locals and the underlying history. Its influence of pop culture is also singular - a shining example of how the history of ghost stories can change and perpetuate the cultural lexicon of the liminal and strange.

CLICK HERE FOR ALL FIELD NOTES AND SOURCES FOR THIS LOCATION.

#findings #cheesman park

0 notes

komatsunana · 7 years

Text

Ai Yazawa End-of-Book Notes 1-21

So at the end of every volume of NANA, Ai Yazawa has a brief paragraph about the manga or just some introspection about her life. They give great insight into the series and I think only a few are found on the scans of NANA online, so I thought I’d share them all!

Volume 1

The creator, Ai Yazawa, told us, “I created this story so that it could be enjoyed as a stand-alone and, at the same time, have a complete ending that could be connected to an ongoing series. I hope you’ll look forward to the future of the two Nanas!”

Volume 2

A note from Ai Yazawa: “I had thought that if the two Nanas met each other, they would probably be constantly fighting, but they seem oddly friendly. What’s up with that?! It’s one of me (not so) seven wonders (ha-ha).”

Volume 3

Since childhood, the artists I’ve looked up to haven’t been writers and illustrators, but mostly musicians. Music provides me the most emotional effect and excitement. If there was no music, I don’t think my creative juices would boil. Music is that important to my life.

- Ai Yazawa

Volume 4

I realized one day that there are hit songs with the same names as the main female characters, NANA, JUNKO, and SACHIKO (the kanji for JUNKO is different, though). It’s not that big a deal, but I sometimes just hum the melodies longingly.

- Ai Yazawa

Volume 5

In the initial drafts, Nana’s band was a rockabilly band like the Stray Cats. But due to various circumstances, I didn’t keep it that way. But if they were rockabilly, Ren, Nobu and Shin would have had pompadours. And Yasu too?

- Ai Yazawa

Volume 6

When I was a child, I used to take piano lessons. Even after I stopped taking lessons, I bought sheet music I liked and continued playing. I’ve had my hands full for several years now, but one of these days I’d like to learn how to play jazz piano, which I’ve wanted to do for years now.

- Ai Yazawa

Volume 7

I had an opportunity to interview a group of professional musicians. I showered them with questions, but they answered willingly, and it was very helpful. I was having problems balancing the fictional world of manga-like simplicity and gorgeousness with a sense of reality. But I realized again that what’s important is the humanity of the characters.

- Ai Yazawa

Volume 8

When I was in high school, there was a cool girl in my class who was a lone wolf. I was really into a foreign New Romantic-type band then, and when she asked me one day, “Do you want to go to their concert together?” I was overwhelmed. My heart fluttered more than when I was with my boyfriend (☺). Have you had a Hachiko experience like that? - Ai Yazawa

Volume 9

One day, I realized I had to write a bonus story. I was talking to my editor about it (Let’s do a story about the history of Trapnest!) when Naoki swooped down triumphantly, shouting “Then I’m the star!” The day will come when he gets his place in the sun. You really don’t know what’s going to happen next in this manga! ☺ - Ai Yazawa

Volume 10

Natural disasters can’t be prevented, but man-made disasters don’t have to occur. That’s what I think. I didn’t end up writing real world events into the Nana story, cause there are people who would have been deeply affect by my retelling. I wouldn’t be able to keep it ambiguous enough, and I didn’t want to just brush over the issue irresponsibly. I hope you all understand. - Ai Yazawa

Volume 11

The 2001 Chofu City Hanabi Festival was really postponed ‘cause of typhoon and was rescheduled for Oct 27. When I was taking photos by the Tama River, an old man started talking to me and told me that “the fireworks festival that as cancelled is going to be held soon.” The entire fireworks arc was born that way. A uniquely precious encounter. It came out of this chance encounter with that man. Thank you very much. - Ai Yazawa

Volume 12

Nana is expanding into other media! Since I believe it’s my duty to concentrate on my work, my policy is to get involved as little as possible. (Sorry!) The way the creators are developing this work is so passionate, I’m overwhelmed by it. I have to do my best along with Blast, so people don’t say this manga is worthless and that the publicity is the only good thing about it. - Ai Yazawa

Volume 13

Before the shooting of the movie began, I accepted and offer to rite the lyrics for the theme song. I did this to thank them and hoped it would be a song of encouragement. I had my doubts, ‘cause I was worried it might not turn out how they wanted. But the heartwarming work of HYDE, the composer, cheered me on. The live-action NANA movie is filled with director Otani’s (and many others’) love for Nana. I was very moved by that. So please watch the movie and feel their love too. - Ai Yazawa

Volume 14

I confess. The seven characters I find easiest to draw (as pictures and as characters) are Kudo from Search Weekly, Hachi’s father, Kawano from Gaia, Matsuo from Gaia, the guard Yamagishi, Ginpei Moroboshi, and Mitsuru Narita. I’ve been a manga for 20 years. Lately I’ve been wondering about myself as a shoujo mangaka. ☺

- Ai Yazawa

Volume 15

In the small garden of the house I’ve been living in for over ten years, I have encountered many living beings. Stray cats taking naps, intimidating praying mantids, lizards shining iridescently, a jet-black leech with a head shaped like a hammer, long thin flatworms, and snakes. A perfectly shaped cast-off cicada shell has turned into a fixture for three years because I didn’t want to take if off the window screen. When I’m busy, I want to move to a condominium in the heart of Tokyo, but I feel at home in this place.

Volume 16

I talked before about wanting to make Blast a rockabilly band. The other day, the editor of Tenshi Nanka Ja Nai pointed out, “Ms. Yazawa, you said you wanted to do a rockabilly band story before you began Ten-nai.” I don’t remember that at all, but I had the idea that long ago?! Nowadays, I really have the urge to draw a comedy manga: What if Blast was a rockabilly band? ☺

Volume 17

I don’t particularly like talking about my age ☺, but maybe because of my age or not exercising enough or the curse of the Demon Lord, I can’t overexert myself anymore. I’m going to get a thorough physical checkup for the first time in my life. It’ll take two days, including an overnight stay, and they’re going to check all my internal organs thoroughly. How frightening. I should have the results by the time this volume comes out in Japan. Please pray that I won’t be thrown in the hospital. Not for my sake, but for Nana and the others!

Volume 18

Hello. They found something wrong with me during the thorough physical checkup I mentioned in volume 1. I went to the hospital, I gave up smoking for a while, and in the end, I had an operation. I’m finally getting better. I apologize for making people worry. During my hospital stay, the beautiful nurse inserted a painkiller suppository as if it was nothing and told me “I’m a big fan ♥.” I was really embarrassed! ☺ Thanks for taking care of me. Thank you!

Volume 19

Hello. I wrote in the last volume that “I’m getting better,” but as soon as I wrote that, I had to call an ambulance and was forced to suspend the series, so the release date of the new volume was set back. I’m really sorry to keep you people waiting! For those of you who waited patiently, thank you so much. It’s a rare thing for me, but I took a break like a human being, and so this time I was able to recover completely. From now on, I’ll my best but won’t push myself to the brink of collapse. Please watch over Nana-san and the others from now on as well!

Volume 20

Hello. Because of the way the story turns out, I thought it would be inappropriate to joke around with bonus pages at the end of the volume. I figured we could do without them sometimes, that they’re just bonus pages, so I took the plunge and did away with them completely this time. But I’m feeling super anxious ‘cause it seems like somethings missing. It looks like I can’t be a stylish mangaka who can play the game with just the main story, someone who doesn’t need to throw up a smoke screen with the extras.

Volume 21

Hello, Yazawa here. With this volume, no matter what scene I was drawing, I as heartbroken. I had a hard time, and it took longer than usual to draw. So it was such a relief when Satsuki appeared. Somehow the panel with Satsuki and Yasu together felt especially soothing. I never envied any of Yasu’s girlfriends or Nana, whom Yasu protects, but I’m totally jealous of Satsuki, whom Yasu’s taken under his wing since she was a baby.

#nana #ai yazawa #if you noticed any typos tell me!!#i hemmed and hawed over posting these all separately or not #i decided not to for the sake of everyone's dashes #i also have so much I want to say about what she said... but again #i worry about people's dashes lol #i admit i got a lil emotional once i got to volume 17 #just knowing how things turn out with her health #what a gracious woman though #i hope she's learned jazz piano in the passed 7 years like she mentioned wanting to do #i feel so much love for her right now #i scream #my nana feels

813 notes · View notes

binaryace · 7 years

Text

Sorry, i meant to put the first chapter on a few days ago. Got sidetracked, so here we go. First chapter of my book Of Games&War, check it out.

One Come one, come all. The game is about to begin. Some will rise, some will fall. The one who takes the life I desire will have their deepest desire come true, but make no mistake, if you harm a mundane; a punishment will befall you. Let the games begin. Today should have been an ordinary day for Adrian, an ordinary day filled with endless possibilities. If it weren’t for the outrageous amount of death surrounding him. He stood, facing the mirror. The mess of curls sat on his head, no amount of product could tame it. The mirror looked as if it’s crying as he shuffled the wet curls. Adrian knew no matter what he tried to do, they would go every which way. With a frustrated sigh, leaving as it is and started to button up his white shirt. A green rabbit sat on the breast pocket, the logo for Regis Private Academy. Tucking it in, giving himself a once over. His tan skin and freckled face hid behind the eyebrow leveled curls. Dark circles sat under his forest green eyes, causing them to look like a darker shade of emeralds. The amount of times Adrian pulled all-nighters showed more on his face today. Every time he pulled one, he regretted it the next day. Having headaches and tired eyes is not ideal but mid-terms are right around the corner. “Adrian,” his mom called from upstairs, her voice restless; breaking him away from his tired image. “Hurry up and eat or you’ll miss the bus.” “Coming!” Yelling back, grabbing the greed plaid tie from off the mirror. Even though Adrian is in his junior year of high school and has his license, the students of Regis Private Academy are not allowed to drive to school—at least until the police leave. Though he didn’t mind, driving isn’t something he liked to do. A luxury to get away at times but to him, it seemed like a lot of work. Driving around town when he has two perfectly healthy legs. Once the tie is fixed in its place, Adrian went to gather his things. The brown leather book bag laid on top of gray covers. Books and scattered papers covered the edge of the bed from last night’s study session. Graduating early isn’t something he wanted to do, Adrian just liked to stay ahead. Better ahead than behind. Stacking the papers and books before putting them neatly into the bag, scanning the bed for his phone. He knew he had it last night so he could listen to music, scratching his head. He swore the last time he saw it sat on the bed or maybe it’s being used as a book mark. Checking the books in his back, all flat and no phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the phone sitting on the nightstand, plugged in and ready to be used. Smiling, thankful it isn’t in between the bed and the wall, who knows how many times he lost it to the abyss that sits under his bed. Placing the bag around his chest, unplugging the phone. The screen lit up, no new messages. Only the background of his friends and him on the fourth of July. Christa with red, white, and blue tights and white eye shadow with red lipstick. Jacob with an American flag tank top. He remembered that day, sitting on the dock with the festival behind them. Lights blinking in the back, waiting for the fireworks to start. The best time during the summer is walking around at night, only they knew the adventures that lie in wait for hungry adventurers to trail with the stars above them. Illuminating the night with the moon high in the sky. A night full of mischief waiting to happen. “Adrian!” She hollered again, snapping him out of the memories, “get your little butt up here!” “Sorry, I’m coming!” Putting the phone away, hoping to take another picture like that this year. There is something that mesmerized him about photos. A memory captured and immortalized in a pocket-sized paper, ones that can’t be forgotten. He loved them, though he isn’t very good at taking pictures, he still tried. Nothing like blurry photos to show how much fun one is having. Quickly coming up the stairs, feet pounding loudly on the wooden stairs while he messed with his collar. The smell of eggs and sausage filled the air as he came into the kitchen. Oil crackled in the pan, spatulas scrambling eggs and flipping the meat. His mom hummed a song he couldn’t place, he knew she is concentrating by that sound. Smiling as he sat down, putting eggs on, hearing the TV. The weather is calling for snow and a drop-in temperature. Thankfully he always carried around a jacket even in the middle of summer, who knows how long warm weather can last. With her back to him, she seemed younger. Her curly brown hair sat against her back in a low pony tail. When he stood next to her, Adrian towered over her by a few inches. He always laughed as she tried to get him to sit or bend down so she doesn’t feel like the smallest one in the family. Wearing a gray pencil skirt with a black button up shirt underneath a pink apron. Turning with a hot pan and placed it on the table. Already undoing it before sitting down. She is beautiful, even with laugh lines and crow’s feet causing her chocolate brown’s to be even darker. With all that, she didn’t seem her age. Adrian couldn’t figure out why, her sense of aura around her is different. Filled with wisdom and love. Margaret is always full of smiles even being a full-time lawyer and mother, working nonstop; she still managed to make breakfast every day. Sitting next to his father, Margaret started to fill her plate. Adrian watched his father as he read the newspaper, wearing a blue button up with a black tie and khakis. John looked his age, with graying blonde hair and beard. Crow’s feet, laugh lines, and tired eyes on his light skin, showed off the freckles more. Adrian got his dad’s broad shoulders, square jaw, along with the freckles and green eyes. The curls, tan skin and most of her Hawaiian features from his mom—high cheekbones, plump cheeks, and a small nose. Though to this day, Adrian wished he had tamable hair like Johns. “Good,” Margaret began in a silvery voice, “at least you will be able to eat breakfast.” Nodding as he took a bite of sausage, eyes trailing to the newspaper. Most of it gibberish, either all about sports or the local weather or whose running for what or celebrity gossip. The index showed just a little from behind folding pages. A section on the upcoming school musical, the lacrosse game next Friday, and the words that stuck to him, caused him to choke. Regis Private Academy killer, still at large? Adrian knew about the killings that went on around the school since the beginning of the semester. No one could stop talking about it, annoying really; just when he thought he could get away from it, it comes into his house. It would be normal to shut down the school, parents and teachers alike wanted to keep everything as normal as possible. Whatever normal meant, aside from classes and sports; the most normal that school ever had is last year during the terrible snow fall they had that shut down the school for a good week. The terrible snow that kept his friends in his house, he didn’t complain; more time to hang out with them without the threat of sports or art contests or even projects that lie in wait for students who procrastinate so much rush to get it done. “Are you sure it’s okay for you to go to school?” John asked with raised eyebrows, folding the newspaper. “You could come with me to work or with your mom today, missing one day of classes won’t hurt your GPA.” Taking a sip of orange juice, “you ask me that every day.” Coughing, feeling the acidic orange burn down the wrong tube, “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your lectures or on mom’s office, besides, I’ll be fine. With all the officers at the school, I am as good as protected.” After having said that, Adrian didn’t feel protected at all; without the officers, who knows who else would wind up dead. Normally, John never asked him to miss school. The first time he had been asked about it is when the first body had been found. Has another body been found? He wondered, it is the only plausible reason for dad to ask me that. John could see the confusion on his face, silently pushed the paper across the table. Unsure of what to expect, grabbing the crinkled paper. The thin letters and dark ink felt like it could stain his fingers. Every other article began to fade as he read the fine bolded text: Another student of Regis Private Academy, gone. Late last night, around 10:50 p.m. Sophomore Erin Lackston had been found by the janitorial staff. Local police are still investigating; reports say it is the work of the same killer who had killed 3 other girls, just a few weeks prior. Police are requesting any information that could help solve this case, they are advising people to follow curfew. Please be advised, until this case is closed, there will be strict protocols. Adrian’s heart dropped, there isn’t anything more about the case. Only the names, ages, and school year of the victims sat underneath. He knew them but he had only seen them around school and small articles about them in the school paper; other than that, he never talked to them Unable to tear his eyes away, reading their names. Fourth victim: Sophomore, Erin Lackston, age 16. Third victim: Senior, Rachel Bright, age 18. Second victim: Senior, Haru Tamako, age 19. First victim: Freshman, Gabriella Valentino, age 13. Putting down the paper, already pulling up their page on the school website. Out of the hundreds of students that go to his school, only four were marked with in memory of. Adrian could only remember just small bit about them, a small piece that stuck to him. Keeping them forever alive in his mind. Erin Lackston had been the athletic type. Captain of the girls’ varsity wrestling team. Chocolate brown hair that sat in two braids down her chest, baby blue eyes and a beauty mark under her right eye. Sun-kissed skin hid underneath her uniform and the Letterman jacket. She is smiling so brightly that Adrian felt his heart break a little more. Even during school, she never seemed stopped smiling. It pained his heart even more knowing he will never see that smile again. Rachel bright had been the friendliest girl in school, always protecting younger students. Adrian only knew her one time, his first time coming to school he got lost and Rachel offered to give him a tour. Though when they first met, she didn’t have as many piercings as she did in her senior year. Sticking her tongue out and flipped off the camera. Short bob cut, longer in the front and spiked in the back. Fading from black to blue. A silver piercing sat in between her vivid yellow-greens. Black eye shadow making them darker. The uniform hid underneath a black biker jacket. Regis Private had always been the school that embraced the students’ unique styles, just as long as they wore the uniform correctly. Adrian wonder just how they got caught by the killer, two of the strongest girls in the school and yet, they became a victim. It just goes to show that anyone can become a victim. With how strict the school is, they couldn’t have been caught off guard—unless, somehow, they knew who the culprit is. Haru had been the one he’d been closest too. He met her in the library the first time she moved to America. Losing her way around, barely understood the layout of the school. After spending 16 years in Japan. Even meeting her once, he felt like he knew her for a lifetime. Her parents had been stationed there and after so many years, they were deployed back home. Her smile contagious, even in picture form. Light skin, almond shape brown eyes and high-cheekbones. Long black hair, going past her ribs with straight across bangs. Holding up a peace sign with a fire in her eyes. Uniform undone at the top showing off her bust. Gabriella, the youngest; taken far too soon. Adrian didn’t know her very well, only seen her a couple times in the student council office or putting up flyers for events. She smiled big in her photo, showing off braces. Copper skin showing off auburn eyes that hid behind red-rimmed glasses. A pink bobby pin pinned back luscious curls out of her face. To this day, Adrian wondered if she always had a smile on. He never got the chance to talk with her. Is the killer someone from our school? Wouldn’t that make any student a target? Why just these girls? Adrian pondered over the thought as he put the newspaper down, picking up his fork again. A chime went off for a text but when he grabbed out his phone; there are no messages. Not even an email or a notification about severe weather; just a card sitting underneath. Sleek ominous obsidian sat in the palm of his hand. No bigger than a playing card, on the flip side, the same sleekness all around. Through it, Adrian thought he could see his face; almost like a mirror. If it had been a horror movie and he stood in the bathroom, words would surely be sprawled across in blood-red lipstick stains; instead, gold took the place of the red in a glowing cursive. Tick Tock goes the clock; each tick comes and goes. The more ticks, the faster your time runs out. The game is starting, secrets will dance; how much time do you have before the next one comes? “What the…” he muttered to himself. What secrets? How did that get there? His thoughts kept running around, trying to figure out why or how it got into his pocket. He hadn’t bothered to pay attention to his parent’s chitchats, till his name left Margaret’s blossom-pink lips. “Do you think Adrian will be okay? Even in broad daylight, who knows what they are thinking.” Margaret leaned closer, “you and I both know them better than…” “I know but we can’t keep him from going out in public.” John stated, “besides, Josiah said he is sending someone over there.” Josiah? Adrian squinted at that name. “Yes, well, I don’t know if I trust that…” Margaret felt Adrian’s eyes watching them. She stopped talking, smiled small and hiding words on her tongue. Why are they being so secretive? Wanting to learn more, curiosity is human nature. A curse and a blessing at times, in this case, a little bit of both. Only knowing they won’t say anything more, not after getting caught. Staring at them, no matter how much he wanted to ask them, he knew neither of them will give him an answer. “It’s just sad to see these young girls leave the world to early,” Margaret quickly erased the silence. Sighing heavily, her rich rhythmic coastal accent came out more in sadness. A soft, easy flow. “It’s all over the news, the office is just going crazy.” “You would think the school would shut down for the time being,” John groaned, sipping on his coffee. Eyeing Adrian over the rim. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with your mom or me? It would be alright, until all of this is resolved.” “Even if the school did shut down, the students would still be in danger. There had been talk of it at the PTA meeting, even Janice opposed the school shutting down.” Margaret jeered, “that women is all about Jacob’s lacrosse career.” “I’ll be fine, really.” Adrian smiled, trying to keep his mind off the card and what his parents are hiding. “Besides, I have Jacob and Christa to protect me.” Putting a hand over his heart; hoping they wouldn’t see how badly he is shaking, “I promise to never leave their sides.” Margaret laughed, reaching a hand toward him. “You better not, or mama will wreak havoc, my radiant sun.” He felt the heat rise in his cheeks, she hadn’t called him that in over a year. A smile on her face, “the offer is still open.” Adrian slid the card back under his phone, checking the time. The clock reading 7:15. As the bus pulled up outside, he quickly put his dishes in the sink and headed towards the door. Calling over his shoulder, “maybe one of these days I’ll take you up on your offer.” Running out the door and messed with the hood of his jacket, getting met with the brush cold of winter. Rubbing his hands together, getting on the bus. The heat worked in the bus, everyone is thankful for that; freezing all the way to school isn’t the worst thing that could happen. Rather, during the winter you could put on more layers. Still, he wanted summer to come quickly so he wouldn’t have to keep shoveling the driveway. Taking a seat in the middle of the bus, putting on his headphones. No matter how much I think about it, the world is dangerous. He thought, leaning against the window. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t feel sorry for the girl’s families. Since the beginning of second semester, everyone is on edge. I wish they would close the school down until everything is over with. That way, we can have time to mourn over them. I hate how we have to keep going forward instead of taking the time to mourn, it makes going to school harder. Feeling the bus come to a stop; Adrian waited it out, changing the song to the next one. Perfectly painted blue nails covered the screen. Bracelets jingling as they slid down a tan arm, getting stuck on leather gloves. She pulled down her sleeves. “So, lots of jewelry today, Christa?” Pulling down his headphones, she grinned as she sat down. Her rich accent came out, “just for you, so you can know who exactly is trying to get your attention.” Christa Ba’ay, Adrian’s best friend since freshman year. Moving from India to America for her father’s work, a hardworking business man; never having time for his daughter but it didn’t seem to bother her. Pulling her thick wavy dark chocolate brown hair into a pony tail, hazel eyes staring at him. “What?” Adrian chuckled, “you always seem to know exactly what to say.” Shrugging, pulling her bag onto her lap as the bus lurched forward. Wearing black tights under her green plaid skirt and a white heavy coat with a black scarf wrapped tightly around her throat. Plump cheeks with an oval face and curvy hips that showed more without her jacket on. “That’s because I have had a lot of practice with you and Jacob.” Laughing like this, the entire world seemed to fade. No murders filled the room, no sad memories coming to light, and no magic cards coming into his hands. All is right in this one moment. This one chance at normalcy. Except the raging thoughts about the time Christa had been questioned by the police a few weeks after Rachel’s body appeared. He remembered that day, sun shining bright and snow started to fall. They asked her all sorts of questions that seemed out of place: if she had been acting weird before, did she hang around a bad crowd at school, how is her family life, is someone stalking her, etc. Christa didn’t know, she only knew her from art class. The police got tired of asking all the same questions, hearing the same answers from the other students of the class but that is what makes an investigation go smoothly. The only thing Christa told Adrian, seemed out of place to him. “I told the police she recently got a boyfriend, I think he is 2 years older than her. I didn’t catch his name, only that he worked as a mechanic, but she was head over heels for him.” “Why is that relevant?” Adrian had asked. Christa bit her thumb nail, trying to get the words out. “She told me he has anger issues, I even caught a few bruises on her stomach and arms during P.E. once and when I confronted her to bring it to the police, she only smiled and said it’s no big deal.” She dragged her hand through her hair, “I guess it was a big deal.” Adrian hadn’t been sure if the police went looking for him, they had so many names to stiffen through. Even now, he didn’t think he had any part in her death. Only someone who wants to see others suffer can take another life, bruising is one story but taking a life is another. Assuming he is still a suspect but with Erin being found, there is no way to connect him to other murders. After all, they are all in separate groups and grades. He wouldn’t know Gabriella or Haru, not to mention Erin. “I heard the police will be watching over our school until the killer is caught,” she said in a taut voice, breaking him away from memories, “I wonder if they’ll be there till the end of the school year.” Christa stopped abruptly. Talking about sad stuff isn’t something she liked, “let’s talk about something else.” Dejected, Adrian wanted to talk about it and at the same time, he didn’t. Today would be no different from the last couple weeks. The police had been in and out, giving lectures on doing a buddy system, so that none of the students are alone; questioning each student vigorously. The buddy system worked for a week but started to fail, since some students walked to class by themselves. It hadn’t been an ideal system, but it worked for some. Even teachers wondered how long that could last. To Adrian, it worked well. Giving him more time to chat with his friends. After stopping it, the police started to patrol during the times students are in class, standing near exits in the halls during pass time. Once the doors are shut and all the students for each class had been accounted for, the teachers would give the roll call sheet with every student who is there or absent to the officer at the door; he would then lock the doors. Keeping everyone under lock and key; leaving the classroom before the period is over with is strictly prohibited, unless its an emergency. “Well at least we will be protected.” A male voice said putting his arms around the back of the seat. Behind them; Jacob grinned, showing off white teeth. Adrian hadn’t noticed he had come onto the bus. Maybe had already been on. Probably sleeping. Always tired, seen sleeping anywhere he could be comfortable. “True, but even then, it looks like a prison.” added Adrian. Moving seats while the bus moved, getting a warning from the driver. Jacob stood at 6-foot 1 with an undercut blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes. A chiseled jaw line, making him even more handsome than ever. Adrian wondered if he is secretly a model, with a muscled tone body and a pretty face, it didn’t surprise him when people wanted to take pictures with or of him. Being the captain of the Lacrosse team had its perks. All the girls in school flocked to him, even when he is the cliché star. A great athlete with terrible grades. Without even knowing who he is, people mistook him for a delinquent. Who wouldn’t? With his ears pierced and a tribal tattoo that went down his left arm and across his chest. He never wore the uniform correctly, tie undone and shirt untucked; always seen wearing his Letterman jacket. Christa grumbled as she got pushed into the middle. Jacob turned sideways, “who knows, maybe the police will catch the culprit today.” “Like that will happen,” she crossed her arms. “It’s been months since the first murder and they still don’t have any leads.” “How do you know that?” “If they already knew who the culprit is, then the police wouldn’t be at the school.” She held up a hand, “it’s simple. Jacob leaned closer, trying to stay on the seat. Adrian had to laugh, knowing she is right. It’s simple honestly, if they had the culprit; there would be no reason for the police. As the bus came to the stop light, all three of them didn’t live far from the school; always the last to be picked up. School started at 8, it had only been 20 minutes since they got on. Snow started to fall, blanketing the sidewalks and freezing the air. Listening to Christa and Jacob talk about the case—she sounded agitated; while Jacob sounded like he loved making her angry on purpose—as he put his head against the window. They never seemed to get along, even though they are always together. Adrian knew it’s because of him. Being both of their best friends; wanting to hang out with him while simultaneously putting up with the other. The card filled his mind, desperately wanting to ask if they had gotten one or if they put it under his phone and he just forgot about it. Yeah, because that seems like a plausible situation. His voice rang in his head, they couldn’t have gotten one because he knows them more than they know. Jacob would bring it out in the open and ask anyone on the bus if they are playing a trick on him and Christa, she would quietly ask Adrian if he got one as well before turning her attention to Jacob and ask him the same thing. That is the one thing he is grateful for, having friends who are suspicious of everything. His eyes traced the buildings as the bus lurched forward again. Watching the morning people walk. Some in business suits, others in workout clothes—unable to register why people would workout in twenty-degree weather—or normal attire; when he was little he made it a game to tally the number of each he sees before reaching his destination. So far, I have seen 6 business suits, 8 in workout, and 10 in normal. White puffs of smoke coming out of the passersby’s mouth while they talked on the phone or to someone next to them or while they took breaks to catch their breaths. From the background, their conversation turned to talking about the upcoming game. “Have you started on your art project?” “I will come next Friday,” she stated, “I’m drawing the lacrosse team for the yearbook. It beats a picture.” “Oh,” Jacob gasped in excitement, “can I be in the middle of it all? You know showing the captain more is better.” “It’s of the team, not a self-portrait.” Adrian choked on his laughter, Christa always had a snarky comeback to all of Jacob’s remarks. Feeling Jacob push Christa into him as he slapped his shoulder, only made him laugh harder. Laughter erupted from all of them, as Adrian turned back to the window. Counting again, his eyes landed on a girl. Time seemed to slow down as their eyes met. Standing near a light post, watching as the bus went by. All he managed to get a good look at is the uniform on her and a glare from her before she vanished behind cars. Even if he couldn’t get a good look at her face, Adrian knew; they would be seeing each other at school. If she doesn’t end up in the principal’s office for missing the bus, already in violation of the school rules. “Why is it that you always have to be the center of attention?” Christa’s voice cut through him. “Who wouldn’t want to have someone as good looking as me be in center stage? Isn’t that what all theatre nerds want? A pretty face to get an audience?” “Only you could think of it that way,” Adrian chimed in, trying to make a joke. “Isn’t it better to have the whole team instead of only just the captain?” “See,” Christa pointed to him, “even Adrian gets it.” Jacob mocked with his hands and a roll of his eyes. The bus pulled up to the school, lights flashing; telling ongoing cars to yield. Flying off on by one, Adrian stared up at the school with a shiver. The security had tightened, metal detectors visible through the open doors. K-9 officers stood in lines, German Shepard’s sitting still. Protecting isn’t the term he would use, more like guarding. Like we are the prisoners and the officers are the wardens. The dogs barked as students got out of line to go talk with their friends. Police stood by cars, SWAT teams in full gear and patrolling the grounds. Swallowing, walking forward; falling into line behind of anticipating students trying to get inside to get warm. For some reason, Adrian found himself scanning the crowds for her. He didn’t even know what she looked like, just caught a glimpse of the uniform on her. The mahogany doors open wide, climbing the concrete stairs trying hard not to slip on ice. The police divided students into three lines. Jacob went to the first line, Christa in the second, and Adrian in the third. Clenching his strap, he didn’t like being alone (even when his friends are just a few feet from him.) Jacob came up next, placing his shoes into a bin. His backpack and duffel bag filled with his lacrosse gear onto the line; taking up at least half of the rotators. Holding up his hands as he went through. It went red then green, marking him clean. Christa started to take off her bracelets and bag full of pins into one along with her shoes and jacket. Holding up her hands before turning her palms back out as she went through. The light turned green, she nodded at the officer. Adrian’s turn came up faster than he wanted. Heart pounding in his ears, every day he must go through it; it didn’t get any easier. Taking off his bag, then his shoes, belt and jacket. Emptying his pockets, his wallet and keys; all in one bin. Holding up his hands, a shy smile and walked through. Hoping it didn’t go off on him, the light turned green and he breathed. If it did go off, he didn’t have anything to hide; just be a malfunction. As Jacob and Christa waited for him, already putting on their stuff. Adrian began to look around, sounds of students arguing with the police because something got taken out of their stuff. All he managed to hear from the police is that it’s against school policy. Not sure what had been taken out or if they would ever get it back, just glad it didn’t happen to him. “Anyone else think this is a bit too much?” Jacob yawned, his deep raspy voice coming out, “I mean, this isn’t an airport.” “Well it is for a reason.” Adrian tied his shoes. Jacob made a ‘hmm’ sound in the back of his throat, holding out his hands. “Yes, but still. All of this to keep us ‘safe’.” He put air quotes around the word: safe. Grabbing the strap of his duffel and hauling it over his shoulder with ease. Christa slipped on her bracelets, asserting in a matter-of-fact tone. “Unless you can think of a way to help the police leave with the culprit in cuffs, be my guest, until then we are stuck with them. So be nice, and thank your officers.” Chuckling, Adrian found it funny seeing Christa put Jacob in his place, for a 5-foot 5 girl, she knew how to hold her ground. Especially since she is an only child and had never been around anyone taller than 5-foot 6. Jacob shook his head with a shallow grin, “fine, I’ll be nice. Doesn’t mean I won’t bitch about it.” From the second line, the alarm went off. Every student within the vicinity looked towards it. Red light blaring, the girl from the drive stood there, annoyed. Arms crossed and trying hard not to roll her eyes at the authorities. Adrian felt drawn to her. Earthy skin with caramelized eyes, one side of her head is shaved with the longer blonde waves fading to red over her shoulder. She looked tiny against the tall, muscled officer. Her pear-shaped body and sour look as she reluctantly held up her hands as the officer patted her down. Whatever she brought in, the officers didn’t seem pleased. On the rotators, her back started to get checked along with her red leather jacket and combat boots. Something had been off about her, out of place, the aura around her; other worldly. The way she carried herself, confidence with the stride of a queen, nothing could break it. As if she felt him staring, their eyes locked for a minute. Everyone around them seemed to fade. An electrifying moment sending chills up his spine, the air grew with the cold from the outside, and in that moment, they were the only ones in the world. Jacobs raspy voice made him jump, looking away flustered. Is she glaring at me? “Who is she?” Jacob fussed, “never thought those would go off.” “Her name is Taylor Anderson,” started Christa as she looked down at her phone. “Moved here from Darling, Washington because of her dad’s work and apparently she got expelled from her last school for fighting with another student.” “Wait,” Adrian leaned over her phone, “she already has a page?” Christa nodded, holding out her pink phone. Everyone—from past school years to current—had an about page of them. Who needs yearbooks, Adrian chuckled to himself. On her page, the picture of her is yellow and blurry almost as if someone took her photo well before color ink got invented. Taylor looked over one shoulder, her hair shorter than now; just above the shoulders with a full head. Adrian trailed down the page, half of the paragraph talked about where she came from, who she is, about the fight, etc. and the other half talked about the reason for her dad’s move. Adrian hated the site even though it is only accessible to students of the school, it’s still aggravating to have everything about you out on a website. No secrets at Regis. But before he could read any of it, Christa pulled her phone away. Glancing back at Taylor, the police motioned her to come with them, heading towards the front office. Reluctant as she is, grabbing her bag and followed. Passing by them, Taylor eyed him up. Trying to figure him out while trying to be subtle, Adrian wondered just what it is she is looking for. Having to look down at her, she could have been no taller than 5-foot 3. Smiling at him that quickly changed to a glare as those eyes traced his friends. “Well she doesn’t seem friendly.” Christa huffed, putting her phone away. “I don’t know, she seemed to like Adrian.” Jacob nudged him. “Yeah,” Adrian let out a breath, then muttered to himself. “Fascinating.” Walking down the hall, knowing the first bell will ring any second. The halls became scarcer by the minute as students filed into homeroom; after dropping Jacob off at his class, just him and Christa walked in silence. He quite liked the silence with her, comforting and easy to be in. Unlike with Jacob, his heart is still and steady. Trophy cases lined the walls; shelves filled full. Sports, theatre, art, pictures of every senior class from the beginning—1901 to present. Adrian couldn’t wait to see his senior class photo on the shelf with all the others. A rite of passage, seeing your graduating class on the shelves; collecting dust as the years go on. Art murals covered the used to be plain brick walls—each senior art student could paint one thing, wanting to see Christa have one area next year. Who knew what she is going to do, he hoped it would be something unique to her. Passing by posters of the upcoming spring musical pinned to bulletin boards and on lockers, ‘Heathers: the musical.’ “Are you going to the school musical?” “Not sure yet, why?” Christa looked forward, “I’m making the backgrounds for them. It’ll be amazing, I love this musical. Glad the school allowed it.” “Yeah?” Adrian stared at her, noting her ear piercings—two on each ear. “Maybe I’ll go, just to see your backgrounds.” She lit up a little knowing he is thinking of going. Adrian never understood it, the story is interesting enough but to him, isn’t something that interested him; Christa had been all about it. Playing the songs whenever she could or sing them in her car with such heart that it made him want to sing along with her. It made him happy to see her invested in school whenever it’s about art. He could listen to her talk about it all day, loved her voice. The best feeling in the world is seeing someone light up while they talked about what interests them or brings them joy. Passing by passive aggressive posters of motivators for the upcoming midterms as he took her to figure drawing. How to stay motivated and study hard: a lesson on test taking. Don’t be stressed, take a break! :) Come to the cafeteria after school to get your exam stress bag! Tons of study to do? Come to the library for extra help! Adrian couldn’t help but laugh at them. Sound of the bell echoed loudly throughout the school, notifying passing students first period is going to begin. Saying their goodbyes and making plans to meet in the court yard for lunch. Same spot every day—middle of it by the fountain, sitting under shade; except today, that’s where they would meet before going inside. Finding himself alone with the thoughts of the victims as he passed the mural for them. In memory of. He pondered over the thought of what the families are going through and why the killer is targeting students of Regis Private. Maybe it’s a grudge against the school. Still, even if it is a grudge; wouldn’t the culprit target the teachers instead of the students? Shaking those thoughts away, no use in thinking about it. What’s done is done, only way to get rid of those thoughts is to move forward. Heading to AP Chemistry with Mr. James, he loved being in that class. With all the chemicals and fire, he could make just about anything. While Christa is with Ms. Mentro, the art teacher; no one could understand what she is saying, always sounding like she is hyped on too much caffeine. Jacob with Mr. Holden, he could never be on his good side; Adrian isn’t one to like P.E. but he did stay in shape, only doing little as possible in the class. Standing in front of the classroom door, Adrian contemplated on if he just wanted to skip and head to the library to study, he is already ahead in the class. Missing one never hurt anyone. Even still, going to class is the better option. In the classroom, his classmates stood around chatting while Taylor sat in the front row. Headphones in, drowning out the whispers. She kept staring at her phone, as if waiting for a text or a call. It isn’t every day a new student arrives, it’s the talk of the school. Coming just weeks before midterms, anyone who is anyone would read the school website and try to get just about anything on her. Glad the topic change but to that, it’s not any different than the murders. The new girl arriving at a prestige private school where it consisted of rich kids. Standing out like a fox amongst wolves. Anticipating her every move. Taking the empty seat next to her, the whispers became harder to ignore. “Maybe she killed those girls.” A girl with raven hair muttered. “I heard she’s been in town since January.” A boy with spiky hair added. “No way, she doesn’t seem like the type of person.” Another girl said. “Well, how do you explain her getting caught by the scanners? Maybe she brought in a knife.” A boy with tipped dyed purple answered. The more whispers there are, the more Adrian wanted to everyone to stop adding rumors. But before he could do anything, Mr. James walked in hushing the whispers. “Alright, alright, please take your seats.” He started as the bell rang, “I know it is first period and you want to chitchat.” Mr. James spoke in a low husky voice as he put down papers and folders on his desk. He always looked a mess, today is no different. Wearing a blue plaid shirt untucked on his right hip, making his muscles show as he crossed his arms. Sleeves rolled up, even if he dressed nice, he couldn’t hide the coffee stains. Scruff covered his oval jaw, months’ worth of not shaving. Dark circles under his hessonite colored eyes sat against his bronze complexion. Brushing his black tousled hair back with his hands. “Today, there are three things on the agenda”—he held up a stack of papers— “first, these slips of papers are for your parents. The police are inducing a curfew, starting today, until the culprit is caught.” An orchestra of groans sounded through the class. Adrian didn’t mind the curfew, always home in the evening anyways. As papers went down the line, taking one and passed it; Mr. James cleared his throat. “Second thing, we will be doing a quiz and third, start talking about quantum physics but before that,” taking the stack from the empty desk, “we have a new student. A bright side to what has happened.” He spoke in a placid tone, outstretching a hand to Taylor. “Go ahead and introduce yourself, if you would like.” Taylor looked up then back down, waving silently before grabbing out a piece of paper. Closing his hand, holding up a clipboard, “okay. I am going to do roll call, then it’s the quiz.” Adrian noticed the officer at the door, waiting patiently with hands behind his back, “Taylor Anderson. Raquel Black. Riley Brack. Michael Bridges. Clay Brown.” A course of here’s went through as he called names. “Jeremy Fisch. Francis Fitton. Josh Green. Julie Harris. Martha Hearth. Lauren Hansen. Nathan Locke. Adrian Lockhart.” “Here.” “Madilyn…” the names drowned out as Adrian focused on Taylor. He wanted to know more about her and why she moved to Jacksonville, New York. Being friends is an option but Adrian didn’t know if she would like that. Besides, she seemed to be in a world of her own, staring intently at her phone. Biting her bottom lip as she read something, cursing silently in a low whisper. Shocking Adrian more when she glanced at him and narrowed her eyes. Swallowing, he looked forward. After each student’s name got accounted for, Mr. James handed the paper to the officer. Sound of the door being shut and locked, made everyone silent. It’s more real now that they lock the doors. Adrian sighed. “You will have ten minutes to do the quiz,” added Mr. James as he turned to the board, writing 5 questions out. Pulling out paper and a pencil, sneaking one more glance at Taylor. She brought out a notebook and pencil writing down the questions and answers long before the time started. “Once you are finished, turn your papers over until the time is done. You may begin.” Focusing on it, trying to get his mind off it. Adrian always enjoyed quizzes, tests, exams, anything school related. Seem to be the only one, it didn’t bother him. He finished within 3 minutes, counting down the seconds. Remembering what the card said. The more ticks, the faster your time runs out. How much time do you have before the next one comes? Heart beating faster knowing that thought is in his head. Why are weird things happening to me today? First the card and now Taylor who seems to have something against me. “Times up.” Mr. James said, “pass up your papers and open your books to page 345.” Once the stack came up to him, he held it out to him. Waiting to open his book, once the stack is gone; he feared to open it. Adrian didn’t know why but ever since that thought, he couldn’t keep his mind steady. He knew he should be afraid and he had every right to be so, in the between the pages of 344 and 345, like a book mark is another ominous card. Adrian glanced around the room. Mr. James turned to the computer, pulling up slides and went to talk about the lesson. Classmates falling asleep on their desks, checking text messages, reading books that aren’t assigned to the class, and Taylor, staring down at her phone. All Adrian could do is stare at the card; every noise in the room fading. Not sure if it he should look at it now or later. Having already learned the material for today, it wouldn’t be bad if he read it. Taking one last glance around the room; making sure not to be noticed. Flipped it over and like he asked an 8-ball a question, gold curves appeared. A pretty girl with pretty words will be dressed in black. Steps start to count, better watch your back for those who are pretty are the deadliest kind. Adrian drifted his gaze back to the clock, seconds ticking away. Taylor tapped her pencil against the side of her desk in beat of the ticking, bringing his attention to her. She eyed the card that sat in his hand and smirked. Ripping paper out of her notebook and started to write. Squinting at her, trying to figure out what she is writing as thoughts intruded the back of his mind. What is with the cards? Is someone playing a prank on me? Should I ask someone? No, maybe it’s a dream and I just haven’t woken up yet. That must be it. Noticing just a little of the watchful eyes around him, making his heart stutter with every chill that crawled their way up. The ticking of the clock began to get louder and louder with every passing second. Pinching himself, hoping it is all a dream. Considering his surroundings, instead of the classroom he would be in his bed with a mess of covers around him but it isn’t his bedroom he is in. Just the classroom with the prying eyes. It’s not a dream. The bell rang, causing him to jump like a scared cat in an alley.

#my book #my writing #please don't copy or repost it #or take it as your own #saints&sinners #of games&war

1 note · View note

hisnanoka · 7 years

Text

Nanoka no Kare - Chapter 66

Click “Keep Reading” for the translation.

The following is a very rough translation/interpretation from the original Japanese text to English via Google Translate and is not guaranteed to be accurate. Text will be reviewed and edited when a Spanish translation is available to double check for errors.

Story: Saro Tekkotsu

Art: Miyoshi Toumori

Click here for the RAW scans!

N = Nanoka | T = Takato | Y = Yuuko | C = Chisato

Page 1 – Cover page

I keep hiding what I have done to you and cannot act normal because of it.

Page 2

T: Her memory of the past half year is gone…?

Y: Yes, we cannot confirm clearly from what point

But that’s about right.

You don’t seem surprised.

Page 3

T: Ah

It seemed like that was the case when I spoke to Nanoka.

Y: So…

T: …does

She know about Hayata

Or did you guys not tell her about him?

C: Well, I think

Page 4

C: If they meet, her memory will return. That’s what happens when you really love someone!!

Y: And if it doesn’t?

Hayata and Nanoka will be hurt. Will you tell Nanoka that that is all there is to her love? Can you really say that?

C: I wouldn’t say that.

Y: But didn’t you just say that – that she will remember if she loves him?

C: Don’t

Make such a scary face…

T: ---still

To not inform her of this

[To Nanoka, it is very important.]

Page 5

Y: Could we indirectly tell her?

T: [For her sake, I must…]

Y: Nanoka’s

Photos on her smartphone

If there were pictures of Hayata-kun

We thought it would be easy for Nanoka to accept it

So I asked her to show me her phone.

Page 6

Y: But

Flowers and scenery

That’s all she had pictures of.

There were no pictures of Hayata-kun and Nanoka together.

T: That’s right

She hardly takes photos of herself.

Page 7

Y/C: How is that possible!?

T: I don’t bother taking photos of myself either.

C: What what what!?

Even with your looks!?

Y: Show me your phone!

T: Why

Y: Just give it!

Wow

C: So it’s true

What’s this photo of a print?

T: I took it as a note.

Page 8

Y: Somehow…

Your phone looks similar to Nanoka’s phone.

So you don’t have any photos of Nanoka?

T: And when was I supposed to take the photo?

Y: When you dated.

C: In the middle of a date.

T: When I’m with her?

Why should I take a photo of her when she is right in front of me.

Y/C: To look at it later!

T: Isn’t it faster to remember her from memory than to take a photo?

C: What what what…

Page 9

C: …Uesugi-kun is a rather strange person.

Y: Well, then by that logic you are also saying Nanoka is strange.

T: ……………

Y: Anyhow, like that

We decided to watch her in peace

If Hayata-kun came to see her, that would be the best but

When Hayata-kun learned that Nanoka lost her memory of him, he disappeared…

Page 10

Y: So…we don’t know how to handle this.

T: [She regretfully didn’t take any photos.]

[Because she was so into their love.]

Page 11

T: [If their future]

[Was calm, she may have taken pictures due to the peaceful time]

[But]

[Why won’t he come…]

Page 12

T: Here.

This is wrong.

The answer is - √3

N: Huh?

T: Hm? Wait, you learn about this problem when you first enter school.

Is it due to your loss memory?

N: ……….

T: Ah

My bad

Page 13

N: ……………

T: …I could teach you?

N: Takato-kun would?

T: Am I not good enough!?

…No, I’m not.

I am not good at teaching.

Kensuke told me I am scary when a person gets their work wrong.

Page 14

N: Haha

Peoplewho easily get it cannot understand why it cannot be done

When they themselves try to teach it.

T: Nanoka

Which parts do you not know

N: From which part

T: Try to solve it. I will watch.

N: Hmm…

Page 15

T: Nanoka

N: What?

T: Are you worried?

Many things disappeared. A half-year.

Page 16

N: …well…

There is only this.

My personality is quiet and so I am not a prominent person.

I’m a student. So I most likely just talked with friends and studied.

My friends are Yuuko and Chisato-chan. They were friendly with me for the past half year and so I want to return the favor.

Page 17

N: I can feel nothing for my forgotten days because I do not remember them.

So for the current me

I only lost six months’ worth of memory.

Six months of classes

…only this

From now on I want to work hard on this…

Page 18

N: Is that so wrong?

T: [Yes. That is wrong Nanoka.]

[You had a lover.]

Page 19

T: [He was there.]

[Your very important person.]

[You just can’t remember him.]

N: I’m sorry about the other day.

Saying those things and blaming you

I never thought you would apologize.

Page 20

N: …hey, when did you transfer here, Takato-kun?

Takato-kun and me

How did we speak to each other?

Page 21

T: …why do you ask such a thing?

N: Because I want to know

T: [I know what is missing from you]

I was…hated by you.

You didn’t want to talk to me…

[Your precious things]

Page 22

T: [I should help you regain it.]

N: Did I say such a thing?

But, we are speaking normally now.

T: [I decided that I should carry these feelings myself. Right now, Nanoka has lost sight of her feelings.]

[I want to be an ally to Nanoka. I sincerely hope to be there for her.]

Page 23

T: [That’s not a lie.]

We were just normal friends…

[Even though it’s not a lie]

N: Friends.

Page 24

T: …but

Actually, I don’t want to be friends

[Ah]

[I am]

[Indiscriminately]

Page 25

T: I want to start everything over with you.

[The most vile of men.]

#Nanoka no Kare #Chapter 66 #Nanohana no Kare #Translation #Shoujo #Shoujo Manga #Rough Translation

6 notes · View notes

laybackweligama · 4 years

Text

Announcing the Medical Heroes Initiative

For us Layback is not ‘just’ about tourist hospitality. Our vision is to make a positive and lasting impression on people’s lives. We already do that with our Layback groms project. yet that’s just a start.

We are overwhelmed with and thankful for the huge amount of new followers on Instagram. We realized again that building such an awesome community (both online as offline) gives us even greater opportunities to achieve our vision.

Today we are proud to present you our medical heroes initiative.

Because medical heroes - you inspire us! 💛

This pandemic is not something we planned or expected. While many of us were simply asked to stay at home, some people had an important job to do.

The doctors and healthcare workers didn’t have time to binge watch Netflix, bake banana-bread or join an online yoga class (some of the things we did ☺��). They showed up to work every single day, showing all of us around the world the true power of teamwork, kindness, strength, compassion and damn hard work!

We don’t take this for granted and wanna let you know: you guys are superheroes! Thank you to each one of you for staying strong, for always putting others first and for taking care of our friends, families and neighbors.

We truly appreciate your dedication for the exceptional work you do and are grateful for all what you have done and still do. Therefore, we want to offer something special to all the amazing healthcare workers out there!

Let us take care of you for a change! We would like to offer you a free surf & yoga package in order to fully relax, recharge and have some fun! If you are interested, please get in touch with us by email or via Instagram. Let’s get you superheroes back on your feet, aka on the surfboard! 🏄🏼

For all the non-healthcare workers: spread the word and share this offer with your healthcare friends & family and let’s collectively celebrate them! 👏🏽

MEDICAL HEROES INITIATIVE FAQ

WHO IS ELIGIBLE FOR THIS INITIATIVE?

Registered Nurses, Doctors, Paramedics, Techs and any other Frontline Healthcare Professional involved directly in the fight against COVID-19 each day. All we need is a proof of employment letter and a photo or scan of your medical ID for verification.

CAN I MAKE A RESERVATION FOR FRIENDS WHO ARE NOT FRONTLINE WORKERS?

No, this initiative is for you and only you. Every individual who wants to use this offer will need to get verified by sending us a proof of employment letter and a photo or scan of your medical ID.

HOW LONG IS THIS OFFER VALID?

We haven't currently set an end date for this initiative due to the ever changing nature of the pandemic.

IS THERE A RESERVATION LIMIT FOR THIS INITIATIVE?

Yes. Maximum of 2 healthcare professionals can stay with us per week by using this offer. Reservations subject to availability. The retreat always starts on Sunday and ends on the following Sunday.

What type of accommodation Is provided?

Deluxe AC mixed or girl dorm.

Which package can i book?

You can book our standard package. Visit our surf retreat page to compare the packages.

CAN THIS OFFER BE APPLIED TO EXISTING RESERVATIONS?

This initiative is only for use on new reservations and cannot be applied retroactively.

Photo by Kathryn Clarke McLeod

0 notes

humantraffickingproject · 4 years

Text

AI Is Helping Us Combat The Economic Problem Of Human Trafficking@Jun Wu

Jun Wu Contributor as written in Forbes

When we think of human trafficking, we often think about the despondent faces of women and children who live in slums all over the world. What if human trafficking is much closer to home than we think? In 2019, Markie Dell, stood on the TEDx stage to recount her experience of being a domestic human trafficking victim. She was an awkward teenager who was groomed by a girl that she befriended at a birthday party. She was subsequently kidnapped, drugged, sexually violated, intimidated at gunpoint into dancing in strip clubs for an entire year. She didn’t know that she was a human trafficking victim until a police officer handed her a book called, “Pimpology”. Then, she knew that she was being human trafficked. According to the Polaris Project, most human trafficking victims are trafficked by their romantic partners, spouses, family members, including parents. In the U.S., in 2018, there were 23,078 survivors identified and 10,949 cases of human trafficking. Even then, these cases are often drastically underreported.

Barbara Amaya ran away from home at the age of 12 after family members would not believe her reports of abuse from her own family. She was picked up at Dupont Circle, Washington DC by a couple that sold her to a human trafficker in New York. The trafficker reprogrammed her and trauma bonded with her. He kept her for 10 years working for him. In her TedTalk, she said, “Does it matter, if it’s one person or a million? Are you not going to care because it’s a lot of children versus just one?”

Human Trafficking Underlies a System of Illegal Organizations and Economic Activities

Just like the COVID-19 pandemic that brought all of our global citizens together, human trafficking is often linked to global transnational organized crime. These organizations often infiltrate the real economy and impact GDP. Just like drug trafficking, human trafficking presents lucrative profit-taking opportunities for transnational organized crime. Profits are often so lucrative that in the U.S., a trafficked teen can fetch the pimp as much as six figures a year. It’s not hard to see why vulnerable domestic populations can present themselves as enormous opportunities for the trafficker. Children and families that use the social welfare system are vulnerable targets for traffickers. States that have a large number of families living below and on the poverty line are most vulnerable. In recent years, on social media, families have posted about their concerns with possible human traffickers following them at big box stores. Potential traffickers can follow victims around and use a variety of tactics to engage and gain access to their children.

We look at human trafficking as a part of a broad range of criminal activities of a business. It’s a part of our money laundering investigations. Identifying people and businesses involved in human trafficking often helps us identify other criminal activities as well. Alma Angotti, Partner, Practice-Leader - Global Investigations and Compliance at Guidehouse

In recent years, countries such as the U.S., Canada and Australia are becoming money laundering havens. Anonymous corporate ownership makes oversight into shell corporations difficult. Investigating cases of money laundering, law enforcement increasingly discover agents of domestic human trafficking are part of a larger criminal enterprise. Unfortunately, domestic human trafficking is often seen as a more lucrative business venture than transnational human trafficking because there’s no port of entry or checkpoints to pass through when transporting from state to state. That lowers the cost significantly.

Big Data and AI are Changing the Game

Historically, when it comes to investigating domestic human trafficking cases, law enforcement has focused on locating victims and helping them escape their traffickers. In the last 10 years, in the U.S., these operations have rescued thousands of trafficking victims. They’ve had a huge impact on solving the human trafficking problem. However, they are not enough. As long as there are vulnerable populations and a supply/demand marketplace, traffickers will take advantage. With Big Data and AI, law enforcement can finally take a different approach and focus on identifying the larger crime organizations that are involved.

Big Data and AI enable us to have an impact on human trafficking today that we couldn’t 8 years or 10 years ago. As a behavioral scientist, I can draw inferences from behaviors I can see about the behaviors that I can’t see. Machine learning can help us understand patterns in seconds that a human might take several life spans to be able to understand. Dr. Gary M. Shiffman, Founder of Giant Oak

Under the umbrella of Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA), in recent years, innovative technologies were developed that are used by companies such as Marinus Analytics and Giant Oak to help law enforcement have an unprecedented view of criminal organization’s activities. This involves giving law enforcement the big picture of a criminal organization’s activities as well as the ability to pinpoint leads that will enable law enforcement to identify possible criminal relationships and activities. Human trafficking, as a business for criminal organizations have a retail component to their business. Unlike drug trafficking, the data for human ads displayed, communications of a possible sale are often publicly available over the Internet.

If you are going to traffick humans, there needs to be a retail component of what you are doing. There needs to be a mechanism for traffickers to put up ads and make known that they have humans for sale. This is an opportunity where you have public facing data in web pages, on social media, in ads, in chats, etc.. This has to be publicly available to facilitate purchase. Dr. Gary M. Shiffman, Founder of Giant Oak

In 2012, a student, Emily Kennedy from Carnegie Mellon University started to look into the issue of human trafficking and found that AI technology can be used to leverage the retail component of the Human Trafficking business to uncover human trafficking operations. She started Marinus Analytics, a company that uses artificial intelligence and machine learning in their software Traffic Jam to comb through publicly available data all over the Internet to help to identify patterns of human trafficking. Law enforcement agencies in several countries use Traffic Jam to follow up on leads generated and conduct rescue operations. This year, Marinus Analytics is a semi-finalist in the prestigious IBM Watson AI XPrize, a competition that rewards technologists who use AI to solve global issues.

Computer vision can identify the same pattern in many different photos, like the pattern in a hotel bedspread. This helps law enforcement identify multiple victims advertised and sold from the same hotel room. Emily Kennedy, President & Co-Founder of Marinus Analytics

Traffic Jam Visual

Image from Marinus Analytics

We’ve had a lot of success working with law enforcement in the U.S. to help to recover victims of human trafficking. Now, we are expanding our work abroad and partnering with law enforcement overseas to help them gain insights into large organized crime groups. Emily Kennedy, President & Co-Founder of Marinus Analytics

Non-profit organizations such as the Anti-Human Trafficking Intelligence Initiative help to partner with law enforcement agencies and private sector companies to pool together resources in the fight against human trafficking.

We have many partners that collaborate with us to develop innovative ways in which we can us their software, tools, and resources in the fight against human trafficking. Many of the companies that we work with are practicing corporate responsibility around a number of issues, not only human trafficking. Our partnerships are mutually beneficial to the organizations we collaborate with as we help to introduce them to other organizations, financial institutions and law enforcement while receiving their assistance and resources in combating trafficking. Aaron Kahler, Founder and CEO of Anti-Human Trafficking Intelligence Initiative (ATII)

One of the apps that the Anti-Human Trafficking Intelligence Initiative developed is an app that can be used on the victim’s cell phones. Victims can scan QR codes that are put up in the bathrooms of hotels, and other highly suspicious public places. Once the data is received, law enforcement can follow up on the lead by requesting a subpoena immediately to obtain cell phone records to verify whether it is indeed criminal activity. Once that occurs, victims can be rescued immediately as opposed to waiting for days.

Private and Public Sector Cooperation Enables Technology

Money laundering is at the center of any crime organization. When profits from illegitimate businesses mix with profits from legitimate businesses, it’s difficult to untangle the web of financial transactions inside the organization. Forensic Accounting is often used to track the finances of crime organizations. In the last few years, law enforcement built tools to uncover patterns of irregular financial activities. However, public sector technology still relies on data reported by the private sector banking industry.

The problem with detecting human trafficking is that it’s not easy to identify what is a good transaction from a bad one. You can have an example of a business that’s booking hotel rooms frequently. That’s showing up on bank records. With AI and machine learning, you can bring in other information to associate that with information related to human traffickers. Alma Agnotti, Partner, Practice-Leader - Global Investigations and Compliance at Guidehouse

In the U.S., per the Bank Secrecy Act (BSA), each bank is required to send a Suspicious Activities Report (SAR) to government agencies as a part of enforcing money-laundering laws. The accuracy of this report becomes increasingly important when AI and machine learning are involved.

If your system or your bank is 95% wrong in your Suspicious Activities Report (SAR) from last year, by the way this is the standard right now, then when you bring in machine learning, you are going to very efficiently re-create all the mistakes that you made last year. Dr. Gary M. Shiffman, Founder of Giant Oak

In March 2019, Dr. Shiffman testified in front of the House Subcommittee on National Security, International Development, and Monetary Policy about the importance of data cooperation between private sector banks and public sector law enforcement agencies. The legislative intent for the suspicious activities report is to help law enforcement agencies to identify terrorism, money laundering, drug trafficking, and human trafficking. But, the current implementation prevents the banks from obtaining relevant data to build good models to generate the right data to send to law enforcement to impact investigations.

The banks spend a lot of money generating SARs everyday to send it to FinCEN. In the absence of knowing which of their SARs are highly valued or not valued, the banks do not send SARs that are valuable and can impact outcomes. There needs to be a three way communication loop established between banks, regulators (FinCEN) and law enforcement. Law enforcement can inform on what data they’d like to see and the banks can cooperate in sending that information through the regulators. Dr. Gary M. Shiffman, Founder of Giant Oak

Technological Cooperation Implies Responsibility

As AI and machine learning proliferate into corporate settings, there’s a real sense that the world is working closely together. A programmer in India may assist in a project located in the U.S..That project can be deployed in Europe where most of the user base are located. The underlying data that AI and machine learning learns from can come from anywhere in the world. The world’s problems such as human trafficking, money laundering, drug trafficking and terrorisms become problems in every country and can affect the activities in many industries regardless of the size of the company and the size of the marketplace. Responsibility still resides on the humans that are making judgments on when to use the technology and how to use the technology.

People who are in favor of technology and against technology are both a little bit wrong. By that, I mean that technology, AI and machine learning, at its core is pattern recognition. You need a good training set to identify the pattern that you want to find. You need clean data that you can run your algorithm through to identify the pattern. There could be problems in your training data. There could be problems in the data that you are running your algorithm against. You need a human in the loop to ensure that someone’s applying human reasoning, common sense, and judgement to the inputs and output. Dr. Gary M. Shiffman, Founder of Giant Oak

The human factor in the usage of technology not only impacts the outcome of human trafficking investigations but ultimately has a real impact on the GDP of specific countries. From government’s loss of tax revenue, to decreased sector competition and innovation, to loss of investment, to increase in uncertainty of market conditions, there are many reasons why GDP depends on a healthy economy with minimal criminal activities. When law enforcement and financial institutions look at human trafficking investigations as entrepreneurial business activities of criminal organizations, then it’s easy to realize the potential impact on the domestic economy as well as on the global economy. So, who is ultimately responsible for solving this problem of human trafficking? As machine learning and AI tells us, in the age of innovation, we have powerful technological tools to impact outcomes. But ultimately, it’s still all of us who are responsible for our collective problem of human trafficking.

Jun Wu is a Hybrid Journalist for Technology, AI, Data Science. She has a background in programming and statistics.

https://www.humantraffickingproject.com/ai-is-helping-us-combat-the-economic-problem-of-human-traffickingjun-wu/

#humantraffickinghelp #humantraffickingnews

1 note · View note