#'congrats!! you were the face of [redacted] good job!“

[kitaychan]

"Help us with a small interview"

[ashers-wife93]

Redacted fanfic based on a acting pov video I just watched. (Milo and Sweetheart)

(In this story,Angel,Babe, and Sweetheart are friends but you can't see colors until you see your soulmate, Sweetheart's pov)

God why can't work be over already. I was called for a mission, mission completed yet I'm still stuck here, bring interrogated by my coworkers. "Well for your information Jackson, I can't describe him to you because I.Can't.See.Color. remember?" Jackson, new recruit, short, feisty, annoying, and won't stop asking the same questions over and over again. "Sorry sneaks." Ah yes the title. Sneaks is a name I was given by my coworkers because I can choose whether I can be invisible or not. I'm a stealth. Finally I can get out of here. I have dinner with Angel and Babe in an hour. I rush to my car and get out of here, before my boss can give me more shit to do. I make it to Angel's house where Babe is already waiting. I walk up the door and into the house. "Hey you two." I say. "Hey. You look exhausted" Angel says. "Yeah long day at work." I plop into one of Angel's kitchen chairs. "So can any of you see color yet?" Babe asks. "I can"Angel chirps. "I met him at the mall today. He thought I was stalking him, he was kind of a grouch but the moment we locked eyes, I saw everything in color again." "That's sweet"babe says. "I can too. I got trapped in an elevator today and the guy I got trapped with ended up being my soulmate." "Congrats to both of you" I say. Now both of my friends can see color and I'm stuck in black and white. After dinner, I drive home, not wanting to interact with anyone for the next week. I pull up into the drive way and walk to my apartment. I close the door and fall asleep on the couch, to lazy to get into bed.

I wake up to the sound of my alarm going off. I wake up and get ready. I eat breakfast and get to work. I sit in the parking lot, putting on the best face I can and walking into the building. "Hey Jett, what on the agenda for today?" I ask. "Your job is to investigate a shade attack during the Energetic and Elemental Games last week. Be careful and good luck." Jett smiled at me. "Thanks Jett." I say as I start to investigate Department files. I look through the files and find one titled: "Shaw Security". They might know what happened last week. I look at more files associated with this security company and come across a name: Milo Greer. This might be Colm Greer's son. I leave and decide to investigate. I found Milo's address and went over there. I walked over to his landlord and told him I was there for a meeting. He gave me a key and I walked over to his apartment. I open the door and this cat starts meowing like crazy. "Oh. Hey little guy. You must be Milo's pet." I picked the cat up and held him in my arms. "What do you say we scare your owner when he gets home huh?" The cat meowed in response. I start looking around his apartment. Clean and tidy. Couldn't tell which colors were what cause I can't see color. Then I sat in his arm chair cat in my lap and waited for him to come home.

At about 8: 30, Milo's door opens. I turn the chair around me still holding the cat. "Welcome home Milo. I don't have time to waste so I'm going to ask you a few questions and you tell me what you know. " "Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my apartment?" Milo sneered. God he has an accent. Wait I can see color. Oh god This is going to be harder than I thought "Never mind that your dad is Colm Greer right. Listen I work for the Department." "That still doesn't explain what. The fuck. You're doing. In my. Apartment." I take a step closer. "Look I need help investigating an attack that was done at your security gig last week." Milo looked confused. "Attack? What attack?" "A shade got in and started feeding on people I was called to investigate." "Uh huh Show me the badge" he said with a sneer. "Hand it over." I toss him my badge. "Looks legit. What do you need me for? If you need answers go to my Alpha." "If I remember correctly, your alpha wasn't at the event. You and your 2 friends we're" I retorted. "Okay fine." Milo said defeated. "Yes I was there. I noticed that some of the bystanders looked a little drained but I thought that was because of the heat" I softened up. "Maybe you could help me take him down?" I asked "wouldn't be a problem" he responded. I gave him my number and left. Who would've thought short and feisty would end up being my soulmate. I smiled as I got in my car and drove off.

Thank you guys so much for reading. This was all I could come up with for today.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

A good walk spoiled (by greed).

June 7, 2023

ROBERT B. HUBBELL

JUN 7, 2023

          On a day of significant political news, it might seem strange to start with a discussion of the merger between the PGA Tour and Saudi-backed LIV Golf. But the development provides a deep and disturbing view of the seemingly irresistible corrupting power of money. Specifically, blood money from Saudi Arabia, a nation intent on “sports-washing” its reputation as a regime known for human rights abuses, unresolved responsibility in the 9/11 terrorist attacks on the US, and the recent assassination of Washington Post contributor Jamal Khashoggi.

          Rather than making you sit through a long explanation to hear my takeaway, here it is: In the near future, American advertisers will face a choice: Promote a sport that is owned by a nation with unresolved connections to the 9/11 terrorist attacks or walk away from professional golf in a show of support for the victims and survivors of 9/11 (and the family of journalist Jamal Khashoggi).

Spoiler alert: American corporations will not hesitate for a nanosecond to renew their golf sponsorships despite the blood money infusion from Saudi Arabia.

          For readers who do not care about golf, the synopsis is this: the PGA previously ruled the professional golf world. Saudi Arabia created a competing organization (LIV Golf) and convinced many premier PGA golfers to join LIV. Litigation ensued, bitter feelings boiled over, and today the competing entities agreed to merge into a new entity in which Saudi Arabia is the sole investor with first right of refusal on future investments in the newly created entity. Oh, and a representative of the Saudi government investment fund will serve as the first chairman of the board of directors of the newly created entity. In other words, Saudi Arabia just bought the game of professional golf worldwide.

          So, what’s the big deal? Why should we care about rich athletes getting richer?

          The “big deal” is that Saudi Arabia’s role in the 9/11 terrorist attacks continues to be shrouded in secrecy and redactions in official reports. Fifteen of the nineteen 9/11 hijackers were Saudi nationals, and all were members of al Qaeda. The 9/11 Commission found no evidence tying Saudi government officials directly to the hijackers, although Saudi Arabia was the primary source of funding for al Qaeda.

A subsequent FBI report casts doubt on the 9/11 Commission’s conclusion absolving Saudi Arabia. President Biden released the FBI report in 2021—but the report contained significant redactions. Family of 9/11 victims continue to pressure the US government to reveal everything it knows about Saudi Arabia’s connection to the 9/11 terrorist attacks.

          But there is less ambiguity regarding Saudi Arabia’s complicity in the gruesome assassination of Washington Post contributor Jamal Khashoggi. The CIA concluded that Saudi Arabia’s Prince Muhammed bin Salman likely ordered the killing of Khashoggi in 2017. When questioned about the CIA’s conclusion of MBS’s complicity, Trump responded in 2018 that Saudi Arabia was a “truly spectacular ally in terms of jobs and economic development.” Translation: “Murder? What murder? Saudi Arabia means big bucks for the Trump organization.” It can hardly be a coincidence that Saudi Arabia gave Jared Kushner a $2 billion investment in a fledgling investment fund only months after Trump's term ended.

          Trump praised Saudi Arabia’s hostile takeover of the PGA in similarly glowing terms on Tuesday:

A BIG, BEAUTIFUL, AND GLAMOUROUS DEAL FOR THE WORLD OF GOLF, CONGRATS TO ALL!!!

          Of course, Trump's support was inevitable—because the PGA pulled its tournament out of courses owned by Trump after his attempted coup, while the Saudi-backed LIV had no such qualms. See CNN (7/28/2022), LIV Golf: Controversial Saudi-backed golf tournament to begin Friday at Trump golf course. See the NYTimes from today, Through Ties to Saudis, Golf Deal Promises Benefits to Trump.

          The reaction of GOP Rep. Nancy Mace serves as a reliable guide to how American corporations will react to Saudi Arabia’s takeover of the PGA. Mace is the Chair of the Congressional Golf Caucus (reflect on that ludicrous fact for a moment!). Mace said the following:

Obviously Saudi money being involved ... you know, I’d have some concerns over that. But look at my district — we’ve got over 30 golf courses.

          For Rep. Nancy Mace, moral concerns over Saudi Arabia’s murderous regime amounted to a speed bump that didn’t slow her support for the deal for more than the time it took to utter two sentences. Expect the same from American corporations. I hope I am spectacularly wrong.

          Family members of 9/11 victims were stunned by the development. The chairman of the 9/11 victims fund said,  

The PGA and [Commissioner] Monahan appear to have become just more paid Saudi shills, taking billions of dollars to cleanse the Saudi reputation. [¶] [PGA Commissioner] Monahan talked last summer about knowing people who lost loved ones on 9/11, then wondered aloud on national television whether LIV golfers ever had to apologize for being a member of the PGA Tour. They do now — as does he. PGA Tour leaders should be ashamed of their hypocrisy and greed.

          And even if money is enough to cause the PGA and American businesses to ignore the victims of 9/11, Saudi Arabia is no friend to the US. It colludes with Russia to keep oil prices high—to support Russia’s war on Ukraine and fuel the GOP narrative that the US economy is in shambles. As Business Insider reported yesterday, Saudi's crown prince and Putin are teaming up to keep oil prices high in a geopolitical gambit likely to annoy the US. With allies like Saudi Arabia, who needs enemies?

          Someone once said, “Golf is a good walk spoiled.” If the LIV/PGA merger goes through, golf will be a game purchased for thirty pieces of silver and a constant reminder that American business is for sale at the right price—assassinations and support for terrorists notwithstanding.

          CNN’s ratings are buckling after its decision to televise a Trump rally under the guise of a “town hall” discussion. When the new Saudi Golf Association begins its tour in the US, let’s hope that enough Americans will turn their backs on the sport to cause a drop in sponsorships, declining interest in the sport, and the emergence of a new association not tainted by Saudi Arabia’s money.

[the-shipping-machine]

MTF Mr. Brass AU Part 2

After what seemed like hours, our helicopter reached a small village that was close to our target. Ironically, the village was also close to the site that Joe nuked. I wonder why the foundation only found him now.

They lived in a caravan on the hill at the far side of the village, next to a forest.

“Shall I send a dragonsnail to scan the area?” Money asked, pulling out his case full of these tiny creatures.

“Send the tracker,” I answered. “It’ll be easy for us to catch Mad, but Joe’s gonna be a bit more difficult. Send it after him.”

“Got it, cap!” Money said as he ordered a tiny grey dragonsnail to fly.

“It’ll send me a sign when it lands on Joe.” Money explained.

“Good.” I said. “Jeffrey, prepare your molasses-magic-thing. It’ll help us in case of a chase.”

“Already working on it, B!” Jeffrey giggled.

“Sweetie, I’ll need you to distract Mad.” I said.

“Why, because I’m a woman?” she asked.

“No, Sweetie. He’s gay and ace. And also, he’s YOUR BROTHER.” I sighed. “You should do it because you’re the one with the best relationship with him.”

“I was kidding, mate.” she said. “Fine.”

“Don’t do this again, please.” I said.

“I’ll wait in the helicopter and be in charge of the communication, right?” Soap asked.

“Correct,” I said. “You’ve gotten used to that job, aren’t you?”

He giggled.

“It landed successfully!” Money suddenly said. “I got their location now!”

“Okay, everyone.” I said. “It’s showtime.”

Jeffrey and I hid behind a bush and watched as Sweetie lured Mad outside of his trailer. Joe seemed suspicious of this, yet said nothing.

Neither of them seemed to notice the grey dragonsnail on Joe’s back.

“Now!” I told Sweetie on the communication device, and without waiting, she pushed Mad on the floor and tied him up.

Joe noticed us and seemed to understand what’s happening. 

“They work for the SCP!” Mad yelled. “Run!”

And so Joe did.

“Money, Soap, we got a chase,” I said. “ Sweetie, bring Mad to the helicopter. Jeffrey, come with me. Money, update us on his location.”

Sweetie carried the struggling tied man to the helicopter, and Jeffrey and I started to run after the other.

“He’s running to the forest!” Money said on the radio. 

“Of course he would,” I said. “Pretty expected.”

The forest was filled with eucalyptus trees, and seemed to be used as one of the village’s parks. There were roads, camping sites, benches and signs everywhere.

Joe was fast, but we could hear him breathing. He wouldn’t be able to run for so long without wasting energy. He’s a human, after all.

“2428 has been successfully brought to the helicopter, cap!” Sweetie said. “Although he’s a bit shocked.”

“Good job, girl!” I said.

“Brass, he’s running towards the parking ground number B3. Turn left on the camping site and keep running.” Money said.

“Jeffrey, is the molasses ready yet?” I asked as we followed Money’s instructions.

“It’s been ready for a few minutes, man!” Jeffrey answered, showing off some tricks on the run.

“When I tell you, use it as a barrier,” I told him.

We saw Joe. He mannaged to break a car’s window and got in. He’s got the engine running and...

“Now!” I yelled.

With one movement of his hand, Jeffrey delivered a wave of the slimy goo and turned it into a flying circle around the car. Joe wouldn’t be able to drive out of it.

As soon as he got out of the car, I charged at him and pressed him against it. We tied him up and brought him to the helicopter, where the rest of the team was waiting.

“Brass, what’s the mission status?” Dr. [REDACTED] asked on the radio.

“2428 and 1504 have been successfully captured,” I said. “We’re on our way back.”

“Good.” he answered.

“What the fuck, Brass?” Mad asked. “Were you all working for this bullshit?”

“Yup.” I answered.

“Since when?!” Mad asked.

“Three months after you escaped, there was a mass containment breach.” I began to tell. “The church of the broken god took part in this. Some of the misters took this opportunity to escape. We did the smart thing and helped to end this mess. The broken god is now terminated.”

“You terminated a fucking GOD?!” Joe asked.

“Yeah. It felt good.” I said. 

“Are any of the other misters still in there?” Mad asked. “Are they also in the MTF?”

“Well, Shapey, Chameleon, Forgetful and LD stayed,” I answered. “Neither of them is in the MTF, but Shapey and Chameleon are researchers now.”

“Wow, y’all really are morons.” Mad answered.

“Excuse me?” Soap asked.

“You guys rather be in a fucking prison instead of living a normal life.” Mad said.

“Mad, we’re SCPs,” I answered. “Neither of us would ever have a normal life, no matter how hard we try. We weren’t born to be normal.”

“Plus, you’re the one who fell into my trap. Not us.” Sweetie added.

The dragonsnail jumped off of Joe’s back and flew over to Money, who gave it a treat.

“What the fuck?” Joe yelled. “Is that how you guys found me?”

“Kinda?” Money said. “We knew about the village, just didn’t know where to look.”

“Are we going to be re-contained?” Mad asked.

“Unless you guys would like to join us, then yes.” I said.

Mad and Joe remained silent.

“Take your time to think about it, okay?” I suggested.

Shapey waited for us on the landing site, along with some security staff members. He wore a lab coat that somehow mannaged to fit onto his amorphic body shape, and had his famous poker face. 

“Were you worried about us, Shapey?” I asked as the guards took Joe and Mad to their cells.

“Prehaps.” Shapey said. “Even if I were, I wouldn’t admit it.”

“Chicken.” I laughed.

“You’ve done a good job today.” Shapey said. “Congrats on your first, actual mission, guys.”

“Thanks.” I said.

Jeffrey walked over to Shapey.

“Are there any news about the Miss’s whereabouts?” he asked.

“Since you’re unable to give us any details about her appearance and stuff, we’re currently stuck.” Shapey said. 

“Jeffrey, when you’re ready, I can gain access to your memories in order to help.” I suggested. 

“Yeah but... how can you guys figure out anything?” Jeffrey said. “Everything is black and white.”

“I’ll try my best to decode the memories,” Shapey said. “Whenever you’re ready, kiddo.”

“Okay, Dr. Shapey!” Jeffrey said and skipped over to the entrance.

“He’s a good man.” I said as I watched him. “I can’t imagine what it’ll do to him.”

“What are you talking about?” Mad asked.

“He doesn’t realize he’s been abandoned, Shapey.” I said. “I just... I know the feeling, but I don’t know how to help him.”

“I can see that you care for him, Brass.” Shapey said. “Right now, you can be there for him.”

“I know.” I said.

“Now you should get some rest, kiddo.” Shapey said. “You’ve worked hard today. Maybe get some coffee or something.”

“Someone should fix the machine, then.” I said.

Shapey rolled his eyes as I walked over to my room, taking off the uniform and went to bed.

That was one hell of a mission, eh?

---

First part

Next part- Coming soon

[carnalsociety-rpg]

HEY UPPER EAST SIDER, WELCOME TO CARNAL SOCIETY

Elia, you’ve been accepted as Devin Blum with Kat McNamara as your faceclaim. Congrats! Please read through our checklist and turn in your account within 24 hours.

                    THIS I KNOW, THE BEST IS YET TO COME.

OOC INFORMATION.

Name/Alias: Elia Preferred pronouns: She/her Age: 25 Timezone: EST Triggers: Emetophobia

IC INFORMATION.

Name: Devin Blum Age: 27 Gender: Cisfemale Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Bisexual Faceclaim: Katherine McNamara (Melissa Roxburgh 2nd choice) Occupation: Agent

Headcanons: i. Devin grew up in a small town in Georgia. Always trying to keep up with her four older brothers, she became something of a tomboy as a result. She can throw a football as well as a high school quarterback, but she learned far more than athletic skills — her drive to not only succeed, but excel in everything she does, can be at least partially credited to her brothers’ influence. That, and the fact that even though she was their blonde-haired big eyed kid sister, her brothers never let her have anything for free, and Devin doesn’t expect anybody else to, either. ii. Devin’s middle name is Ophelia, a name (and character, once she grew up enough to actually read Shakespeare’s play,) she’s always despised. It might seem like a silly secret to keep, but Devin pretends as though she has no middle name, and has never told it to anyone, nor has she written it on a form or piece of paperwork. iii. Devin is all about efficiency, including when it comes to speech. She isn’t the type to ramble on endlessly, or to share unnecessary details. Of course, what she considers unnecessary and what anybody else considers unnecessary might differ wildly, (with Devin’s version almost always falling on the scanter side of things,) but you can’t make someone un-know something, and Devin isn’t about to spend time trying. Nor is she the type to waste time on unnecessary syllables — most people she has any type or relationship with have either received a one-syllable chop to their name, or have accepted they’ll need to answer to “hun.” iv. Always a good student, Devin decided at an early age she’d attend college in a city up north like Chicago or New York. She made it happen, too, and studied business at NYU. Whip-smart and hardworking, she landed a job at a talent agency shortly after graduating, and hasn’t come up for air since. She’s never wanted to be the star, the big name in lights, but something about the entertainment industry held her interest since she was old enough to watch award shows and recognise magazines in the grocery aisles for what they were. There’s a kind of power in being the person behind the scenes, protecting, and making, the big names, and Devin loves not only the high-powered negotiations, but also getting to see the painfully ordinary sides of people worshipped for their talent (or beauty). As young as she is, Devin is still somewhat picky in who she takes on as a client — nobody she represents is just a pretty face. v. Devin hasn’t been back “home” to Georgia in years; New York is, and has been, her home ever since she first landed at LaGuardia. Though she does travel (especially to LA) for work, Devin’s network of connections means she never has to leave her Queens apartment (or beloved New York Mets) far behind.

Associations: Mirrored skyscrapers, blazing fires, coffee cups gone cold with lipsticked rims, driving fast with music blaring, vibrant splashes of colour, the constant buzzing of phone notifications. Secret:  [REDACTED]

Extras: Playlist.