#45 died in stampede

[roosterm3attrash]

101 ways to kill Barney Calhoun

I ended up making this list by going through multiple servers and people so here cuz I found it in my phone notes

Anyway the brilliant minds of the half-life fandom

1.) Waited pressure plate with tnt under it

2.) im going to leave mines under his mattress

3.) i’m setting a rake on his floor so he steps on it and whacks his face

4.) I'm giving him a bomb disguised as a cigar

5.) barney death 3: he ate what elvis presley ate….

6.) I would kill Barney Calhoun by slapping him so hard on the ass that it gives him cardiac arrest

7.) I drop him onto a pit of venomous snakes

8.) Im going to give Barney a beer but instead of beer it will be filled with deadly neurotoxin

9.) “now gordon, ive been keepin an eye out on this combine hideout for a while. they seem to walk in a certain pattern when crossing over to the entrance, which makes me think theyve buried mines all over the place. now, ive memorized the pattern, so im just gonna sneak on over, and you follow my lead, alright? dont worry, i know exactly where all the mines are.” and then he explodes

10.) that one episode of sponge bob where he eats the exploding pie and explodes

11.) set up tripwire then he falls into a tiger pit

12.) I type kill npc_barney into console

13.) slap the boobies off his chest so hard them fly around the world and hit the side of his head like water balloons

14.) i could marry him and slowly feed him mercury over a span for 3 years until he dies of mercury poisoning

15.) He tries to become a wwe wrestler but gets killed in a freak accident mid match

16.) I would kill him by making him a pizza but it’s covered in big chunks of lead but it’s hidden in the sauce and it’s a Chicago style pizza

17.) bring him to a highway and kiss him so hard he gets knocked onto the road and gets ran over

18.) Peeling him apart by the dna strand and eating it like spaghetti

19.) barney gets trampled by a stampede of horses

20.) giving him under the counter off brand viagra

21.) put him in a washing machine and turn it on

22.) shark attack

23.) pit of sharks

24.) barney gets criticized so badly he dies

25.) barney sits in an uncomfortable chair for too long

26.) He gets his arm caught in a bear trap w a beer used as a lure

27.) HE BECOMES THE CAT THAT TRAUMATIZED HIM. HE….YKNOW…..

28.) he gets stuck in a swimming pool like hes in the sims and dies from getting exhausted and drowning

29.) barney roasting marshmallows but his stick ignites into flames and he burns to death

30.) ATTACH SO MANY BALLOONS TO BARNEY HE FLOATS AWAY INTO THE SKY NEVER TO BE SEEN AGAIN

31.) barney gets rejected by gordon and he gets so sad his body shuts down

32.) I kiss him so tenderly on the lips that he melts into a puddle and dies

33.) i throw him in to a volcano so that he melt into a puddle and dies

34.) "I’ll turn him into a flea, a harmless, little flea, and then I’ll put that flea in a box, and then I’ll put that box inside of another box, and then I’ll mail that box to myself, and when it arrives…I’ll smash it with a hammer!"

35.) stick a bottle of beer into his throat, the whole bottle

36.) give Barney Calhoun a beer can full of poison

37.) hang a piano over the toilet and wait

38.) i think barney should have his spine ripped out through his mouth

39.) he goes to a bar and tries flirting with the bartender and the bartender takes out a shotgun and kills him on the spot

40.) punch him so hard in the penis that he shatters like a brittle glass

41.) bite him in half

42.) I'm grinding him in a giant shredder

43.) bro took a bath in hot mac 'n cheese

44.) i put him ina giant caldron full of water and i begin boiling him down to gelatin and broth

45.) barney accompanies the crew to the borealis and he steps over thin ice and gets dunked into the below zero water and freezes to death

46.) barney calhoun gets carried away by a tornado

47.) took barney on a vacation to Hawai’i and pushed him into a volcano

48.) He dies and he's never mentioned again and nobody cares

49.) died of tummy ache

50.) Stepped on by a strider

51.) shrinked until he disappeared completely

52.) blasted into the sun

53.) Stab him with 300 pencils made with real lead

54.) slip and falls and dies

55.) put him into a Minecraft furnace

56.) Barney ignores the wet floor sign and slips and cracks his head

57.) while swimming in the swimming pool he swims to fast and smashes his face against the pool's wall

58.) he gets a concussion and drowns

59.) i want to put him through a lunchmeat slicer

60.) He falls off a dumb huge cliff

61.) he lives his life to the fullest and at his deathbed at age 93, June 29th, 6:12 am he passes away

62.) he eats a burgie with too much grease and gets a heart attack

63.) testicular cancer

64.) He should get sucked into a fan while trying to fix it at Black Mesa and literally no one comes looking for him

65.) The Pita Bread Room

66.) slipped on a Banana peel

67.) ran over by a crap ton of shopping carts rolling down the hill

68.) barney overheats in a fursuit

69.) he has sex so bad that he dies

70.) Barney dies because i fucking kill him with a shovel 🖕

71.) barney eats the gas station sushi

72.) barney faints via twirling around and holding his hand in front of his forehead, and then slowly lying down with a flower in his hands to indicate death

73.) When they turn off the suppression fields he just blows up

74.) barney gets crushed by a giant boulder thats all i got son

75.) barney goes to the beach that makes you old

76.) His head spontaneously combusts and pops like corn

77.) erectile dysfunction

78.) we should also have him get carbon monoxide poisoning

79.) barney gets gaussian blurred into nothingness

80.) he eats 20 year old expired mcdonalds burger and contracts the worst case of food poisoning youve ever seen

81.) Have we done tying him to a train track like a damsel

82.) he dies in a glue trap

83.) barney develops lactose intolerance over the years of combine occupation and he drink milk and then dies from shitting hinself to death

84.) he should chocke on his favourite food

85.) barney gets lead poisoning from a 1990s garfield glass mug

86.) he chokes on plastic

87.) barney gets thrown throw a glass window from a 15 story building

88.) gordon gives barney a wedgie so bad that he splits in half and dies

89.) gordon and barney divorce and barney dies from heartbreak

90.) alyx and gordon have enough of barney’s snoring so they smother him in his sleep with a pillow

91.) he trips while walking with gordon and impales himself on gordons crowbar face

92.) if he were the size of an ant he'd be ok instead he blows up like a watermelon and his remains are fed to lamarr by a very delighted kleiner. he fucking hated barney

93.) dog roughhouses with barney and accidentally obliterates his spinal cord

94.) barney gets poisoned to death by his own chumtoad

95.) coats him in eggs and flour and fries him

96.) snatched by a hawk and eten alive

97.) barney gets to participate in a danganronpa killing game and gets executed

98.) barney opens the love-letter-for-you.txt.vbs file and it kills him

99.) elaborate rube goldberg machine to drop an anvil on barney

100.) barney dies in an Iron Maiden

101.) we should put barney under those old timey stone tablets meant to squish and torture people and make them talk

[mushroompollution]

Chapter 52: Bloody Rites (pt 1)

Previous Chapters: The Sablier Arc Masterpost (35-42) || 43 || 44 || 45 || 46 || 47 || 48 || 49 || 50 || 51

Read the manga: imgur || mangaread (ad warning / full chapter so spoiler warning) I promise 2-parters won't be the new norm, but I think the second half of this is too important to cut down that much. also this chapter is just stupid long, I'd have to combine pages to fit it in one imgur album anyway

Isla Yura is speechless as he watches Lottie and her Chain make short work of his two guards. But as she threatens to do the same to him if he doesn't take her to the Stone, it's quickly apparent that it's not fear that Yura is gripped with.

It's admiration. This man could not be more excited to have the big bad Baskervilles murdering his servants. Actually, its the highest honor. This is his own Christmas!

But unfortunately, he can't just hand the Stone over, he still needs it for his ceremony. And so, he readies himself to fight her with his legendary hand-to-hand skills.

Yeah. Yura proves to be no real threat, to the point it's kind of pathetic.

But Break is another story.

It's not too much unlike they way met back in Sablier. Remembering that interaction, Lottie asks what he meant back then, when he had asked her to be his friend.

It's simple, Break says. He and the Baskervilles seem to have the same goal, so why don't they team up?

Oh, but their partnership does hinge on one little detail. He knows about the Pandora guards murdered by the Baskervilles. But there's one of them still unaccounted for. Depending on the fate of Reim Lunettes, he may give up any plans of a peaceful solution, Break threatens.

Back in the other hall, Oz tells Leo to go ahead. Leo protests that it's too dangerous for him to be alone, but Oz makes a great point. If the Headhunter is really there, wouldn't Elliot be a more likely target than him? Besides, Leo wanted to apologize for their fight as soon as possible.

He admits to being a bit envious of Leo and Elliot's friendship, the respect they have for each other that allows them to speak their minds so feely to each other.

Leo thanks him and takes the traumatized maid as he races back towards the main ballroom. Oz watches them go, then turns back to the hall with a much more serious expression.

Whoever was lurking at the end of that hall is suddenly taken down as Alice pops out of Oz's shadow. As he tries to comprehend what's going on, he hears Sharon's voice in his head, speaking to him through her Chain, Equius. She explains that she heard the tense conversation and didn't want Oz to go alone.

Meanwhile, Alice pulls back the hood of the shady figure she's just tackled. And Oz is shocked to recognize them.

Back in the other hall, Break and Lottie are suddenly surrounded by two red robed figures wielding short swords. Except, they aren't any Baskervilles Lottie recognizes.

From his place on the ground, Isla Yura laughs.

Gilbert and Elliot race up to Sharon as all hell breaks loose in the ballroom. A red robed figure appears behind her as she tries to relay Oz's situation to them, and is summarily neutralized by one roundhouse kick from Gil.

Finally, he's not entirely useless.

But Sharon still has no time to explain, as she and Gilbert watch in horror as more people in those red robes begin to set fire to the billowing curtains. In the chaos, Vanessa and her valet frantically search for Elliot, who seemed to just disappear into the stampede.

Back in the other hall, those figures who had ambushed them are no match for Lottie and Break.

Doug's chain moves too quick to really see. But as he grabs Lottie and whisks her off to safety, her eyes meet Break's. They escape, and Break notices that Isla Yura had also managed to disappear some time during their brief encounter with the imposters.

Judging by their skill level, or lack thereof, the pair that had ambushed them lacked any real martial training.

So why were they dressed up as Baskervilles? Why did they attack them?

Break thinks about his missing friend. And then Sharon. He grinds his teeth and turns to go back to the ballroom, knowing his duty is at her side.

[denimbex1986]

'Andrew Scott remembers the exact feeling he had when he first read Andrew Haigh’s screenplay for All Of Us Strangers. “I was actually really upset reading this script. It wasn’t because it made me sad, it was that it made me feel raw. I saw a huge amount of tenderness in the script and I related to it so much.”

All Of Us Strangers — which premiered at Telluride in late August, and releases via Disney’s Searchlight Pictures in the US on December 22 and in the UK in January — stars Scott as Adam, a 40-something screenwriter living an isolated life in a London tower block. He meets a mysterious neighbour, Harry (Paul Mescal), at the same time that he visits his childhood home in the suburbs and, suspending reality, remeets his mother and father (Claire Foy and Jamie Bell) who died in a car accident when Adam was 11.

Haigh took the conceit of going back to meet one’s parents as an adult from the 1987 Japanese novel Strangers by Taichi Yamada, but toned down some of the book’s more traditional ghost story elements, relocated the setting to the UK and made the lead character gay, all of which made it much more personal to the filmmaker. The director of Weekend, Lean On Pete and 45 Years even returned to his childhood home near Croydon, south London to shoot the family scenes (he had not lived in the house for 40 years).

Scott says he did not talk to his own parents about the role but “certainly I drew on my own experience”. He also felt a close connection to Haigh’s background.

“I have never met Andrew’s parents and Andrew has never met mine, but because we were shooting in Andrew’s family home, sometimes I had this feeling, ‘Oh my god, he would have lost a tooth in that little bathroom, and now a crew is stampeding through here.’ It was an extraordinary thing for him to take us back to that childhood house.”

Born in Dublin and now living in London, Scott is best known for past roles including MI5 boss ‘C’ in Spectre, as a gay Welsh activist in Pride, antagonist Moriarty in Sherlock and the hot priest in Fleabag.

His Irish childhood did not exactly match Haigh’s near Croydon but they shared a lot in common. “My challenge was to make a marriage between his story and mine,” Scott explains. “We spoke an awful lot about our own experiences, and our own times of growing up in the early ’90s, so I could feel so much in relation to my own pain or joy. Sometimes I think what is really required of you [as an actor] is to show as much of yourself as possible, and that’s what I tried to do… and it was a real catharsis for me.”

A love story

While All Of Us Strangers does explore loneliness and grief, at its heart, Scott says, “It is a story about loving and being loved… Of course, this is a queer story at the centre of it, but everybody has a parent, whether they have a relationship with them or not, or you may have children or you may have a lover or you may understand the real feeling of being lonely.”

Scott’s journey as Adam is multi-­layered, starting with the physical — for instance, being a grown man in children’s pyjamas crawling into bed with his parents.

“The way a child might be physically with their parents is being smaller than them in almost every way.” Scott also mapped out Adam’s emotional journey — he is changed through a series of encounters with his parents — allowing him to open up in his burgeoning relationship with Harry.

The family scenes shot for two weeks with Bell and Foy. “We did that more or less chronologically [so it was] an intense time in that house,” Scott recalls.

Scott, Mescal, Foy and Bell were all nominated in the performance categories of the British Independent Film Awards (among 14 nods in total).

Scott enjoyed a strong working relationship with Mescal, and the pair have maintained their friendship since the shoot. “Paul is a really hard worker — he wants it to be right and he wants the tone of it to be right,” Scott says. “I love that the relationship is so tender between the two of them. Sometimes sex scenes between two male actors can veer towards the sexual and I think it is more radical to show the tenderness between these two people — not that these things have to be mutually exclusive.”

The pair worked with an intimacy co-ordinator for the sex scenes. “Sometimes those scenes that are postcoital have a gentleness that can feel more exposing than the ones that were purely physical,” he adds.

Scott, who has been openly gay for more than a decade, carefully considers the calls from some parts of the industry for more gay actors to be cast in gay roles. “I remember growing up and reading Empire magazine and thinking I would never get a chance to play leading roles in the cinema. And I am thrilled that has changed,” he says.

“As much as I feel like representation is important, so is transformation… I don’t love the idea of being cast for something purely for my own sexuality — you’re not just playing ‘gay’, you’re playing the attributes of the character. I don’t want a totalitarian regime — we have to look at each individual story we’re telling and what’s right for that.”

He has certainly had a few years of intense experiences — he read Haigh’s script in 2021 when he was in the midst of a long pandemic-­delayed Italian shoot playing Tom Ripley in Netflix’s new Patricia Highsmith series Ripley, created by Steven Zaillian. Then he shot All Of Us Strangers and soon followed it with his acclaimed one‑man Vanya in London’s West End.

The actor finds commonalities in Ripley, All Of Us Strangers and Vanya: “They definitely all explore themes of loneliness or solitude. That’s not something I chose by design, but this feels like a phase in my work… I don’t mind that, if you’re always looking towards the light. I think if our job is to reflect what it’s like to be a human being, and if you are a human being in a state of despair or loneliness or grief, you look for the light, you make a joke.”

Scott is moved to tears when talking about Strangers as being a personal and unique project (Screen International is the first publication to speak to him about the role after the SAG-­AFTRA strike lifted). He tries to put it in words: “One thing that I felt was that I didn’t want to ‘act’, I don’t want to be false. It is so wonderful to have this opportunity to tell the truth — I know some of the things that [Adam] is going through — with people who you trust. With Andrew and the actors, to create something that makes people feel seen or feel better, it feels magical.”'

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 3.5

1953 – Joseph Stalin, the longest serving leader of the Soviet Union, dies at his Volynskoe dacha in Moscow after suffering a cerebral hemorrhage four days earlier. 1960 – Indonesian President Sukarno dismissed the Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat (DPR), 1955 democratically elected parliament, and replaced with DPR-GR, the parliament of his own selected members. 1963 – American country music stars Patsy Cline, Hawkshaw Hawkins, Cowboy Copas and their pilot Randy Hughes are killed in a plane crash in Camden, Tennessee. 1963 – Aeroflot Flight 191 crashes while landing at Aşgabat International Airport, killing 12. 1965 – March Intifada: A Leftist uprising erupts in Bahrain against British colonial presence. 1966 – BOAC Flight 911, a Boeing 707 aircraft, breaks apart in mid-air due to clear-air turbulence and crashes into Mount Fuji, Japan, killing all 124 people on board. 1967 – Lake Central Airlines Flight 527 crashes near Marseilles, Ohio, killing 38. 1968 – Air France Flight 212 crashes into La Grande Soufrière, killing all 63 aboard. 1970 – The Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons goes into effect after ratification by 43 nations. 1973 – An Iberia McDonnell Douglas DC-9 collide in mid-air with a Spantax Convair 990 Coronado over Nantes, France, killing all 68 people abord the DC-9, including music manager Michael Jeffery. 1974 – Yom Kippur War: Israeli forces withdraw from the west bank of the Suez Canal. 1978 – The Landsat 3 is launched from Vandenberg Air Force Base in California. 1979 – Soviet probes Venera 11, Venera 12 and the German-American solar satellite Helios II all are hit by "off the scale" gamma rays leading to the discovery of soft gamma repeaters. 1981 – The ZX81, a pioneering British home computer, is launched by Sinclair Research and would go on to sell over 11⁄2 million units around the world. 1982 – Soviet probe Venera 14 lands on Venus. 1991 – Aeropostal Alas de Venezuela Flight 108 crashes in Venezuela, killing 45. 1993 – Palair Macedonian Airlines Flight 301 crashes at Skopje International Airport in Petrovec, North Macedonia, killing 83. 2001 – In Mina, Saudi Arabia, 35 pilgrims are killed in a stampede on the Jamaraat Bridge during the Hajj. 2002 – An earthquake in Mindanao, Philippines, kills 15 people and injures more than 100. 2003 – In Haifa, 17 Israeli civilians are killed in the Haifa bus 37 suicide bombing. 2011 – An Antonov An-148 crashes in Russia's Alexeyevsky District, Belgorod Oblast during a test flight, killing all seven aboard. 2012 – Tropical Storm Irina kills over 75 as it passes through Madagascar. 2012 – Two people are killed and six more are injured in a shooting at a hair Salon in Bucharest, Romania. 2018 – Syrian civil war: The Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) pause the Deir ez-Zor campaign due to the Turkish-led invasion of Afrin. 2021 – Pope Francis begins a historical visit to Iraq amidst the COVID-19 pandemic. 2021 – Twenty people are killed and 30 injured in a suicide car bombing in Mogadishu, Somalia. 2023 – The 2023 Estonian parliamentary election is held, with two centre-right liberal parties gaining an absolute majority for the first time. 2023 – A group of four prisoners escape from the Nouakchott Civil Prison, before being caught the next day.

[beardedmrbean]

A 14-year-old suspected gunman was arrested after two people were killed and at least four wounded during a shooting spree at a luxury shopping centre in the heart of Bangkok.

Hundreds of people fled the busy downtown mall into torrential rain and chaos after gunshots were heard, while videos shared on social media showed others taking cover in shops, restaurants and bathrooms as the shooter stalked the building.

Within an hour, the Metropolitan Investigation Bureau of the Royal Thai Police took a 14-year-old boy wearing a black T-shirt, thick-rimmed glasses and a cap adorned with the American flag into custody.

Photos released by the emergency services showed one officer collecting the handgun used, and another pinning down and handcuffing the teenager.

Torsak Sukvimol, Thailand’s police chief, said the boy went to school close to the Siam Paragon shopping centre. He had previously been receiving treatment for a mental health condition, but had recently stopped taking his medication. His motives remain unclear.

No British nationals involved

Mr Sukvimol added that the two people killed during the attack were Chinese and Burmese nationals. Four other people were injured, and several are in a critical condition.

The UK’s Foreign Office said it is not aware of any British nationals being involved.

“I would like to express my deepest condolences to the family of the deceased following the shooting inside Siam Paragon,” said Srettha Thavisin, Thailand’s prime minister. “I would like to give my moral support to the families of all who died and were injured.”

The day’s events have shaken the Thai capital. Upmarket Siam Paragon is one of Bangkok’s biggest and most popular shopping centres, drawing tourists and locals alike.

“We didn’t know what was happening, then staff from a shop asked us to go inside and said there was a shooter,” Xiong Ying, a 41-year-old Chinese tourist, told AFP. “Everyone was trying to find a place to hide. So many people were terrified, just like a scene in the zombie movies.”

“Everybody was screaming and running,” Gautam Vora, 45, an Indian national who works in finance in Bangkok, told AP. “There was a lot of chaos and that was almost like a stampede.”

“I don’t think [staff] were well prepared for this,” he added. “I think most of the staff inside the shopping mall were confused and they were running helter-skelter, too.”

Following the shooting, authorities temporarily closed the nearby Siam skytrain station, preventing commuters from leaving the stop during the rush hour.

Gun violence is not unusual in Thailand, where there are high rates of firearm ownership, although mass shootings are relatively rare.

But the latest killing comes as the country marks one year since one of its deadliest mass attacks. Last October, a former police officer killed 36 people, including 24 young children, in an hour-long rampage at a nursery in northern Thailand that devastated the kingdom.

It came after a former army officer went on a rampage in a shopping mall in the city Nakhon Ratchasima, murdering 29 people and injuring dozens more.

[vilaspatelvlogs]

Tanzania: पूर्व राष्ट्रपति John Magufuli के अंतिम दर्शन के दौरान मची भगदड़, 45 की मौत

Tanzania: पूर्व राष्ट्रपति John Magufuli के अंतिम दर्शन के दौरान मची भगदड़, 45 की मौत

तंजानिया (Tanzania) में दिवंगत राष्ट्रपति जॉन मागुफुली (John Magufuli) के पार्थिव शरीर के दर्शन के दौरान भगदड़ होने से 45 लोगों की मौत हो गयी. पुलिस ने मंगलवार को यह जानकारी दी. यह घटना पिछले सप्ताह हुयी थी. Source link

[whywishesarehorses]

Inside the Famous—and Deadly—Omak Stampede

This article was written by Allison Williams, published in the August 2017 issue of Seattle Met, and reformatted here for your enjoyment.

This one is text heavy and long, so it is hidden under a read more.

Thursday

Eighteen horses form an imperfect line on a hot August night, their 18 jockeys clad in jeans. Here on a sandy bluff in the small town of Omak, four hours east of Seattle and several worlds away, riders and spectators alike move with nervous energy, anxious for the race to start. One jockey wears a helmet topped with a pink mohawk, another with a GoPro camera. One horse, sponsored by a local marijuana dispensary, sports painted pot leaves on its rump. Wispy white eagle feathers hang from others, emblems of the Native American heritage the men share.

A summer carnival glows below, neon outlines of rides called the Orbiter and the Fireball, metal towers that came into town on tractor trailers. Farther into the Okanogan Highlands, a casino twinkles alone on Indian Reservation land. It’s August 11, 2016, and even an hour past sunset the air holds onto most of the heat from the 90-degree day.

A “whoooop!” erupts from the gathered crowd as the animals sidestep and bob their heads behind the chalk starting line. His race number bright across his chest, 18-year-old Scott Abrahamson eyes the sandy dirt in front of the line, groomed like a golf course sand trap. His long bubblegum-pink sleeves mean he’s easy to spot even in the shadows where floodlights don’t reach, and his helmet blinks with battery-operated toy devil horns. He’s surrounded by both champions—Loren Marchand with seven titles, Tyler Peasley with three—and nervous high schoolers in their first race.

At the crack of a gun, the horses charge. Their riders lean forward as hooves pound the sandy flat, at least for the first hundred feet. The crowd cheers as soon as the pistol sounds, cries and hoots blossoming into the dark.

Then 18 horses go off a cliff.

The riders shift in their saddles as their mounts fly down an incline steeper than a ski jump. The best jockeys, the veterans, barely lean back coming off the hill, reins clasped in the left hand and riding crops in the right. Others grasp a bar they’ve rigged on the back of their saddles they call the “oh shit handle.”

The spectators’ cries reach full pitch when the pack is halfway to the waterway at the base of the hill, a thick ribbon of black that flows left to right. The horses plunge into the inky Okanogan River en masse, hooves hitting the shallow bottom, and all but one charge across to the opposite bank. The stadium on the far side is lit up like a Friday-night football game, floodlights bright atop red, white, and blue bleachers, and Scott and his hot-pink sleeves emerge first in the dirt oval, just 45 seconds into the race. As they cross the finish line, Peasley is right on his tail.

Fifteen horses follow, minus the one that tumbled in the river. A crew attends to the downed horse from the deck of a small drift boat; while the stadium roars, a veterinarian surveys the animal and notes that it’s already gone, likely drowned.

Back atop the hill, Colville tribal elders watch through binoculars before one spots something in the sandy dirt, an eagle feather dislodged by the chaos. They circle the downed quill, addressing the spirit it represents, the eagle that travels in both worlds, before one of the elders lifts the feather to return it to its owner.

This is the World Famous Suicide Race.

There will be four races total during Omak Stampede, always the second weekend in August. Each race awards five points to the first-place finisher, four to the second, and so on; the overall winner clinches the King of the Hill title on Sunday, and $40,000 in prize money is distributed. It’s the highlight of this Central Washington town’s year, a tradition that draws thousands of spectators—and animal-rights protesters.

Omak straddles the border of the Colville Reservation, home of almost every racer, horse owner, and trainer. The contest is a rite of passage, they say, a proving ground for men—and even a few women—coming of age more than a century after actual horseback warfare. Beyond the turgid flow of the Okanogan River through town, the reservation sprawls over 1.4 million acres of highlands, brittle with brown grass in late summer. There the Native American communities are plagued by poverty and unemployment.

If the Suicide Race was a small-town Friday-night football game, teenaged Scott Abrahamson would be its star quarterback. He’s an ace student, focused and polite, with technical internships and honor rolls to his name, but this weekend he’s a jockey with a King of the Hill title to defend. All eyes are on him.

Friday

He gets sick before every big race. “Everything hits me and my body,” Scott says. “I can barely walk.” His cousin calls it good luck; Scotty puking means they’re going to do well.

In the hours before Friday’s race, the second of four, Scott’s prepping in the triangular Owners and Jockey’s paddock in the middle of the fairgrounds. By 5pm, Omak veterinarian Jai Tuttle holds court at one end of the dusty enclosure, near standing fans that muster a little manufactured breeze. As they wait to parade their horses for Doc Tuttle, owners angle water hoses over the animals’ backs.

Everyone older than Scott calls him Scotty. This year’s printed program, in the roster of winners dating back to 1935, calls him that. After he won in 2015, he became small-town famous, no longer just the good kid who excelled at basketball and wrestling. People holler, “Go Scotty” at him all weekend.

His father was famous too. That’s what happens when you win the Suicide Race; Leroy Abrahamson took the title in 2002, but was best known for his prowess in the Indian Relay, a more widespread style of racing where one jockey hops from horse to horse. Leroy, Scott has heard, would flit from one mount to the next with only a single foot brushing the ground.

Scott doesn’t remember his first time in a saddle but assumes it was before he could walk, though he largely gave it up in elementary school, when his parents split. His father was the horse guy; his mother was all about school. So he became a standout student in Coulee Dam, a reservation town in the shadow of the 50-story hydroelectric giant. When his father died in 2009, he was drawn back to horses.

“I’m sorta doing all this for him,” Scott says, hesitant. His mother wasn’t wild about the racing, but he didn’t falter at school, scoring an engineering internship with the Bureau of Reclamation. Slight and muscular, his five-foot-nine stature is too tall for a throughbred jockey but about average for this race. His hair is short and straight, spiking around his head like a halo, and he likes to hide his eyes behind sunglasses.

The summer he was 16, after his sophomore year of high school, Scott entered his first Suicide Race. Atop a small gelding named Kinky, he fell as they crested the top of the hill on the Thursday race, flipping over the horse’s shoulder. On Friday the pair wrecked in the water.

“I flipped over and everybody ran me over,” he says. “Everyone says it happens so fast, but when I was in it, it was like slow motion.” Finally, on Saturday, they made it through the entire race, galloping past the finish line in the stadium. Then Sunday the pair wrecked again.

A new horse was in order. His trainer, George Marchand, is a giant within the Suicide Race world and holder of three titles. He’d lost his own father at 14 and rode against Leroy Abrahamson 15 years ago, so he guided Scott, this time to a nighttime ride on a quarter horse–thoroughbred mix named Eagle Boy. The butterscotch-colored gelding was only about five years younger than the rider.

“It was pitch black and dusty,” remembers Scott. The hills of the reservation are dotted with brush and ponderosa pine, but he could make out little from his saddle. They were on top of a hill, he knew that, and that George had taken off.

He gave Eagle Boy his head as they sped over the uneven terrain. “We were jumping trees and dodging trees,” recalls Scott, but they moved as a unit. “I was like dang—he trusts me.” Matching horse to rider is alchemy.

In 2015, in his second year racing and only 17 years old, Scott on Eagle Boy tied for first overall with six-time victor Loren Marchand, George’s nephew. With a wide grin stretched across his face, the rising high school senior played rock-paper-scissors with his cochamp for a King of the Hill prize bridle.

The name World Famous Suicide Race might be a bit of hyperbole, but the race is nothing if not infamous. It emerged in scrappy Omak where a Great Depression population boom—all the way to 2,500 souls—launched an annual rodeo in 1933. As publicity chairman, furniture store owner Claire Pentz proposed a dramatic steeplechase to draw spectators, inspired by mountain races across the reservation at Keller, where riders charged a dry channel in the Sanpoil River. He knew how to sell it: He gave his 1935 creation a catchy name.

The World Famous Suicide Race ran every summer, the marquee event at the four-day Omak Stampede rodeo. Dynasties were born when the inaugural race’s third-place finisher, Alex Dick, won regularly through 1965. There have been seven Marchand riders over the years, six Abrahamsons, nearly a dozen named Pakootas. The unofficial motto, one that appears on winners’ belt buckles, is “Wimps Need Not Apply.”

The 210-foot hill, most say, is a 62-degree slope. Or it’s 54.7 degrees, as measured by a race official in 1993. Others say it’s more like 30. Regardless, it’s terrifying. From the top, the hill feels as steep as a hard ski run; a black diamond, but not a double black. Scrambling up on foot, you might use your hands.

The stampede and race remain intertwined, but in 1999 the Colville Tribes boycotted to protest a change to their camping space on the fairgrounds. The Stampede lost attendance and revenue, and the following year a deal was struck: The tribes got more control over the race organization, and the encampment got its park space.

Family ties bind many of the owners, trainers, and jockeys, and while a few aren’t Native American at all, they’re the exception. This is the biggest sporting event in the region, the Super Bowl of north-central Washington. “This is the only time we get to play cowboys and Indians,” jokes one organizer, Ernie Williams.

Doc Tuttle is fairly new to the race gig, but between her ease with fidgety horses and no-nonsense demeanor, the veterinarian exudes authority. One by one she clears the horses for Friday’s race, directing owners to walk each thousand-pound animal in a figure eight as her eyes stay trained on forelegs and haunches, scrutinizing for swollen tendons or joints.

No one can pretend the Suicide Race isn’t controversial. As early as 1939, the protests started; Humane Society president Glen McLeod succeeded in canceling a mountain race in nearby Hunters, then traveled to Omak and Keller hoping to do the same. “Why, even the riders call it a ‘suicide race,’ ” McLeod told The Seattle Daily Times before a similar trip in 1941.

Animal rights groups started keeping a tally of dead horses in 1983, with one count now at 22. “The reality is that the race is viewed as part of the Omak Stampede rodeo, and rodeos are protected under state law,” says Seattle Humane Society spokesman Dan Paul, but points out that rapid shifts in public sentiment swiftly made SeaWorld orca shows and circus elephant acts extinct.

People for Ethical Treatment of Animals has run letter-writing campaigns. In 1993, the Northwest’s PAWS, or Progressive Animal Welfare Society, tried a more robust tactic, filing a lawsuit that alleged organizers harm horses for profit, but a Superior Court judge threw out the case. In 1996, a PAWS member sued the Okanogan County Sheriff’s Office and the rodeo for roughing him up when he videotaped a horse being euthanized; the suit settled for $64,500.

For the organizers, the response is simple: The race is merely an extension of their horse-infused culture. Every rider points out that they ride similar hills during wild-horse roundups and cattle work.

Horses have to pass three checks before they’re allowed entry into the race: the vet examination, a swim test, and what’s called a hill test, where horses must round the top of Suicide Hill without hesitation.

Tuttle isn’t from the reservation; she isn’t originally from Omak. But even as an outsider, the one who has to put horses down if they’re hurt, she doesn’t think it’s inhumane.

“These guys use horses that love it,” she says; the horses are bred to it and run steep hills regularly on the remote corners of the reservation. She rarely has to disqualify a horse because owners who spot lameness usually scratch. “It does hold a real special place in the Native culture. It does.” And that horse Thursday night that likely drowned? She considers it. “He was doing what he loved and he had a quick and honorable death.”

Friday night’s race is classic and clean; no bad wrecks. As always, the riders reach the starting line by crossing the river on the Highway 97 bridge, closed to traffic. Hooves clomp on the asphalt as the parade passes a road sign that reads, “Tribal Code Laws Apply.” There are no rules to apply in the Suicide Race once the gun is fired; riders can whip each other, pull each other’s reins. No helmets required. No wimps.

The results echo the previous night: Scott Abrahamson and Eagle Boy come in first, Tyler Peasley on Spade in second. When Scott wins, he raises his right hand above his head, palm out, fingers outstretched. His father’s gesture.

Scott was only four when Leroy won the Suicide Race. “Everyone said he was one of the greats,” he says. “It’s kinda hard to fill his shoes.” Instead he fills his horns. He wears Leroy’s blinking red devil headpiece, the kind of bauble most 18-year-olds would don at a Halloween party.

Scott’s idols were the riders who won in the late 2000s, including the 30-year-old three-time champion who came in second to him during this weekend’s first two races. As a kid he’d run down hills playing at Suicide Race, imaginary whip flying, yelling, “I’m Tyler Peasley!” After his 2015 win, Scott noticed something: “The kids run around saying they’re me.”

It’s after 10pm when the racehorses have completed their cooldown laps and have been loaded into trailers for the ride home. Scott accompanies George Marchand to Omak Lake, 15 miles out of town, to let Eagle Boy soak before bed.

Saturday

Saturday night’s Suicide Race is the biggest. The 7,700-seat arena is packed, and lines form at every fun house and stomach-destroying ride in the carnival outside. Booths hawk curly fries, cotton candy, and foot-longs, though the longest lines are reliably at a taco truck.

But that’s not the whole Omak Stampede. On the east side of the arena, a mirror festival, maybe even larger: the Indian Encampment. Rows of teepees surround a round pavilion for dancing and drum performances, with RVs and tents beyond that. Spectators bring their own camp chairs to supplement the few bleachers. Booths sell jewelry, T-shirts, and dream catchers, and while some of the food is the same—nothing is as universal as curly fries—more signs are handwritten, and many vend Indian tacos and huckleberry lemonade.

Before the rodeo begins, the arena’s industrial speakers blast pop country songs over every acre. The festivities begin with a series of anthems and processions, recognizing the neighboring nations of Canada and the Colville Tribes. During the ride-in, dozens of rodeo queens from around the West shoot into the center oval on horseback, one by one, decked in every shade of sparkle.

The announcer introduces each event, then banters with the rodeo clown when things get slow or a bull rider needs a moment to limp off the dirt. The Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association produces the classic rodeo events, ones with more white riders than Native: bull riding, steer wrestling, team roping, barrel racing. Specialty acts bridge the competitive sports: trick riders and one blonde woman who does a kind of partner dance with an unbridled palomino horse to the blaring sounds of a country song called “Free.” It ends with the horse placing its blond head in her lap.

The Suicide Race is the final blockbuster event. Spectators wade up to their knees into the Okanogan River just upstream of the race crossing, bare feet on slimy rocks. Signs still note that video recording is prohibited, but they’re roundly ignored in the age of cell phones.

Despite the shocking name, the only rider death since anyone’s kept close records was one who drowned on his way to the starting line—though there are plenty of close calls. In 2002, the year Leroy Abrahamson took home the title, racer Naomie Peasley took a tumble so bad she fractured her skull. She recovered, but not before flatlining twice in the medic helicopter.

In its anti–Suicide Race materials, PAWS airs a common criticism of the race: its authenticity. “Organizers currently contend that the Suicide Race has roots in Native American tradition but, in fact, an Anglo conceived the race as a publicity stunt,” reads its statement. Detractors hang on that detail, its origins with furniture salesman Claire Pentz.

To riders and trainers, though, Pentz is irrelevant, and they point to the deep roots of horse culture. For Scott, the point of the race is clear: “Showing that a young man is becoming a warrior, becoming a man.”

The race, the encampment—it’s the tribes’ biggest invitation into their world. “There’s more that people don’t see behind these walls, about Indian life...sweat lodges, medicine,” adds Aaron Carden, a retired racer who now teaches Native language on the reservation. Of the borders around that world, he says, “It’s not our fence to keep people out. It’s the fence white men built to keep us out of the area they took.”

The race wasn’t the only thing “created” by a white man; the very invention of a Colville Tribes unit is recent. Long before that, before statehood, before Manifest Destiny, before Lewis and Clark white-privileged their way across the American West, the Okanogan Highlands tribes lived nomadic lives, picking berries and drawing salmon from the massive Columbia River. And racing horses.

First came the incorporation of Washington Territory, then a series of executive orders begun by president Ulysses S. Grant that roped several tribes into three million acres between the Methow Valley and the Columbia River. Others were elbowed into the reservation, linking bands that once stretched from the dusty plains of Washington to the mountains of British Columbia. One chief invited a famous Indian leader, Chief Joseph, and his Nez Perce followers in 1885. With his band, the Confederated Tribes of the Colville Reservation—a patchwork assembly that had no single language or traditional commonality—reached their current 12-tribe size.

Over 125 years the tribes faced what so many other American Indians did—children forced into boarding schools, languages squashed. The federal government forced a cheap buyback of 1.5 million acres, lands still lamented as the lost “North Half.” The Grand Coulee Dam, erected in 1942, blocked spawning salmon with its 550-foot concrete walls; Colville tribal members mourned the loss of Kettle Falls, a historic fishing spot, with a Ceremony of Tears before it was submerged by the dam’s backup.

In the 1960s, the tribes toyed with termination, dissolving the reservation altogether and splitting the lands among its 5,000 members. Reservations had been terminated by the government before, but the Colvilles were the only ones to dare seriously consider it themselves, an unprecedented move of self-governance. Congressional hearings were held but the measure never passed, so the Colville Reservation endured.

The Suicide Race is a separate world from suicide itself, a public health crisis for the Colvilles. Whether spurred by pervasive poverty—reservation unemployment topped 50 percent in 2010—or rampant substance abuse, the suicide rate ballooned to 20 times the national average in 2006. “After that we were in a panic on what we need to do and could do,” says tribal staffer Olivia Wynecoop. Tribal leadership declared a state of emergency, and Wynecoop helped secure grants for education and designating “natural helpers” to be on call for suicide emergencies.

Scott positions Eagle Boy at the western end of the starting line for the Saturday-night race. This isn’t like the starting gate at the Kentucky Derby; horses pace and turn, and the antsy palomino next to him does a sideways prance before the starter pistol goes off. Scott is angry, though later he says he can’t remember why. Trash talk and psych-outs are regular along the starting line, older jockeys trying to ruffle the young ones still gathering their courage.

But three years and one win into the Suicide Race, Scott can ignore the chatter. He and Eagle Boy are still until the gun sounds, then fast to the crest of the hill. Aaron Carden still remembers the feeling 25 years after his first win: “You’re actually flying in the sky. Nobody can take that away from you.”

There’s a commotion, a cloud of dust to Scott’s left, but he’s well in front of the pack as they hit the water. Two strides into the dark water, Eagle Boy stumbles, flinging Scott into the river. His blinking red devil horns disappear under the white churn created by horses on either side. They’re both okay but don’t log a finish.

What Scott couldn’t see was what happened on the top of the hill, to the very first rider off the break. Tyler Peasley, whom Scott idolized as a kid, and who’d placed at Scott’s heels the past two nights, darted off the top of the hill like a raptor after its prey. Peasley’s a little taller than Scott, broader shouldered, and he rides to win. His mount, Spade, got so much air he tucked his back legs underneath him and simply sailed for the first 30 feet of the downward slope.

They were serene in that moment, flying, until Spade’s hooves finally hit the tilted ground again; Peasley pitched over Spade’s front left shoulder before the horse executed a tight somersault. The jockey disappeared under the hooves of the horses behind him and the crowd made a collective, guttural gasp. Peasley’s body didn’t come to a stop until he reached the bottom of the hill.

Sunday

The final race is also the only daytime race of the weekend; for the first time since the trials and runoff races held before the stampede, they’ll be rushing the hill in full daylight.

The mood in the O&J paddock is subdued, but word is going around that Peasley is stable at a nearby hospital. News will later spread that his injuries included a broken pelvis, hip, and ribs, and the racing community fundraises to support his care and gas money for his family to visit him.

Remarkably, Tyler’s horse, Spade, is unhurt from the tumble, ready to race again. His owner lights a bundle of sage and says a few words over the horse before a new jockey takes the saddle.

For the final time in 2016, Scott follows the parade to the top of Suicide Hill. His jeans have a gaping hole in the knee—real wear from hard riding, not a fashion statement—and his wraparound sunglasses are ’80s big. No devil horns for the daytime race, but, as ever, his name is the one most shouted by the crowds: “Come on Scotty,” over and over.

With 10 points already earned, Scott only needs to place to secure the title. Owner and trainer Marchand tells him not to go all out, and when the gun fires, he doesn’t. He holds back his whip, lets Eagle Boy run the race without extra urging. It’s the smart move, the calculated move, no doubt informed by the disastrous night before. But Scott comes to regret holding back.

Not because it doesn’t work. Scott and Eagle Boy place second, netting four more points and easily clinching his first solo all-around title. But for Scott, the kind of driven athlete who hates to give a single inch, playing it safe feels wrong. Now with two titles to his name, only three years in, he says he’ll ride “until I get broken down and can’t do it no more.”

Three days later, Scott will depart his Coulee Dam home and drive five hours to start his freshman year at Washington State University. As an engineering student he will pull a 3.8 GPA his first semester and a 3.9 the second; he’s lined up two years of scholarships so far and hopes he’ll be able to extend to the full undergrad four.

Scott won’t brag about his Suicide win at college, but he’ll drive home every fall weekend for Indian Relay races, another sport that mixes horsemanship with a touch of anarchy. Around the reservation, he doesn’t have to brag about being King of the Hill; everyone already knows. “He’s the Steph Curry of the Suicide Race,” one tribal member says. “Loren and Tyler are the Lebrons.”

The second weekend of August 2017 is already on everyone’s calendar. Scott will be back on Eagle Boy, who he now half owns with George Marchand—a 49 percent share. He now has a streak to defend. By early June, high winter snows have melted to fill the Okanogan River, and ecologists are warning of water flows two or three times normal. Scott guesses that, with the river this high, it’ll be too deep for the horses to simply wade across during the Suicide Race; they’ll have to swim for the first time since, he believes, 2002. The year his father won it all.

But on Sunday night in August 2016, after the King of the Hill awards and the pictures, he’s just a high school kid again. He wanders the Indian Encampment with friends, waits in line for fry bread.

Under the pavilion, dancers spin and step, decked in elaborate feathered headdresses and beaded robes. Some have numbers pinned to their costumes, like marathon runners, to compete. In a drum tent, the songs are a steady thrum of chants and cries, indecipherable to the visitors who stand awkwardly outside the rows of seated tribal members who are at once both audience and participant.

Picture this: a quiet mountain lake, bordered by rocky hills dotted with ponderosa pine. In daytime Omak Lake is seven miles of brilliant turquoise, but now, at night, it’s a black mirror. Two men drive a horse trailer to its shore, unloading an unsaddled Eagle Boy.

It’s one of George Marchand’s secrets to success; the lake minerals soothe the bumps and scrapes along the horse’s legs. In the midst of the annual Perseid meteor shower, the uncloudy Okanogan skies are perfect for spotting streaks of celestial light, but the men don’t look up as they dissect the day’s race.

Scott holds Eagle Boy’s halter from a dock while the horse wades into the water, breaking the lake’s calm. The water hasn’t yet cooled from baking under another 90-plus degree day, and the hills that round the lake keep the night air still. They’ve survived another madcap contest together, earned another W. They’re back on the reservation, back home. In the silence the only sound is the lapping of the lake water against a horse.

[chromosome23hq]

august 11th, 1997, 6:05 am, silverhouse apartments

One fine morning, with a mug of coffee in one hand and a watering can in the other, Billie Foster was not prepared for the crack of a gun to kick her into a vision. A crowd. A masked figure. Mayor Peter Webber, now with a hole in his forehead. So many lives altered in one fell swoop that the crowd overwhelmed her. A small stampede had Billie stumbling back into her apartment. Coffee in her monstera and water soaking her feet. She didn't get a chance to see anymore details, only a masked figure and an untimely death.

It’s not something Billie can just ignore, especially when it comes to the death of a public figure, much less the mayor. She needed to tell someone, an officer of some sort who can protect the mayor from anything. It’s when she remembers them, the Omegas. It’s a part of their job description to protect the weak and innocent, which includes the mayor. A heavy and deep sigh leaves between her lips. This is not how she wanted to start her morning. 

august 14th, 1997, 11:45 am, somewhere in the city

This has to be the most boring protection assignment in the world. For the past few days, all Yazmín Navarro Montes’ (also known as Siren) done is escort Mayor Peter Weber everywhere to defend him against an assassination threat. He still has his bodyguards, but extra cushion with Yazmín here, as Prism described it. Of course, it’s unspoken that this also works as great publicity. She had wanted nothing to do with it, which meant Prism had to pick her for this. Her luck always worked that way. Today, she’s starting to wonder if this threat was real at all, or a phony stunt to benefit the mayor and the Omegas. There’s been no suspicious figures lingering around his office or home, no attempts, and no threats sent to him.��

Still, Yazmín doesn’t slack on her job. She always has an eye out, ready to push the mayor out of the way or stop a would-be killer. They’re outside for a few minutes when something starts to bother her. There’s water everywhere she can sense, then suddenly there’s a spike. It’s nowhere near winter, but something freezing just entered the vicinity. No one stands out in the crowd, until—

Already running behind schedule after sleeping in late, Ethan Sato pays no heed to his surroundings as he cuts past a gentleman on his journey to class. He’s cursing himself internally, vowing for the umpteenth time to start going to bed earlier, when his internal monologue is drowned out by a wave of terror. Ethan stops in his tracks, his heartbeat thundering, panic squeezing down on his chest. Breathe, he needs to breathe. He takes in one, shuddering breath, knowing that this—whatever this is—isn’t his, then turns around and he sees—

“Oh, my God.” He claps his hand over his mouth. Behind Ethan is the Mayor, haloed by his own blood as he lays on the footpath. It takes Ethan a solid minute to process what he sees, what he feels, before he scrambles backwards, yelling, “Help! Somebody help!”

As soon as his co-worker had walked in, Jaewon Oh had scampered off for his break. An entire hour away from inane questions was exactly what he needed. Deciding to take a stroll to his favorite nearby coffee shop was done automatically, he ate there almost everyday. Unfortunately for him, his hour was coming to an end and so he made his way back with an extra sandwich in his hand. 

He was contemplating whether or not he could get away with leaving the store early when he saw it. Or, rather, them. A person in a mask appeared seemingly out of nowhere and Jaewon, curious, watched as they walked ahead of him with purpose. something about this didn’t feel right, he wasn’t sure exactly what was going on but there was a sinking feeling in his gut. 

Should he do something? No, yes? He was just about to shake off the feeling, not wanting to get involved in business that wasn’t his own, when he saw a man ahead of him go down. It took him a moment to register that it was the mayor and said mayor had just been shot. The masked figure was running and Jaewon watched, frozen to his spot, as they did so. On the sidewalk ahead of him the mayor lay dying, the particles of energy around him turning a meek gray as the life left him. 

Jaewon took several steps back and pressed himself against a storefront, brows furrowed. it couldn’t have been a normal bullet, a gun going off was loud. this had been too quiet. suspicion rose in him, humans could quiet a gun, sure, but not to that extent. could … could it have been a mutant? Jaewon looked back at the scene that was now filled with people, all as terrified as they were shocked, and wondered. It certainly seemed like a possibility. shit, he’d just witnessed the mayor getting shot, the mayor being killed. Soon enough police sirens would echo down the street and detectives would go looking for bystanders. Not wanting to be questioned, he quickly walked in the opposite direction and stewed in his own theories.

Sitting on the stairs of a building that had been ‘under construction’ for five years now (he’d been keeping track of time—the crew seemed to have abandoned it), David Castillo withdrew his flask and took a swig, eyeing the passersby—trying to find who best to focus on. Woman with the dog thinking about how the groomers screwed her poodle’s nail polish up completely? (he didn’t agree, they looked marvelous)—she walked by too fast. Man with the shirt that read ���D.A.R.E - to keep kids off drugs’ and was already thinking about that sweet weed he would score later? Also too fast. 

That was the only problem with a staircase in the middle of an ‘under construction’ type of place!

Voices swirling around, from those thinking about their affairs to those thinking about their loyal spouses, he shook his head viciously. 

And then a strong voice emerged. 

Strong emotion.

Strong passion.

Strong thought.

‘Got ‘em.’

Followed by screams—real ones.

And a silence. Even amongst the screams... a silence.

It’s too late. 

There’s barely any noise between the mayor standing in front of Yazmin, and dropping to the ground. Blood is everywhere. Some of it’s even on her suit, her hands. She had bent down to hold the wound without thinking, before realizing it’s all too late. 

There’s people running away in the crowd, and that’s how she knows the shooter isn’t far ahead. She’s running before the bodyguards do, head going through anyway she could to slow them down. Every option can lead to civilian injuries or worse. Shit! Yaz speeds up, water rising from her side pouch and striking out toward the assailant’s ankle as they round the corner. It misses by an inch. 

As she enters the alley, she sends a dozen sharp edged droplets at the wall with a yell for them to stop. But no one’s there. The only evidence that remains is a spray painted symbol.

august 17th, 1997, 5:34 pm, ramer cemetery 

Peter Webber is found dead on sight. Upon inspection, they’re unable to find a bullet but water is found. Because of Yazmín’s ability and past criminal record, the suspicion falls onto her. Banks and schools are closed early that day, and remain that way until the funeral. National news channels cover it nearly twenty-four seven, wondering how the mayor of one of the most prominent cities in America was shot in broad daylight and by who. All channels in New York cut into their current programming to broadcast the funeral, from the funeral home to the drive to the cemetery. Crowds line the streets during the procession to show their love for the beloved mayor, as well as grieve his loss and the loss it is to the city. His children and wife thank those for being there with them through this difficult time. The vice mayor, who was sworn in days before, tells the city they’ll get through this together and follow the vision Mayor Peter Webber had.

august 18th, 1997, 9:30 am, new york city hall

This isn’t the first time that Han-Byul Song (also known as Prism) stands surrounded by cameras, microphones, and journalists waiting for what he has to say. But he can say that it’s the first time dealing with them like this. Individuals who once looked at him as if he was like them, now they see him as something else. It doesn’t sit right with him, none of this sits right with him. However, he’s a professional and never the type to let someone see him when he’s at his lowest. With a straightened back and squared shoulders, Han-Byul begins his statement. 

“Ladies and gentlemen of the city, my name is Prism and as you all know, I’m the current leader of the Omegas. We are tasked with protecting the lives of the innocent, both mutants and non-mutants. Recently, we were given the mission to watch over and protect Mayor Peter Webber, sending one of our own to act as one of his bodyguards.” His eyes fall on Yazmín, the young mutant standing beside him with a cold stare and a rigid body. “Despite our best efforts to protect the mayor, we—” Failed. The words fall from his tongue but it doesn’t feel like he’s the one saying it. He can see the questions that are ready to leap out of their mouths, the hunger in their eyes, beasts. They were all beasts. “However, this doesn’t mean that our mission ends here. We’re now undergoing an investigation to look for and capture the person behind this. Once we find this individual, we’ll bring justice to all of you but also Mayor Webber.” 

There are questions, lots of them, and he answers, some of them. There isn’t enough or maybe that’s what he tries to tell himself as Yazmín takes his place to read over her apology. He’s listening but also not, he’s mainly just watching her and the crowd. Even though she was there acting as a bodyguard, she’s a suspect. Just because of her ability, just because she’s a mutant, just because they needed a scapegoat. 

OOC INFORMATION:

Mayor Peter Webber died on August 14th, 1997 and his funeral was held on the 17th. Various radio talk shows and news articles report on his death. Your muse can react however they want to this! 

The masked killer is Daichi Kato (played by Admin Kashia). No muse is aware of him killing the mayor, outside of Magneto. Yazmín is under the suspicion of partaking. 

This marks the true beginning of The Brotherhood showing themselves to everyone, which also means they’re recruiting people in. Your muse has the decision to join them but be aware of the true purpose of The Brotherhood! The spots are unlimited. 

If you play a Xavier student or staff member, things will be tense as Charles plans on what to do next.

And that’s the way the pussy crumbles.

[b2rpg-history]

v3.6.0

2021.05.12

リリース

Released

[ 日本語 ]

新機能

「えもの」ダンジョンが追加されました。

毎週構成が変更される高難度ダンジョンです。

「でんどういり」すると、追加報酬が獲得可能です。

同じシンジケートのメンバーと共有する事ができます。各プレイヤーは「なかまの えもの」を1つまで保持できます。

改善

設定画面に「がめんの あかる��」項目を追加しました。

設定画面に「ボスBGM」 項目を追加しました。

タウンメニューに「ほかのゲーム」ボタンを追加しました。

冒険開始前に確認ダイアログが表示されるようになりました。

一部スキルのアイコンを専用のものに差し替えました。

「ミス」「レジスト」「必中」時に、その理由がログ表記されるようになりました。

一部の敵撃破時サウンドを変更しました。

アイテムショップで購入確認時にアイコンor購入アイテム名をタッチすると詳細説明が表示されるようになりました。

一時効果の「延長不可」表記を追加。(本来の効果ターンの2倍以上に延長はできません)

「ささやき」機能の一覧表示形式を修正しました。

「ダメージぞうか」に効果量表記を追加しました。

調整

ウィークリーダンジョンの仕組みを再編し、週ごとにクリアフラグがリセットされないようになりました。

戦闘時、使用できるスキルがない状態でもスキル使用後処理(毒ダメージを受けるなど)が発生するようになりました。

スキル使用前処理で既に死亡していた場合、スキル効果が発動しなくなりました。

一部スキルから得られる「いりょく+n%」効果を、「きょうか+n%」が得られる効果に差し替えました。

一部しょくぎょうの性能を調整しました。

フェアリー： 装備品のバリア+2→シールド+50に変更、けいかい→スカウトに変更

ライカンスロープ： 「わきたつ ち」で得られる「けものの ちょうこう」が、+1/25ターン→+2/10ターンに変更

ざしきわらし： 装備品のシールドブースト→最大HP/Lv+45に変更

おんみょうじ： 装備品のバリア+2→シールド+50、ピンチぼうぎょ→スカウト、はんしゃ+15→いりょく+10％に変更

きゅうけつき： 装備品のバリア+2→しぜんちゆ+2％、しのびあし→タフネスに変更

とうくつしゃ： 装備品のざんぞう+1→HP+50に変更

修正

一部能力の重ねがけ効果の説明文が表示されない不具合の修正。

のろい「アムドゥスキアス」の効果中に消耗品を使ってもスキル消失が発生しない不具合の修正。

のろい「ラウム」の効果が機能していない不具合の修正。

「かんさつ」 重ねがけ効果による「いりょく+25％」が発動しない不具合の修正。

「スタンピード」所持時、敵の最大HPがこちらのHPを上回っていると、攻撃時に敵のHPがこちらのHPと同じ値になってしまう不具合の修正。

「ほうふく」の効果に「はんしゃ+n%」の効果が反映されていない不具合の修正。

「かんごく」モンスターの能力付与表示(*)が一部モンスターに表示されない事がある不具合の修正。

テレポートを使って2部屋先一番左部屋を選んだ時、「げん��」の効果が発動しない不具合の修正。

旅人のイベントで消耗品が対象となったとき、現在ストック量が正常に表示されなくなる不具合の修正。

ラボで「かいぞうする」時、表記された消費後しのかけらが正常に表示されない不具合の修正。

「しぜんちゆ」などの効果が戦闘開始の最初のターンに発動しない不具合の修正。

捕獲して伝説の武具がドロップしたとき、「きょだいな からだ」のデメリット効果が武器以外のスロットに対しても適用されてしまう事がある不具合の修正。

「ほしの かなた」を持っている時、ボス部屋にたどり着けなくなる事がある不具合の修正。

HPブースト重ねがけ効果のHP+n%が適用されない不具合の修正。

一部スキルが攻撃スキル判定されない不具合の修正。

一部ケースでゲームがクラッシュ/フリーズする不具合の修正。

一部テキストの修正。

[ English ]

New Features

The "Hunt" dungeon has been added.

This is a high difficulty dungeon that changes its structure every week.

You can get additional rewards by "Hall of fame" in these dungeons.

It can be shared with members of the same syndicate. Each player can hold up to one "Shared Hunt".

Improvements

Added "Screen Brightness” to the Configure screen .

Added "Boss BGM” to the Configure screen .

Added "Other Games" button to the town menu.

A confirmation dialog is now displayed before starting an adventure.

Some skill icons have been replaced with special ones.

The reason for a "miss," "resist," or "Surehit" will now be displayed in the log.

Changed the sound when some enemies are defeated.

When confirming a purchase in the item store, touching the icon or the name of the purchased item will now display a detailed description.

Added "cannot be extended" notation to temporary effects. (Cannot be extended to more than double the original effect turn.)

Fixed the list display format of the "Whisper" function.

Added effect amount notation to "Increased  Damage".

Adjustments

The weekly dungeon system has been reorganized so that the clear flag is no longer reset each week.

Post-skill processing (e.g. receiving poison damage) will now occur even when there are no skills available for use.

Skill effects will no longer be triggered if the character has already died during pre-skill processing.

The "Power +n%" effect from some skills has been replaced with an effect that provides "Strengthen +n%".

The performance of some jobs has been adjusted.

Fairy: Changed equipment from Barrier +2 to Shield +50, changed from Alert to Scout.

Lycanthrope: Boiling Blood now grant +2/10 turns (from +1/25 turns).

Child Spirit: Changed equipment shield boost changed to Max HP/Lv+45

Onmyoji: Changed equipment barrier +2 -> shield +50, Armor in Crisis -> Scout, Reflect +15 -> Power +10%

Vampire: Changed equipment barrier +2 -> Autoheal +2%, Stealth to toughness

Grave Robber: Changed equipment Afterimage +1 -> HP +50

Fix

Fixed a bug where the description of the stacking effect of some abilities was not displayed.

Fixed a bug in which using consumables while under the effect of Amduschias' Curse would not cause the skill to disappear.

Fixed an issue where the effects of Raum were not functioning properly.

Fixed an issue where the "+25% HP" effect would not work when using "Observation".

Fixed an issue where the enemy's HP would be the same as yours when attacking if the enemy's maximum HP was greater than yours when you possessed “Stampede”.

Fixed an issue where the effect of "Retaliation" did not apply the effect of "Reflect +n%".

Fixed an issue where some monsters would not display the ability granting display(*) for "Jail" monsters.

Fixed a bug that prevented the effect of "Hallucination" from activating when using teleport to select the leftmost room two rooms away.

Fixed a bug in which the current stock amount was not displayed correctly when consumables were the target of a traveler's event.

Fixed a bug in the labs where the post-consumption fragments of death would not be displayed correctly.

Fixed an issue where effects such as "Autoheal" would not trigger on the first turn of battle.

Fixed an issue where the demerit effect of "Huge body" would sometimes be applied to slots other than weapons when legendary armor was dropped from capture.

Fixed a bug that sometimes prevented players from reaching the boss room when they were holding the "Beyond stars".

Fixed an issue where HP+n% was not being applied to the HP Boost stacking effect.

Fixed an issue where some skills were not recognized as attack skills.

Fixed a bug that caused the game to crash/freeze in some cases.

Fixed some text.

[ramrodd]

45. The Triumphal Entry (Mark 11:1-11)

COMMENTARY:

I'm following your commentary on the Gospel of John Mark. My premise is that Cornelius composed the Gospel of Mark as a follow-up intelligence assessment of the events surrounding the resurrection of Jesus. This narrative was prepared for the person on the Palestine desk in the Praetorian Guard, "the Italian Cohort" after Tiberius has died and just before Caligula commits suicide, which is to say, the autograph of the Gospel of Mark arrived in Rome just as Claudius ascends to the throne of the Republic. Claudius introduces Christianity into Britain that ultimately arrives at the Milvian Bridge fully endowed with the fusion of Christian/Druid military community. Everybody in the Legions knew about Jesus before Tiberius received Pilate's initial report of the Resurrection, which is probably captured complete from the oral tradition surrounding Peter and the Apostles separate from Paul's extended revelation and meditation . John Mark was not at the Triumphal Entry on Palm Sunday. He was in Bethany with Martha and Mary of Bethany involved in the mourning for Lazarus, John Mark is 15 years on and he has had a boyhood crush on Jesus since the Passover just before his Bar Mitzvah just before the Feast of Tabernacles. John Mark is the Rich Young Ruler who is anxious to enlist in Team Jesus, but he isn't old enough and Jesus makes him get permission from his parents. Around Hanukkah. John Mark provides a useful bench mark in the common narrative  and the 1st Century zeitgeist  The narratives of the Gospel of Mark and the Gospel of John are just about to converge the second time in the combined narratives at chapter 11. The tow narratives are bound by the Holy Spirit by the weeping in John 11: 35 and the weeping in Mark 15:72.  This is a "doubling" described in Genesis 41:32. KJV.  

Jesus raises Lazarus on Palm Sunday immediately after surveying the space of the Gentiles Gate of the Temple, 35 acres. John Mark was not at the cleansing of the Temple: Just Team Jesu. Peter told him that Jesus had a length of heavy rope He employed to stampede the crowd in the market place, like the  stampede in Korea on Hollowee this year. We don't know what the Apostles were doing while Jesus was creating a riot like January 6, but Jesus really didn't need their help: He could use the Spirt of God to push people around and walk on water and whatever.

John Mark is the Beloved Disciple and not John the Apostle or John the Revelator, who probably is John the Apostle. John the Revelator had a similar experience as Mohammed  (and Moses) in receiving his series of visions It is a singularly unpleasant experience, being the presence of The One. God is just too powerful for living flesh to resist. God learned this in the Book of Job and realizes that God cannot dial it back. Which is why God sent Jesus and left us with the Holy Spirit,  

And, of course, The Satan, who is the basis of the human condition. He is the "Total Depravity" of Calvinism and exists, universally, in our personal core of rot. That core of rot is the essence of Ayn Rand's "Virtue of Selfishness".

The Gospel of Matthew is a polemic in response to Galatians and a polemic in support of Peter's Judaizing. The Gospel of Luke is commissioned by Theophilus and includes the amicus brief Luke was preparing for Paul's defense when he was remanded to Rome by Felix. Theophilus has a job like George Smiley in MI6 in the Praetorian Guard He is also the leader of the clandestine Roman Christian fellowship in the Roman legions. In particular, he is the nexus of the God Fearers like Cornelius in the ranks of the centurions spread horizontally throughout the legions. They are creatures of the secular rule of law and the innovation that separated the real military doctrine of King David's kingdom and the true military doctrine of Rome and Clausewitz. Clausewitz begins with Cornelius and the Praetorian Guard in his portrait of warfare as a metaphysical necessary instrument of a republican state. American Christian Just War Doctrine likewise begins with Cornelius and runs, straight through George Washington and the role of Commander-in-Chief. ' The Gospel of Mark is 1st Century Palestine from the perspective of the Army War College. The Gospel of John is John Mark's memoirs of Jesus as the star player on a touring baseball team from the perspective of the bat boy. John Mark provides the horseradish missing from the Roman sensibilities and traditions. Cornelius probably never attended a Seder. He just knew that it involved bread and wine and the review of the core values and behaviors of the servant-leader as an instrument of divine authority and the Liberation Gospel of Resurrection.

But John Mark was not at the Triumphal Entry.

[truetellsnigeria1]

Eight Persons Dead In Stampede At Lagos State Church

Eight Persons Dead In Stampede At Lagos State Church

Many worshippers also sustained severe injuries in the stampede, Daily Trust reports. No fewer than eight persons including a 45-year-old woman and her five-year-old daughter died on Thursday in a stampede that occurred during a prayer service organised by the Comfort Life Mission International church in the Ikotun area of Lagos. Many worshippers also sustained severe injuries in the stampede,…

[fandom-scribe]

Wonderbat Week: Day 4 - Holiday

Title: What The Kids Want

Word Count: 2,102

Author’s Note: So so sorry this is late! I just kind of went overboard for with this and I didn’t feel like writing yesterday. Not desire to write and a large word count does not go well together so I just finished this (now I got to go write today’s prompt plus yesterday and today’s prompts for Dickkory Week. Yay :( ). Anyway, in my first entry I added in a mention Donna and Cassie because I didn’t want to erase them. However I have no knowledge of them so they are absent in this fic. Also my first time writing Jason sooo… Idk, it’s really important to me that Bruce’s kids have a role in Wonderbat’s relationship.

@fyeahwonderbat

—

Gotham was not a pretty city. The gothic buildings gave off a dark aura and the rank trash on its grimy streets gave the stale air a permanent smell. And yet, despite the sky high crime rates and bitter atmosphere, the city almost looked inviting under the mask of freshly fallen snow — especially when one was standing outside of their ancestral manor, sharing a cup of tea with a close friend as one’s kids played and got along.

Bruce Wayne took a deep breath, taking in the crisp winter air. A hot cup of tea warmed his palms but it almost didn’t compare to the comforting heat radiating from the woman next to him. In front of him was his boys. What had started as gentle teasing from Dick had turned into a full blown snow war featuring Dick and Tim vs Jason and Damian. Yeah, the pairings were odd but Bruce couldn’t care less: his kids were having fun together and that was all that mattered.

“This doesn’t happen often, does it?” Diana asked as she sipped her tea, drawing bruce’s attention away from his boys. A harsh wind blew and Bruce squeezed his mug harder. It had almost killed Alfred to put their drinks in big mugs instead of proper tea cups but it was far too cold to drink tea in little spurts.

“What doesn’t?”

“Them getting along? Usually Tim and Damian are going at it and Dick is either trying to break it up or caught in the middle. And I hardly see Jason anymore.”

“Yeah…” A dark feeling stirred in Bruce’s chest, nearly stamping out the joy the sight before him brought. “It’s rare to see these moments. It’s hard to get the kids to get along and a fight to get Jason to willing drop by. But these moments makes it more than worth it.”

“I bet they do. Watching them is like watching my sisters in Themyscira. No matter how hard we fight each other, we know the other would have our back in battle. Same with your boys, right?”

“Same with my boys. They love each other, even if only Dick will admit it.” Bruce looked back towards his boys and frowned. “And they’re plotting something.”

Dick, Damian, Tim, and Jason stood huddled in the middle of the yard, snowball fight forgotten. Occasionally a pair of blue eyes would dart towards Bruce and Diana before returning to the whispered conversation between them. Bruce narrowed his eyes and strained his ears but he couldn’t hear anything.

“What’s going on over there?” he eventually called after accepting that eavesdropping was impossible from this distance. The boys jumped apart with shining eyes and sneaky smiles, an almost believable picture of innocence.

“Nothing!” Dick replied as he strolled towards the pair on the porch. His brothers followed. “We was just going over a case that’s been nagging me. Perhaps you can help?” Bruce raised an eyebrow at his youngest.

“I thought you said no work on Christmas?” Pink highlighted Dick’s cheeks and he briefly bit his lip. Bruce nearly shook his head: he had spent weeks teaching Dick to control such reactions.

“I know, I know: I’m a hypocrite. But I just can’t focus on having fun with you guys with this case on my mind. Can you please help me?” It wasn’t common for Dick to beg for help. Ever since Robin became Nightwing the young man had been adamant about independence, so it was a big red flag that was was begging for help now. But with Diana right there, Bruce found himself not wanting to make a scene.

“Sure, Dick,” the man said, voice flooded with suspicion and resignation.

“Great! I’m gonna grab some hot chocolate and we’ll meet in your study.” With that Dick raced into the manor, a large grin stretched across his face.

“I can also use a refill,” Diana hummed, shaking her empty mug. “Meet you there?”

“No!” Tim  shouted. The two adults looked at him, causing the teen to flush a dark red. “Actually, I - um - was hoping to ask Diana a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Later, Tim,” Bruce said with a tone that allowed no arguments.

“Yeah! Diana can’t answer your fangirl questions: she’ll be too busy sparing with me and Damian in the Batcave. Right Diana?” Jason asked with hopeful eyes.

“I’ve always wanted to conquer the Amazon in a sword fight,” Damian added with a shrug of the shoulders. Jason scoffed.

“In your dream, short stack. She’ll wipe the floor with you!”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose as Jason and Damian began to squabble and exhaled through his nose. Then he looked at the woman next to him. “Diana, I’m sorry to ask but—”

“It’s no problem. But I must warn you: Damian might be a little grumpy after I defeat him in battle.” Something in Bruce’s chest burned as Diana flashed him a smile before the Amazon was dragged off by his 2nd oldest and youngest sons.  It wasn’t a bad burn; more like the burn of a cup of tea or a fireplace on the coldest day of the year. It almost brought a smile to his face but he quickly stomped that down when he saw Tim still standing there.

“Er, I’m just gonna… go inside…” Tim muttered awkwardly before sidestepping Bruce and disappearing inside. Bruce sighed and followed his second youngest.

—

By the time Bruce made it to his study, Dick was comfortable seated on his desk with a mug of hot chocolate in hands and stacks of papers spread onto the desk’s remaining surface. Dick gestured him over eagerly. Bruce was barely sat down before Dick started to explain the case to him.

5 minutes later and it was clear to Bruce that this was a waste of time. The case was an easy one with plenty of evidence as to who the perp was and why they did it. There was no way Dick hadn’t figured it out already. But Dick was determined to drag Bruce into it and no matter how many times the older man interrupted and tried to figure out Dick’s real motives, the younger just kept soldiering on and ignoring him. By the time 30 minutes had passed Bruce was completely tuning his son out, more interested in the way Dick’s eyes kept flickering to the watch on his wrist.

“Now, I was thinking —” Dick started around the 45 minute mark but he was cut off as his watch began to beep. Dick let out a breath and quickly jumped off the desk, breathing out a quiet “finally” that Bruce barely managed to catch. Dick began to collect the papers.

“Did you figure it out?” Bruce asked as he watched Dick clean up quickly. He was leaning in his seat, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

“Hm? Oh! No, I didn’t but it’s Christmas and I refuse to work on this any longer! C’mon, let’s go find the others.” Bruce barely had time to process Dick’s excuse before his son grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out the room.

“Woah - slow down!” Bruce hissed but Dick ignored him, instead pulling him through the hallways even faster as he muttered a chant of “c’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” below his breath. “Dick, where are we going?”

“To find the others - ah ha!” Dick stopped in his tracks before quickly stepping around Bruce so he was behind the man and pushing him forward. “Stay there!”

“Why?”

“Just stand there!”

Bruce rolled his eyes and exhaled harshly. He had learned not to play his kids’ games a long time ago so why was he indulging Dick now? Before Bruce could move, though, the sound of a mini stampede rumbled through the hallway. The rest of his kids were coming.

Bruce stood there and looked ahead, watching as Jason and Tim pulled Diana towards him and Dick, Damian right on their heels. He barely had time to take in the sight - let alone chastise them for their behaviour - before his two middle children sling-shotted Diana forward, right into Bruce’s arms.

“Diana!” Bruce gasped in shock as the woman collided with him. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry—”

“I’m fine. The boys were in quite a hurry to bring me up here. Is everything alright?”

“As far as I know but my sons are acting suspicious and that’s never a good thing.” Bruce shot a glare at all four of his sons. They only smiled in return, Damian’s smile a bit more hesitant and begrudging than the rest. Bruce opened his mouth to demand answers but was quickly cut off as Diana shuffled in his arms. A hot flush flooded Bruce’s face and he quickly let the Amazon go. He let go so quickly that he nearly toppled her balance again.

“S-sorry,” Bruce stuttered, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. The heat in his face increased: Batman did not stutter!

“It’s okay,” Diana replied, a faint pink blush decorating her own cheeks. A few awkward beats passed before Jason broke it with a deep groan.

“This is taking too long! Look up already!” Dick and Tim emphasized his words by pointing up towards the ceiling.

As one, Diana and Bruce tilted their heads upwards and looked at the ceiling 25 feet above them.

Oh God, thought Bruce as dread and embarrassment filled him. How did they get mistletoe all the way up there?

Bruce’s heart began to pound and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The dream/embarrassment mixture only intensified as he heard a small “oh,” slip from Diana’s mouth. Bruce kept his eyes up as he began to stutter, too embarrassed to look at his friend.

“Di-Diana, I’m s-so sorry! I don’t - why would they - oh my gosh!” Bruce’s head fell forward into his palms, his fingers pulling at his hair. He should’ve know his kids would pull something like this: they’ve been trying to push him and Diana together for months now! And inviting Diana over during mistletoe season? Bruce mind as well gotten onto his knees and begged for his kids to do this.

Suddenly, Diana began to laugh.

“S-sorry,” the Amazon snorted between giggles. “Your face right now is just -” Diana cut herself off as she doubled over in laughter. Around them the boys began to laugh too. Was Diana in on it? Did they all team up against him?

How come that idea didn’t upset him as much as it should’ve?

Finally Diana straightened with a sniff as her laughter died out. She licked her lips and, with big blue eyes glinting, the Amazon stepped closer to Bruce and threw her arms around his neck.

“D?” Bruce muttered, questioningly. His own arms moved of their own volition and wrapped around Diana’s waist.

“Your boys put so much effort in this. Mind as well give them what they want.”

“Yes! Kiss her!” Dick yelled from the sidelines, practically buzzing. The others quickly shushed him.

Bruce couldn’t help but noticed the way Damian stood close to Dick, slightly behind his older brother as if the shield himself from the scene before him. The last time he had checked, Damian still held hopes of Talia and him reconciling and the three of them becoming a proper family. But here was help, scheming to get him and Diana to kiss? Was the boy truly okay with this?

As if reading his mind, Damian made eye contact with his father and nodded his consent, latching onto Dick’s sweater as he did so. The young man quickly threw an arm around his little brother and pulled him close.

“Are you okay with this?” Diana whispered. “I’ll understand if your not.” Bruce closed his eyes and thought. Diana was willing to kiss him. His sons wanted them to kiss. And him — Bruce thought harder — he wasn’t against the idea at all.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I’m more than okay with this.”

Diana’s blinding smile was the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes and their lips met. Inside his chest something burst and something else clicked. Bruce found himself deepening the kiss, a low groan coming from deep in his throat. He could feel Diana’s smile against his lips, the heat of her body pressed against his, her fingers in his hair. It felt good. It felt right.

The world around them melted away as Bruce and Diana kissed. And then they kissed again. And again. Lost in the woman in his arms, Bruce almost didn’t hear the cheer and applause coming from his sons.

Almost.

[hummingzone]

Israel inquiry into deadly festival stampede hears first witness By Reuters

Israel inquiry into deadly festival stampede hears first witness By Reuters

2/2 © Reuters. FILE PHOTO: Ultra-Orthodox Jewish men react as they take part in a funeral for Rabbi Elazar Goldberg after he died during Lag B’Omer commemorations, in Jerusalem April 30, 2021. REUTERS/Ronen Zvulun/File Photo 2/2 JERUSALEM (Reuters) – A state inquiry into a stampede in April at a Jewish pilgrimage site that killed 45 people, among them U.S. and Canadian citizens, began hearing…