#Bugs Moran

[l-ultimo-squalo]

The St. Valentine's Day Massacre (1967) dir. Roger Corman

[scholarofgloom]

[hometownhistorychicago]

S-M-C Cartage

Site of St. Valentine's Day Massacre

The S-M-C Cartage Company warehouse at 2122 North Clark St. in Chicago was the site of the infamous St. Valentine's Day Massacre. On February 14, 1929, seven men who worked for mob leader Bugs Moran were killed inside the warehouse in a hit presumedly ordered by Al Capone, who was never convicted for the crime.

[pilgrim1975]

'Spike' O'Donnell, first victim of the legendary 'Chicago Typewriter.'

It is September 25, 1925. On the corner of Sixty-Third and Western, one of the city’s most notorious gangsters is chatting casually with a local police officer. This is not unusual, cops and robbers often know each other professionally and/or personally. What is unusual is the car heading toward him. It arrives fast, screeches to a halt and the door opens. “Hello, Spike!” The words sound…

[robkost]

95 years ago ... February 14, 1929

The St. Valentine's Day Massacre

[13leaguestories]

It's been twenty-three years since the isolated Terran planets found themselves visited by extraterrestrials and joined a much livelier galaxy. While many have seen the boon, just as many have seen nothing but grief and heartache. You are one of those people. Your greeting into this world is one marred by blood and death, and little has changed since that faithful day. If you weren't bowing the knee to your trarkran masters, then you were to the notorious criminal organization that tortured you into submission. But for the first time in over a decade, a fortuitous kind of freedom finds itself just inches away from your grasp, ready to be claimed. The question is, what will you do once you have it, and what will come of those who would see you lose it once again?

Genre: Sci-Fi | Fantasy | Adventure

Rating: Mature for dark themes, language, sexual content

Create your unique character by choosing sex, pronouns, appearance, orientation,and different attractiveness levels.

Specific traits that will change how you react to others. As well as traits that will change how specific characters see you.

Choose between 6 romances: two females, two males, and two non-binary characters.

Four different classes, along with an assortment of armor and weapons, each with its own benefits.

And many other decisions for a unique, branching experience.

Determine for yourself if you will you go down the path that leads to your own redemption and growth or stay the course?

Relive your past and how it not only led you here but how it will impact your future.

*Click the link attached to "romances" to read more about the six romances available.

Public Demo encapsulates the first three chapters.

There is no set date on the full upload of this story. At the moment the book is set to have two books. A cost has not yet been determined.

Quick Note: Similar to Throne of Ashes, this character you play, Moran, has some personalities and characteristics that are already predetermined. Let it be known, you do not trust easily and have learned to put yourself first. This, of course with redemption, can shift, but this is not automatic and is on purpose.

Any bugs can be sent to the email below or sent to Tumblr. Check the link here for some common issues that may be found such as the game not allowing you to save or a specific save error is appearing.

Public Demo | World Anvil

[fairy-writes]

Hello! For the event, what do you think about Albert (Moriarty the Patriot) and the 9th action prompt? 👀

9) Showing up to surprise their lover when they’re in a long-distance relationship

ONE GOOD SURPRISE

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): Albert James Moriarty x Gender Neutral!Reader

Prompt: 9) Showing up to surprise their lover when they’re in a long-distance relationship (Action Prompt #9)

Notes: The mentioned war in this is fictional. I don’t know exactly when MTP occurs, so I’m making this up.

__________________________________________________________________________

It was safe to say you were miserable.

William could tell. 

Fred could tell. 

Hell, even Moran could tell. 

The only person who couldn’t tell was the only one who wasn’t there. 

Of course, you had letters. You exchanged them as frequently as the mail system would allow. Still, you didn't get many with Albert overseas managing soldiers in the East. You kept said letters in a box by your bedside, reading them by candlelight when missing your husband got particularly bad. 

Seven months, three weeks, and seventeen days since he had been gone with no end in sight. 

You sigh for the umpteenth time that day, and Moran throws down his cards in frustration.

“If you’re not gonna play, then don’t play! I don’t want to play with you while you’re mopey and depressed!” He snaps, and you glare in his direction. He flinches at the frosty look and holds up his hands with a “geez, sorry.” 

Eventually, you leave Moran alone, and he bugs Fred into playing a round of poker with him and Jack. 

William finds you out in the gardens of the Moriarty estate. 

He sits beside you without a word as you read through Albert’s latest letter. It had been delivered earlier that week. It contained the usual: whatever updates he could give you, responses to your letters, how much he missed and loved you, and asked the occasional odd question when he detailed what he had been doing since his last letter. 

“I’m being insufferable, aren’t I?” You ask your younger brother-in-law, who simply hums as he watches a light breeze sway the flowers Fred worked so hard for. 

“I don’t believe you’re being insufferable. A little tiresome to deal with, maybe, but everyone understands why so they don’t mind.” He says, and you look up from the letter,

“Except for Moran. I think he’s about ready to wring my neck.” William huffs out a laugh at that. 

“Except for maybe Moran.” He agrees. 

The two of you sit in silence for a minute. But it isn’t an uncomfortable silence. Instead, it’s warm and welcoming. It was something you sorely missed from Albert. 

And something you likely wouldn’t have for a while. 

“I’m afraid I must get back to my duties. With Albert gone, his responsibilities as a Lord have fallen to me.” William says and stands. He offers you a smile that has something concealed behind it. 

What was he hiding?

You narrow your eyes, but he says nothing more, instead leaving you to your own devices as you trace the letters in Albert’s note with your thumb. 

“They’re rather beautiful, aren’t they?” Comes a familiar voice, and your heart stops. You stand shakily, turning around to see your husband standing at the entrance to the gardens. He hadn’t even changed from his uniform, his medals decorating his breast and glinting in the sunlight. His hair was mussed and tousled from the wind, and running his hand through it. You swear you could see soot from gunfire staining his cheek. He looks tired as if he had come from the docks directly here. 

He likely had.

You set the papers down inside the box of letters you had been carrying with you, all the while looking at Albert. He sets down his hat and opens his arms, and the floodgates burst open. 

You crash into your husband and knock him to the ground in a bear hug. Your arms go around his neck, and you’re kissing him desperately. He cradles your cheeks, and you can almost taste the tears streaking someone’s cheeks. Whether they’re his or yours, you can’t tell.

But that doesn’t matter. 

Seven months, three weeks, and seventeen days later, he was finally home. 

[tinyglassearl]

Au where everyone thought Mycroft and Albert were banging when they were actually not. Poor Albert would  constantly get slut-shamed when he’s still a full blown virgin. 

Everyday would basically be: 

Albert, who was up all night searching through old files for a MI6 mission: God, my knees are killing me. 

Moran: Yeah I bet your throat is too. Slut.

Albert: ?

...........................

Albert: This is the last time I am EVER riding a horse. 

Moneypenny: That’s not a very nice name to call the Director. 

Albert: ???

.......................

Albert, who’s covered in mosquito bites after a field mission: No tea for me. I’m not very thirsty. 

Jack: Sure you aren’t. I sincerely hope he used protection. 

Albert, remembering Mycroft forgot the bug repellant: Um. We forgot?

Jack:

Jack: Dear God. 

.......................

Albert, covered in bruises because he tried and failed miserably at a surprise attack on Mycroft: Ow. OW! That bastard... he didn’t have to be so rough on me. 

Louis:

Louis: I am going to kill him.

......................

Bonus! 3 years later at the reunion dinner. 

Albert:.... to be fair, it wasn’t too lonely. Mycroft kept me busy through his lovely letters. :D

William: That sounds wonderful, brother!

William, internally: *Lord Almighty, they had sex in prison*

....................

And later when Mycroft and Albert finally got together, everyone would be like “We KNOW”, “Like it wasn’t obvious”

confusing the hell out of Mycal as they only just banged 2 hrs ago.

[tiger-moran]

I'm actually sure now this thing was created for people who don't like Moriarty or Moran and who don't like Moriarty/Moran

Saw someone saying Sherlock & Co fans should listen to Moriarty The Devil's Game because it's "so so good"

Uh...

I mean, sure some of them might like it. I guess.

But I'm not sure why overall you'd think most fans of a Holmes and Watson and Holmes + Watson deep friendship-centred podcast would give a shit about a thing focused on Moriarty and his irritating and tedious as fuck het relationship that not only makes Holmes into a complete prick it also has Holmes and Watson hating each other to the point where Watson betrays Holmes and is not actually far off murdering him. All while making Moriarty boring and ordinary as well. Do not get me started on the travesty that is Adler in that.

Except for being Sherlock Holmes-inspired podcasts/audio dramas they're nothing like each other.

[iphigeniacomplex]

My name is Camille. I am a born transgendered woman. When I was a child I said that I was a girl but the world called me a "faggot." Under the sky of pain called psychiatry I was locked away for many years and had the requisite tortures: the terror of electroshock, my bones broken, my body drugged and raped. I was not raised as a gender but as a bug of a child to be smashed. I am nobody's victim. My body belongs to me & so does my holy brain. I am the ghost of the untapped conscience of shrinks, a lurking justice, a part of the gathering truth that is rising with a common voice out of the wake of their evil blue fire. Transsexuals are born into the book of labels. We may be genetic but we are not genetically defective sub-human creatures. By the very nature of our difference, the independence of our alien spirituality, and the passion of the power of our will, we are a threat to the ruling delusions of the mental death profession. No one has our permission to debate the validity of our existence, to define our reality, to dismiss our pain, and to name us. We name ourselves. If you could look into the collective genetic memory of your humanity you would find us in the rivers of your dreams, for we were always here, we were here when Earth was a green spirit. We were a natural occurrence in a singing world. In times of absolute horror and destruction I wish for you all the transformational creativity of an utterly beautiful madness, and I offer you the blessing of a holy human freak.

"Why A Transgendered Woman Calls for Psychiatry's Destruction" by Camille Moran, published in the Fall 1993 issue of Dendron.

[citizenscreen]

#OnThisDay in 1929, the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre happened in Chicago. It was the culmination of a gang war between arch rivals Al Capone and Bugs Moran.

[leniisreallycool]

For character headcanon ask game, could you do Yuumori Bonde + 3, 29, 39 (can be a modern AU version if you want)? 💚

Ooh okay!

Bonde seems like a vanilla yogurt and fresh berries kind of guy. Probably either blueberries or strawberries. (I also see him as the kind of person who enjoys eating frozen fruit, but probably not as a midnight snack.) If not that, then a piece of buttered toast

Favorite genre of music... I'm going modern au for this one. I know he was canonically an opera singer but he just has cowboy rock vibes. I think that has an actual name but I can't remember. Things like Can't Go to Hell by Sin Shake Sin, Glitter and Gold by Barns Courtney, and Human by Rag'n'Bone Man

He's 100% the one Louis and Moran get when there's a spider in the house. I don't think he'd kill it either; he'd catch it in a glass and take it outside. He seems like he'd be unfazed by even "scary" bugs like cockroaches and other beetles, and he'd take them outside too. Bees land in his hair and don't sting him when he helps Fred with the garden

that was really fun!

[jennamoran]

🌂 Professor Moran? At the risk of this ask being lost in the seas of whatever the hell bug is ravaging your ask box, is there some significance to there being 24 archetypal Miraculous Arcs and how Arcs can jump off at Quest 3, 4, or 5, leading to 8*3=24 rough categories of stories? Do you, perchance, just like the number 24 a lot? Or the numbers 8 and 3?

Caught this one from the activity sidebar before it vanished!

Before Anthony Damiani made the first set of CMWGE icons for me, I was using trigrams, and coloring them to make them easier to visually reference. (The correlation to trigrams wasn't that great but I got the icons before I started really confronting that.) This gave rise to what became CMWGE's eight colors, and more generally the system's eightfold symmetry. It all spins out of the colors of XP Actions, which match Arcs/Issues/powersets.

I built an initial set of characters complete with powers before I started pulling out the Arcs from them and expanding them to complete powersets. I didn't want to make Frantic or Immortal part of a specific powerset, because, like, they were Noble-style and Imperator-style powersets at the time, and so it made sense to pull them out and have Frantic Arcs and Immortal Arcs. Pretty sure I was unable to assign de Montreal to Frantic or Immortal, giving rise to Sickly, but that part I don't remember for sure.

Just like I never found a ninth color I needed, I never needed a fourth powerset type; twenty-four combinations didn't cover everything I ever came up with perfectly but they were always close enough that it made more sense to fit what I was doing to one of those eight, three, or twenty-four than to expand them. It's similar to how even when I want to add dice to a game, I keep finding simpler diceless approaches than adding a whole new resolution system; when I wanted to make a diced system for the Far Roofs, I had to built it in from the very beginning to make that work.

*

posts this

sees tumblr's response "this post has ceased to exist."

... but it's ... here? Tho?

[seeingteacupsindragons]

Aroace Louis and William as teenagers staring at Moran like, "We understand none of your behavior. We're going to study you like a bug."

[myhauntedsalem]

The Haunting of Al Capone

At the height of the Prohibition era an incident of gangland violence stands out above all the rest—the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. These murders that took place in February of 1929 where especially brutal—even for the time. This bloody violence in Chicago resulted in two distinct hauntings. One at the location where the murders took place and one that plagued the man responsible, Al Capone at the end of his life.

In the 1920s violent gang shootings in Chicago were not uncommon as warring fractions battled for control of the cities various lucrative bootlegging, speakeasy, gambling and prostitution operations. Alphonse Capone, a rising gangster who ruled Chicago’s south side and George “Bugs” Moran who controlled the north side where two of the most powerful gangland leaders in 1929. Capone, ever ambitious, decided to hit Moran where it hurt so he could eliminate his only competition.

Moran operated out of a garage, S-M-C Cartage Company on North Clark Street. Capone who had this garage under surveillance for weeks arranged for a man, who Moran trusted, to call and tell him to expect a shipment of bootlegged whiskey on the morning of February 14. On this date, seven of Moran’s men where inside the garage as what appeared to be a police car drove up. Five men, three in uniforms and two in plains clothes got out of this car and entered the garage. Ironically, Moran who was late that morning spotted this “police” car and he and one of his men ducked inside a nearby coffee shop.

Meanwhile, in the garage the fake cops had informed Moran’s men that they were there for a raid. They ordered these seven to stand facing a wall and to place their hands above their heads. These men thinking they were caught did as they were told. Capone’s thugs then pulled out Thompson machine guns and shotguns and brutally shot them in the head, chest and stomach, killing them.

The bullets they used had been brushed with garlic—a superstition that it was said ensured death. These fake officers then led out their two buddies dressed in plain clothes at gunpoint in order to make it look like they had made arrests. They got in their car and drove off unchallenged. A passerby discovered the slaughtered men inside when he heard a German shepherd owned by one of the murdered men, crying pitifully inside. One man was found barely alive—he had fourteen bullets in him. He was rushed to the hospital where he refused to say who had shot him. He died shortly afterward.

At the time of the massacre Capone was in Florida. Both he and Moran accused each other of the killings. The identities of Capone’s five hit men have never been definitely established. No charges were ever filed against Capone for this massacre. This violence did succeed in breaking apart Moran’s north side operations. But ironically Capone was never to reap the rewards of this power grab for these brutal murders caused a major public outcry. Federal agents headed by Elliot Ness—the Untouchables—were brought in to crack down on crime in Chicago.

The bloodstained garage where the massacre occurred was torn down in 1967 for an urban renewal project. Before the building was torn down countless witnesses heard screams, sobbing, and moaning sounds coming from inside. Today what remains of the site is a grassy area with five trees. It is said that dogs that pass by the area whine, bark and snarl at something unseen.

Capone and one of his men were arrested in Philadelphia in 1929. They were charged with carrying concealed weapons. Capone was sentenced to one year in prison. When he was released he returned to Chicago but he found the city now was much less tolerant of crime. In 1934 he was nabbed for tax evasion and sent to Alcatraz prison. Finding himself beaten by guards and evading threats on his life from fellow prisoners he spent most of his time in isolation. It is said he played a banjo his wife sent him and wept for all that he had lost.

Suffering from the advanced stages of syphilis his guards reported that they heard him pleading with someone in his cell. It appears that the ghost of James Clark, one of the men killed in the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre was haunting him. He claimed that Clark would not let him alone. He was often found in his cell babbling and crying about this ghost that tormented him. At the time he was released one of his mobster compatriots stated Capone was, “nuttier than a fruitcake”. In 1947 Capone died of a brain hemorrhage caused by syphilis.

[techtuv]

This Gangster Car From 1932 Has Bulletproof Glass and Portholes for Tommy Guns

In cities like Chicago, Al Capone and Bugs Moran in the 1920s and 1930s, gangsters went to great lengths to protect themselves from rival gangs and law enforcement, often resorting to extreme measures to stay one step ahead. This 1932 Cadillac is proof of that and is on display at the Historic Automobile Touring Museum in Roscoe, Illinois.