#Carthorne

[mega-aulover]

The Way We Were Sneak Peek

Thank you to @thelettersfromnoone @zenkor123 and @atelierlili for tagging me in Wednesday's WIP's . This is my sneak peek of my contributionf for @fandomsunited4hr collection.

It's rated T

“Thanks,” Delly said. “Thank you and Peeta for the sheets. I remember how bad winters get here.”

“So where did you live after the war again?” Katniss slipped her hands in her pockets standing straight, her no-nonsense face in place.

Delly felt heat blossoming on her cheeks. In the time she’d spent in the district no one questioned her past. Katniss, however, did. “I’ve, ah, told you,” she cleared her throat. “I spent time in the Capitol with my brother. I lived there until he found a nice girl and settled down. Then I spent time with Johanna and Annie. They’re raising Finn together, but a lot of the time I was the third wheel.”

“Then you came here?” Katniss clipped her eyes and suddenly was focused on Delly’s midsection. 

“No,” Delly said, noting how high pitched her voice was. “Then I went to District Two, for a job.” She clasped her hands together. “Then I came here. I guess there’s no place like home.” 

Katniss narrowed her gaze again.

Delly stared back unable to stop her face and neck from heating up. She wasn’t supposed to mention she went to District Two. She was supposed to say she passed through District Seven, but her mind was mush. Katniss wasn’t as oblivious as others claimed. Her mind was sharp. Delly busied herself with putting away the blankets. It felt as if Katniss could detect duplicitous actions and statements. Delly wondered what Katniss had been able to piece together. 

I'm tagging @norbertsmom @mtk4fun @notanislander @katnissdoesnotfollowback

[chipistrate]

I can't get a screenshot right now but that second thing the Anon mentioned is from a Steam post that Scott Carthorn kept updating as he was working on the characters. You can find it with the WayBack machine.

Every time he finished a character, he would update the post explaining what their mechanic was gonna be for the game. On April Fools, he decided to do a bit of a joke and reveal 3 fake mechanics, all of which poked fun at old fan theories:

Phone Guy would call you and make noise, agitating the animatronics in the vents. But he would only appear if Springtrap was inactive, since he "can't be in two places at once".

Foxy would appear in your office and offer various forms of help. He could give you extra power, delete every animatronic in the vents, or block one of the doors for the rest of the night.

Nightmare Freddy would activate an alarm clock. This would cause you to wake up as a kid in your bedroom and realize that it's all a dream. You wouldn't be able to do anything for a while before falling back asleep.

Thank ye both! ^^ I remember this joke actually- didn't remember the Nightmare Freddy part though lmao

[anonymousquill]

if jules and emma keep smashing holes in walls, they better be allowing the brownies more tea time for the inconvenience i stg

[aglionbyacademia]

times are tough and I’m missing him (julian atticus blackthorn)

[howardhawkshollywoodannex]

Joseph Cawthorn as Dr Armand de Fontinac gives a medical examination to Jeanette MacDonald in a sexy negligee in a scene from Love Me Tonight (1932) often completely removed in aggressively censored releases.

[tyblackthorndefensesquad]

Emma: [softly] I think you’re a really great, kind, and considerate person and I'm glad to have you in my life and-

Julian: What?

Emma: [loudly] NOTHING. I SAID I HATE YOU.

[garden-ghoul]

I’m finally all caught up on twilight mirage! I love the bullshit horse quest most of all, I love even casually flying up and very politely insulting caliper, I love “ground juice is not only the thing it is.” I hate how many hooks there are in leaf carthorn’s lecture for things that could be the secret divine. literally everything on quire is the secret divine, but especially the planet itself.

[jlynsiga]

Art inspired by Emma Carstairs and Julian Blackthorn

[dustedmagazine]

Sam Rivers Trio – Emanation (No Business)

Musician discographies are like icebergs. Commercially released recordings often only represent a surface-visible and procurable fraction of actual output; a reflection of those comparatively few instances when resources, fortitude, and good fortune aligned to yield salable product. Samuel Carthorne Rivers situation was no different. Despite a career that spanned seven decades in music, his extant catalog doesn’t even equate to an album a year with numerous gaps across the continuum. Emanation, first in a series of eight projected releases stewarded by the Lithuanian No Business label, seeks to remedy that relative scarcity by cherry-picking from the late Rivers’ personal recording trove, itself a studiously preserved archive that tallies to literally thousands of hours of unreleased music.

Rivers adopted the trio format for his freer excursions starting at the cusp of tenure spent in Cecil Taylor’s group between 1969 and 1971. Bassist Cecil McBee and drummer Norman Conners were original members beginning early in that latter year and the band caught the ear of Impulse Records, eventually releasing a full album (Streams) and additional material from live performances in 1973 on the imprint. Rivers’ reportedly felt the music recorded at the Montreux Jazz Festival for first release somewhat clinical in comparison to what the trio was capable of at their best. The concert restored here captures the players at a Jazz Workshop residency in Boston, summer of 1971, that would be difficult to dismiss as such given the amount of focus and energy brought to bear throughout its duration.  

Split into two sets, the music follows a schematic customary to Rivers in both small group and solo sessions at least as late as his seminal Portrait project for the German FMP label in 1995. Features for each of his four primary instruments (tenor and soprano saxophones, flute, and piano) unfold across a vibrantly realized seventy-seven minutes with McBee and Conners generating active color and commentary. Rivers leads with a tenor exploration at once extemporaneous and wholly deliberate with bass and then drums aligning to the brisk forward momentum. Numerous in-the-moment recalibrations ensue with Rivers seizing on and discarding melodic material at whim while stalwartly driving the music without overly dominating it. 

Given the inventiveness in evidence throughout the tenor passage, the shift to the first of two flute sections subsequent a virtuosic solo statement from McBee feels bittersweet, if only initially, as Rivers almost immediately justifies the switch with more wind-voiced ingenuity. After a brief resetting pause, bass and drums continue about their business from their respective corners, bolstering the leader’s aerial improvisations with the sort of responsive expositions born from deep listening. Equally compelling segments for piano and soprano follow, but the biggest surprise arrives late in the performance when Rivers, again officiating on flute, fractures his expulsions into delirious glossolalia punctuated by a sudden and cautionary, “lookout, lookout you motherfucker!”

Derek Taylor

[mega-aulover]

THE SEAM COBBLER

SUMMARY: Delly is promised to marry Peeta, but she ends up getting pregnant by Gale. Pregnant Delly must marry to be able to keep the family business. What happens when Gale Gaylord Yancy Hawthorne marries the Merchant girl no one wanted?

RATING: M

Special thanks to first my beta and bestie @norbertsmom whom I've pestered I mean asked for her to give me her opinion on all of the new bits in this story. Also thank you to all of you who have given Gale & Delly a chance at love.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: The last time Gale found out Delly was pregnant. They finally met face to face and had a nice long little chat about no sex! Ouch. They have toasted and now begin Gale's life as a Cobbler and his married life with Delly. There first obstacle Katniss and Peeta's wedding...

READ HEAR: AO3 & FFN

[facetioussoup]

Mastriano and Budd Win, Carthorn Gets Edged, PA Senate Too Close to Call

Mastriano and Budd Win, Carthorn Gets Edged, PA Senate Too Close to Call

https://rumble.com/embed/v12jfvh/?pub=cwkzv

[aprismaticodyssey]

Andrei/Anya Carthorne

from 2017

Buy me a coffee

[mariusperkins]

FIC: cosy in the rocket (1/1)

Gig's a friendly kind of guy. The people on Quire notice it.(Gig/various npcs)

A/N: Thanks to @madelinestarr for betaing and generally being encouraging and supportive of me being always on my bullshit

Read it under the cut or on AO3.

Gig/Surge/Janey

Grand's distracted during breakfast, twisting in his seat to look out of the window to where Echo's running through sword drills. Even eats almost absent-mindedly, pouring over their projected path to lay down the next node, trying to spot any future trouble before it arrives.

That's probably why none of them notice the lingering hand Surge lays of Gig's shoulder as he comes into the room, the way Surge leaves it there as he inquires after how they slept. Even and Grand mumble short sentences, both distracted by their own tasks, letting Gig’s chatter wash over them unheard. Surge smiles at something Gig says, so Even figures he at least doesn't have to worry about if whatever Gig's saying is offending their hosts.

As Echo finishes up a set of movements, Grand jumps out of his chair to head outside. Even follows, hoping to cut off any arguments before they start. Gig stays inside.

If the others weren't so distracted, perhaps they would have noticed the way Janey laid her hand on top of Surge’s as she entered the room, squeezing Gig's hand through Surge's, before she moved on to start on her own breakfast prep. Gig hops up to help, and Janey shoots him a soft smile, handing him a mixing bowl.

By the time the others came back inside Gig is helping Surge with the dishes, soap suds clinging to his tank top.

“That's good of you,” says Even, as Echo and Grand leave the room to collect their gear.

“Oh, y’know,” says Gig, “I like to help out.”

Gig/Lily Lysander

Echo insists they find Gig again, after the broadcast. They go through maps of Quire, trying to track down places he might have gone after that last broadcast, narrowing it down to a few key areas. Grand is both annoyed and relieved that he doesn’t have to go to the place Gig last broadcast from. The creature’s probably gone by now, but Grand has no desire to face something like that on his own.

Instead, of course, they practically bump into Gig as they’re walking out the door. He’s walking in front of Duck with a bright pink woman, speaking animatedly. Both of them have a rich, dark clay on their clothes in splatters and streaks.

Echo waves to get Gig’s attention and Gig waves back, grinning.  If he’s feeling any residual sadness from the broadcast he’s certainly not showing it. The woman looks at them curiously.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late, I got dropped off at this place sort of near here but I had no idea how to get back here so I had to walk all the way to somewhere I did know to ask for directions,” says Gig, speaking quickly. “It would have been faster to ride but, uh, Duck was tired.”

Behind them, Duck snorts.

“But hey, I’m here now, how’ve you guys been? You look tired. Oh! Guys, this is Lily, Lily, this is Even, Echo, and Grand.”

Lily nods. “I saw you guys in Gig’s broadcast. Your stuff’s pretty wild.”

“Oh, uh,” says Grand, searching his pocket for a pen, “do you want a signature or--”

Lily laughs. “No, it’s cool. I should probably be getting back to help the Doc. He’s pretty frazzled right now.”

Gig nods. “Yeah, I’ll bet. Thanks for, y’know helping me not be so lost. I guess I’ll see you around?”

Lily smiles. The motion of it makes the sunlight glint off the gold stars on her cheeks. “Well, next time you get lost, you should uh, stop by for directions.”

“Cool,” says Gig, grinning.

Lily’s smile widens. “Cool.”

Gig/Doctor Leaf Carthorn

They’re gathered around the old text, trying to puzzle out the meaning. The missing sections of text aren’t making it easier, the topic seems to jumps from one thing to another without warning, moving from a section on the first wells dug by those who landed on Quire to a description of the wildlife, to struggle to build the first houses.

“It’s just not very well written,” says Grand, after twenty minutes of staring at the page.

“It doesn’t matter how well-written you think it is,” says Echo, “We just need to understand what it says.”

Whatever. Grand’s an artist not an expert in ancient linguistics. He could be an expert, if he wanted to be, but the world is better served by his art. If he took time away from his art to perfect his understanding of language then the world would suffer.

“Maybe we should just ask someone,” says Gig.

“I don’t know that we have anyone trustworthy enough to ask,” says Even.

“Oh, I do,” says Gig. “Here, I’ll call him now.”

“What, Gig, don’t--”

Gig has already popped out his eye to project the call against the wall. There’s a series of beeping as the call goes through. After a moment, a man appears in the projection. He’s holding a bunch of papers in his hand awkwardly and he peers at them for a moment before he blinks, leaning back and smiling.

“Mr Kep-hart, hello,” says the man, running a hand through his hair. The action makes it stand up even more wildly than before.

“Hi Doc!” says Gig, “Listen, I know you’re like, crazy-busy--”

“I am,” starts Doc, “the board--”

“But we found this old book, and we think it maybe has something to do with, you know,” Gig waves a hand, “everything, but we can’t figure it out and I thought, hey, why not ask the guy who knows more about Quire’s history than anybody?”

Doc blinks again. “Oh. Who?”

Gig laughs. “You, Doc!”

Doc’s cheeks flush faintly. “Oh! Well. I don’t know how much help I’ll be but I can certainly take a look at it if you like. Can you bring it to my apartment later today?”

“Sure, absolutely,” says Gig, “Thanks Doc!”

“No problem, no problem at all,” says Doc, “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye!” says Gig cheerfully.

“Gig,” says Even.

“What?” says Gig, “We need someone’s help to figure it out, and Doc helped me figure out some stuff to do with Duck, sort of. He’s the best expert on Quire’s history that I know. I mean, he’s also the only expert on Quire’s history that I know, but I think my point stands.”

“If he doesn’t seem trustworthy,” says Echo, “we’re not showing him the book.”

“Trust me,” says Gig, “He’s super trustworthy. And nice!”

Echo wrinkles their nose.

Gig/Armstrong

Even narrows his eyes at their captive. He recognises the look on Armstrong’s face, the pressed-thin lips and cold eyes. It’s the kind of expression that tells you that any information is going to have to be pulled out of them with extreme force. Even flexes his hands, watching the minute shift in Armstrong’s body as he shifts in the chair, testing the ropes they’ve tied him with.

There’s a loud clanging knock on the door signalling the other’s return. Even straightens his shoulders before he moves to unbolt the door. It might be better, strategically, to leave them out of this, but none of them are the kind of kids who can keep their nose out of things, and at least this way they’re a united front. Maybe Armstrong will cave under their numbers.

Grand’s eyes widen as he steps through the door, trying to suppress his surprise and not doing a very good job at it. Echo raises their eyebrows slightly at Even, moving to lean back against the bare metal wall of the shack. Grand copies their motion, folding his arms and frowning at Armstrong.

Gig is a few paces behind them, making sure Duck is settled before he follows the other two in. When he sees Armstrong, his eyes light up in a way Even wasn’t quite expecting and he smiles.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were going to be here,” says Gig brightly.

“Wasn’t expecting to be,” says Armstrong, shifting his arms against the ropes, “Obviously.”

“Oh,” says Gig, stepping forward, “Here, let me…”

He’s starts to loosen the ropes before Even can grab him. Echo draws their sword, stepping in front of Grand.

Armstrong wriggles out of the ropes, but stays seated. He gives Gig a lop-sided smile.

“Good to see you again man,” says Armstrong, “If I’d know you’d be here I would’ve sent a wave. We could have got drinks instead.”

Gig steps out of Even’s grip to step closer to Armstrong again. “I think I have some ground juice in my bag.”

“You don’t say,” says Armstrong, grinning up at Gig.

“I do say,” says Gig, “give me a sec, Duck has it.”

“A duck has your ground juice?”

“No, that’s the name of my horse,” says Gig, “Or, not my horse, he’s his own horse. We’re friends.”

Armstrong huffs a laugh. “Your horse friend named Duck.”

“That’s him!” says Gig. “Hold on.”

Armstrong leans back in the chair, posture relaxed and loose. “I got nowhere to be. Not urgently, anyway.”

“Perfect!” says Gig. He leaves the door open as he leaves.

Even keeps his eyes locked on Armstrong. “I don’t know what your game is--”

“No game,” says Armstrong. “Gig and I have met before; isn’t that right, Gig?”

“Yep!” says Gig, brandishing a half-full bottle, “He shot me and then I climbed on his ship and threatened to blow him up.”

Echo tighten their grip on their sword hilt.

Armstrong hums. “You did also try to shoot me.”

“Yeah, but I missed, so that doesn’t count,” says Gig, like it’s a dance.

“Well you’re just not as well-versed in that kinda shot,” says Armstrong, “you were at a disadvantage.”

“Still tricked you later though,” says Gig, grinning.

Armstrong laughs. “Yeah, you got me good.”

Gig’s grin fades a little into something softer, warmer. “Yeah, I kinda did.”

He sits down, folding his long legs under him, holding himself tall so they’re almost at eye level. Gig holds out the bottle and Armstrong accepts it, taking a long pull before he hands the bottle back.

Armstrong lets out a long breath. “I guess your friends have some questions for me.”

“Yeah,” says Gig. “Do you mind?”

“Yeah,” says Armstrong, “but I have a feeling I’m not leaving until I tell them, and I guess I do owe you one.”

“Maybe I’ll owe you one after this,” says Gig.

Armstrong smirks. “Maybe. I’m sure we can work something out.”

Gig/Quire

Gig dives forward before anyone can stop him, leaping off Duck into the fray. The earth under them rumbles, cracking and growing as a figure pulls itself from the earth. No, Echo realises with dread, the figure is the earth. They recognise it from the playback they’ve seen of Gig’s broadcast, but the reality of it is so much bigger, so much louder, so much more than it seemed in mesh.

Quire roars, slamming its hand down where the gunfire had come from. Grand stumbles and Echo pulls him out of the way of falling debris from the creature. Even pulls at their jacket, trying to get them to move towards cover. He's yelling something, but it's hard to hear over the creature’s roars, the booming sounds of its footsteps. Its every motion throws up dust and rocks, and it's impossible to see in front of them, let alone to where Gig has gone.

They see the Independent ships take off, their movements erratic in an attempt to avoid Quire’s blows. The creature gives one last, ear-splitting roar at their retreat. It looks down at them, the featureless rocks that make up its head grinding as it moves. Echo braces themselves for the inevitable attack.

Grand presses himself flat against the rock behind him, as though it could provide any real cover. “Let's get out of here before they come back.”

“I really don't think that's the issue right this minute,” says Echo.

“No,” agrees Even, “But we should still--” he breaks off, looking around, one hand on his weapon. “Where's Gig?”

Echo looks back towards the creature, where it's legs sink back into the earth. A figure emerges through the dust - Duck, riderless.

Echo hears Even take a long, shaky breath in.

“Hey!”

A voice, barely audible. Echo blinks at Duck, who snorts, looking utterly unconcerned by the situation.

“Hey,” says the voice again, “hey guys! Up here!”

They crane their neck, peering up (and up, and up) Quire's body. There, on Quire's shoulder, sits Gig. He's waving.

“What,” says Echo, “the fuck.”

Grand cups his hands around his mouth. “Gig! What the fuck!”

They can hear Gig's cackle-laugh on the wind.

“Hold tight,” Even yells, “We'll come get you!”

“Don't worry about!” yells Gig, “I totally got this!”

Even shoots them a panicked look. “What--”

Gig says something else but the words don't reach them, lost under the sound of rock grinding on rock as the creature moves, lifting it's giant hand up to its shoulder where Gig sits, leaving them helpless to only watch as it… holds out its hand for Gig to step onto.

Carefully, Quire leans until it's hand it resting flat against the ground. Gig steps off, giving the hand a quick pat before he steps back. Duck trots over, and Gig rubs his hand over Duck's nose soothingly.

“Gig,” says Grand. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before signing, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah?” says Gig, “Oh, right, yeah.” He turns back to face Quire, tilting his head back. “Thanks buddy!”

Quire makes a noise, not quite the fearsome roar of before but still shaking the earth under their feet.

“Hey, you too!” Gig calls back, “I totally owe you one.”

Quire makes another sound, one that sets Echo's teeth on edge. It takes Echo a moment to realise that Quire is laughing. The creature raises it's arm in a wave before walking away, sinking deeper and deeper into the earth with each step, until it's completely disappeared.

“Gig,” Grand tries again.

“What?” says Gig distractedly.

He’s running his hands over Duck’s sides, making soothing noises whenever he comes across small scratches. Duck buts his head against Gig’s shoulder, the strands of his mane pointing towards Grand. Gig looks over at him, frowning. He shrugs.

“I think we’re going to need a better explanation than that,” says Even.

“I guess Quire appreciated being able to broadcast,” says Gig, “I don’t think it gets a lot of opportunities to talk to people like that.”

“I thought it took you over though,” says Grand.

Gig waves a hand. “Yeah, but that was ages ago, and it was all stuff we needed to know, so I’m, y’know, over it.”

“You’re over it,” says Echo.

“Yeah,” says Gig, I’m over it.” He pats Duck’s side and Duck scoops Gig up with his mane, helping Gig onto his back. “We heading out or what?”

Gig keeps Duck’s pace slow. As he passes by a large rock, Gig leans down to pat it twice, and Echo swears the feel the earth rumble under their feet, just a little, in response.

[nevertrustasword]

carthorn might b my new fav npc i lOVe this disgraced academic who knows !!! theres important history to be discovered !!! if only ppl would lISTEN

[ericfruits]

A Seven-Year Mistake

The United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit sustained a claim of ineffective assistance of counsel

In this appeal, we consider the district court’s dismissal of a motion for postconviction relief under 28 U.S.C. § 2255. We decide whether our decision on direct appeal, that a sentencing court did not plainly err in designating a defendant as a “career offender,” requires a conclusion on collateral review that trial counsel did not render ineffective assistance by failing to object to that designation. Upon our review, we conclude that the standards for plain error and ineffective assistance of counsel are distinct and do not necessarily result in equivalent outcomes for the defendant. Under the circumstances presented here, we hold that the defendant’s trial counsel rendered ineffective assistance by failing to understand the required legal analysis, and by failing to make an obvious objection to the career offender designation. These failures by counsel resulted in prejudice to the defendant by increasing his sentence by more than seven years’ imprisonment. We therefore vacate the defendant’s sentence, and remand the case to the district court for resentencing.

The issue involved the impact of a prior offense

The [career offender] recommendation was based on Carthorne’s two prior convictions, including the one conviction at issue here for Virginia assault and battery of a police officer (ABPO), in violation of Virginia Code § 18.2-57(C). The probation officer concluded that ABPO qualified as a “crime of violence” under Section 4B1.2(a) of the Guidelines, thereby qualifying Carthorne for the career offender enhancement. The ABPO offense, committed in 2002, occurred as a result of Carthorne spitting in the face of a police officer without further altercation. United States v. Carthorne, 726 F.3d 503, 508 (4th Cir. 2013) (Carthorne I)...

Carthorne’s retained trial counsel did not object to the career offender designation, or argue more specifically that ABPO failed to qualify as a predicate offense.

Trial counsel failed to understand and apply the required legal analysis

 Here, counsel demonstrated that he was not even aware of the analysis required by the categorical approach or its application in assessing predicate offenses for purposes of the career offender enhancement. As noted above, in his colloquy with the court, counsel explained: “I would like to have been lucky to have found a case that says spitting on an officer is not an assault.” Counsel mentioned the “categorical approach,” but apparently did not understand that the facts of the original “spitting” offense were irrelevant to the predicate offense inquiry. Moreover, contrary to the above-stated authority, counsel actually admitted that any argument that ABPO was not a crime of violence was “without merit.”

Counsel should have known that the above-stated precedent raised serious questions whether ABPO qualified as a crime of violence under the Guidelines, and that he had a  duty to object to Carthorne’s designation as a career offender on those grounds. See Strickland, 466 U.S. at 691; Williamson, 183 F.3d at 463; Ramirez, 799 F.3d at 855. Instead, counsel referenced research only addressing the question whether spitting on a person constitutes an assault and battery, which question would have been relevant only on a direct appeal of the original ABPO conviction. Such a misunderstanding on the part of counsel illustrates his basic failure to comprehend the relevant legal analysis.

The court further concluded that there was no strategic reason for the lapse.

Money quote from counsel when the issue came up

MR. JOHNSON: Judge, I have labored over that case long, looked and researched for a long time trying to develop and asking providence for a lucky break. I’m not a good lawyer. Sometimes I just like to be lucky if I could [sic], and I would like to have been lucky to have found a case that says spitting on an officer is not an assault. Notwithstanding the fact that he plead [sic] guilty, was sentenced to it, notwithstanding the fact that the facts of it are the officer is just walking down the street saying “what’s up,” you say “what’s up,” and you spit back on the officer. I’d like to take an argument and say, well, he didn’t strike the officer. He didn’t hurt him. There was no violence. But right now I think the categorical approach that the—as I  understand it, the Supreme Court and the Fourth Circuit has taken would render such an argument—

THE COURT: Without merit.

MR. JOHNSON: Yes, Your Honor. So I would rather argue, Judge, that he was just a fool.

(Mike Frisch)

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