#Dolo eventual

[thenixkat]

I don't think folks appreciate how fucking kickass it was that Annette was able to hold off fucking Ammit *The Devourer of Souls/Swallower of the Dead* off for so long solo dolo.

That is a *feat*.

Ammit is also a fucking *god*. She was there to fucking *eat* Sekhmet, Sekhmet was scared and in despair for *a reason*. Ammit would have eventually defeated Sekhmet and would have erased her from *existence* in all forms b/c that's what Ammit *does*.

Just cause Annette wasn't in on the Erzsebet jumping, doesn't mean she wasn't doing some kickass shit.

[dcbbw]

Knock, Knock

Dearest Tumblrs,

I know I have been MIA for the longest of times, but I haven’t left y’all yet. My father died 46 days ago. I’m still processing that, still getting used to the presence of his absence. I have spent the majority of 2024 caring for two parents while holding down a full-time job; differentiating between sickness and illness, conditions and diseases, and watching a loved one fall into an invincible decline and eventually succumb to the inevitable.

I have never experienced profound loss before, and it is a hurt unlike any other I have ever experienced. I thought because I was there, I saw it unfolding in real time 24/7 that I would be prepared when the time came.

I was not. I never was.

I’m still grieving, still reeling from the sucker-punch that is death, still tiptoeing around a landmine of emotions, all while being a productive employee and dutiful daughter and caretaker to my remaining parent.

I don’t sleep well (and haven’t for over a year), listening for bumps and cries in the night and waiting to hear my name called because I’m needed. I don’t go out unless it’s to run errands: grocery store, car maintenance, pick up prescriptions. I spend 9 hours at a paid job (forgoing my lunch hour so I can come home and make beds, empty commodes, and fix lunch for my mom; before dad’s decline got too bad, I fed them both).

There’s laundry to wash, dry, fold; bathrooms to clean, floors to mop, rooms to sweep and vacuum, meals to cook. Mail and packages have to be both sent out and brought in. And since dad left, I have to take care of what is left of his business as well as get help with keeping the house standing. The furnace had to be replaced; there was a gas leak and piping had to be repaired and restored. The main sewer line was clogged and had to be cleared. I still need to find a reliable yard person to rake and bag the leaves.

 I’m strong because I have to be, not because I want to be.

During all of this, dealing with reality and life, all I wanted to do was write. To lose myself in worlds I create, to detach myself from transition and death and ever-mounting bills. My head is filled constantly with thoughts, ideas, and dialogue; perhaps now I may be able to find/make time and have more focus to get back to what calms me, what I feel I do well, and makes me happy.

I have so many stories to finish (my masterlist is a huge pile of incompletes) and start, but these are the stories and AUs in the works:

Babylon—Dolos: The Homeland AU dealing with international current events

Babylon—Belly of the Beast: The Homeland AU fictionalizing the 2024 election

 Watercoolers and Coffeepots—the DC AU gang’s take on the 2024 election within the workplace

Sex and the Middle-Aged Divorcee—what’s it like being a 54-year-old woman in the world of online dating

Single—UnRomance is back with a follow-up to this storyline

Tuesday’s Child—an OC-centric story about a family whose patriarch is dying (any similarities between my family (or yours) is purely coincidental

Hospital Lost—a medical drama AU drawn largely on St. Elsewhere, ER, and Grey’s Anatomy which will be a crossover cluster. Imagine Open Heart with focus on emergency room patients and a lot more staff

I feel it’s only fair to warn you that I’ve decided to give up creative writing for writing creatively; if my writing reads/feels differently, this is the reason why.

This is all I have for now, but hopefully I will be back soon. Since I have ZERO idea who’s left, tagging the few I know are still active in the TRR/TRH/TRF sub-fandom. Feel free to let me know if you want on or off the taglist.

Tagging: @angelasscribbles @kristinamae093 @kingliam2019 @indiacater @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @bebepac

[coinandcandle]

Eris Deep Dive: Goddess of Discord and Strife

Eris (Ἔρις) is the Greek personification of discord and strife—more notably she was considered to be the daimona of the strife of war. She was not considered a goddess in the same respect as the Olympians until more recently.

While she was not worshiped in ancient Greece, she has become a popular deity in Discordianism, a modern religion, as well as being worshiped by solitary individuals. In modern day she is given a kinder but still discordant role, worshiped as a goddess of chaos and specifically necessary chaos; chaos invoked as the catalyst of change. She is also said to be the goddess of the chaos needed for artists to create.

Parents and Siblings

Her parentage depends on who is relaying the story. The most popular belief is that she was spawned by Nyx alone.

Nyx, no father

Nyx and Erebus (only because Erebus was Nyx’s lover)

Zeus and Hera (because she is noted as Ares’ sister)

Siblings will also depend. According to Hesiod’s Theogony, her siblings are:

Aether

Hemera

Moros

Apate

Dolos

Nemesis

The Keres

The Moirai

The Hesperides

The Erinyes

Oizys

Momus

Oneiros

Hypnos

Thanatos

Philotes

Geras

If she is the daughter of Zeus and Hera then the list of siblings would be way longer including all half siblings. She is specifically mentioned to be Ares’ sister in Homer’s Iliad. Too many to list, I will instead offer you the genealogy of Zeus and Hera.

Her full-blooded siblings would be:

Hebe

Ares

Eileithyia

Lovers or Partners

No lovers mentioned

Children

Ponos (Hardship)

Lethe (Forgetfulness)

Limos (Starvation)

Algea (Pains)

Hysminai (Battles)

Makhai (Wars)

Phonoi (Murders)

Androktasiai (Manslaughters)

Neikea (Quarrels)

Pseudea (Lies)

Logoi (Stories)

Amphillogiai (Disputes)

Dysnomia (Anarchy)

Ate (Ruin)

Horkos (Oath)

Epithets

Note that these aren’t historically attested, they do come from translated myths but that doesn’t mean she was called this throughout history.

Strife

Infernal Goddess

Mother of Cacodaemons

Notes

Often Eris is called a goddess of chaos in modern times, but in history she is recorded as the goddess of discord. While they seem like synonyms they are not, chaos is disorder and confusion; discord is argument or disagreement. While discord may lead to chaos, they are not one in the same.

This confusion may come from the conflation of Eris and the similar but still separate Roman goddess Discordia, who is the goddess of chaos and was often seen in a kinder light than the Greek Eris.

Eris is the last born of Nyx according to the Theogony.

She is noted in mythology to be particularly fond of the bloodshed of war.

Eris and the goddess of war Enyo are often conflated.

In his writing Works and Days, Hesiod says that there are two Erises; one that exists purely to plague mankind with strife, and the other is a kinder Eris who instills a healthy sense of competition in mankind.

Unfortunately Eris does not appear in mythology often, as is the case for many daimones, However her most popular roles in mythology are:

Throwing the (sometimes golden) apple into a feast with the words inscribed “to the fairest”, causing three goddesses, Aphrodite, Athena, and Hera, to argue about who the apple should go to. Eventually, not wanting to deal with it, Zeus made the human mortal Paris decide. Though her role was short, it was a huge part in starting the Trojan war in mythology. Read about The Judgement of Paris.

When Polytechnos and Aëdon said their relationship was way better than Zeus and Hera’s, Hera sent Eris down to create marital discord between them. She did just that, making them compete against each other. Polytechnos was completing a standing board for a chariot and Aëdon a tapestry at the time, so they made a bet on who would finish first. Whoever lost would present the other with a slave. It gets pretty dark and they end up getting turned into birds by Zeus, a common ‘kind’ gesture from him in mythology. Read more here.

Interestingly enough, Eris is pictured with Themis, the goddess of divine law and order on a vase depicting the Judgement of Paris. The two watch over the three goddesses.

In another painting, Eris is depicted wearing winged shoes and having wings herself. This could symbolize freedom and swiftness—sometimes sneakiness as well. This would make sense for Eris as she is considered in mythology to be a sneaky troublemaker.

There were no shrines known to be dedicated to Eris.

Discordia, Eris’ Roman counterpart, was associated with the type of discord needed for societal change and going with the grain.

Modern Deity Work

Seeing as she was not worshiped as far as we know in ancient times, these are pulled from mostly modern practitioners’ posts as well as general practices of Hellenism.

Correspondences

Rocks/Stone/Crystals

Gold, Onyx, Smoky quartz, moldavite

Herbs/Plants

Apples, hallucinogenic plants,

Animals

Venomous snakes, scorpions, ravens, foxes (all associated with other deities of chaos and discord)

Offerings

Apples with Honey

Honey

Fruits

Breads

Olive oil

Red meat

Wine

Blood (please be smart about this)

Gunpowder (again, don’t be dumb)

Imagery of war

Weapons or imagery of weapons

Acts of Devotion

Learn to embrace chaos as a catalyst for change.

Enter into competitions, whether they be sports or art contests, just go compete!

Learn about the history of war, especially the wars of Ancient Greece.

Join protests for what you believe in, breaking societal norms.

Pull a prank! She’s a trickster, what trickster doesn’t love a good prank?

References and Further Reading

Eris - Theoi Project

Eris - Britannica

Eris -World History Encyclopedia

Eris - Greek Mythology Link

A Guide to Worship Eris Cheat Sheet by screeching-0wl

Theogony by Hesiod

The Iliad by Homer

Works and Days by Hesiod

Subtle Eris Worship by khaire-traveler

[jerseyshoresy]

Shoresy and the team giving reader shit for smoking cigs, and reader shitting on them for dipping?

Reader has OCD so before every game they sit outside in full gear minus skates, having to Tapp the smoke twice on one knee and the lighter twice on the other before lighter, one of the boys sits with reader and notices when they do the tapping they win the game so slowly every member comes and sits out, Sanger too eventually after wondering where the fuck everyone is, even Laura reports on it and each team mate gives the reader a kiss on the head before heading in before the reader flicks the butt like Wayne from LK does before a scrap and that becomes part of the ritual?

I’m SO sorry this took as long as it did for me to write but I really hope you love it!! Thanks for your patience, support, and your great writing ideas!!!🫶❤️

OCD on the Ice

Slice of Life

Cast of Shoresy x gn!reader

Warnings: cussing; I used Google translate for the one sentence of French so please don’t come for me if it’s not correct😅

It was these quiet moments before the game that you absolutely relished; there was nothing better to you than sitting in full hockey gear as you mentally prepared yourself for the exhilarating time on the ice you were about to experience once again. Fiddling with the pack of smokes in your hand, you eventually took one out and lit it, hoping to ease your mind of its racing thoughts. You tapped the cigarette twice on one knee, repeating the same motion with the lighter on the other, as you always did before a game. That was just part of your ritual—you didn’t question why your OCD demanded it since it was one of your easier compulsions to control and you’d like to keep it that way. Finally lighting the smoke, you took a long drag as your worries melted away with the help of the product between your fingers.

“You fuckin’ smokin’ out here like some bum?”

“Fuck off, Shoresy,” you replied as your captain took a seat on the steps next to you. He reached into his pocket and procured his trusty dip, sticking some more in his already full mouth.

You screwed up your nose in disgust. ���That stuff is so nasty.”

“Huh? I couldn’t hear ya through the cloud of smoke you’re blowing, Willie Nelson.”

“Fuck off,” you mumbled again, finishing your cigarette and leaving it in the communal ashtray.

“We ‘avin a get together out here, b’ys?” asked Hitch who was now busy spitting into his dip cup. He looked down and opened his eyes in surprise. “Oh, y/n, didn’t see ya there through the haze! Y’ like a chimney during a Newfie winter!”

You shot him a dirty look while tapping the cigarette twice on your knee, doing the same with the lighter on the other, just as before.

“Dipping’s easier,” Shoresy said, taking note of your actions.

“And convenient,” Goody chimed in on his arrival. He nodded in your direction. “You do that before every game.”

“Hm? Oh, not every game,” you replied sheepishly as more of your teammates poured out of the door to come outside for a tobacco break, “just the ones we win.”

“Ce sont les seuls jeux qui comptent,” Dolo added, the boys all nodding in agreement.

(“Those are the only games that count.”)

The entirety of your team was now outside with you, shooting the breeze while waiting to start shooting the puck.

“You’re such a sight for sore eyes,” gushed Shoresy when Laura made an appearance, having stopped to say hello to the team before heading inside to work.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re such a sap.” The reporter then gestured toward your hands that you were again tapping, this time subconsciously. “Pregame ritual?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Seen plenty of players’ over the years,” she explained. “They’re all different yet they all strangely seem to work.”

You were deep in conversation with Laura when your impromptu hangout session was suddenly interrupted.

“What the fuck is going on out here?”

Your lighter flew out of your hand in surprise and landed softly in a pile of snow that had accumulated by your side.

“Jus’ a team buildin’ exercise with tha b’ys, Coach,” explained Hitch with a fairly toothless smile.

“I’m giving us good press,” you quickly added, jabbing your thumb in Laura’s direction while the blonde gave a little wave to Sanguinet. He took in a deep breath, clearly annoyed, but also relieved to have found his players who’d mysteriously disappeared from the locker room.

“Get your asses inside,” he said, eyeing you and your teammates. “You have a game to win.”

“Good luck in there,” Laura called out to you, entering the barn’s front doors.

“You can go ahead and finish your ritual. We need you at your best tonight,” Shoresy told you. He leaned over and gave your forehead a quick kiss before going back inside to get his skates on.

“Tha’s a nice new ritual we should partake in,” said Hitch. Your brow furrowed in confusion, not knowing what he meant, but your question was answered when you felt his lips on your forehead as well. Wordlessly, one by one, the Sudbury Blueberry Bulldogs kissed your forehead prior to walking back to the locker room. You didn’t know why they did it, but you sure as hell weren’t mad about it. Their sign of affection ignited another burst inside you of energy and enthusiasm for the game—not just tonight, but for the rest of the season.

With one last run through of tapping your lighter and pack of cigarettes against your knees, you stood up, taking a final inhale of the cig in your mouth. Ready to take on whatever the other team was going to throw at you, you flicked the cigarette butt away from you and stood stoically for a moment instead of immediately rushing inside, leading you to feel even more emboldened.

I’m definitely doing this before every game.

[oywcalendar]

Prelude to the One Year War

The following is a master post of events leading directly to the start of the One Year War, particularly the rapid development of new weapons by the Republic of Zeon.

UC 0074

The EFSF convert their vessels' main armaments from shell-firing cannons to mega particle cannons.

In February, Zeonic complete the MS-04 Prototype Zaku.

December, UC 0074

The first Jupiter Energy Fleet returns to the Republic of Zeon, rendering the nation energy independent from the Earth Federation.

Zimmad submits the design of their EMS-04 Zudah to Zeon’s military.

Zeonic completes the first prototype YMS-05 Zaku, later renumbered MS-05A.

UC 0075

Zeonic’s Zaku and Zimmad’s Zudah are trialled against each other to determine which will be adopted as the Zeon military’s mainline mobile suit. The Zaku underperforms compared to the impressive Zudah, but the Zudah’s reactor overheats and explodes, destroying the mobile suit. The Zaku is chosen for its reliability and lower production cost.

In May, Zeonic rolls out the MS-05B Zaku 1, Zeon’s first combat-ready mobile suit.

In July, Zeon commissions the Musai-class space cruiser, the first warship in history designed to carry mobile suits.

UC 0076

In March, Zeon commissions the Gwazine-class battleship, a command ship for their highest-ranking officers.

In April, Zeon begins mass-producing the MS-05B Zaku 1 after widely expanding their mobile suit factories.

In May, Colonel Kycilia Zabi creates the Mobile Training Battalion to train mobile suit pilots and establish mobile suit tactics.

In December, Zeon begins development of specialized mobile suit variants, especially for terrestrial and maritime warfare. A high-performance "R-type" Zaku is also proposed.

UC 0077

In April, the Riah Revolution occurs at Side 6. Zeon military backs the nationalist faction, sending a squad of Zakus to blockade the EFF, helping to secure the revolution’s victory. Side 6 declares independence from the Earth Federation as the Riah Republic.

In August, Zeonic rolls out the MS-06A Zaku 2. Its performance is greatly improved over the Zaku 1, but Kycilia Zabi orders it redesigned to be better equipped for melee combat, expecting that the Federation will eventually develop their own mobile suits.

In September, per Kycilia's orders, Zeonic rolls out the MS-06C Zaku 2.

UC 0078

In January, Zeon begins mass-producing the Zaku 2 C-type, replacing the Zaku 1 as its military mainstay.

In February, the EFF's SCV-X project begins construction of SCV-27A, a carrier for the FF-S3 Saberfish fighter.

In March, the EFF commence the RX Project, though the Federation at large dismisses the threat of Zeon's humanoid weapons and remains skeptical about developing their own.

In September, Zeonic rolls out the MS-06F Zaku 2. This version lacks its predecessor's heavy radiation shielding, making it lighter and in turn granting it better performance. The commander-use S-type is later developed, based on the nimble F-type.

In October, as part of Zeon's preparation for a possible Earth invasion, Zeonic rolls out the MS-06J Zaku 2. It is closely based on the F-type, but lacks rocket thrusters to further reduce its weight.

On October 24, the government of Side 3 rechristens itself as the Principality of Zeon and declares independence from the Earth Federation.

In November, the Principality of Zeon begins national mobilization. Supreme Commander Gihren Zabi divides the military into the Space Attack Force, under Vice Admiral Dozle Zabi, and the Mobile Assault Force, under Vice Admiral Kycilia Zabi.

In December, the Principality of Zeon begins the lengthy production of the Dolos-class, a trio of massive warships capable of carrying a staggering 182 mobile suits.

[tarithenurse]

I see fire

Fandom: D&D 5E/homebrew campaign. Word count: 3584. Contents: Detective work. A/N: I know that this story doesn't garner a lot of attention….but neither did my other works and I'm having fun sharing it with the few who read, so - Enjoy and thank you! Any questions are welcome. Please comment and like and reblog. Let me know if you want a tag. Divider by @firefly-graphics

V

In the bright of day (much to Zilvra’s and Owen’s dismay (for different reasons)) the adventurers have breakfast and Malikka even hands them all some bedrolls that have seen better days. Then Zilvra and her new companions bid the other group and Malikka goodbye and set out along the only road leading north.

The first day of travel is quiet, no one else seems to be using the road and as night falls there are no sight of civilization or camp sites and so the trio seeks out their own little spot which Anvindr unsuccessfully attempts to improve on before he settles down. He is the only one that needs a full night’s sleep – in fact he’s the only one who sleeps while the other trance seated semi-consciously – and so the two women decide that he can combine all bedrolls into one proper and he’s very happy with that.

Like the night before, Zilvra takes first watch, studying the eladrin in her trance as her appearance changes from what it had been. Nothing else happens, and eventually the drow settles in for her trance as Morella wakes up now as a radiant summer’s day.

---

When Anvindr and Zilvra wake up, the are immediately shushed on by Morella who’s stretching out on a patch of moss. She points towards a figure lying on the other side of extinguished campfire and both of her new party members are respectively shocked and weirded out by the fact that it’s a wolf. A fully grown wolf. Even though they try to keep their voices down, the harsh whispered demands for an explanation wake up the creature who departs, leaving the trio without a scratch.

“It was hungry so I gave it some food,” Morella tries to explain happily, “and then I noticed it was hurt – look what was in the wound!” She holds out her hand, allowing the other two to inspect what appears to be metallic fragments. Copper, Zilvra realizes. “He wants us to find his alpha, Dolos, so we can help them.”

Anvindr inspects one of the nuggets. “Maybe it’s to do with that mine Tio mentioned?”

“Wait it what?” Zilvra is more focused on something else: “It talked to you?”

“Yeah.” Morella doesn’t elaborate further.

They have no way of knowing how or where the wolf sustained its injuries and no clue on where to find the rest of the pack either, so the trio resumes their trek along the dusty road.

---

In the evening on the third day after setting out from Oldgarde, they arrive at the first marker of civilization: the abbey of Heartwell Shire. The road leads off to the right past fields of grain and grapes and farms. Heading for the only logical place to ask for directions, Zilvra leads the group towards the abbey’s doors, noticing the sigil of Amaunator above the door: a blazing sun with wavy rays – Amaunator is the god of justice and law, a deity who also had been featured in the capital.

Thankfully, their knocking is answered quickly by a rather young man with Stouvanian armour on who introduces himself as Deputy Willem. The trio shows their credentials, the copper tags, and are welcomed inside with the promise of a place to sleep and a proper meal. Apparently, the place is not only the religious seat of the village but doubles as the local law enforcement’s quarters.

Inside, he guides them through the main room of prayer and on to an office where they meet the Marshal, McBribe, who gets the lay of the land because he’s apparently been expecting some sort of adventuring group from Master Tio. Also he knows about Zilvra’s crime and punishment but thankfully he is kind about it and is keen to fix the bonds so they last longer.

“Fetch Paxton,” he asks Willem who hurries off only to return moments later with a chubby friar in tow who’s huffing and puffing but smiling at least.

“Let’s see, dear,” the rotund man of faith grabs Zilvra’s hands and begins rubbing a sticky ointment on the bonds, wrists, and neck of the drow while muttering an incantation.

The bonds had not been super tight, but the decrease of the circumferences had started to worry the drow so it’s a relief to feel the metal widen.

Paxton smiles jovially. “Now you got four days. You come back to me when it’s needed, alright?” and he makes to leave.

“Actually,” McBribe stops him, “I have some things to attend to still and I’m sure our guests are tired and hungry. Why don’t you show them to sister Anetta?”

“Yes, Marshal. Right this way.”

He’s a kind and chatty guy, explaining about the place as the trio ventures towards the dining hall (an extension of the kitchen). He even admits to things being quite different in Stouvania since the rebellion.

“Which rebellion?” Anvindr asks cautiously.

Paxton blinks. “The Masons’. Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t know seeing as you’re outsiders.” Just then sister Anetta comes over with plates of warm, delicious food and wine to go with it, making the kind friar beam in anticipation. “So...after the war, the Masons worked hard on the repairs of the city and rumour has it that they weren’t getting paid as they should? Either way, there were a lot of protests and the king was killed as he had gone to address the mob.”

“Assassinated or mobbed, you mean?” Zilvra wants to be sure.

“Weeell...” brother Paxton hesitates, “I wasn’t there but it almost seemed...unplanned. Like he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

The trio exchanges surprised looks before Anvindr voices their thoughts: “An accident?”

“It probably wasn’t but the reaction of the Masons afterwards...”

“But they apprehended the murderer, didn’t they?” Morella insists, recalling master Tio’s words.

“Emmet von Kresswell, leader of the Masons.” Paxton shudders. “Anyways! This is hardly relevant to you. Now, we’ve got a nice little corner carved out for us up here but it’s nice to see someone like you three come to help us. I’m sure McBribe will explain it better, but,” he hurries on, “we’ve got some wolf trouble. Good ol’ Daremot Jones is hard pressed when he goes hunting – he’s a tanner – and he’s been pushed out of his normal range.”

“By a copper mine?” Morella asks.

“Uhm, dunno but yeah there’s an old abandoned mine to the north. Why do you think...?”

The eladrin chaotically explains about the wolf she had befriended and even shows the friar the residue which he suggests they take to the local blacksmith, Janus Hammerknuckle.

“Oh? Newcomers?” a man’s voice calls from the threshold of the kitchen.

Looking over the trio sees another friar, more slender and wrinkly but dressed in the same dull robes and soft shoes. Standing up to shake hands, they each greet him amicably though it in Zilvra’s case isn’t enough to prevent him from recoiling at the sight of the bonds.

“This is brother Samuel,” Paxton explains, apparently not having noticed the distaste radiating from his colleague.

Another figure appears in the door but this one they’ve met before: McBribe. He apologizes for having had them waiting, then joins them at the table where both latecomers are served by sister Anette.

“So, Paxton’s telling you about our problems?” Thankfully there’s no malice or annoyance in the marshal’s voice.

Anvindr nods. “The wolves? Yes sir.”

A wave of the hand dismisses the title: “Just McBribe...or marshal if we have to be really formal.” The trio nods. “So, you’re used to hunting wolves?”

None of them are but Morella barely lets that slip before trying a different approach: “Well there’s always been wolves in these lands, right?” She gets an agreeing humph. “So the problem is purely that they’ve shifted their territory but they wouldn’t randomly do that. I bet something’s forced them away from their normal area. That would fit with what our friend said about them being in trouble.”

“Who said that?” McBribe interrupts.

Morella looks surprised at the question but Anvindr is quick to explain to the marshal about the wolf from the previous night.

“Well that sure it...different. Unconventional.” McBribe looks unsure whether to believe the tale or not but then his face clear up in a smile. “Maybe that’s just what we need, though.” He studies the colourful eladrin for a moment. “They used to be near the mine up north...I’d like you to find out what’s going on and then report back to me. It’s just a day out from here.”

“I think Niels has a map, you could ask him to see it,” brother Paxton suggests helpfully.

Apparently brother Niels is the resident bookish friar but before the trio seeks him out, they are first shown to where they can sleep that night: up in the clock tower one of the floors has been refurbished to serve as a guest room with multiple beds despite the open air flowing in through the arches and the bell up above. But it’s neat, dry, and clean and the five beds look comfortable enough.

Taking the chance and setting down their backpacks, the trio descends with the purpose of finding a map to study. The abbey isn’t big and they quickly find a small library, tightly stacked with books and scrolls all tended to by a withered friar who somehow manages to balance a pair of glasses on a very crooked nose.

“Ah, the adventurers,” he creaks, “we’ve been expecting someone of your calibres. How can I help?”

Explaining the basis of the situation is simple enough and he guides them over to the wall behind a loaded desk where a faded map hangs. It shows the shire only, including an icon for the mine that hasn’t been crossed out or erased in spite of the misuse of it.

“Yes it’s been abandoned years ago. Ran dry,” he explains, “there has been no maintenance so it must be in danger of collapsing.” He smiles, eyes unusually big through the lenses of his glasses. Then he looks around. “I thought there were three of you? Where’s the...other colourful one?”

Morella is indeed missing.

A brief search is all it takes to find her sitting crisscross-applesauce with a cat in her lap. The furry acquaintance is purring loudly, clearly happy with the attention and scritches.

“Well, alright then,” brother Niels seems relieved.

“Perhaps, if you have the time, could you help me with a bit of research?” Anvindr asks, causing the old man to kick into gear, eventually finding several books for the air genasi.

Meanwhile, Zilvra has taken to her own perusing. Not daring to pluck out any of the books, she tries to get an idea of what sort of literature is available. Walking, twirling her wooden dagger absentmindedly, she barely realizes in time that the librarian is heading her way with an expectant smile on his thin lips.

“And are you perhaps also thirsting for knowledge?” he creaks.

Uhm. She rubs her neck, feeling the circular bond there and how unfair she found the verdict she now is a slave to. “Do you happen to have a book about the laws of Stouvania?”

His eyes drift to the bonds but he is kind enough to refrain from commenting, just nods and heads down along the row of bookcases, trailing a long finger along the backs of the volumes until he finds what he is looking for: a fat and old but surprisingly pristine volume.

“This is...perhaps not the newest edition so there may have been some specification or addendums that you can’t find in it...but mostly it’s the same.”

“Thank you.” She means it.

There is no chance for her to appeal the case but she sure as hells won’t risk committing another crime...on the other hand she also has no chance of reading and memorizing an entire tome of law. Picking through the book, she does surprisingly find a paragraph explaining the legality of Roofwalking as a means of quickly getting from point A to point B without worrying about such things as trespassing as long as only the roofs were used and balconies remained off limits. Having to concede that Roofwalking is an actual thing, Zilvra deduces that this might have been among the laws that have been amended since the war or the rebellion.

Eventually, both Anvindr and Zilvra are satisfied with their research and so they round up Morella (who only reluctantly leaves the cat behind).

The night passes without incidents.

---

On the morning of the 19th of April, the trio rises to an overcast sky and a blue Morella. They only wake minutes before Anetta comes huffing up the stairs, announcing that the breakfast is almost ready.

After breakfast the trio finds Janus Hammerknuckle further into the village.

The big hands and leather apron is a good indicator for his occupation if the outsiders had been unsure. Great in stature and rough looking, he does seem friendly and helpful enough as he takes a look at the metallic residue, confirming that it’s copper.

“That’s weapon shrapnel...which is weird,” he further informs them, “I used to be a weapon smith and I can promise that copper weapons are a thing of times gone by. Oi! Goddrick!” He calls towards the back room. While waiting for this Goddrick to emerge, he continues: “As I said...I used to make weapons and I was darn good at it if I say so myself. But...I didn’t like it much. There was no joy in only creating something that destroys.”

Another human comes over, sticking a pair of thick gloves up under his arm. His hair is a mess and there’s soot in his face except around his eyes.

“What?” he demands before fully realizing that the trio is present.

Janus holds out the copper shrapnel. “Thinking the same as me?”

There’s a moment of silence where the two boink heads as they both try to study the metal.

“Shrapnel. Weapons?” Goddrick then confirms unknowingly.

Janus turns to the adventurers. “Well, there you have it.” He sprinkles the metal shavings back into Morella’s palms. “No clue who’d still use copper weapons though.”

They thank both men before asking direction to the hunter they were told of, Daremot Jones. Not that there are a lot of options as the village only consists of one street and so they can’t mistake the place after they’ve gotten the description.

Daremot’s there in an open front workshop where several hides are strung out to cure. He seems to have been expecting them, as he immediately sizes them up and then begins to explain about the wolves.

“My grounds, so to speak, have always been to the northwest and while there might have been the occasional track of a stray wolf, it’s never been anything more than that,” he explains in a husky voice. “Now the area’s swarming with them, scaring away the game and they seem to be encroaching on the village too. I’m worried they might be desperate enough to pose a threat to us.”

“They’ve come to the village proper?” Zilvra wonders.

He shakes his head. “Not yet...but there’s little sign of any prey animals left in that neck of the woods so who knows.” Then he sighs. “That’s not even the worst. There’s something out there, sounds like a wolf but much deeper and more growley even as it howls.” He scratches an itch on the arm. “If it is a wolf, then it’s gotta be a mighty beast.”

Morella doesn’t seem deterred, smiling gently at the man before turning to her new friends. “Sounds like a job for us.”

“So...both the mine and the wolves?” Anvindr checks and both women nod. “Alright then!”

Bidding the hunter goodbye, the trio heads north out of the village, their first destination being the mine.

---

“It’s really quiet,” Morella whispers.

They’ve been walking for several hours, following a mostly overgrown path through the forest.

“Mmm,” Zilvra agrees, “I don’t like it...the Topside is always noisy with birds and wind and whatnot but this...this is eerie.”

She silently draws her rapier, noting how the others follow her example.

Advancing further, it’s not long before the sharp-eyed Morella spots an odd structure that looks a bit like a rocky hollow or den. Sneaking closer, the stealthy drow gets near enough to see that the structure isn’t wholly natural but more interesting than that: it is occupied. A loud snoring emanates from a dwarfish creature. Zilvra recognizes it as a duergar.

The duergar are cousins to the dwarves but lives in the Underdark, deep underground. They are among the chief enemies of the drow so apart from being surprised at seeing one Topside, Zilvra also has an instant dislike of it and is about to try to communicate as much to her new friends when Anvindr decides to move closer, snapping a branch loudly by stepping on it – he hadn’t seen it lying there but the duergar definitely hears it and bolts upright. Already speeding up to a sprint at the sight of the blue male, the duergar leaves its little hideout through the backdoor where Zilvra has made it to.

“Drop the weapons,” she motions to the crude gear with her rapier.

The duergar drops the things but says nothing. It, a male with grey skin and black hair and beard, eyes her warily and its gaze grows anxious when Anvindr joins the silent stand-off. Shifting it weight from one leg to another, it’s only brought to hesitate by Zilvra’s warning sound for a moment, though, before it takes of screaming and howling through the woods in a northern direction, leaving the three adventurers behind.

Calming down enough to check out the outpost, as they theorize it is, Anvindr finds nothing more than the axe and shield the duergar had dropped as ordered. And a mudball.

“They eat those,” Zilvra comments, “I think.”

What is interesting is the gear: both items have a rough coating of copper dust on the edges, perfect for botching up a wound even more.

“Looks like what was in the wolf’s wound,” Anvindr notices, causing the females to nod in agreement.

Then they set out, moving quietly so as not to step into an ambush or similar but nothing seems out of the ordinary for the first hour which is when they reach yet another of those crudely constructed stone shelters.

“Can’t see anything from here,” Morella is stretching her neck to get a better look.

Zilvra nods, silently drawing her weapon. “Moving in, hang on.”

A moment later she can call out to the others that while the outpost has seen recent use, there’s no one now.

There’s not much sense in lingering and the trio continues.

---

Eventually, they reach the outliers of the mountains that stretch into the forest like chubby fingers. A little ways up ahead, they see the forest come to an abrupt halt, old stumps mingling with younger trees indicating that nature even has reclaimed some of its lost space and what lies beyond is the mountain range that the trio had seen on the friar’s map, known as The Spine of Heartwell.

Another thing worth of note that the odd group now can see is the mine and an odd structure outside of it: stones and rocks have been piled to form a crude but effective barricade. No one had mentioned anything about such a structure and Zilvra suggests that it might be the use of whoever uses the mine now – duergar maybe – although there’s no sign of any life at the moment.

“Should we go in?” Morella suggests, ready to face anything.

The other two are more reluctant, though.

“Not without knowing what’s in there.” Zilvra has plenty of experience scoping out places in her past but there’s no reason to mention that now.

It doesn’t take long for them to figure out what to do and they manage to find an agreeable camp spot where they can keep an eye on the mine throughout the night. In the morning, they’ll go west to the wolves, hopefully.

---

“Guys,” Morella whispers, beckoning her friends over to the watch spot, “guys look.”

It’s early in the evening, just about dusk after a few hours of nothing exciting.

Joining her, both Zilvra and Anvindr quickly see what she’s referring to: several duergar have exited the mine and are starting their work on shaping the stones as they want to enforce the barricade. A patrol sets out towards the forest, disappearing between the trees and underbrush in a southern direction not far from the well hidden camp.

Despite the duergars’ love for darkness (like anything else in the Underdark) they do need some light and so set up torches to work by as night falls, unwittingly allowing the trio to have a clear view of them moving about in and out of the mine.

Later, when Anvindr and Morella are just about to settle down for a rest, rustling is heard just beyond the camp: the patrol is returning empty handed and by some miracle, they don’t notice the people watching them.

“I’ll wake you if anything happens,” Zilvra promises as she prepares to take the first watch.

Nothing does happen however and eventually the two of elven kind switch roles, allowing the drow to trance and the now golden/yellow eladrin to observe the busy dark dwarves.

[viejospellejos]

El jurado declara culpable al anciano que disparó a un ladrón que entró en su finca.

El tribunal del jurado que ha juzgado a Pepe Lomas, de 81 años, lo ha estimado culpable de un delito de homicidio con dolo eventual por la muerte de Nelson David Ramírez, hondureño de 35 años al que disparó tras sorprenderlo dentro de su propiedad.

Los miembros del jurado, quienes se ha pronunciado a favor del veredicto de culpabilidad con siete votos a favor y dos en contra, han considerado además que en los hechos concurrieron el eximente incompleto de anomalía o alteración psíquica y el atenuante de confesión.

Tras el veredicto, el fiscal, que había pedido 12 años y medio de prisión, ha rebajado su petición a seis años de cárcel y ha solicitado que Lomas sea sometido a un tratamiento médico externo "para tratar la anomalía psíquica que incompletamente ha estimado el jurado". La acusación particular, por su parte, que reclamaba 25 años por asesinato, ha modificado su petición a siete años y medio de cárcel y ha mantenido la indemnización solicitada para los familiares de Nelson David: 236.000 euros.

Los hechos se produjeron la madrugada del 1 de agosto de

2021. Lomas, de 77 años entonces, se despertó sobre las

02.30 horas y se dispuso a comprobar que estaba funcionaba correctamente el riego del arbolado de su finca, Valdelobo, ubicada en una zona apartada de la ciudad. Descubrió entonces que alguien había entrado en el recinto y, según su declaración, cogió la escopeta que tenía cargada en el dormitorio y salió al corral armado con ella. En un extremo del patio, divisó "un bulto de forma cónica" y disparó a uno y otro lado de la figura sin saber que se trataba de una persona, siempre según su declaración. Regresó a su habitación, cargó el arma de nuevo, y disparó una tercera vez.

Nelson David, del que constaban 36 antecedentes en la Policía Nacional y nueve en la Guardia Civil, recibió, según testificaron peritos y forenses, dos disparos. Uno, a la altura del hombro, que hizo que se volteara, y el segundo en la espalda.

[teamfortresstwo]

The reason Corvus didn’t die immediately was because he was under the control of dolos’ skill. Corvus and dolos had a deal that if Corvus died, dolos would force him to keep acting as though alive, basically letting them puppet their own corpse, until alastor had been stopped from being a threat.

And then Corvus died, and they just got up. Completely agony, but their body wasn’t allowed to die entirely. That would be against the rules of the game. And then they won. And Corvus said “You can stop, end the game now. It’s over”. And dolos didn’t want to let his friend die.

After that, we see Corvus disappear, presumably still forced to live, but after they don’t come back for maybe a year in game, it’d be fair to assume they eventually died somehow. Till they do show up again.

In the time they were technically dead, they got extremely extensive surgery to practically piece back together their internal organs and flesh, till they could logically be alive, then their heart was restarted. And they were alive again. Technically never died. Technically stayed dead for maybe 10 months unable to decompose or die permanently. And the ‘death’ forced awareness no matter the state of the body - Anaesthesia wouldn’t have worked on them. In small surgeries at a time, they had their body sewn back together till they could actually legally call themself alive again.

Yep 👍

Oh that is … that’s fucked I don’t - Christ on a fucking stick, Dolos geez….

And ??? Corvus bestie have you considered just….. I don’t know maybe don’t threaten someone with a knife next time you need to de-escalate a situation??

Fuck though…… that’s ….. I feel really bad for the guy ….

[mywifeleftme]

316: Toto Bissainthe // Chante Haïti

Chante Haïti Toto Bissainthe 1977, Arion

“These songs are mostly slave songs taken from the Vodou cult. They speak of the quotidian, of the suffering of exile, and the desire of Africa, not as a geographical place but as a mythical land of freedom. They express their resistance and their refusal: resistance to the colonizer, refusal of his politics, of his religion, of his culture, of his language.”

So begins Toto Bissainthe’s statement on the rear of Chante Haïti, her 1977 collaboration with a small combo of Antillean folk and French jazz musicians: vocalists Marie-Claude Benoît and Mariann Mathéus; percussionists Akonio Dolo and Mino Cinélu (Miles Davis, Weather Report, Gong); Patrice Cinélu on acoustic guitar; and Beb Guérin on the double bass. The songs indeed fuse the Vodou ritual of her native Haiti with the European avant garde sounds of her adopted milieu of Paris, where she had moved to pursue acting and found herself a de facto exile due to the political situation back home. Bissainthe had become a prominent figure in the French theatre, performing in new plays by Beckett and Genet and co-founding Les Griots, France’s first Black theatre company; by the late ‘70s, she was an acclaimed recording artist to boot. Her accomplishments made her a prominent figure in the Haitian diaspora and her activist streak is apparent throughout Chante Haïti, explicitly linking the grief and yearning for liberation in these traditional ceremonials with the country’s contemporary struggles.

Like many songs on the album, the Creole words of opener “Soley danmbalab” mourn the people's estrangement from Mother Africa, a crossing which can neither be reversed or repeated. It begins like a field recording, Bissainthe’s soulful, Miriam Makeba-esque voice set to a chorus of rattles and bells and gurgling masculine whispers. As the song develops, her melody wends like a stream through the dense jungle of percussion, dissonant bass, and counterpoint chanting. Eventually, Mino Cinélu’s arrangement becomes more free, the male chorus imploring the Oungan (a male Vodou priest) to intercede with the creator on the people’s behalf as the tune breaks down into an increasingly abstract bass and drum interplay, while the three female singers exchange birdlike vocal improvisations.

“Ibo Ogoun (Variations)��� is even wilder, evoking a trance ritual, the spirits speaking in many tongues through the celebrants as they seek to summon Ogun, God of Iron and War, to lead the battle of liberation. One of the male percussionists times his tanbou beat so that it hits just as he sings certain notes, creating the illusion that he voice has suddenly lurched down an octave for a moment, almost like a DJ freaking a vocal sample. Bissainthe, Mathéus, and Benoît match the intense drumming with some crazy syncopations, sometimes talking, sometimes hissing and whispering, sometimes wailing and ululating.

Most of the album takes on a more meditative tact, anchored by Guérin’s plangent double bass. On the smoky “Papadanbalab,” an entreaty to the serpent creator Damballa to bear witness to the penury of his people, Bissainthe sways over a slinky jazz bass line, Patrice Cinélu adding mellow acoustic fusion licks. The song seems like a brief stopover in a Parisian club. But even the less overtly intense tracks pack plenty of musical interest. “Lamize pa dous” has this hypnotic rhythm that sounds exactly like a micro house beat—in fact, the first thing it made me think of was Ricardo Villalobos’ Alcachofa, or Animal Collective at their campfire ravingest. The song is about the moment of surrender to death, the winnowing of time represented by water encroaching on all sides, the realization too late that “we spend our lives trying to fill the sea with stones.”

Listening to a record like this, especially in light of Bissainthe’s note on the back excoriating the colonialist ethnographer who reduces Haitian folklore to “excitement and violence,” requires at least a smidgen of awareness from the white listener that Chante Haïti is not intended for them. The traditions it engages with are of deep spiritual significance to many Haitians, both in the ‘70s and today. But for those inside and outside the culture who are willing to approach it with respect, Chante Haïti is a fascinating fusion of Antillean and European musics, and a peek into a profound and secret history.

316/365

[askkanjohtrio]

Art by @duthea

Name: Kenneth Kaneko

Age: 20 as of April 1st, 2024

Birthday: April 1st

Height: 6'0" | 1.83 m

Ethnicity: Half Kantonian and half Johtonian

Sexuality: Gay

Gender: Boy

Appearance: Ginger hair that extends to the middle of his back, bangs brushed to the right, golden eyes. He has the lichtenberg scar that extends from the tip of his pointer finger on his right hand, across the arm, top of his chest and throughout his whole back, and up to his left cheek.

Personality: He's talkative to those he is comfortable with, passionate about his interests, and protective of his loved ones. He's stubborn, with a massive inferiority complex distrust of most people. He compares himself to his brother and cousin, holds high expectations for himself, and has low self-esteem. Despite the way he's been treated by society, he still attempts to help those in need. He tends to put others before himself.

Backstory: Ken is Hibiki's older brother and Red's cousin. He got along well with both of them and would defend them from bullies.

When he was 7, he went out in a thunderstorm, getting struck by lightning and almost dying, causing him to develop electrophobia and killing his original dream of wanting to be a technician.

When Red disappeared and his brother say their dad die, he prioritized Hibiki's wellbeing, ignoring his own worries about his cousin and bottling up his emotions about it.

When Hibiki went on his journey, Ken befriended Galena. Galena was homeless at the time and didn't like people after being abandoned by her father, Giovanni. Ken taught her how the world isn't so bad and let her stay in his home.

When Hibiki became Champion, Ken started getting compared to his brother by the public. Not long after that, he'd befriend and dated Dolos Satya, who used him as a way to get close to Red and Hibiki, treating Ken awfully when no one else was around. It took Ken a year to finally stand up for himself and end the relationship.

However, it left a mark inside of him. Ken no longer trusted people who tried to befriend him after that, getting defensive and acting hostile to keep himself safe.

He eventually found a love for baking after Hibiki kept prodding to stop trying to battle like him when it's obvious Ken dislikes battling a lot.

Currently, Ken goes to Naruva Academy, where he's learning more about baking. He still distrusts most people and has a lot of baggage, but maybe in the future, he'll be able to heal.

[madame-cookie]

Dolos Lernae (he/him) Rank: Champion

Dolos Lernae was a devout follower of Death. In the Catacombs beneath Ashford, he tended to the dark arts with his fellow occult, relishing the scriptures of both Dhuum the Reaper, and Grenth the Vengeful.

As the infamous Bonfaaz Burntfur began to gain steady ground in the repetitive assault against the mighty walls of Ascalon, the shaken King Adelbern called to order all capable and talented citizens of his kingdom to rally to its defense at the Northern Wall.

“I won’t do it,” he slammed the tome shut and returned it to its place on the shelf above his desk, littered with alchemical vials and scribbling, “and if the King wants to send all of his merry men to come and round me and mine up from the hollow earth we so gladly tend custody, I will personally see to it that the Crown is made aware just how trivial the militant edicts of state are to the coven of darkness and ice.” Saying this, the necromancer produced and unfurled a roll of parchment, covered in sigils denoting magical natures and interactions. His claws finger traced over the patterns illustrated between conduits. “And it’s all here…time will make Winter of all this fire. At the fringes of Death, we will easily make our homes.” As he carved the symbols into the casting circle of his study, the chunk of Bloodstone writhed away at the confines of the magical prism it was imprisoned in. It laid atop his desk, ready to be the catalyst in a dark and forbidden ritual.

A great thundering explosion from above sent streams of dust and debris instantly raining down onto the scrolls and tomes of Dolos’ study. “What?! They’re attacking the Abbey! The King shouldn’t have even received the missive of our refusal yet, this doesn’t make sense!” Struggling to still his breathing, Dolos attempted to assess the initial damages while the ceiling rumbled with subsequent shaking. As he carried a bag of scrolls to the staircase leading out, the scarlet gleam of the Bloodstone shard caught his eyes, and he scrambled to retrieve it. It was then that the Searing would hit the Abbey directly, it’s magical burning missiles collapsing the majority of the Catacombs and its contents into the hollowed out earth beneath.

“Grenth… be with me… I’m still alive.” A cursory examination of the grievous wounds nearly bisecting the young man would solemnly elaborate on this technically-correct assumption. “Damn you…King Adelbern,” his breathe was hoarse with blood already begun to dry from the constant snowfall of dust from above, when he noticed the rain. Blood, dripping from the cracks in the infrastructure. He turned his head over, realizing he had been knocked to the floor atop his casting circle, the Bloodstone smashed and muddied underneath incalculable debris already. The blood teemed at his fingertips and he felt a surge of willpower overcome the encroaching ice. “Ascalon… a kingdom of the dead…”

A perversion of a ritual intended to bring prolonged life to dozens of devout necromancers has kept Dolos alive for centuries, slowly healing from his wounds, and transforming in the darkness. After two hundred and fifty years, he was able to dig around freely in the rubble, eventually finding the Bloodstone shard he intended to use for his ritual. Sinking his teeth into it, he drained the wicked magic, starving for anything in a world of absence. He was able to survive off of it for nearly three decades before emerging from the ground and wandering into the countryside.

A combination of necrotic ritual and Bloodstone mutation has made Dolos’ body unnaturally dense and solid. Additionally, his teeth are summarily fanged, despite no longer requiring to eat. Being underground for so long has made him sensitive to the bright light, and so he prefers to travel in darkness. While already being talented in necromancy as a human, the craft now comes understandably natural as a creature of death himself. He wanders the streets of human towns and settlements between Divinity’s Reach and Lion’s Arch, hunting for surviving White Mantle loyalists, hungry for the Bloodstone they could possess.

[gazetadoleste]

MP responsabiliza indiciados pelas mortes de incêndio em pousada no RS

O Ministério Público do Rio Grande do Sul (MPRS), apontou nesta terça-feira (28), que os indiciados assumiram o risco de incêndio, sobre o caso na pousada Garoa, ocorrido em Porto Alegre, em abril de 2024. No entendimento do promotor de justiça criminal houve elementos de dolo eventual nas mortes. A hospedaria era destinada a pessoas em situação de vulnerabilidade social e apresentava problemas…

[informativoar]

Caso Maradona: con la enfermera como imputada, en febrero habrá una nueva audiencia

En esta nueva audiencia se fijará la fecha para que comience el juicio por jurados populares. La enfermera está imputada por homicidio con dolo eventual. Leer más

[portalg37]

PCMG conclui inquérito sobre morte após superdosagem de medicamento

A Polícia Civil de Minas Gerais (PCMG) concluiu as investigações sobre a morte de um homem, de 69 anos, ocorrida em 23 de agosto deste ano, após a administração inadequada de um medicamento para tratamento de câncer. Um enfermeiro e uma médica foram indiciados por homicídio com dolo eventual. O caso ocorreu em um hospital de Belo Horizonte, local onde a vítima estava internada para tratar um…

[germanlarioja]

Condenan a Paul Waidatt (h) a 9 años de prisión por homicidio en siniestro vial

La Justicia de Chilecito dictó una condena de 9 años de prisión efectiva contra Paul Waidatt (h) por el homicidio simple de Carlos Cordero Robles, bajo la figura de dolo eventual, y lesiones graves a Sebastián Vergara. También deberá indemnizar con $127 millones a la familia de la víctima y $42 millones al sobreviviente. La Justicia de Chilecito condenó a Paul Waidatt (h) a 9 años de prisión…

[pacosemnoticias]

Prisão efetiva para homens que balearam mulher em Espinho

O Tribunal da Feira condenou a penas de prisão de seis anos e seis anos e 10 meses dois homens, de 25 e 31 anos, por terem baleado uma mulher em Espinho, no distrito de Aveiro.

Os factos ocorreram na tarde de 28 de março de 2023, num bairro social em Espinho, devido a um diferendo cujo motivo o tribunal não conseguiu apurar.

Durante a leitura do acórdão, a juíza presidente disse que resultou provado que foram efetuados vários disparos de arma de fogo sendo três deles na direção de uma mulher e do seu filho, um dos quais atingiu a progenitora na coxa, mas não ficou provada a intenção de matar.

"Cremos não se ter provado de modo suficientemente cabal que os arguidos ao atuarem no modo descrito quiseram diretamente matar os ofendidos", afirmou a magistrada.

O autor dos disparos foi condenado a uma pena única de sete anos e 10 meses de prisão por dois crimes de homicídio na forma tentada com dolo eventual, um dos quais agravado pelo uso de arma, dois crimes de coação e dois crimes de detenção de arma proibida.

No entanto, este arguido viria a beneficiar do perdão de um ano de prisão, devido à lei da Amnistia por ocasião da visita do Papa a Portugal, em 2023, ficando com uma pena única de seis anos e 10 meses de prisão.

O outro arguido foi sentenciado com um cúmulo jurídico de seis anos de prisão por dois crimes de homicídio na forma tentada com dolo eventual, um dos quais agravado pelo uso de arma, e dois crimes de coação.

Além da pena de prisão, foram ainda condenados no pagamento de uma indemnização de 15 mil euros aos ofendidos.

A juíza explicou ainda que o acórdão teve um voto de vencido de um dos membros do tribunal coletivo.

Um dos arguidos está a cumprir uma pena de prisão de seis anos à ordem de outro processo e o outro irá continuar em prisão preventiva até se esgotarem todos os prazos para poder recorrer da decisão.

Segundo a acusação do Ministério Público (MP), os dois arguidos pretendiam matar um homem por motivos relacionados com dividas de tráfico de droga ou relacionamentos amorosos, mas acabaram por balear a mãe deste numa perna, quando ela os enfrentou com uma vassoura para defender o filho.

Quando ocorreram estes factos, um dos arguidos encontrava-se já em fuga às autoridades, por ter violado a obrigação de permanência na habitação a que estava sujeito no âmbito de um processo em que era acusado pela prática de crimes de roubo agravado e ofensa à integridade física qualificada.