#I wish i put the camera closer because now none of those details on woods and planks are not visible T_T

[blameitbandit]

A Stardew Valley Cabin inspired snowy scene 🌲. Im sure it would be best to post it on Christmas ❄️❄️ but still not too late, or maybe :D. I know i could make it less dark but turn up that brightness ☀️.

Credits:

[themadauthorshatter]

Time to give this series more angst, and to make Henry even more of a dick; this is Charles's story now.

If you haven't read the previous parts, they are right here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 and revision

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Really quick recap: With Charles captured, Henry tries to persuade Charles into gibing up the sapphire. Upon resistance, however, Charles is left alone, and in a race against time.

LET'S JUST DIVE BACK IN!!!

We start on Earth as a child, man, and woman are outside and setting up a picnic near some woods.

TV perspective, we see the child hold the basket as his parents set up the blanket, one of them holding a cooler for drinks and condiments, the two talking, but we can't exactly hear what they're saying.

The man talks about drills and finally having a day off, to which the woman agrees, and then she sighs that it's good they have a day to themselves and their son.

Speaking of, the woman tells him to join them, now that the blanket's set up and cooler's open.

He does and they begin.

TV perspective again, we see from the child's perspective that these two adults are smiling and hear their words more clearly, especially when the woman places a hand on her son's head.

"What do you think, baby? Wanna help me throw Daddy in the water?"

"Try it. I'll pull you both in with me." The man turns to the boy, a smile on his face. "Don't give her ideas, Hawk, she's pure evil."

"How dare you," the woman laughs back. "He's my son, too, you a-"

"Hey. Language, he's just a kid."

"Right, and a future pilot like his parents."

We cut to see the child grown up, said child being Charles as he looks between his parents, confused and concerned.

"Mom? Dad?"

As they smile at him, an explosion goes off behind them and fire raises, coming closer by the second.

They don't notice, but it's a good thing Charles does.

"Mom! Dad! BEHIND YOU!" Charles shouts as he reaches out to them.

Too late, because the fire engulfs them both, but simply blows past Charles like wind or fog.

With the fire gone, smoke rises, but shows Calvin and Konrad, the two smiling with Charles in between them.

"Thanks for taking the fall for us," Calvin says. "Really we don't know what we'd do without you."

Charles looks between them and gives a confused look to them both. "What!?"

"Yeah," Konrad replies. "Better you take the fall than us. Who knows who would've lost it, if it were us instead of you."

"Captain Canterbury, for one," Calvin states.

"And the General."

"And Grit. She would've been sooo mad."

"And Rupert. Don't forget him."

Charles covers his ears and crouches down, saying to himself, "You're dreaming. This is just a dream. You've just gotta wake up."

"They're not wrong," Charles hears Rupert say, his friend appearing through the smoke-fog and standing over him. "If it had been them instead of you, I'd make you wish the General just put you in an orphanage instead of letting you join the government."

"Come on," Charles murmurs as he lightly slaps himself. "Come on, wake up already!"

Rupert reaches down and grabs Charles, pulling him up until they're practically breathing the same air.

The thing is, though, Charles isn't looking at Rupert, per se. He sees Galeforce instead, and what the General says to him:

"If it had been you instead of them, none of this would've happened."

"STOP!" Charles shouts as he pushes Galeforce away from him and runs. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP!"

Charles suddenly stops in his tracks when he sees Henry, who's standing in front of the military base as it burns.

"Don't have anywhere else to go." Henry holds out his hand, smirking. "Might as well come with. I really have missed you."

Charles tries to run again, but Henry grabs him and holds onto him as the fire grows and bursts behind them.

"WAKE UP!"

We cut to Charles as he's dropped to the floor, the cuffs still on and Charles waking up, sweaty, shaking, and hyperventilating. Don't worry, he didn't land on his wounds.

He looks around, feeling worse when he remembers where he is, who he spoke to, and what they were talking about.

Charles groans and sits back against the wall, a little tired of just about all of this.

He does notice he's free and runs toward the panel to open the door, but that hope dies when he sees the cuffs are still on his hands. He tries getting the panel to activate using both his nose and togue before giving up and kicking and beating at the door.

"No. No. No. No! No! NO!"

Charles sits against the wall and closes his eyes tightly, trying not to fully break down.

It doesn't help that the withdrawal of medicine has started and the hum of the orbital station is getting a little too loud, and Henry comes in with some breakfast in a tray; he's not sending in anyone else because he doesn't want Charles attacking them.

Charles does notice Henry, but ignores him, because he's not in the mood for dealing with him.

Henry sits across from him and sets the tray down. "I would've waited until you woke up on your own, but you looked like you REALLY needed some help."

Charles only glares at him.

Henry sighs at this and moves closer to Charles, bringing the tray with him before taking a piece of food on a fork and holding it in front of Charles, who cringes away from it; he has nothing against scrambled eggs, but he does when Henry serves them.

Henry's amused look drops instantly. "None of it is poisoned in any way, if that's what you're thinking. Now open up. You need to eat."

Henry goes to feed Charles again, but the pilot presses himself against the wall as much as he can.

Henry, done with this, grabs Charles by the jaw and makes him eat some breakfast; it's pancakes, for anyone curious.

Charles tries kicking him away, which works, but Henry claps a hand onver his mouth before Charles can spit out his food.

The two glare at each other, but Charles also holds up his hand, which still have the cuffs on them.

"Look. You're going to be here for a while. I don't know when you ate last, so eat. And I don't trust you yet, so I'll feed you."

Charles, more pissed than ever, remains resolute, wanting very much to spit out that piece of pancake in his mouth.

Henry has none of that and uses his other hand to plug Charles's nose.

It's incentive for Charles to eat his food and let Henry feed him.

After a while, when the plate's empty, Henry speaks back up.

"You know, this is the quietest I've ever seen you, since we met."

Charles inhales sharply and trembles a little bit, trying to talk.

Henry leans forward and turns his ear toward him.

Charles struggles, but eventually forces out, "Medicine."

Henry has a confused look on his face before realizing what Charles means, standing up, and taking the pill bottle out of his inside coat pocket. "This medicine?" He asks, being a smug prick.

Charles races toward Henry, who steps back and watches Charles fall back down.

TV/Camera perspective, we see that Charles's eyes keep darting to the seams/bonds in the metal floor, to some scuff marks from shoes, to the details on the cuffs, like the seams, bolts, and even the metal around his wrists. We also hear the hum of the orbital station get lower, especially when Henry walks toward him and kneels down in front of him, reaching his hand to him.

Out of the perspective Henry lifts Charles's chin up, so they can see each other better.

"Sorry, Charles. As much as I like our conversations, I think I like you better like this." Henry holds up the pills again and leans closer to Charles. "Unless you know where the sapphire is."

Charles only stares at the medicine and reaches for it, forgetting the cuffs, and Henry holds them further away.

"Please," Charles says, just above a whisper.

Henry only holds the bottle close again and shakes it. "Where can we find it, Charles? Just tell me, and I'll let you take as many as you want."

Charles can only stare between the bottle and Henry, who's patiently waiting for an answer.

"Please."

Henry sighs, shakes his head, and stands back up, Charles watching in absolute despair.

"I'll leave you alone for a little while to rethink your answer."

Charles watches Henry, trying to protest as he leaves.

Tv/Camera perspective, we follow Henry leave Charles, who yells for him even as the door shuts.

Henry walks until he's in the Communications area, where he meets Burt.

"Oh, hey, Chief."

'Hello, Burt,' Henry signs. 'Is the message ready?'

Burt nods. "Yeah. Got the message and video ready. Just, uh, waiting on your call."

Henry examines the file, and the video feed that's attached, and nods as he smiles. 'Send it.'

CUT TO EARTH IN THE MILITARY BASE!

Galeforce is training via target practice and trying not to think about Charles being in danger, even though his parent instincts are going absolutely crazy.

That's when new character to this whole thing Victoria Grit comes in and reports to Galeforce that they just recieved a message from the Toppat Clan.

Galeforce follows her and meets up with Rupert, the twins, and Canterbury as they open the file.

It's a video that shows Charles in his cell as he sleeps, hanging by his wrists.

Galeforce is triggered instantly, while everyone else is highly disturbed.

They watch as Charles has his nightmare, as he's given breakfast by Henry, and has his medicine taken away from him, even when Henry leaves.

Galeforce is silent and trembling with pure rage as Rupert growls, "That bastard," and Canterbury mutters, "Junky," under his breath.

"Charles is attention deficited," Victoria explains. "Without those pills, he's about as functional as a plastic compass."

"Why do it, though?" Konrad asks. "Why take the pills, if Charles needs them that much?"

"Read what His Majesty added," Calvin replies as he points to the message attached.

'GIVE IT BACK'

Galeforce barely registers what the soldiers elaborate on a plan, instead watching Charles on the floor of his cell, trying to cover his ears and remain calm.

"Hang in there, Charlie. We'll get you out of there."

[shesneverleavingme]

My Last Past Life

Pricefield Week Day Five: First time/Future

Day 1 * Day 2 * Day 3 * Day 4

The house hadn’t changed. Not really. When we drove up to it, the only considerable difference I noticed was that the entire structure was now the dark blue that had remained unfinished in my previous timeline. Chloe’s hair seemed almost neon in comparison to its dark shade, even though she had been the one to pick the color originally. I stared out the window in awe at it even after Chloe parked in the driveway. The grind of the gears as Chloe finished driving hit my ears, followed by the sound of the engine shutting off and whirring to a chugging stop.

“You never seen a house before, hippie?” Chloe asked.

“It’s... Blue.”

“Uh, yeah... Been that way for like... three or four years, dude,” she responded. I pulled my gaze away to look at her and finally our eyes met for the first time since that awkward moment at the train station. We held the stare for a few seconds before we both looked away. She cleared her throat and then said, “C’mon, all our stuff’s in my room.”

I followed Chloe into the house. It looked almost exactly the same, just with a few updates. New wallpaper. New paint. It still smelled like eggs and cinnamon, like a home that was actually lived and cooked in. It was even neater than I remembered it. I didn’t have enough time to look as Chloe was already half-way up the stairs, stomping as she went. I put my palm on the banister and looked out into the living room, or what little I could see down the hallway, before I started to follow Chloe.

I had taken this path many times since my childhood, but this time it was different. I was walking towards where the history of my life laid now, a history I would never be able to touch even though I had technically lived it. It was one of the uncomfortable parts of time-travel… I had to do it when I had first saved Arcadia Bay, too…

“Max?”

Chloe’s curious voice called out and I snapped back to reality. I had reached the top of the stairs and Chloe’s door was open. It was an inviting entrance, not that it had ever been a hostile one for me, and I swallowed a little before I walked in and looked around.

It was messy, sure, like usual, but…

Warm.

It was warm.

There weren’t as many punk posters on the walls. Expletive-ridden graffiti had been replaced with beautiful, macabre drawings. They weren’t my style, but Chloe made them intricate and detailed, holding a dark complexity that caught my eye even if I had wanted to look away. I looked at them and found my eyes tracing along the lines on Chloe’s walls. The drawings bled into each other, sometimes disrupted by stylized text, and covered her walls from floor to ceiling. “Oh my dog…” I breathed. I couldn’t help but be surprised and in awe at the display. I knew that Chloe was a talented artist, as talented as she was intelligent, but I felt like I was being hit with this knowledge all over again…

I heard Chloe chuckle behind me. “I think you said the same thing when you saw that the first time, too,” she explained. She seemed to be in a little bit of a better mood now that I was letting myself get comfortably lost within her atmosphere. I looked over my shoulder to face her and saw she was standing in the center of her room, hands deep in her pockets and shoulders pressed back as if she were lounging on air. “You finally came to get me because it’d been like a day since I had answered you and you were pissed. Then you came in here, ready to chew my ass out, and you saw this and didn’t say a word for a looooong time.”

I felt a little bit of heat in my face. “Oh, great, so I’m one of those…” I said, grumbling. For all the dreaming I had done over the past few weeks without Chloe, I hadn’t ever depicted myself as the crazy girlfriend who couldn’t survive on her own without her partner for more than twenty-four hours…

Chloe cleared her throat. When I looked back up I saw how she was looking away from me and scratching a little at the back of her neck. I wasn’t sure why she was nervous, but her tell gave it away every time… “So… Uh… It’s all over here…” She gestured to the opposite wall, near her closet and hidden behind her door, with her hand before she slid it back into her pocket.

I pulled the door away from the wall and let it guide itself to close. Where Chloe’s blue desk had been was suddenly empty space, and all over the walls were pictures. My pictures. At least ten or eleven packages worth if not more. My heart sunk at the sheer amount of monetary value on the wall, but it didn’t last long as I was drawn into each photo and stared at them.

Big smiles. They were everywhere, in every photo. The photos ranged from our early teenage years to more recent, but the smiles were still the same. We were bathed in sunlight, in moonlight, red-eyed from the flash, and picture-perfect. None of the pictures were the same, but they all inspired the same feeling within my chest.

“Oh my dog…” I repeated a little softer this time. I heard Chloe’s boots walk softly over the wood floors but I didn’t look at her.

“Do you …Remember any of this?” she asked me hesitantly. She seemed to know the answer before even asking the question, but there was an amount of hopefulness in her voice that made me wish I didn’t have to tell her the truth.

I slowly shook my head and then turned back to look at her. “I… It’s like I can see that it’s us… But I feel like I’m seeing everything for the first time… Like we made it up…” I didn’t want to tell her, particularly because her face became visibly distraught for a few seconds like I anticipated. She looked up at the wall again and then stepped a little closer to my back before she pointed at a photo.

“This was the first snow after you moved to Seattle,” she said, “It was the first time I didn’t have you here, and I missed you so much that your parents sent you here for a week over Christmas break. We stayed up late and stayed outside all day making snowmen and having snowball fights.” The picture she pointed at was of us, standing in the snow and grinning up at the camera. Chloe’s arms were wrapped tightly around my body as if she’d pick me up, but I looked like I couldn’t be happier.

“And this one…” Chloe said, pointing to another, “Was a few days before you started Blackwell… You came early to spend the last few days of summer with me.” We were sitting on the pier near the beach, and the flash was barely enough to light us up as ghosts against a dark navy sky. It was easily one of the crummier pictures on the wall, especially considering we looked like we were possessed, but I could see the emotional appeal of it.

I scanned the photos again and saw one near the top. Chloe was kissing my cheek and I was laughing, my eyes closed, clearly having been surprised just as my finger triggered the shutter. “And that one…?” I asked, pointing to it.

I felt Chloe tense up behind me. She had gotten very close without me realizing it. I was practically pressed against her now. “That… Was when I came to see you in Seattle the summer after you left… Technically our first date, since your parents would let us go out alone…” she explained, quietly, “We spent the entire day around the city and we took this right after we got onto the Space Needle…” My hand came down slowly and I rested it on my hip.

“Our first date…” I muttered. “… I don’t even remember that…” How I wanted to. I was so desperate to remember. But I didn’t. Those memories would be locked away and I would never get to experience them again… Not in the organic way that I had in this alternate lifetime.

“It’s okay, Max, it’s not a big deal—“

“No, it is a big deal!” I said. My voice was a little more forceful and squealed a little harder than I intended, but I meant how it sounded. “I don’t get to know how it felt to go around with you on our first date? I don’t get to remember how that felt when you kissed me? I don’t get to remember that at all, and I can’t ever get that back, because you’ve already done it once and it won’t be the same!”

I looked at Chloe, wondering if my words made sense, and she looked at me for a few seconds before she pulled her hand back from the photos and scratched her neck. “Fuck, if you’re mad about that, you’re gonna be really pissed when you know about what else’s happened…”

“About what else—?” I asked. She continued to look at me, mouth thin, and after a few seconds I connected the dots. “Oh my do—“ I started for the third time before my hands clapped themselves over my mouth. My fingers touched my cheekbones and I could feel the warmth beneath them. “We’ve… Oh my dog…!!!”

“It’s not a big deal—“

“Stop saying that! Yes, it is!” I demanded. I pulled my hands down regardless of the fact that Chloe would be able to see how deeply I was blushing. “It’s a big deal because it’s you, and it’s a big deal because I’m supposed to remember that! I’m supposed to remember that and treasure it for the rest of my life!”

Even though I was hysterically shouting at her, Chloe stayed calm. Somberly calm. She studied me for a few seconds before she looked down between us. Her mouth moved a few times before she slowly extended her hands and guided her fingertips to the outside of mine. “We… Can make new memories, Max…” she said softly, “Maybe not the first memories for me… But… They’ll be the first ones I have with you…” She looked up for a second and slid her fingers a little further into my palms. “If that’s okay with you…”

I couldn’t look away from her. She looked at me and I felt like I would dissolve in her eyes. She was so close and I could hear her soft breathing only a little over the rampant beating of my heart in my chest. “That’d… Be okay with you…?” I muttered.

Chloe’s eyes flicked a few times between mine. “Yeah…” she answered. She shuffled a little closer and I could see that her head was slowly tilting down and forward. Her eyes stayed steady on mine as she got closer. I felt my own body tense up and then relax, my fingertips closing in on her hands.

In a few seconds, my eyes closed, and then I finally felt the feeling of Chloe’s mouth on mine. It was warm and soft and tasted nothing like the rainy kiss we had shared on our last day together. There was no salty sting from tears we’d cried dried on our lips, her hands weren’t cold and warm at the same time, and there wasn’t the roar of wind around us.  

It was nothing like that first kiss we shared. Even in this lifetime it wasn’t the first kiss I had ever shared with Chloe, but I would take it.

I would take a million more kisses if they stayed like this first one.

@pricefieldweek

[techcrunchappcom]

New Post has been published on https://techcrunchapp.com/trumps-reckless-return-met-with-a-dramatically-changedwhite-house-cnn/

Trump's reckless return met with a dramatically changed White House - CNN

Instead of a bustling hive of pre-election activity, the West Wing has become a breeding ground for viral contagion. At least 11 of the President’s aides or allies have either contracted the virus or — in the case of his daughter Ivanka — are working from home. Entire suites of offices sit vacant as Trump’s aides work to isolate him in the residence and out of the West Wing.

None of that anxiety was allayed when Trump arrived back to the White House Monday. His first act after striding up the South Portico steps was to rip off his mask and stuff it into his pocket — even though he remains infected with coronavirus and could potentially infect those nearby. He was then seen going back out onto the balcony and re-entering so a camera crew could shoot his entrance.

“We’re going back. We’re going back to work. We’re gonna be out front,” Trump said in a video-taped upon his return. “As your leader I had to do that. I knew there’s danger to it, but I had to do it.”

Though four hours earlier his doctors conceded he was not yet “out of the woods” in his fight against Covid-19, Trump framed the disease as in the past: “Now I’m better and maybe I’m immune? I don’t know. But don’t let it dominate your lives.”

In the White House residence where he was speaking without a mask, an already slimmed-down staff has been reduced even further after the President and first lady both came down with coronavirus. At least one residence staffer in direct contact with the President tested positive over the weekend, according to a person familiar with the matter.

As Trump returned home, a supply of medical gowns, goggles and respirator masks had been secured for use by his health and security teams — and potentially residence staffers — should they need to come into close proximity to the President.

In the hours after he arrived, a White House employee was seen sanitizing the press briefing room wearing a full white suit with a hood, gloves and protective eyewear.

And a temporary suite of offices had been arranged on the ground floor of the executive mansion, adjacent to the White House medical suite, according to a person familiar with the plans. Trump’s working space was adjusted both in the interest of constantly monitoring the still-convalescing President and in the hopes of keeping him out of the West Wing, where staffers are contending with a growing coronavirus outbreak.

Readiness to move on

Trump hoped his return to the White House might signal his readiness to move on from what appeared, at least in his doctors’ descriptions, to be a serious case of a disease that has killed more than 200,000 Americans.

“Don’t be afraid of Covid. Don’t let it dominate your life,” Trump tweeted earlier Monday, even though his doctors had described worrying symptoms and he was treated with combination of experimental therapies unavailable to nearly anyone else.

The situation inside the building was only growing more fraught in the hours before and after he returned. An active coronavirus patient himself, Trump is still in “uncharted territory,” according to his doctor, after receiving an onslaught of experimental treatments and therapies. A large corps of both political and residence staffers — already on edge after numerous potential spreader events — now must contend with a contagious commander in chief who is eager to demonstrate his ability to lead.

For now, Trump won’t be returning to the West Wing — or at least that is the plan.

While Trump has office space in his personal residence on the third floor of the White House, the temporary offices in the Map Room and the Diplomatic Reception Room will provide closer access to his physicians and medical equipment.

The Map Room, where Trump prepared for last week’s debate and where he has rehearsed his State of the Union speeches, is directly next door to the medical suite, which includes a reception area, an exam room, and Dr. Sean Conley‘s office. The diplomatic reception room is just down the hall.

The medical offices have been likened to a small “urgent care,” and in normal times are used by staffers for first aid or to retrieve over-the-counter medication. But the facilities can also be used in an emergency to perform some types of surgery or administer urgent aid. On Tuesday evening, the President will receive a fifth and final intravenous dose of the antiviral remdesivir in the White House.

Flouting guidelines

Guidelines from the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention say people infected with coronavirus should isolate from others for at least 10 days after their symptoms appear, though Trump has blatantly disregarded recommendations from the CDC over the course of the pandemic.

Few believe Trump could be prevented from staging more photo-ops like he did on Sunday, when he emerged from the confines of Walter Reed in a black SUV to greet supporters standing on the roadside nearby. Afterward, Secret Service agents told CNN the episode demonstrated a disregard by the President for their health and safety.

He continued the practice on Monday when he arrived back to the White House. After saluting the helicopter and walking indoors without a mask, Trump could be seen returning outside with several people and a camera crew to apparently re-shoot his entrance into the house.

When he returns to work on Tuesday — which his allies have loudly proclaimed he is eager to do –Trump won’t have as many familiar faces around him. His daughter and senior adviser Ivanka Trump is working from home this week, according to an aide, “out of an abundance of caution.”

On Monday, the White House declined to say how many staffers were isolating because of their exposure to press secretary Kayleigh McEnany, senior adviser Hope Hicks or the President himself. Trump’s personal assistant Nick Luna and two press aides have also tested positive. All are remaining at home.

The rapid spread of the disease among Trump’s aides has prompted an intense backlash among staffers, who have complained they are being kept in the dark about how White House leadership planned to deal with the outbreak.

The bungled response to the coronavirus outbreak in the West Wing has been led by Meadows, who did not email his staff over the weekend to inform them of protocols despite the President’s hospitalization.

Instead, staff received no new guidance about workplace practices until Sunday night. Multiple White House officials expressed private frustration that Meadows spent the weekend acting more like the President’s friend than the chief of staff.

On Monday, the White House defended its practices despite the growing number of aides who have tested positive.

“We’ve been in the pandemic for many months,” deputy press secretary Brian Morgenstern told reporters at the White House. “We know what to do when someone gets sick: we reassess has anybody been in close contact, do they need to get another test? Do they need to work remotely? That’s what we’re seeing.”

Still, aides often follow the example set by their superiors when it comes to wearing masks, working remotely or social distancing at the office. Several officials told CNN they don’t wear masks in meetings unless their bosses do, a pattern that has reached several other agencies in addition to the West Wing.

Until he was diagnosed with Covid, Trump was seen infrequently in a mask, and mocked others for wearing them. He instructed reporters to remove them during news conferences, and has bristled in meetings when attendees try to speak through a face covering.

Now, any staff that meets with Trump in person will have to wear full personal protective gear. How else the White House was planning to ensure staffers’ safety when Trump returned wasn’t clear.

“We’ve worked with our infectious disease experts to make some recommendations for how to keep everything safe down at the White House for the President and those around him,” Conley, the White House physician, told reporters at Walter Reed on Monday. “We’re looking at where he’s going to be able to carry out his duties, office space. I’ll just say that it’s in line with everything we’ve been doing upstairs for the last several days.”

Pressed how his team would keep Trump “safely quarantined,” Conley refused to elaborate.

“I wish I could go into that more, but I just can’t,” he said.

Lack of clarity

The lack of clarity did not help improve the impression that Trump wasn’t taking seriously his status as a carrier of a highly contagious and potentially deadly virus. He was sharply criticized for staging the photo-op outside Walter Reed, which several Secret Service agents privately said put their colleagues at unnecessary risk.

The internal questions and the fierce criticism surrounding Trump’s drive around Walter Reed are being aimed at Tony Ornato, the deputy chief of staff for operations at the White House, who signed off on the decision at the request of the President, a person familiar with the matter tells CNN.

“He would never tell the President no,” a person familiar with the matter said. “That’s why the President loves him.”

The deputy chief of staff for operations (or “DCOS” as it’s known inside the White House) is a remarkably powerful role in the West Wing. It oversees everything from the medical unit to scheduling and advance to the White House military office. Every public movement by the President, and many behind-the-scenes details, are at the discretion of this role.

Ornato is a longtime Secret Service official, who was assigned to deputy chief of staff position last December. He is technically still a USSS employee, but is on temporarily assignment to the West Wing. It was seen as a highly unusual elevation at the time.

The President’s new detail leader “feels neutered in his role,” a person familiar with the matter said, because Ornato oversees everything. Inside, Ornato has been seen by some over the last several months as not taking coronavirus seriously, because he is now effectively in a political role and is close to the President.

CNN’s Peter Morris contributed to this report.

[demonslayer-yanderes]

Junkrat, Roadhog, and the Unluckiest Documentarian (Fem!Reader)

(Two brief warnings: -My first attempt at anything like this. -I basically closed my eyes and threw a dart at a list of Australian “slang” for Junkrat because I think that’s how he would have wanted it.)

He was dead and it was your fault. Sneaking past the border, hiring those two as your tour guides, even the documentary itself—all your idea. Your legs gave out and you hit the floor with a thud. You didn’t feel the blood seeping into your clothes; didn’t hear the uneven footsteps tapping across the gnarled wood floor behind you. But the voice was impossible to ignore.

“Oi, found ‘er! We’re in the shack. Looks like someone was havin’ a poke around.”

He sing-songed the last part to you as he crept closer and rested a heavy metal hand on your shoulder. You tried to whip around to look at him but it felt sluggish, as if you were in a dream. God, you wished this was a dream. He glanced past you at the body before giving you a sheepish grin.

“I know what it looks like, but no worries! It was a mercy killing. Dipstick got himself caught inna trap hiking back to town last night. Sliced an artery. So I had Roadie end it nice and painless for him rather than bleed out slow. Was tryin’ to think of a good way to tell ya so you wouldn’t get upset.” He giggled. “Guess it didn’t work out.”

You turned back to stare at your cameraman’s body. Someone had bashed his head in until it was unrecognizable. Only the logo on his shirt identified him, or at least the parts that were still legible under the chunks of brain matter clinging to it. His arms and legs jutted awkwardly from their sockets and twisted in ways they were never meant to. Even some of his fingers had been bent until they lay flat against the back of his hand. Where was the mercy in that?

“Find them?” The floor protested under his weight as Roadhog called from the doorway.

“Yup! Give us a hand an’ help get her back to the trailer. S'like she never saw a dead body before.” He jerked a thumb at it. “Speaking of, should prob'ly drag that off somewheres before sundown. Unless ya want dingos and the like showin’ up at the front door. Again.”

“I told you—” He took a labored breath. “—to do it earlier.”

“I forgot! She asked me what I was doin’ and I got a little carried away showing off me inventions. You know how excited I get. Sides, you shoulda done it. You’re the muscle. Hard labour is your job, I do all the thinkin’ and lookin’ pretty.”

They bickered lovingly as if nothing was wrong. As if the corpse in front of you was just another pile of trash and not someone you’d talked to less than twelve hours ago. The wind rushed out of you and you slumped down further, not even fighting the massive hands that wrapped around your torso and lifted you in the air. Roadhog turned you away from the body and toward the door, but you could still picture it; every detail burned into your retinas until you could see it with your eyes closed.

“Well, so what if he carked it?” Junkrat scuttled backwards out the door so he could face the two of you as he chattered. “Good riddance, the Vic bastard. I know you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but his camera work was rubbish anyways. Made Roadie look fat.”

“I am fat.”

Junkrat looked appalled. “Pleasantly plump’s what you are. Jus’ more to love. And whatshisname was a real dickhead, wasn’t he? Heard him call me a bogan once when he thought I wasn’t listening. Bogan! I mean I’ve been called an ocker and a hoon and a bastard and a drongo and a wanker and a yobbo and a monster and a worthless son, but a bogan? Well, that’s where I draw the line! Shoulda wrung his scrawny neck then.” He strangled the air in front of him only to drop his hands and look chastised at a grunt from Roadhog. He gave one of your dangling legs a sympathetic pat. “May he rest in peace, the unlucky bugger. But you, you ain’t had nothing but kind words for us! Well, 'cept when I put that Huntsman in your tent. But seeing you crying over a spider what couldn’t have been more than four kilos was too much! Roadie spent the whole night talking 'bout how cute it was.”

Roadhog stiffened. “Shut up.”

He shut up. For a few seconds.

“Ahh, this is great ain’t it? Ya know, I knew I was gonna like ya from the beginning. You kept calling me 'Mr. Junkrat’ and shaking my hand and all that when we first met. Hell, Roadie don’t even call me 'Mister’ and I’m his boss! And I can’t tell you the last time someone actually listened to me talk all the way through. They usually tune out somewhere in the middle, but you kept askin’ questions and nodding your head during those interview thingos. A real catch, shoulda done this weeks ago.”

“Jamison.”

“Er, 'this’ being spendin’ more time together. Not anything to do with that poor bastard in the shed. Still, ya may have lost a mate, but you got us now! Traded in a bloke who was up himself for two handsome, down-to-earth fellas like ourselves.”

When you reached the trailer he dashed to get inside before Roadhog squeezed through the doorway with a grunt. While Junkrat paced in excitement, straightening and unstraightening the scrap and junk clustered on every surface, you were set carefully on a scorched sofa. You stared listless at your feet as they moved around and mumbled amongst themselves. Everything felt numb, you didn’t even flinch when Junkrat suddenly popped into view.

“Here’s a doona for ya. When you go into shock you start feeling all chilly. Lost enough bits to know that firsthand.”

He clambered onto the couch with a threadbare blanket unearthed from one of the junk piles. His hands fidgeted as he tucked it around you, poking and prodding until you were wrapped so tight you couldn’t move your arms. Only when he was satisfied did he flop onto the cushion beside you with a grin.

“There we are. Oi Roadie, help me warm her up wouldya?”

His weight sent the other side of the couch surging into the air when he sat. Gravity forced the three of you closer until you were sandwiched between them, and the smell of sweat and soot and blood that clung to them was so strong you wanted to retch. You started crying instead, the tears that had threatened to spill in the shack speeding freely down your face. Junkrat panicked.

“Hey, hey, none of that! C'mon, you’re gonna make Roadie cry. He’s sensitive like that. An’ if the both of you are cryin’ I’m prob'ly gonna start too. Nobody wants that.” He jiggled his leg as he pleaded. When you just sobbed harder the smile dropped and he yanked on the tufts of hair he had left. “Shit, we’re supposed to be havin’ fun now that the dipstick’s outta the picture! Can’t have fun when you’re all sooky. Roadie, do something.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno! I’m no good in these situations. You’re the thoughtful one, you fix it.”

“…There, there.”

His massive hand enveloped your head as he pet you. Junkrat joined in after a few seconds of hesitation, clumsily running his hand across your back in jerky strokes. Each sob clawed its way up from deep inside you and forced out a fresh wave of hot, stinging tears that made your breath catch.

“Erm, there, there. No worries. You’ll see, now that he’s not in the way we’ll have heaps of fun. You can move into the trailer! S'nice and warm at night if we all huddle together. Roadie’s a hell of a space heater. Great pillow too. An’ he says I’m like a white noise machine, whatever that is.” He slung an arm across your shoulders and squeezed. “We’ll become best mates before ya know it! From there, we’ll see how we end up. What happens in me trailer stays in the trailer.”

“Jamison.”

“When you’re ready! If the mood’s right.” His crooked grin stretched a little too wide. “Ya know, like after a big heist when everyone’s keyed up. Or as a distraction to get your mind off something like your mate dyin’ a horrible, painful death. Which is deffo not what happened to whatshisface, jus’ putting that out there. But if you’re needing a distraction right now a good root is great—”

Roadhog let out a sigh and covered Junkrat’s mouth. They were meant to soothe you, but the muffled words coming from his mask made your stomach drop.

“Take your time. We aren’t going anywhere. After all, we’re all you have now.”