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topguncortez · 2 years ago

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Night Moves | Chapter 3

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synopsis: Bradley tries is hardest to stay away from Y/N, but it's proving to be harder than expected. Y/N asks questions about her dad.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: mentions of parental death, cancer, smoking pot, religious trauma, illusions of mental abuse, abandonment issues, trust issues.

Bradley wasn’t even sure why he decided to go to Olivia’s party. His mind was still swimming from the very awkward dinner with Y/N and her grandparents. When she had finished up the dishes, she came back into the living room, but only for a split second before Mrs. Lawton was sending her to her room. Bradley guessed it was probably because the woman knew something happened between them.

Bradley loved Mrs. Lawton, he really did. She was the closest thing he had to a grandmother, and she always treated him so kindly. But he hated how she treated Y/N. She was an adult, one that was old enough to make her own choices. In Bradley’s eyes, unless she was on the run for murder, Y/N didn’t do anything to warrant this type of treatment.

Sighing into his drink, Bradley set it down next to him and watched the group of teenagers and twenty-somethings all dance up on each other. He was sitting in a lawn chair a couple feet away from the fire, he thought it was dumb to have a bonfire when it was still 80 degrees outside. He was one of the only singles sitting by himself, most had found someone to dance with, or had disappeared into the tree line behind Olivia’s house. Olivia’s parties were known as “swipe parties”, most who came ended up swiping something, whether that be someone’s credit card or virginity, that was up for interpretation.

“You look lonely,” A voice said and Bradley looked up to see Olivia Bachman standing in front of him. Her legs were on display as she wore cut off shorts, and her top, if you could even call it that, showed off her breasts. Olivia was a very pretty girl, and she knew it, “What’s wrong?” She asked, and sat down in the chair next to Bradley.

“Nothing,” He shrugged and adjusted in his seat, “Nice party.”

“Now, I really know something is wrong,” Olivia chuckled, “I heard about your mom, I’m sorry.” Bradley just nodded and sipped his drink. He was tired of hearing those words. He knew that it was people just trying to be nice to him, but he wanted to punch everyone who said that to him.

“Do you want to dance?” Bradley asked, and Olivia’s lips quirked up in a smile. She nodded and grabbed Bradley’s hands, pulling him towards the makeshift dance area. Bradley had no idea what he was doing, the only girl he danced with was at prom and she had been scared to even touch him because her mom was one of the chaperones. But, Olivia knew what she was doing, and turned around, pressing her ass against Bradley’s crotch, and placed his hands on her hips. He tried to act like he wasn’t taken aback by her boldness, but he totally was. Olivia reminded him of Y/N, if she had the freedom to do what she wanted.

But Bradley also wondered if Y/N was this bold? Sure he had caught her naked in the lake off his dock in the middle of the night, but that was just by chance. She was sneaky, and Bradley wondered if that was part of the reason why she was here. Did she sneak out one night and get caught? Did she sneak around and do drugs or something? She didn’t seem like a druggie, but maybe that was because her grandmother made her totally detox.

“You’re thinking too much,” Olivia said, and turned around to face Bradley. Her hips moved to the beat of the music, swaying back and forth. Bradley didn’t recognize the song, it was some shitty overplayed pop song. He hardly ever listened to the radio, except for at work. His truck radio didn’t even get the pop station, and he preferred to listen to the 8-track tapes that his dad had once made.

“I don’t usually listen to this stuff,” Bradley said, his hands still on her hips.

“I can tell,” Olivia smiled, “Just. . . here,” She leaned up on her tippy toes and placed a sloppy kiss on Bradley’s lips. He didn’t like the way she kissed. It was as if she was trying to stick her tongue down his throat. She also tasted like cheap beer. But Bradley still kissed her back, his hands tightening their hold on her hips.

“Better?” She asked when she pulled away, and Bradley nodded. She smirked and kissed the corner of his mouth before turning back around and her ass was once again on Bradley’s groin. He sucked in a breath as she bent over, grinding her ass against him. He’s never had a girl do that on him before.

— — —

Y/N was wide awake. Her brain would just not shut off after the disaster of a dinner she had with her grandparents, Bradley and his mom. She kind of remembered Carole from the summers she spent back here. Somewhere in her memory she could picture a tall man with a mustache, who would be one of the only adults to go down the slip-and-slide at Gran’s fourth of July parties. Y/N wondered where he was. She was going to ask but knew Gran’s rules about asking about people from the past.

She sighed as she turned over onto her side and looked out her window. The lake looked inviting, but after the vents at dinner, Y/N didn’t dare to try and sneak out. Gran was already on to her about Bradley and Y/N was not about to give her anymore fuel about it. Y/N looked around her room, her eyes landing on the record player and stack of vinyls in the corner. It had once belonged to her mother, and Y/N was surprised that her mother used to have good taste in music.

Quietly, Y/N got out of her bed and walked over to the record player. She flipped through them, her eyes landing on a Queen record. She read the back of it and smiled seeing one of her favorite songs. Just as she was about to put the needle down on the record, she heard something hit against her window. She furrowed her eyebrows, and shook it off, summing it up to a tree branch. But then she heard the sound again, and then again. Y/N stood up from the floor and walked over to the window, finding the culprit standing on the ground.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she saw Bradley, draw his arm back to fling another rock at the window, but she quickly opened her window, “What the hell are you doing!?” She seethed.

“Oh! You’re awake!” He slurred.

“You’re drunk,” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“A bit,” Bradley shrugged, “Come down here, please?” Y/N shook her head, “I’ll keep throwing rocks.”

“Brad-”

“There you go with my name again!”

Y/N huffed and shifted her weight on her feet, “If I come down there will you shut up?” Bradley nodded eagerly, “Can’t believe I’m doing this,” Y/N muttered to herself as she pushed her window open more.

Bradley watched her with wide eyes as she swung her leg over the window sill and reached for the white lattice that hung on the side of the house. From where he was standing, he had the perfect view up her nightgown, and could see the soft lace panties she wore. He had to look away before he got hard, but he also wanted to watch how gracefully she climbed down the lattice, as if she had done this a million times before. She landed on her feet with a soft grunt, the grass felt cold under her bare feet.

“I’m here now,” Y/N said, holding her arms out to present herself, “What do you want?”

“A kiss,” Bradley said and Y/N scoffed, “Or an explanation, for why you are here.”

“Bradley, I can’t-”

“Again with the name,” He cut her off, “Three times in one day.”

Y/N couldn’t help the smile that tugged on her lips. She shook her head and took a step forward and grabbed his shirt collar, bringing him down for a kiss.

Bradley was right, he liked Y/N’s kisses better. She was bold too, like Olivia, but she was also gentle. Y/N’s lips tasted like vanilla with a hint of the strawberries that she had for dessert. He liked the soft touch of her nightgown. It gave her a sort of innocence. It definitely confused him even more as to why she was here.

When air was needed, she pulled away from him, and licked her swollen lips, “You got your kiss. Now, can you please-”

“Bradley,” A voice cut through the air and Y/N took a big step away from him. He suddenly felt like he was put under a spotlight as he stood in front of Y/N’s Grandmother. Her eyes were narrowed on the boy, but Y/N was the one to hang her head in shame, “You ought to be goin’ home, son.”

“Yes Mrs. Lawton,” Bradley nodded. The elder woman looked between the two teenagers, taking in the sight of her granddaughter’s guilty appearance before heading back inside, “Y/N, I’m so-”

Y/N picked her head, and Bradley’s heart broke at the sight of tears in her eyes, “Please. . . stay away from me.” Her voice was barely above a whisper and Bradley nodded. He stood still in his spot as he watched her run back inside the small house.

He sighed and looked up at the stars, “I can really use some help here, dad.”

The moment the backdoor shut, Gran turned her head and looked at her granddaughter. Y/N was preparing herself to have to go pack her bags and be sent to the group home that Craig wanted to send her too. Y/N stood in the doorway and fiddled with the edges of her night gown, waiting for Gran to say anything. Instead, the old woman walked out of the kitchen, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts.

— — —

Y/N was woken up early on Sunday morning by a simple knock on her door. She wasn’t in a deep sleep anyway, her mind was running a mile a minute. Y/N got dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and headed downstairs. Gran was sitting at the kitchen table, coffee in her hand reading over the paper. Breakfast had already been made which surprised Y/N, usually she had to help with breakfast.

“Where’s Pops?” Y/N asked.

“Sunday mornings are diner mornings,” Gran said, flipping a page of the newspaper, “Eat up, we got church to go to.”

Y/N nodded, though Gran could not see, too consumed by reading the obituaries. They were the same in that regard, it was a bit morbid, but it was a way of keeping tabs on people they might’ve forgotten. Y/N grabbed a plate from the cabinet and made herself a plate of eggs, bacon and a biscuit. She sat down across from Gran, and ate in painful silence. She suddenly wished she could go back in time to the awkward dinner last night.

“So Bradley,” Gran spoke up, taking a sip from her cup, “Nice boy.”

“He is,” Y/N muttered, pushing around the eggs on her plate.

“You know. . . you’re a good kid too,” Gran said, and set the newspaper down, “Your mom just didn’t know how to raise you, she was still a kid herself. A baby raising a baby,” Gran shook her head. All Y/N could do was nod, “But those are the boys you need to be careful of. Your daddy was a nice boy too.”

Y/N had never met her dad. Her mom said that he was a deadbeat and walked away the moment she told him she was pregnant. Growing up, that’s always what Y/N believed, it had been ingrained in her by her mother to hate her father. But Y/N could vividly remember the day that a man who had the same eyes as her showed up on her Gran’s front steps and demanded to see her. It took Pops and her Uncle Jack to push the man away from the door. And she had never seen him again, nor did she ever ask about the man who came to the door.

“Did you know my dad well?” Y/N asked, barely above a whisper and Gran sighed.

“We still sit behind his parents in Church every Sunday. He talked about joining the Army since he was a little boy. . . Kinda poetic, that's the way he went out.”

“Wait,” Y/N said and sat up straighter in her chair, “My dad, h-he’s-”

“Buried at the Veterans Memorial,” Gran said softly, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Taking in a shaky breath, Y/N nodded, “It’s alright. C-can I be dismissed?”

“Yeah, half an hour till church,” Gran said.

— — —

Y/N wasn’t sure what to feel as she sat in the church pew next to her Gran. Every so often she would see Gran nudge Pops to keep him awake while the pastor droned on about the significance of the Wedding at Cana. Y/N had heard this story a million times, when Jesus turned water into wine. It was one of the very first stories that she could remember hearing when she was a child. She tried her hardest to not stare at the couple sitting in front of her, but she couldn’t help it.

She wondered if they knew about her, knew who she belonged to. In her head, Y/N had always imagined the day she would meet her father. That he would probably be coming back in some sort of uniform, and be able to pick her out of a crowd of hundreds. It made it hurt even more that he was a man in uniform like she had dreamt and that he did come home, but she never knew it.

“Now, go, and greet thy neighbor in the sharing of peace,” Y/N picked up her head at the pastor’s words and as the congregation started milling about, shaking each other’s hands.

Pops smiled as he reached over and grabbed Y/N’s hand, “Peace be with you, buck.”

Y/N smiled, “Peace be with you, old man.”

‘Buck’ had been her nickname since she was born in the spring during hunting season. Pops said that she had been as wild as a buck when she was born, coming quickly and early. Her mom said that it was if Y/N was trying to win a race for fastest labor ever. Gran said that was the last time Y/N had ever been early to anything in her life.

Y/N wiped her hands nervously on her dress as she looked around, seeing her grandparents talk to different people in the congregation. They had immersed themselves in the church when they first moved to Virginia Beach. The church was their home, their friends, their second family. Y/N was about to sit back down on the pew when she felt a nudge on her arm. She turned to see Bradley, dressed in khaki pants and a pink button up. His hair looked a little better tamed but he still had that ridiculous thing he called a mustache on his upper lip.

“Peace be with you, ‘Anna,” Bradley said, holding his hand out.

“‘Anna’?” Y/N asked, shaking his hand.

“Short for Louisiana,” Bradley smiled and Y/N giggled, shaking her head.

Gran could see Y/N from across the church where she was talking to Margret Freed. Deep down she knew that Bradley wasn’t trouble. He was a good kid, had a bright future ahead of him, but got dealt a shitty hand at life. Bradley reminded Gran a lot of Michael, Y/N’s dad. In a way, Gran thought she was protecting Y/N from the same heartbreak and future that her mother had. But she was also pushing her right towards it.

When church was dismissed, Bradley and Y/N found themselves sitting on top of a picnic bench outside in the shade. Gran was busy teaching Sunday school and Carole was in her bible study. The two of them sat in silence and watched the trees sway back and forth. Bradley was starting to sweat in his polo, and wished that he could’ve worn a t-shirt and gym shorts instead of the starched clothing that his mother picked out. But at least Y/N looked cool, she looked like a dream in her white sundress that hit about mid-knee, and was a bit off the shoulder. Bradley had a perfect view of her perfect collarbones and the silver cross necklace that dangled between her breasts.

“Quit starin’ at my boobs, Brandon,” Y/N said, her eyes closed as she leaned back on her hands, feeling the sweet summer breeze roll across her body. With every brush of wind through her hair, Bradley could smell her apple scented shampoo.

“Back to the name thing huh,” Bradley smiled and looked down at his van covered feet.

Y/N smiled and opened her eyes, sitting up a bit. She slid to the edge of the picnic table and set her now bare feet on the bench, “Do you know that couple who was sitting in front of me and my grandparents?”

Bradley nodded, “I think so. Tall guy, graying hair standing next to a short red-haired woman?” Bradley asked and you nodded, “I’m pretty sure that’s doctor Peterson and his wife Sam. Why?”

“I never knew my dad,” Y/N said and Bradley looked up at her. For once he saw a look of uncertainty in her eye and it almost frightened him. He reached over and grabbed one of her fidgeting hands and held it in his, “Apparently. . . those are my grandparents. My dad, he uh. . . he died?”

Bradley nodded again, “Yeah. . .” Michael Peterson’s funeral had been the second military funeral that Bradley had ever gone to. He could remember every single military funeral he went to vividly, they were all the same, but with a different picture to salute.

Y/N swallowed and pulled her hand away from Bradley, immediately feeling a coldness rush over her body. She stood up from the picnic table and wiped her hands on her dress.

“I should go check in with Gran,” Y/N said, starting to walk away but Bradley grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

“Tex. . . you’re giving me whiplash,” Bradley said and Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “One day I’m finding you naked in the lake, and the next, you’re telling me to stay away from you and now-”

“You’re a nice boy,” Y/N said, cutting him off and Bradley looked confused, “Gran says I need to stay away from nice boys like you. You have a future. You’re going to become a pilot and be god knows where. I. . . I don’t even know where I’ll be a month from now. I don’t need to be dragging you into trouble with me.”

Bradley held her hand in his, “But,”

“But,” Y/N swallowed, “I can’t stay away from you no matter how hard I try.”

Bradley smiled and slid off the table, pulling her against him. He gently ran his hand over her cheek, holding her face in his palm. He tilted her head up a bit to look at him. Her eyes were always so sweet, as if they were pools of honey. It was as if the electricity between them was pulling them in closer and closer until their lips connected. Y/N sighed into the kiss as her arms wrapped around his neck. Bradley’s hands rested on her hips, holding her close to him. It felt natural to have her in his arms. Bradley’s tongue licked at her bottom lip and she pulled away.

“Probably not the best idea to be makin’ out in front of the church,” She said breathlessly and Bradley chuckled.

“Probably not,” He answered and pecked her lips, “But, I know a spot, meet me tomorrow night.”

“But what about my grandparents?”

Bradley shook his head, “It’s bridge night. My mom and your grandmother usually go together. It’ll be fine.”

“I trust you, Bryan,” Y/N smiled.

“Scouts honor, Tennessee.”

Y/N giggled as she pulled her hands away from Bradley and began to walk back towards the church. Bradley watched her walk away, like an angel in human form. He touched his lips softly, still buzzing from the heated kiss that they shared. He knew it was probably the dumbest thing he had ever done, but he had fallen head over heels in love.

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im-phoenix-black · 4 months ago

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I don't know but I copy pasted the whole thing enjoy

Lisa Alther, author, born and grew up in Kingsport

Edward L. Ayers, Bancroft Prize-winning historian and ninth president of the University of Richmond, raised in Kingsport

Barry Bales, Grammy Award-winning musician with Alison Krauss and Union Station

James F. Barker, president of Clemson University (1999–2013)

Nick Castle, actor who played Michael Myers in the original Halloween, was born in Kingsport and makes appearances at the local haunted houses.

Jeff Chapman-Crane, Appalachian artist

Harry Coover, inventor of Super Glue

Denny Crawford, professional football player

Amy Dalley, country music artist

Bobby Dodd, College Football Hall of Fame inductee as both a football player (University of Tennessee) and coach (Georgia Institute of Technology)

Bobby Eaton, professional wrestler

Elle and Blair Fowler, online beauty retailers who spent part of their childhoods in Kingsport

Daniel Kilgore, professional football player, Kansas City Chiefs

Cliff Kresge, Nationwide Tour golfer who splits his time between homes in Kingsport and Florida

Mark H. Landes, U.S. Army major general[37]

Hal Lawton, President & CEO of Tractor Supply, graduate of Sullivan South High School

Blake Leeper, Paralympic silver medallist[38]

Cripple Clarence Lofton, noted boogie-woogie pianist and singer, born in Kingsport

Matt Mahaffey, musician, frontman of pop/rock band Self

Brownie and Stick McGhee, brothers and blues musicians, grew up in Kingsport and other East Tennessee towns

Ken Mellons, country music artist

John Palmer, former NBC News correspondent, born in Kingsport and a graduate of Dobyns-Bennett High School

Jimmy Quillen, member of the U.S. House of Representatives from Tennessee's 1st congressional district (1963–1997)

John Shelton Reed, sociologist and essayist, author or editor of eighteen books, most of them dealing with the contemporary American South

Selwa Showker "Lucky" Roosevelt, Chief of Protocol of the United States from 1982-1989 and former journalist for the Washington Post, married Archibald B. Roosevelt, grandson of President Theodore Roosevelt

Coty Sensabaugh, cornerback for the Pittsburgh Steelers

Gerald Sensabaugh, retired NFL cornerback, played for the Jacksonville Jaguars and the Dallas Cowboys

LeRoy Sprankle, high school multi-sport coach, author, and general manager of the Canton Independents

Adam Steffey, bluegrass artist

Bill Streever, biologist and author

Cyrus Thomas, entomologist and ethnologist

Steven Williams, actor who starred in 21 Jump Street and The Blues Brothers

I mean I didn't recognize any of the names and I'm from there

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lboogie1906 · 5 months ago

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Second Lieutenant Mel Streeter (1931 – June 12, 2006) was born in Riverside, California. He attended the University of Oregon on a basketball scholarship and was the second African-American basketball player at Oregon after declining an offer by legendary basketball coach John Wooden to attend UCLA because UCLA did not have an architecture program. He graduated with a BS in architecture.

At the University of Oregon, he was enrolled in the Army ROTC program. After serving as a second lieutenant in the transport unit at Ft. Lawton, Washington from 1955 to 1957, he stayed in Seattle to raise a family and tried finding work at local architectural firms. He struck out 22 times before he found work with Paul Hayden Kirk and Fred Bassetti.

In 1967, he opened the third African American-owned architecture firm in Seattle. In the 1970s, he teamed with Paul Dermanis to form Streeter/Dermanis. By the early 1990s, the two partners had split and he created Streeter & Associates Architects. The firm is known for projects such as Auburn City Hall, the Federal Aviation Administration Regional Headquarters, and several buildings at Naval Station Everett in Everett, Washington.

Some of the firm’s community facilities include John Muir Elementary School, the Rainier Beach High School Performance Hall, and the African American Academy. He designed a 64-unit senior housing complex for Mount Zion Baptist Church and was part of the Safeco Field, Qwest Stadium, and SeaTac airport design teams.

A pillar of the African American community in Seattle, he was a Seattle Planning Commissioner. He was a founding member of the AIA Seattle Diversity Roundtable and the Tabor 100. He was active in the professional African American men’s organization, the Breakfast Group. As an African American architect, he opened doors for other architects of color and some of the city’s best-known architects. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

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calliopesink · 6 months ago

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My whirlwind trip to Adamson

Some people find travelling from the south to Adamson University stressful but for me, it's a norm. So let me take you on my usual travels!

First, we leave the house two hours early to avoid traffic jams. Starting in General Trias, the first vehicle we will see is a jeep headed to Pala-Pala it's a long drive but no worries, there are plenty of treasures to see along the way in Cavite. We will see stunning sights in Langkaan, and the roadside is the breathtaking structure of St. Paul Parish while on our first ride.

Upon arrival at Pala-Pala, I usually get off at the crosswalk to walk to the bus station then ride the bus with "Lawton" written on the placard, as it directly drives along Kalaw.

Along the way, the bus routed to Manila will pass by Dasmarinas. Famous for its butterfly festival, we might be lucky enough to see various butterfly species. Also, we will pass by the historical Immaculate Conception Church, which was a site of significant bloodshed during the Philippine War against Spain. We will also drive by Imus, Cavite which is known as the Flag Capital. Then, we arrive at Bacoor. It is a beautiful city, famous for its seafood.

After passing the Parañaque Integrated Terminal Exchange (PITX), next on the route is Pasay. You can catch a glimpse of the Double Dragon Hotel and Dream Play along the way. Pasay is the home of the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) which features an architectural design inspired by a toilet, that is one magnificent toilet if you ask me.

After the long ride, we finally arrive at our destination, Kalaw. Upon arriving, the infamous walkway will greet us. As we walk down the path, let us adore the various paintings depicting the core values of Adamson University along the walls of the path. As we exit the walkway, we will encounter St. Vincent de Paul church, the historical Saint Vincent building, and across from it is the Saint Therese building, and the all-time favourite of Adamsonians, the Estero de Balete that connects the Saint Therese and Cardinal Santos buildings.

It's always a tiring yet exciting trip from Cavite to Adamson University, a trip filled with history, charm, and beauty at every turn.

Written By: Bianca Heraldo

Pubmat By: Cathleen Jasmine Marfil

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atlanticcanada · 2 years ago

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Sobeys parent company Empire says cyberattack expected to cost $25M after insurance

Sobeys parent company Empire Co. Ltd. has shared new details on a cyberattack that shut down its pharmacy services and other in-store functions last month.

The security breach in early November left customers unable to fill prescriptions for four days, while other in-store functions like self-checkout machines, gift card use and the redemption of loyalty points were offline for about a week.

The cybersecurity event is expected to cost $25 million after insurance recoveries, Empire said Thursday.

But the company, which owns drugstore chain Lawtons Drugs, declined to reveal the total cost of the disruption.

"We're not going to provide the gross amount," Matt Reindel, chief financial officer of Empire and Sobeys, said during a call with analysts to discuss the company's latest financial results.

"We are estimating a net impact of $25 million to net earnings. This estimate includes certain business losses, such as shrink and additional labour, and then direct costs such as IT professional expenses and legal expenses."

It remains unclear whether any personal information was stolen during the breach, or if Sobeys paid any sort of ransom.

Michael Medline, president and CEO of Empire and Sobeys, said the company took action as soon as the cyber "intrusion" was discovered.

"We immediately began to isolate the source and shut down certain systems to prevent further spread and to protect our operations and our data," he said during the conference call.

"This ensured that we were able to run our stores with little disruption and with thankfully no interruption to our supply chain. But this event and our precautionary response did cause some temporary problems."

While customer-facing services have been fully restored for some time, the company said it's continuing to bring information and administrative systems back online in a phased approach.

Empire said its in-house security team is still investigating the event with the assistance of leading cyber defence firms.

If the investigation finds data has been removed from its systems, Empire said it will take "all required steps with privacy regulators and impacted individuals."

Empire reported earnings of $189.9 million or 73 cents per share in its latest quarter, up from $175.4 million or 66 cents per share in the same quarter last year.

Sales in what was the second quarter of the company's 2023 financial year totalled $7.64 billion, up from $7.32 billion in the same quarter last year.

Same-store sales were up 3.9 per cent, while same-store sales, excluding fuel sales, were up 3.1 per cent.

The company's food retailing business -- which operates several chains including Sobeys, Safeway, FreshCo, Farm Boy and Foodland -- recorded net earnings of $158.0 million during the quarter, down from a profit of $159.3 million during the same period last year.

Meanwhile, Empire announced plans to sell 56 gas stations in Western Canada to Shell Canada subsidiary Canadian Mobility Services Ltd. for about $100 million in cash.

"In reviewing our portfolio, we determined that our fuel business in the West -- which does not have a meaningful convenience store business -- is not core to our offering," Medline said.

"This sale allows us to realize the value of these assets while continuing to benefit from the foot traffic generated by these sites. Shell is a good partner and through their investment in these sites we expect to see increased benefits to both their business and our nearby grocery stores."

This report by The Canadian Press was first published Dec. 15, 2022.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/n6yoLW7

#new brunswick #prince edward island #nova scotia #news #politics #canada #CTVAtlantic

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woman-loving · 4 years ago

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Bisexuality in an early gay community

Selection from An Evening at the Garden of Allah: A Gay Cabaret in Seattle by Don Paulson and Roger Simpson, 1996. This book looks at the Garden of Allah, Seattle’s first gay-owned gay bar, which was open between 1946 and 1956. Although she doesn’t use the term “bisexual,” Rita Kelsey describes herself as “not exactly gay myself and...not the other way,” and talks about two women and a man as “the three loves in [her] life.” This selection also describes another marriage between a woman and a man who met at the Garden that was motivated my more practical concerns, a reminder that heterosexual marriage can’t always be taken as an indication of sexual interest between the parties.

In the Garden, lesbians enjoyed a bar that catered to them, even though they were generally outnumbered by the gay men in the audience. A woman could dance with another woman in many bars in the city, but the Garden fostered that intimacy. In that protective setting, Seattle lesbians went about finding partners and defining a public presence for the first time.

RITA KELSEY

Rita Kelsey’s home north of Seattle still is a guesthouse for friends from the Garden of Allah. She owns the home she shares now with dogs and cats. She showed me scrapbooks crammed with pictures, including those of many of her friends from the Garden days. * I went to the Garden for the first time on April 2, 1947, with Nickey Arthur, my friend and lover. I’m not exactly gay myself and I’m not the other way. I don’t know where I am although sex has never meant that much to me. My interest is where people are coming from. But I love gay people far more than the others.

[...]

There were several Mickeys at the Garden, but Mickey Baasch was my friend and one of our crowd. Known as Nick Arthur, she was an emcee and sang every Friday and Saturday night for four years. She had a lovely tenor voice; she liked to sing the sad romantic songs like her favorite, “Maria Elena.” She sang that song to me. Nickey’s opening song was “If I Had My Life to Live Over.” Nickey was adopted when she was just a few days old. She wanted to be a man so bad. We were together for twelve years, but she got so mean with her drinking that I couldn’t take it anymore. I then took off with Bobby Kingville.

Bobby was a close friend and member of our crowd. Bobby and Nickey were both considered butches. Bobby was quite a dancer! She went in for the liveliest numbers, especially the song, “Marie.” She’d really get out there on the dance floor and carry on. If anybody tried to do something that Bobby thought was wrong, she’d go over like she was going to tear them apart, but they always wound up friends. Bobby wouldn’t care if she got into a fight if it was necessary, but she wasn’t the type to start a fight. She believed in fair play.

Gene Talbot was a soldier stationed at Fort Lawton who always came down to the Garden. He was a nice guy and he and Bobby hit it off. They liked each other and Gene shared his money with her. Eventually, they married. On their wedding night, Bobby and I got a room together and Gene spent the night with a police sergeant’s son. I don’t know why they got married, but Bobby got money and Gene had this idea of a respectable image for both of them. He wanted her to drop the butch image and dress up in a closet full of nice dresses. He’d run around with the boys but didn’t want her to run around with the girls. He wanted her to play the part of a model wife and then he even wanted her to go around with their landlady, but Bobby was not interested. Bobby called me up and said, “I want to come home.” They should never have married and just remained friends.

I married a straight man when I was a teenager, but it was a mistake. He was the serious type and I wanted to have fun, so we broke up. Many years later, I learned his wife had died so I sent Bill a sympathy card and enclosed my telephone number. He called me and we started going out and after three months, we got married, but this time it lasted seventeen years. I had to educate him about gay and lesbian life and he accepted it and grew fond of all my friends. He loved Bobby and tried to make friends with Nickey, but she was always so jealous of my other friendships. Bill tried to hard, but she was so mean to him.

I took care of Bill for nine months before he died. He had asbestos in his lungs. I got a call from his nurse at Bill’s request to come to the hospital immediately. I said to the nurse, “How will I get there?” I don’t know how Bill heard but he said, “Taxi!” And he said to the nurse, “Tell her I love her and I know she loves me.” I got to the hospital and even though he couldn’t see without his glasses, he saw me from across the room as I entered, then he took his last breath and died. He just wasn’t going to go until I got there.

Nickey, Bobby, and I remained friends for over forty years, right to the end. Nickey went first in 1980. All she had was Social Security so her ashes were placed on a less expensive higher shelf at Washelli cemetery. Then Bobby got sick and I put her in the Crest House but it just wasn’t her type of place. She was a veteran of World War II so I finally got her into the Veterans Home in Orting, Washington. She just loved it there and everyone treated her so well. She was there for about a year and a half before she died in 1984. I took care of the funeral arrangements for all three of them, the three loves in my life, Bill, Nickey, and Bobby. I had them cremated.

When Bobby died, I arranged for Bill’s, Nickey’s, and Bobby’s ashes to be moved next to mine when that time comes. Four Garden of Allah pals resting beside each other for eternity. If it were still open, I’d still be going there.

#lgbtq history #bisexuality #bisexual history #seattle #us history #the garden of allah

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years ago

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Sunday 18 August 1839

10 ¾

fine morning F60 ¼° at 4 ¼ am barley oats peas etc. niceish open country about Sollenbrun [Sollebrunn] – good small as usual beds A- poorlish – paid 4/12 rigs = 2.40.0. Banco – enough for our boiled milk and 6 eggs and butter and the little bit of brown bread ate (the tea and sugar our own) – a few houses scattered about near the Station and afterwards – Bäreberg a little hamlet 1 ¾ m. at 6 ¾ = 1 mile per hour – still fine but clouds lowering – bare wide-extended sterile plain country heather moor with patches of corn to the little scattered village of Bäreberg neat little whitewashed church a little before coming to the station – could not sleep there I think – the people going to church – all the men by themselves and all the women ditto in little companies – very neatly and well clothed – 25 minutes here (at B-) we had come faster than William expected – the horses not arrived – off at 9 21/.. – A- and I had breakfasted (had a little of Mrs. Todd cold rice pudding at 8 ½) – wrote out yesterday afternoon after leaving B- at 9 21/.. then slept a little then wrote thus far till now 10 50/.. and we just a fir forest – Scotch and spruce but much Scotch – a relief after the poor uninteresting country this morning – we had a little at starting but not [?] – the clouds threaten more

off at 5 5/..

2 four wheeled and 2 wheel carriages besides our own off before 5

2 forest for 10 minutes

August Sunday 18 rain – common juniper cranberries and bilberries and heather grow everywhere in the forests and on the commons – at 2 little bit of forest – at 12 20/.. Lidköping on the Wenner [Vänern] lake – nice little wooden town with large grande Place, in the style of Wennersberg but not so large? – nice view of the lake as we cross the grande Place green with grass – then a wood bridge over good river then lesser square and goodish street to the gate (common square posts) out of the town – had entered by another such gate – nice neat little town – neat good (stone?) whitewashed church the people well dressed – some gentlemen walking about – fine broad expanse of lake, but its boundaries as far as we can see sparingly wooded in front of us – better behind us – and no where bold – hill range gently sloping to the waters edge in front (left) oats green and rye in stook, close together – better farming or better soil or but just about the town than since close to Götheborg [Gothenburg] – the lake calm but looks muddyish hereabouts as if shallow and lying on sand – our road now at 12 40/.. (10 minutes from the town) very sandy (red sandy) – and enter a little forest Scotch fir we had also a little bit before entering the town – at 1 5/.. out of the fir forest and again upon the lake and cross another little stream – here Epilobium (Contamine) a weed among the oats as in fact we have seen it before in Sweden – now birch wood and firs (forest) again and sandy but very fair road – the roads all along very fair – A- and I had Deventer gingerbread and enjoyed it till 1 ½ then emerge again up the fine sea-like lake – but its scenery must be tame – the day finer now – [fresher] drier air over this juniper common a long reach of the lake and Lidköping just distinguishable – Cållängen [Kållängen] at 2 7/.. good station – 2 or 3 carriages – 2 ladies?

SH:7/ML/TR/12/0030

August Sunday 18 getting some boiled milk? in soup plates – all looked well – a house? and 2 or 3 cottages and large farm buildings close to the station house – could sleep there very well – but nothing (said William) to be had but bread and cheese – the horses not arrived – had to wait till off again at 2 43/.. – at 2 50/.. pass thro’ picturesque little village – neat good stone built church – this and another larger church and village in sight at Cållängen [Kållängen] – the large church perhaps an English ¼ or ½ mile distant – several [?] cottages scattered about here , in little groups – the clouds still very threatening but a little sun now at 3pm – ripe oats uncut and lime set up in little sheaves – much cattle red and horses pasting on the common more cleared and better pasture than usual – the corn etc. in fenced off patches – the cattle generally a reddish fawn-colour – little and slim but good – went into the cowhouse and stable at C- horses fed out of deep troughs – no racks – eat their hay out of troughs at the door of the station – cow has nor racks nor anything – must surely feed out of moveable tubs – floors boarded – horses part only by a double rail but top tail as high as the horses – cows each stale at 3 8/.. bit of fir forest chiefly Scotch and then moor heathy and sweet gale etc. only for one cow parted by a few boards the height of the cows’ head at her head and sloping down to 1/3 of that at the thick boards tail – let into one another no other visible support at the bottom end – pigs kept warm in winter – the styes opening into boarded huts or as it were vestibules! at 3 1/3 on the heathery sweet gate, juniper, bilberry moor Kinnekulle (pronounced Chinnahcullah)fine – roundish long balked wood hill full in view about a mile off (right) – there may be a fine view of the lake

August 18 and as they of several towns but what else can there be? sheep here – the cottages hereabouts very small and low, mere wood huts – the [strong] thatch covered with peaty sods – very poor and picturesque – our road still very sandy –

Kinnekulle reminds me of mowcop [Mow cop] near Lawton but is not near so fine –

Enebacken at 4 5/.. neat good wood house and a cottage or 2 the village at a little distance – prettyish on starting from here – could sleep here well I should think – still sandy road – Kinnekulla the summit of a picturesque line of hill – looks well and nearer from the top of the rising ground just beyond our Enebacken station – and soon enter young forest chiefly Scotch again – pretty stage from Enebacken – forest and pretty with big granite boulders moor young fir wood – at 5 ¾ water (left) and en face a little [reach] of the lake – nice drive all the way from Lidköping, but pretty from E- several small hamlets and villages scattered all along – at 5 10/.. long, straggling, unpainted picturesque wooden (tiled, strong thatched or shingled) village of Bjorsätter [Björsäters] good whitewashed brick or stone church – some better larger red houses at the station (in the village) at 5 55/.. – might perhaps sleep here à la rigueur? little 2 story houses door and 5 windows to the street – a tall maypole just before us lower down the street – off again at 6 5/.. nice foresty pretty enough drive till 7 8/.. fine sunset over the lake and cross two good wooden bridges into the very neat nice little town of Mariestadt beautifully situated – on a little bay of the lake – very nice good little right angle streeted town – the western horizon quite red – [gilding pin] a clay of the handsome looking whitewashed church and topping the tops of the fir forest on the east side the lake (in front of us) with a sight autumnal brown – singular effect – at some distance ½ the height of the trees [?] – this colours the gradually wore itself out as we neared and forest – enter it at 7 20/.. – chiefly Scotch fir – arrived at Hasslerör at 8 – 2 rooms – comfortable

SH:7/ML/TR/12/0031

August Sunday 18 Boiled milk and 4 boiled eggs and butter – had our own bread and preserved lemon and Tods’ rice cake – good supper – and over at 8 50/.. – then had Grotza and long motion Reading handbook on Sweden – fine day – F64 ¼° at 9 ½ pm

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stevesellshomes · 3 years ago

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maggiecreekrp · 4 years ago

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CANON FAMILIES

An asterisk (*) denotes a family that someone has already shown interest in or created a character for. If you find yourself invested in any of the families, starred or otherwise, please feel free to send us a message here to discuss. Most of the families, save for the Montgomerys, have multiple slots available, so even if they are marked with an asterisk, there is still plenty of room. The Bradshaw and Buchanan families remain the largest/most focal, and will not be marked.

BRADSHAW + ADJACENTS

The Bradshaw family have lived in Reckoning since the town’s founding in the early 1800s. Each generation has taken up the same line of work as the previous: ranchers and, eventually, rodeo. They have had their grips in Reckoning politics for ages, some of them serving on the town council, in law enforcement, in the courthouse and beyond. What they own the most of in the town, however, is land, and a pretty penny has gone into Bradshaw pockets from people looking to purchase parts of it for business and homes alike. This has given them the upper hand for decades, as they have refused to sell anything to a Buchanan (or anyone who sides with them) since the beginning of the feud in 1899. They tend to steer clear of the violence brought on by the Buchanan family as much as they can, but sometimes, it’s damn near impossible.

The Montgomery* family is proudly aligned with the Bradshaw clan, the alliance formed when the youngest daughter of a Bradshaw line married the hired farmhand who had rolled into town from Montana. A small family of only two generations, they still hold quite a bit of power in Reckoning and Greene County given the patriarch holds the office of Sheriff and keeps his grip tight on the position. The Montgomerys are sly and smart about revenge and very picky about who they exact it on. A proud bunch who are loyal to the grave, one cannot mess with a Bradshaw and avoid catching the hands of the Sheriff.

The Abernathys* have been sided with the Bradshaws by default ever since they married into the family in 1919. Mostly known for their amicable dispositions, their most notable mark on the town is Aunt Peachie’s, a small boutique run by Peachie Abernathy, selling a little bit of everything. They are fortunately so genial that they give even the meanest Buchanan pause whenever it comes to deliberate menacing and petty crimes. Famously, in 1948, a tractor crashed through the roof of Francine Abernathy’s house, and legend has it, she merely went on with her knitting.

The Calhoun* family married into the Bradshaw alignment in 1938 and Roscoe Calhoun was the founding member of it. They are an intelligent bunch, typically holding political office outside of the first responder sector. Though the family never holds the office of Mayor – that’s too public for them – the City Administrator position has been typically held by a Calhoun to keep the Bradshaw family’s hold on power. After being more recently targeted during the feud, some of them can be seen in and out of the Sheriff’s office asking for special assistance.

The Hunnicutt* family were once framed for shooting Old Man Elder’s horse, though it was later proven that he’d shot the horse himself. Since then, they’ve gained a reputation for being loose cannons, known for their propensity towards bar fights and aggressively rolling down their truck windows just to flip an Elder off. In modern language, they’d be called a family of ‘trolls’, with shit-eating grins characteristic to their faces, like they always know what’s up – always a few steps ahead of the game.

The Casarrubias* family are the latest installation of Bradshaw loyalists, hailing from Mexico. They found their place in Reckoning two generations ago. Like many other newcomers, they were made privy to the blood-feud that paints Reckoning’s sunsets and sunrises. They were desperate to remain indifferent, to keep their heads down and keep themselves out of the fray. A message Reckoning interpreted as: Loyal to no one. They remained steadfast in their indifference, determined to turn a blind eye until the unfortunate day they were caught in the crosshairs. They were picked off one by one because of a perceived familiarity with the Bradshaws, so their hatred of the Buchanan family has carved itself into every bone and every vein. They’ve ingratiated themselves to the community as a whole, most taking on roles as civil servants. Though, many can’t help but wonder if their positions are merely just another Bradshaw play for power.

BUCHANAN + ADJACENTS

The Buchanan family are unpredictable, wild and hotheaded. Each member of the family has been mad at a Bradshaw for as long as anyone can remember, for reasons as heavy as the land dispute, all the way to something as petty as a bad parking job at the dive bar, Juniper’s. Though they’ll swear up and down they were framed for the murder of Timothy Bradshaw in 1899, they know what’s on record – they just refuse to admit it. “Never admit to nothin’, because someone’ll hold it against ya,” is the Buchanan credo. They hold their ground and bare their teeth at their enemies, and those newcomers who refuse to choose their sides are bound to have a Buchanan-made molotov cocktail hurtled into their shrubs.

The Jackson* family has been aligned with the Buchanan family as long as anybody can remember. The Jackson’s are all muscle and have been called the “Reckoning Mafia” on more than one occasion. They are at the beck and call of the Buchanan family for any physical solution to an issue. Since the death of Anthony Jackson and the lack of investigation by the Greene County Sheriff’s Office, the Jackson’s have taken up more violent actions without the consent of the Buchanan’s.

The Musselwhites* began their lives in Reckoning modestly, the weight and muscle behind the waves of Buchanan wrath. They became the peace keepers, generations of law-keepers and police officers that stretch back as far as anyone can recall. The most esteemed of the clan hold quite a few positions of power within the city, ranging from judge to deputy. Steadfast in their loyalty, they prize the silent influence they hold over town.

Notorious for their cruelty, the Pickens* clan isn’t one to trifle with. Their reputation is paved in bloody lips and wrong-doings. “Not too far from the tree,” they say, but their tree is rotten. No good comes out of the Pickens family. Born in Reckoning and to her soil they’ll all return. They’ve no aspirations to grow beyond their station. They’ve been called Buchanans’s lap dogs – but only behind the local’s hands, for fear of discovering how black their temper is. Those who are employed can be found in taverns and bars. Some pad their pockets by hunting and fishing. But near all are petty criminals.

The Elder* family will likely never live down the embarrassment of their great grandfather Larry Elder attempting to frame a Hunnicutt for the murder he commited to his own horse. Simple peach farmers, they attempt to keep themselves out of the chaos for the most part, though they are often targets for crimes such as burglary and vandalism. The biggest shock of the past ten years was when one of the current patriarch��s young daughters was kidnapped by a passer-through, prompting the famously Bradshaw-aligned sheriff’s office to help locate her. The Elders now lowkey consider themselves in debt to the Montgomerys, though they will never utter this to a Buchanan, and they are too scared to switch sides.

UNALIGNED

The Brackish* family holds onto their indifference with white-knuckles. They’ve managed to keep themselves out of the dueling families crosshairs, but not out of the fray. They fall in and out of favor, forever swinging the pendulum from usurpers to allies with the Buchanans and Bradshaws. The Brackish family has always kept their eye set on pastures new, reaching far beyond Reckoning. Their wealth and illicit connections make them the unseen powder keg, primed to blow beneath the floorboards. They’ll never bend, nor take a knee. Their loyalty is to their own.

The McCoys* have been serving the town of Reckoning as mayor-or-something-like-it since the town’s inception. They are old money, having had stocks in oil for decades. The McCoy family avoided being forced to pick sides as they were already holding the position of mayor at the time of the first mruder, and have kept themselves there, occasionally sliding money into the hands of a Bradshaw or a Buchanan to keep their shit to their own side of the road.

Medical family Nash* runs the only doctor’s office in town, which is a family-oriented clinic of mostly general practitioners, though they have a few specialists such as a gynecologist, pulmonologist and a cardiologist. They are unfortunately not equipped with the means to perform surgeries or deliver babies, however, so they refer many patients to the larger hospital in Clemency, which is a 30-minute drive away. The Nash family have kept their irons out of the fire since they moved from Greeneville to Reckoning in the early 1930s, having convinced the people of the town that a doctor should always remain neutral.

What keeps the Redwines* from being dragged into the chaos is the very fact that they are the town undertakers, and have been forever. Superstitions seem to abound on the Buchanan side that messing with a mortician will dredge up bad luck, while the Bradshaws merely understand the need for neutrality in such a position. They have seen more oddly murdered cadavers than they care for, but the Redwine family is the only one that can testify in court without the fear of coming home to a dead raccoon on their porch. They make a potent, blackberry cobbler flavored moonshine they call Embalming Fluid, that everyone is afraid to drink.

The Lawtons* are old money, much like the McCoys, though their wealth comes from the tourism that Reckoning sees. They own both Norma’s Nook Bed & Breakfast and Motel Reckoning, along with a few of the shops in the quaint town square. The entire town knows that a Lawton party is the ritziest kind of party one could possibly be invited to, and while the guest list is usually limited to those who they know aren’t going to roll a keg in and cause a ruckus, somehow that still manages to happen each time.

The Turquiz* family has been in Reckoning for quite a long time now, joining the small town from Venezuela. They tend to hold small but important jobs in town, ranging from mechanic to city council, and everything in between. A few members of the family have been known to assist in shady deals with the Brackish family to ensure protection from the on-going feud.

#preview #maggiecreekrp #jcink roleplay #jcink rp #southern gothic rp

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wasalwaysagreatpickle · 4 years ago

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Monday 12 September 1831

5 25/..

At 6 3/4 in going out gave to the waiter or letter carrier for the post my letter to the ‘honourable Lady Stuart, the Lodge, Richmond Park, London and to ‘Lady Duff Gordon, 34 Hertford Street, London’ and ‘Mrs Lawton Warren’s hotel, 1 Regent Street London’, and to ‘Mr Hawkins 26 Dover Street London’ –

Took Cameron and George and off in omnibus at 6 3/4 to the steam carriage station – part of the course lies over water street about 8 carriages in the train, and we were about the middle of it –

Off from the station at 7 1/4 (7 by their clocks) – at 8 stop 5 minutes to exchange passengers at the 1/2 way station, and land at 9 10/60 at the Edgehill grand area, having gone about 29 miles – there per omnibus into Dale street meaning to breakfast at the commercial hotel but had only time to go to a chop house where this was nothing I could eat –

Mrs Sowden of Sutcliffe-wood my neighbour in the omnibus back to the Edgehill grand area – Train of 7 carriages back and I better understanding the thing, got into the very last carriage or sort of open German waggon (merely top covered) with glass windows all along the back so that had a back view all along the line of rail road – for the best place for seeing –

Off from the Edgehill grand area at 10 1/4 and land at the Manchester station at 12 6/.. – off in omnibus and at the new Bridgewater or Royal hotel at 12 1/4 – breakfast at 12 40/.. and off from Manchester at 1 1/2 – stop at the Crown, at Stone, at 8 5/.. – tea, and off again at 8 55/..

Very fine day and very fine night –

#anne lister #anne lister code breaker #1831

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valuationlove-blog · 6 years ago

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Lawton Station House Value Home Video Bluffton SC by Agentiers

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hiredassault · 6 years ago

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Insp:: CAREER.

Age 1-5: Floyd Lawton is born and brought up in a rich family. His father George Lawton is a real estate businessman across the country && his mother Genevieve Pitt belongs to a family of wealthy bankers. Floyd has a brother named Edward Lawton whom he adored more than himself && idolizes him. The family even owns their own railway platform along with a town including the local police station.

Age 5-7: Floyd excels in school like Edward (but Ed is better) at both academics and sports. The kid loves the idle sports (the rich kind of sports) tennis, horse riding or skeet shooting. The house butler, Bartholomew, maintains their daily schedules.

Age 7: Floyd wins 11 trophies for marksmanship already and the boy is climbing the ladder in shooting sport. As too is Edward.

Age 8-9: They start receiving abuses from their drunk father on a daily basis, even the elder man abuses their mother. Hatred for George begins.

Age 10: Hunting is another idle sport, they are now being dragged into woods by George to kill animals and he abuses them if failure occurs. After several attempts, Edward and Floyd murders an innocent deer for the first time in their life.

Age 11: The hunting scares Edward but encourages Floyd to walk into darkness. Thoughts of shooting George crosses but they doesn’t do anything. The hunting and abuses continue.

Age 12: Their mother Genevieve masters a plan of eliminating her husband, she brainwashes Edward to shoot the rifle at their father’s chest but Floyd stops him from killing George. Their father soon figures && starts beating Edward and despite all the protests angry little Floyd picks up the rifle and runs outside to climb up the tree. The aim was perfect. The crosshair targets George. Time to eliminate the evil man. He pulls the trigger but the branch breaks due to overloading and bullet misses the evil man. Edward Lawton is spot dead as the bullet finds his head. Floyd is devastated and broken into pieces. He kills his own brother whom he loved most. Genevieve fails too.

Age 13: The murder of Edward is covered up by George, because they have tremendous influences across the town. Floyd is given a two month break from school && is severely damaged (emotionally) from Edward’s death.

Age 14-17: Normal school life, normal sport activities continue while Floyd promises that he will never miss a shot in his life.

Age 18-19: The U.S. Marine Corps. initiates an internship program from where Floyd is selected for a month training. Immediate absorb to the Sniper Division happens when the authority recognizes that the boy has broken the record of shooting (over 4000 meters for the under 20s).

Age 20: Returns to town in order to complete school. Trains under the professional assassin David Cain, who teaches him his marksmanship abilities.

Age 21-23: Hears about the vigilante named Batman catching robbers and stopping crime. Floyd becomes enthusiastic to become a vigilante and selects a costume (which looks like the old west movies with a zorro mask) && names himself as ‘Dead-Shot ’. Just like Batsignal, he installs Bullseye shaped/Deadshot signal to his town and listens to the police radio to stop criminals. Catching criminals is extremely easy for the man since he uses his revolver to aim and shoot (only to disarm the criminal). But Floyd kills some because he considers of making a permanent solution because what Batman does is temporary && they come back again. Starts working with Commissioner Gordon when Batman is absent.

Age 24: Floyd gets addicted into this job && takes money from mafia rivals to eliminate opponents in their territory. He even sets up criminals where he disarms them to show citizens how successful he is than Batman. Batman has competition now. Realizes Dead-Shot is doing these jobs in exchange of money and killing criminals who could be changed into the path of light since their families depend on their work. Batman does a trick on Dead-Shot’s revolver when he broke into his manor and when they encountered each other Dead-Shot fired a perfect shot. Batman would be dead but the bullet misses him. After years, Dead-Shot misses && it shatters the marksman’s ego. He is taken into prison.

Age 25: His lawyer apparently saves him and Floyd Lawton was out. He thought of changing by marrying Susan. Floyd and Susan has a son then, names the baby after his brother Edward: Eddie. But unfortunate events led him to prison again. Events like murdering criminals again. His lawyer fails to save him now.

Age 26: While in prison, an unknown person visits Lawton and introduces himself as Colonel Rick Flag Jr. and offers him freedom in exchange of suicide missions. Lawton accepts promptly. Floyd Lawton is introduced into the Task Force Team A and to their Commander Amanda Waller. A highly upgraded suit with a red scope attached in the electronic mask is given. Meets Count Vertigo, Bronze Tiger and Captain Boomerang. Also other members. Floyd is officially a Government asset.

Age 27-29: Several Missions are finished and still going on. Gets admitted to Belle Reeve Prison along with the Task Force and receives the news that his son Eddie being kidnapped. During debriefing of a mission by Waller, Lawton leaves the room not caring whether she would detonate the neck bomb or not. She did not (perhaps she knew why he was leaving). Tracks down the kidnappers and ultimately reaches Eddie but the five year little kid is found sexually assaulted and murdered. How more can he break down?

Age 30: Angry Floyd turns rogue. Killing every one who stands in his way or anyone linked with his son’s murder. Nothing can stop him. Dead-Shot is more scarier than Batman now. Every criminal, every thug in dark alleys && even dirty cops were frightened. Is this a revenge? Is this avenging? Dead-Shot is killing and killing and killing to find the murderer. Eventually found the murderer and before even thinking shoots the murderer planting thousands of bullet holes. The murderer is dead but with more self investigation Floyd realizes that it was his mother Genevieve Pitt who is the master-planner of kidnapping her grandson. Time to kill his own mother. But Floyd’s therapist (assigned by Waller; Mernie Herrs) saves Pitt’s life by informing Floyd that this is what his mother wanted. To be killed by him && frame him---- eventually Floyd shoots but letting his mother suffer from the bullet wound to what she has done to her own grandson. Floyd escapes before cops arrive.

Age 31: Susan commits suicide.

Age 32: Floyd Lawton has nothing to live for. Suicidal tendencies comes into his mind. He even shot himself but finds himself to be alive as the bullet missed his heart. After several resurrections, he decides to stay with the Suicide Squad hoping he would die suddenly. (A peculiar relation is developed between Harley Quinn and him.)

Age 33: Standing at the graveyard thinking about his son Eddie one day, his lawyer appears with documents informing the death of George and Genevieve Lawton && it is Floyd’s responsibility regarding all the fortunes. Inside Lawton manor, as he is reading legal documents he finds a letter from a woman named Michelle Torres (whom he remembers---- from a random strip club 7 or 8 years ago) informing George that he has a granddaughter named Zoe. Floyd Lawton was a father of an eight year old girl. Without wasting time he meets them and offers the money (fortune) as protection but gets rejected. Soon the war between Mafia gangs in the Triangle (the neighborhood where Zoe and Michelle lived) is stopped by Dead-Shot when Lawton encountered Green Arrow (again). Arrow promises him to look after the Triangle and Lawton decides to make a fake death so that all the fortune goes to his daughter Zoe and she can then able to go to school.

Age 34: Leaves Suicide Squad and joins a covert operative team called Secret Six. With Catman, Bane, Ragdoll, Scandal, Knockout and Banshee they complete several missions.

Age 35-36: The Secret Six continues and Floyd Lawton looks after his daughter time to time in disguise.

Age 37: Sets up a private security organization of his own (mostly military contracting) and travels to other countries (usually war torn) where his employees are deployed. Also works as a professional hitman.

Age 38: Unfortunate events against the Justice League and he is again back to prison where Waller once again recruits him making sure there is no charges against him. The End to Secret Six officially.

Age 39: In and out of Suicide Squad like a yo-yo. Working as hitman when not in Waller’s radar.

Age 40: (Current age of the character. Roleplay verses depends on plot. This career post is comic based and a small extension of canon.)

#about;#career post;#muse;#timeline;#my floyd might be different -shrugs-

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lboogie1906 · 2 years ago

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Mel Streeter (1931 – June 12, 2006) was born in Riverside, California. He attended the University of Oregon on a basketball scholarship and was the second African-American basketball player at Oregon after declining an offer by legendary basketball coach John Wooden to attend UCLA because UCLA did not have an architecture program. He graduated with a BS in architecture. At the University of Oregon, he was enrolled in the Army ROTC program. After serving as a second lieutenant in the transport unit at Ft. Lawton, Washington from 1955 to 1957, he stayed in Seattle to raise a family and tried finding work at local architectural firms. He struck out 22 times before he found work with Paul Hayden Kirk and Fred Bassetti. In 1967, he opened the third African American-owned architecture firm in Seattle. In the 1970s, he teamed with Paul Dermanis to form Streeter/Dermanis. By the early 1990s, the two partners had split and he created Streeter & Associates Architects. The firm is known for projects such as Auburn City Hall, the Federal Aviation Administration Regional Headquarters, and several buildings at Naval Station Everett in Everett, Washington. Some of the firm’s community facilities include John Muir Elementary School, the Rainier Beach High School Performance Hall, and the African American Academy. He designed a 64-unit senior housing complex for Mount Zion Baptist Church and was part of the Safeco Field, Qwest Stadium, and SeaTac airport design teams. A pillar of the African American community in Seattle, he was a Seattle Planning Commissioner. He was a founding member of the AIA Seattle Diversity Roundtable and the Tabor 100. He was active in the professional African American men’s organization, the Breakfast Group. As an African American architect, he opened doors for other architects of color and some of the city’s best-known architects. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence https://www.instagram.com/p/Ce0qUBvuYJ1Gk_-1KAJtjQMqncPA68ff2g5EdY0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

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themeatlife · 3 years ago

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September 11, 2001

Tuesday morning in the late summer. I didn’t have class until 2pm that day, partially by design and partially because of my limited selection being an incoming freshman when I enrolled. To be honest I can’t remember what class it was that I had that day, that first semester of college wasn’t my best academically.

My friends and I had been getting into the routine of eating breakfast at the cafe before their morning classes. I would wake up to join, eat, and go back to bed. Had to take advantage of the decent meal plan that the University of Oklahoma had at the time (I hear it has improved since I’ve been there).

A bit before 8am, we head back to Walker Tower. My friends including my roommate getting ready for their classes, me brushing my teeth to go back to bed. Our room was the hangout room for my friends from Lawton, generically nicknamed “The Spot” by me. I was into nicknaming things and people in college.

Aaron, my roommate gets a call on our room line. Odd it wasn’t on his cell phone. It was his girlfriend, she lived back home in Lawton where we were from. She had called saying there was a plane that had crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers. She wasn’t very specific, so we thought it was a small biplane that hit the building. We were pretty dismissive about it, not sure why. Aaron left for class, I lied down.

But something eventually didn’t feel right.

We didn’t have cable or an antenna for our TV, we were cheap freshmen. So I hopped onto my laptop. Every news site I went to was down. ABC. NBC. CBS. CNN. New York Times. Error. Could not load site.

The rooms in Walker Tower shared a bathroom, two rooms connected by a bathroom made a suite. We were pretty cool with our suitemates. I yelled through the bathroom “Hey! You guys home?” They had cable. Silence.

So I turned to the final media left. I had an alarm clock with a radio. I didn’t know which station was a news station, but in this case I didn’t have to. Every station was on NPR or some type of news. I stopped on one station just as they narrated that a second plane came in and hit the south tower of the World Trade Center.

The rest of the day was kind of a blur here and there. I remember my friends shortly after I turned the radio coming back to the room, their classes cancelled. They said all the TVs in the Union and where ever on campus had the news on. My 2pm was cancelled but no email about my 6pm one (yeah, I really had a shitty schedule). We listened to the radio as the Pentagon was hit. Our suitemates came back to their room and we turned on the TV to see the south tower of the World Trade Center collapse.

My friend Ethan got a call from his dad shortly after lunchtime saying we better stock up on gas, because there was talk about gas prices going up if there was an war coming to the Middle East in response to these attacks. So Ethan and I drove around Norman looking for a gas station that wasn’t busy, every place with a line flowing out to the street with prices as high as $6/gallon at some places we passed by.

That afternoon we talked about who it could be that was behind this tragedy. Aaron and Garrison went over and over about Osama bin Laden, a guy I remember was interviewed in 1998 by American media shortly before his organization al-Qaeda carried out dual bombings of American embassies in Tanzania and Kenya.

I called home at some point. My parents and brother were okay. My sister in Texas was okay as well. My mom was scheduled to work that morning, she had worked at the military clothing sales store on Fort Sill at the time. She said they closed the post and there was a long line. She had to wait a while before she was able to turn around and go home.

For the last few years prior, the checkpoints to get into Fort Sill were open. They hadn’t checked IDs and closed the gates in years. September 10th was the last full day Fort Sill was open like that. I had been home a couple times since college started and on the way back to Norman from my parents’ house I used to go up 52nd/53rd and took the gate into Fort Sill, taking the winding countryside roads on post to make my way to I-44.

Labor Day was the last time I took that route.

I eventually made my way to my 6pm class that day. Calc II. The instructor said something I will never forget. “I’m not cancelling class. That is how the terrorists win.”

That Friday I went back home. I didn’t plan to come back for another month since I was just there Labor Day weekend, but I felt I needed to.

You know the story thereafter for America. “United We Stand” for a few months and then the broad War on Terror, wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and the Patriot Act initially the consensus but since (and among other things), dividing the country. Air travel is so different now than it was pre-9/11. The American economy has been shakily recovering since an initial collapse after 2001. Almost ten years after the attacks, on May 2, 2011, a Navy Seals team kills bin Laden in Afghanistan neighbor Pakistan. Troops only just recently leave Afghanistan. A nation once pretty united right after the attacks now painfully divided.

We all have complicated feelings about all these things since 9/11. But we all remember how we got to this point, Americans all remember where we were on September 11th. Every generation has a touchpoint where they remember specifics of where they were when it happened. My generation has had quite a few of these touchpoints, to be honest.

We all remember the fallen.

9/11/2001

AA11 08:46

UA175 09:03

AA77 09:37

UA93 10:03

2977

World Trade Center

Pentagon

Somerset County

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

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