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newstfionline · 2 years ago

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Friday, April 7, 2023

Missouri tornado kills 5 in latest wave of severe weather (AP) A tornado ripped through southeastern Missouri before dawn on Wednesday, killing five people and causing widespread destruction as the third in a series of deadly massive storms over the past two weeks struck the nation’s heartland. Forecasters are keeping a wary eye out for more extreme weather as this year’s early severe storm season continues. The storms have spawned dozens of tornadoes, mainly in the South and Midwest, that have killed at least 63 people. Just last weekend, confirmed or suspected tornadoes in at least eight states laid waste to neighborhoods across a broad swath of the country. The Missouri tornado touched down around 3:30 a.m. Wednesday and moved through a rural area of Bollinger County, about 50 miles (80 kilometers) south of St. Louis. Trees were uprooted, homes turned into piles of splinters, and one building was flipped on its side.

5 arrested after suspected cartel killings near Cancún beach resort (Washington Post) Mexican government officials sought to reassure tourists in the popular resort destination of Cancún that they are safe after four bodies were found in the area’s hotel zone this week. Police responded to an emergency call Monday morning from an area near the Fiesta Americana Condesa Cancún, an all-inclusive beachfront hotel. Investigators first found three bodies, but later discovered a fourth in some bushes, according to the Quintana Roo state attorney general’s office. The four—all Mexican nationals—“were executed on the spot,” according to a person close to the investigation. The Coordination Group for the Construction of Peace and Security in Quintana Roo, a coalition of military and law enforcement, said in a statement Tuesday the victims were believed to be selling and distributing drugs. Five suspects are in custody.

Cubans suffer days-long wait for fuel with little explanation (Reuters) Lines for fuel in Cuba´s capital Havana snaked for blocks on Wednesday as frustrated citizens waited for hours, and in some cases days, to fill their tanks, the latest chapter in a growing economic crisis that is rattling the Caribbean island nation. Public transportation, tourists and taxi drivers have all suffered in recent months as the shortages have grown increasingly acute, raising tensions in the country´s most populous city. “I’ve been three days waiting in this line for gasoline and we still don´t know if the (fuel) truck will arrive today,” said private taxi driver Alexander Pérez, 43. “The situation across the country is critical and the lines endless, and they don´t give any explanation.”

Peru ex-leader Toledo loses bid to stop extradition from US (AP) A U.S. appeals court panel on Wednesday denied an appeal by former Peruvian President Alejandro Toledo Manrique to stop his extradition to face charges he accepted millions of dollars in bribes as part of a mammoth corruption scandal in which four of Peru’s ex-presidents have been implicated. Toledo, 77, is accused of taking $20 million in bribes from Odebrecht, a giant Brazilian construction company that has admitted to U.S. authorities that it bribed officials to win contracts throughout Latin America for decades. The Odebrecht corruption scandal has shaken Peru’s politics, with nearly every living former president now on trial or under investigation.

Ukraine War Plans Leak Prompts Pentagon Investigation (NYT) Classified war documents detailing secret American and NATO plans for building up the Ukrainian military ahead of a planned offensive against Russia were posted this week on social media channels, senior Biden administration officials said. The Pentagon is investigating who may have been behind the leak of the documents, which appeared on Twitter and on Telegram, a platform with more than half a billion users that is widely available in Russia. The disclosures, which appear as photographs of charts of anticipated weapons deliveries, troop and battalion strengths, and other plans, represents a significant breach of American intelligence in the effort to aid Ukraine. The documents do not provide specific battle plans, but the documents no doubt offer many tantalizing clues. The documents mention, for instance, the expenditure rate of HIMARS—American-supplied high mobility artillery rocket systems, which can launch attacks against targets like ammunition dumps, infrastructure and concentrations of troops, from a distance. The Pentagon has not said publicly how fast Ukrainian troops are using the HIMARS munitions; the documents do.

Zelensky Gets Hero’s Welcome in Poland, Cementing Ukraine’s Ties (NYT) Feted as a hero who is saving Europe from Russia’s maw, President Volodymyr Zelensky of Ukraine, on his first official visit to Poland, on Wednesday cemented a new axis of shared interests and military power that is pushing Europe’s center of geopolitical gravity eastward. The Ukrainian leader, who traded his signature olive green sweatshirt for a more formal black one, won strong backing from Polish leaders for his country’s rapid entry into NATO—still a remote prospect given the wariness of Western European members—and signed a deal paving the way for the joint production of arms and ammunition. While scattered street protests by Polish farmers angry at a glut of Ukrainian grain introduced a sour note—and prompted the resignation of Poland’s agriculture minister shortly after Mr. Zelensky arrived—the Ukrainian leader received a rapturous reception in Warsaw, bedecked with the flags of the two neighbors.

Rare meeting (NYT) Beijing accused the United States and Taiwan of “serious wrongdoing” after Taiwanese President Tsai Ing-wen met with Speaker Kevin McCarthy (R-Calif.) and a bipartisan group of House lawmakers on Wednesday, in a historic gathering where both sides reaffirmed their commitment to preserving freedom amid escalating tensions with China. Various Chinese ministries released coordinated statements condemning the meeting on Thursday morning local time. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs said that the United States had ignored “repeated warnings” against allowing Tsai to visit and promised “resolute and forceful measures to defend national sovereignty and territorial integrity in response to the serious wrongdoing of U.S.-Taiwan colluding together.” State broadcaster China Central Television accused the United States of using Taiwan as a “chess piece” in a strategy of containment and as an “ATM for American arms sellers.”

China to inspect ships in Taiwan Strait, Taiwan says won’t cooperate (Reuters) China’s Fujian maritime safety administration launched a three-day special joint patrol and inspection operation in the central and northern parts of the Taiwan Strait that includes moves to board ships, it said on its WeChat account. The maritime safety authority in the southeastern Chinese province said on Wednesday the operation included “on-site inspections” on direct cargo ships and construction vessels on both sides of the Taiwan Strait “to ensure the safety of vessel navigation and ensure the safe and orderly operation of key projects on water”. Taiwan’s Transport Ministry’s Maritime and Ports Bureau said in a statement that it has notified relevant shipping operators that if they encounter such requests from China they should refuse them and immediately notify Taiwan’s coast guard to render assistance.

Thai police say Chinese church members to be deported soon (AP) More than 60 self-exiled members of a Chinese Christian church who were detained in Thailand after receiving U.N. refugee status will be deported by next week, probably to a third country, officials said Wednesday. Deputy national police chief Surachate Hakparn said representatives of Thailand’s Foreign Ministry and Immigration Bureau were holding talks with the U.N. Refugee Agency and the U.S. Embassy to discuss the fate of the 63 members of the Shenzhen Holy Reformed Church who were taken to court in the coastal city of Pattaya last Friday. The members of the church, also known as the Mayflower Church, were granted refugee status by the U.N. agency after their arrival in Thailand last year. They say they faced unbearable harassment in China and are seeking asylum in the United States. An Immigration Bureau official with knowledge of Wednesday’s multi-agency discussions said the Thai authorities would “find a way” for the church members to be sent to a third country.

Thousands still missing from 20 years of Iraq’s turmoil (AP) Nawal Sweidan quietly folded her son’s clothes and straightened the bedsheets in his room as she always used to do when he was out at work or at university. She still does it regularly, even though he hasn’t been home for almost 10 years since he was taken away by militiamen. Her son Safaa vanished in late July 2014. At around 1:30 a.m., just days before the holy month of Ramadan was to end and holiday celebrations were to begin, a group of men showed up at the family’s doorstep and asked for Safaa, a law student and postal carrier in his early 20s. “They told us they just wanted to question him and will return him soon,” Sweidan said. Twenty years after the 2003 U.S.-led invasion of Iraq, much of the conflict and sectarian bloodletting it unleashed has subsided. But those years left a legacy of thousands of people—or perhaps tens of thousands, like Safaa—who went missing, and their families feel forgotten as they seek answers about their loved ones’ fates. As it tries to turn the page on Iraq’s troubled past, the government has not established a commission to look into the missing—in part, rights workers say, because politicians are intertwined with armed groups involved in kidnappings and killings.

Israel strikes Gaza after dozens of rockets fired from Lebanon (Washington Post) The Israeli military carried out airstrikes in the Gaza Strip overnight Thursday in response to a rare barrage of rockets fired from south Lebanon, raising the specter of a broader regional conflict after Israeli police raids on one of Islam’s holiest sites. While most of the 34 rockets from Lebanon on Thursday were intercepted by Israel’s aerial defense system, according to the Israel Defense Forces (IDF), at least six landed in Israeli territory, and a 19-year-old man was lightly injured by shrapnel. The IDF also said that five surface-to-air rockets were launched from Gaza during the day on Thursday, and at least nine more overnight amid the Israeli strikes, local media reported. Thursday’s rocket fire followed a second night of violence around Jerusalem’s al-Aqsa Mosque after Israeli police stormed the area, using stun grenades, rubber bullets and batons to disperse thousands of worshipers who had gathered in the courtyard for Ramadan prayers. At least six Palestinians were injured, according to the Palestine Red Crescent Society. It said 37 were injured the night before, on Tuesday, when Israeli officers forced their way into one of the mosque’s main prayer halls after worshipers had locked themselves inside. Worshipers threw stones and firecrackers at them, police said, and videos from the scene showed officers beating people with batons.

Pope washes feet in Holy Thursday rite at Rome youth prison (AP) In a Holy Thursday ritual symbolizing humility, Pope Francis washed and dried the feet of a dozen residents of a Rome juvenile prison, assuring them of their dignity and telling them “any of us” can fall into sin. The Casal del Marmo facility on the outskirts of Rome is the same juvenile prison where Francis performed the first feet-washing ritual of his papacy, demonstrating his belief that the Catholic Church should give attention to people living on society’s margins. On Thursday, Francis repeated the ritual on 10 male and two female residents who are serving time at the facility. He leaned over and poured water on one foot of each, then used a white towel to gently pat the foot dry before kissing it. When Francis looked up at them in turn to smile, they shook his hand and kissed it. Many of the young people whispered into the pope’s ear, and he chatted with them briefly in return.

#headlines #news

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davidanderson121 · 2 years ago

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Bankruptcy Carle Place - Law Offices of Scott R. Schneider

Levittown Bankruptcy Attorney: Things To Know Before You Go What happens when a company goes bankrupt? The answer, unfortunately, is not always pretty. In fact, Levittown—an iconic postwar suburb in Long Island, New York—is a perfect example of what can happen when a company fails. If you are considering filing for bankruptcy yourself, there are a few things you should know. This article will provide an overview of the process and advise you on some key things to keep in mind. From filling out paperwork to understanding your options, read on to learn everything you need to know before filing for bankruptcy. Bankruptcy Carle Place What is a Levittown Bankruptcy Attorney? A Levittown bankruptcy attorney can help you to resolve your financial problems and get on the road to rebuilding your life. Here are some things to know before you go: 1. A Levittown bankruptcy lawyer can help you to understand your options and guide you through the process. 2. You don't need to file for bankruptcy if all you want is a fresh start. There are other options available, such as reorganization or debt settlement, that may be better suited for your situation. 3. It can take several months to file for a Levittown bankruptcy, so it's important to seek legal assistance as soon as possible if you're struggling with debt. 4. If you decide to file for bankruptcy, be prepared for longterm consequences, including decreased credit ratings and higher borrowing costs. What are the Different Types of Levittown Bankruptcies? There are different types of Levittown bankruptcies, and knowing the type of bankruptcy you are filing is important because it can impact your rights and how much money you will get. The main types of Levittown bankruptcies are: residential mortgage foreclosure, Chapter 11 bankruptcy, and Chapter 7 bankruptcy. Residential Mortgage Foreclosure: This is the most common type of bankruptcy in Levittown. A homeowner files for residential mortgage foreclosure when their mortgage payments become too big or too expensive to keep up with and they can no longer afford their home. Chapter 11 Bankruptcy: Chapter 11 bankruptcy is a more complex type of bankruptcy that is usually used by companies or businesses that are in debt too much to try to reorganize their finances. With chapter 11, the debtor still owes some money, but they can keep their business going while they try to get their debts paid off. Chapter 7 Bankruptcy: Chapter 7 bankruptcy is for people who have problems with only one thing - their debt. With this type of bankruptcy, a person must sell all of their assets (including the house) to qualify for relief from their creditors. What are the Requirements for filing a Levittown Bankruptcy? There are some important things to know before filing for bankruptcy in Levittown, NY. First and foremost, you must be insolvent – meaning that you cannot pay your debts as they come due. Next, you must have a good credit history. Finally, file the proper paperwork with the court. Here are more details on each of these requirements. Insolvency: To qualify for bankruptcy in Levittown, NY, you must be insolvent – meaning that you cannot pay your debts as they come due. This means that your total liabilities (what you owe) must exceed your total assets (what you own). In order to determine whether or not you are insolvent, the court will look at both your current financial situation and your past financial history. Good Credit History: Another requirement for filing for bankruptcy in Levittown, NY is a good credit history. The court will not approve your case if it believes that it would be too difficult or costly to collect on any debt that you might owe during the bankruptcy process. Therefore, it is important to maintain a good credit score so that you can avoid this difficulty.

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radiant-reid · 3 years ago

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Love/Hate Island

Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Spencer Reid's decision to conceal the breakup with his girlfriend of two years becomes a problem when Rossi orders him to bring her to his new Long Island mansion on a week-long vacation with the team. Can their relationship be fixed? Do they want it to be?

Summary: Spencer's lies, both by omission and outright, become an immediate issue. A call to his ex-girlfriend, asking for a favor, plays out better than he expected

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: swearing | tiny sexual allusion

Word Count: 2.6k

A/n: I have no impulse control posting this... I’m just too excited

Spencer decided after 1 week that he was over it. He read studies, like usual, they suggested it took anywhere from 21 days to 11 weeks to 3 and a half months, to half the time you were with that person- in Spencer's case, 1 year- but Spencer was never average.

It took the average student 8.2 years to complete a doctorate degree, with a bachelor's degree in the same subject. Spencer had gotten two in 4 years while also getting two additional BAs (4 years, on average, of study each)

So he didn't think it odd that he was able to cram his grieving into 7 days. It was useful. It meant he could properly focus on the case that the BAU had 5 days after the breakup.

No one noticed- a fact he was grateful for after he tried to make it inconspicuous. That did mean not telling the team about it. Not Derek, or JJ, or Emily, or Penelope. Not a single one of them knew. He went on like normal, possibly- although he'd never admit it- compartmentalizing the unbearably upsetting event.

So yeah, he was over it. He barely thought about it. Those two years were pushed out of his brain.

It wasn't even on his mind that Wednesday afternoon, 6 weeks after the breakup.

"Everybody, I've got an announcement." Rossi dramatically spoke once the team had hauled themselves into the round table room. Hotch was absent, but it wasn't close to his birthday, so it couldn't be about a surprise party. Garcia, practically jumping up and down next to him, obviously already knew. She always knew everything, apart from Spencer's breakup. A fact he was inwardly smug about.

Spencer wasn't sure where it was going, but he felt slightly uneasy about the whole thing.

"I've brought a new mansion in Long Island, and I'm throwing a little house warming party," Rossi revealed, looking around the table to catch their reactions. It didn't sound too bad to Spencer, spending a weekend at Rossi's. He loved the team, and they were always good fun. "Hotch has already approved for us to all have a week off, so no excuses." He continued.

Spencer's enthusiasm was dwindling as he thought of his ex-girlfriend. Intelligently, and because he knew it was a complete lie, when Y/n's name first came up after the breakup, he told them she was in New York.

She was in New York for work, he wasn't sure how long she spent there, but he knew she went there after the breakup for a criminal trial.

Spencer watched as JJ and Emily hugged Rossi, congratulating and thanking him.

"Will and Henry are invited, too," Rossi told JJ. That did make Spencer more excited. "Hotch is bringing Jack. You can all bring someone." He announced to the group.

Spencer gulped, preparing to lie and say Y/n was visiting family. Honestly, he had no idea where she'd been for the last 4 weeks.

"Reid, you've got to bring Y/n. We haven't seen her in weeks." Rossi's eyes flicked to the youngest person in the room.

Shit, now he was in trouble. "Oh, um, Y/n might have a heavy caseload," Spencer spoke as he tried to keep his tone even. He figured they would understand, often missing things due to their jobs.

While the BAU caught the criminals, Y/n prosecuted or defended them. It was how they came to know each other. Hotch, when he was an attorney, was her mentor while she was still in law school. Once she finished and was living in DC, they kept in touch, and she met Spencer. They didn't start dating until after Haley died, odd how death brought people together. Y/n was spending more time with Jack which led to her in the office a few times while Spencer was there.

"We haven't seen her in, what, a month?" Emily asked, tipping her head to the side like she was suggesting something else was going on.

Her guess was two weeks out from the truth, but Spencer wasn't about to correct her.

"Where are you keeping her, Spence?" JJ asked, joining in on the interrogation.

Morgan just chuckled as he looked at Spencer's blushing cheeks.

Feeling like he was under the spotlight, Spencer snapped. "Fine, she'll come." He said it without thinking. Only after realizing he was going to have to backtrack somehow.

"Perfect." Rossi hummed, a smile on his lips. It annoyed Spencer how much the team liked Y/n. That was another reason he didn't tell them he thought they'd take his side. "We're taking the jet in a week" Rossi held up one finger to punctuate his point.

Spencer tried to push it out of his mind for the rest of the day, determined to finish his paperwork so he could go home early.

It was just before 5 when he took a few files to Hotch's office.

"Hotch, these are from the South Carolina case," Spencer announced after knocking on the door.

Hotch looked up from his desk, pen still in hand, meeting Spencer's eyes. The intense stare made him gulp, worried Hotch knew something. Knew about his little secret.

"Here's fine, Reid," Hotch said, tapping a pile on the cluttered but organized desk. Spencer nodded, placing the files down and ready to scurry out of the room. "I was talking to Y/n earlier." He mentioned, voice even-toned. Spencer froze where he was standing, palms starting to sweat. He tried to regulate his breathing, but it wasn't working.

Hotch was such a good profiler he was able to remain completely neutral. It meant Spencer couldn't determine whether or not he knew.

Spencer attempted to do the same thing, but it didn't work. "Oh?" In his own tone, he could hear the nervousness.

"She said you hadn't told her about Rossi's yet," Hotch explained, face still stoic.

Spencer wasn't sure whether to lie and potentially get caught out or not. "Oh, my phone's dead." That wasn't a lie. To accentuate his point, he held up the flat phone.

As he stood under Hotch's stare, he felt incredibly sorry for Jack. That kid would never be able to sneak out of the house. And if he did, he'd crack the next day when Hotch asked how he'd slept.

Hotch nodded sharply. "Oh." He said, still Spencer couldn't work out if he knew. "I'm sure she'll be able to come now that she's finishing up in Pittsburg tomorrow." So that's where she was.

Spencer realized that must have meant Y/n hadn't told Hotch they'd broken up, despite how close she was to his Unit Cheif.

"I bet you missed her," Hotch commented, ripping Spencer out of his overthinking.

Spencer forced himself to nod, plastering a smile on his face. "Yeah, but it's similar to being apart when I'm on cases." He lied, hoping Hotch wouldn't notice.

"Still, you should go home and call her," Hotch said sympathetically. Spencer always felt nervous around Hotch, like the cliche of how he was supposed to react around Y/n's father. Hotch, he knew, was much scarier.

Spencer nodded again, smiling more happily. "Yeah, I will." Lie.

"Good." Hotch didn't notice. Maybe he was blinded by his father-like affection for Y/n. "I'm really proud of her." He commented absentmindedly.

Spencer replied without missing a beat. "Me too." He didn't have to lie that time.

"Goodnight, Spencer." Hotch farewelled him.

"Goodnight, sir," Spencer replied before leaving the room. Once he was outside, he took a deep breath, immediately relaxing. He touched a hand to his cheek, hoping it wasn't too hot. It was. He just hoped Hotch figured it was in adoration of his ex-girlfriend.

Spencer raced to grab his messenger bag, walking out of the building as quickly as he could. He thought the entire way to the metro. Even the whole train ride where he usually read, subsequently receiving odd looks from strangers, who assumed he was skipping books around Quantum mechanics.

Finally, once he was back in his new apartment, he felt like he could breathe again.

Getting around the address line on his personal information form was something he figured would be challenging. It wasn't. He simply brought Garcia a new mug. Telling her it was waiting in the kitchen, with her favorite tea in it, was enough of a distraction for him to change the detail.

Unsure of why he was doing it, Spencer plugged in his phone to charge. It wasn't exactly like he wanted to call Y/n. But he was now in a complicated position. Y/n knew. Spencer now knew she knew. Spencer didn't know if Y/n knew that he knew. His head was a mess.

He didn't have the chance to decide if he was going to call when his phone rang. Y/n's ringtone. The ringtone she set the first night they slept together, insisting he needed to know when it was her calling. Spencer hadn't forgotten about it, but he didn't know how to change it, and he couldn't exactly ask Garcia.

After sucking in a sharp breath, reassuring himself he was completely over her, he answered the call.

"Y/n." Without seeing her, it was a lot easier to maintain a Hotch-like tone.

"Spencer fucking Reid." She answered, tone dripping with disdain. Disdain for him. "Why did I get a call from my favorite member of the BAU, that would be Aaron, that I'm invited to Rossi's new mansion with you?" She asked, clearly mad at him.

Spencer smirked smugly. "Oh, well, that would be because you are." He sarcastically answered, determined to piss her off as much as he could. In hindsight, it wasn't a good idea. After all, he needed a favor from her and a pretty big one at that.

"Great, thank you so much, Genius." She replied just as sarcastically before her voice changed back to angry. "Why does he think we're still in a relationship?"

"Oh, right." Spencer played it dumb. "That would be because I didn't tell anyone we broke up." He replied, trying to sound confident.

He could imagine Y/n throwing her arms up in the air, feeling like she was fighting a losing battle with him. "Could you maybe explain why that was? Because the last time we talked about our relationship, we both agreed it was over." She kept her tone just as hateful, but she wasn't yelling.

Spencer wasn't exactly sure how to explain it. He definitely wasn't about to tell her the truth. He was about to say it never came up, but he respected her more than that. "I know it's over. I just didn't want to tell them?" He said like it was a question, voice jumping up an octave.

"Well, that's really unhelpful because now Aaron thinks we're still together," Y/n replied quickly, determined not to let him beat her.

"Okay, so, why didn't you tell Hotch we weren't dating?" Spencer quipped cleverly.

The silence was enough to tell him she didn't have a good enough answer. Still, she spat one out. "That was your responsibility. You work with him."

"You've known him longer," Spencer argued. Despite the fact he needed a favor, something about her infuriated him.

"Seriously, Spencer, this is so stupid. Just, please, let me get on with my life." She begged. Spencer could tell there was something sad in her tone.

He didn't press her on it, not wanting to give her the illusion he cared and not willing to stoop as low as to tease her. He did, however, beg. "Come with me, please."

Y/n huffed into the phone, verbally expressing her contempt. "Why? Why can't you just tell them we broke up?"

Spencer was smart enough to dodge the question. "Jack's coming." He attempted to persuade her. "I'm sure you've not seen him or Hotch since you've been in Pittsburg." He continued smugly. While he knew it was morally wrong to guilt-trip her, he did so anyway, absolutely trying to avoid telling the team of their split.

Before he could keep going, Y/n cut him off. "How do you know about Pittsburg?" She demanded. Before he could reply, she figured it out, still as sharp as ever. "Aaron."

"Mmhm. So, a week in David Rossi's new mansion?" Spencer offered like she was actually his girlfriend. "You don't even have to speak to me." He tried, still not receiving an answer.

Y/n groaned, knowing what her answer was going to be. She hated herself for it. "Fine." She agreed with as neutral a word as she could think of. "But we are not getting back together, nor are we together." She stated firmly. She was willing to lie to them for a week so, she got to leave them properly. Plus, Rossi's new house was bound to be exquisite.

"Always a stickler for the rules," Spencer commented under his breath but loud enough for her to hear. He knew remarks like that would irritate her, they always used to.

He could almost imagine her eye roll and the way she'd bite her lip to suppress an outburst. "You piss me off. I hope you know that." She simply stated, but he already knew that.

Spencer ignored the comment, also something that would annoy her. "Do you want to come over?" He asked smugly.

"Absolutely not. We're not getting back together, so I'm not coming to your apartment." Y/n spat back almost instantly.

Spencer knew what his words were insinuating. He'd said the identical words multiple times before they lived together. Either for some mind-blowing sex or just a deep late-night conversation.

"Didn't mean it like that, princess." He teased, unable to continue before she cut him off.

"Do not call me that, Reid." She insisted. Surprisingly, it was a pet name he'd never used before. If he had, while they were dating, she would have thought it was sweet, but she couldn't hear anything in his voice other than taunting.

"Alright, alright, calm down." Spencer was absolutely never that condescending. Then again, he'd never had an ex-girlfriend with two years of relationship history. "All I'm saying is I've clearly missed a lot. That's going to be apparent if we turn up to Rossi's, and I don't know where you've been for the last 6 weeks." He explained.

As much as Y/n was loathed to admit it, he was right. At least she wasn't able to kid herself into thinking he actually cared. "Agreed, but, firstly, if we weren't in this situation, which is your fault, my whereabouts would be absolutely none of your business." She firmly stated, pushing back where ever possible. "Secondly, I'm not coming to your apartment. We can meet somewhere neutral." She decided.

Spending extra time with Spencer wasn't something she wanted to do. However, she realized, it would be very apparent if she hopped on the jet, and it was the first time she'd seen him in a month and a half.

"Perfect," Spencer replied, trying to sound as joyful as possible. "Breakfast tomorrow, anywhere you want."

Y/n thought about it for a second. Clearly, she knew she was going to have to see him. She just didn't expect it was going to be so soon. "There's a great place by my apartment. I'll text you to address." She almost said it like she said in the early stages of their relationship. A fact that nauseated her.

"See you there at 8, princess." Spencer farewelled, quickly hanging up with a chuckle, feeling like he'd won.

Next chapter

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bankruptcylawli · 5 years ago

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Chapter 7 Bankruptcy in Long Island

Kenneth Halpern is the best-experienced Bankruptcy and Attorney Lawyer in Long Island. A bankruptcy attorney helps you out in selecting the best possible solution for a debt crisis. Moreover, a good bankruptcy attorney can make all the difference when it comes to salvaging an already bad situation. This type of bankruptcy filing helps individuals or businesses in disposing of unsecured debts, such as credit cards and medical bills. If the debtor owns nonexempt such as second homes and vehicles or valuable family heirlooms etc. the debt has to be repaid partially or fully (as can be covered) by the sale of those assets. In case, the debtor has no other valuable assets and owns only exempt property i.e. household goods, clothing, tools of the trade and a personal vehicle (of a certain value), they are exempted from repayment of the unsecured debt.

#Chapter 7 Bankruptcy in Long Island #Bankruptcy and Attorney Lawyer in Long Island

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 4 years ago

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If You Love Someone, Let Them Go: Part 11

Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordham. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

A/N: One of the first chapters I wrote.

March 2016:

“I don’t like this,” Victoria muttered, brushing his hair back.

“I know, doll. I’ll be home soon enough, okay?” He was going undercover, staying in a shelter for sex offenders, and she was clinging to him beforehand. Sonny was thankful when Victoria came home with a bag of clothes he was inheriting from Margy’s husband so that he didn’t have to bring anything from this home after. The only thing he refused was taking his ring off, working marriage into his back story. It wouldn’t come off again.

“I know. I just hate knowing where you’ll be. Who you’ll be around.”

“Me too, Tor. I gotta pretend I’m one of them.”

“We’ll go see Bella and Tommy when you’re home. Play with our newest niece.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

“I love you, Dom. I’ll miss you.”

“I love you, Tor. I’ll miss you too. Be home as soon as I can, okay? You call Liv if you need anything. Amanda has your number too, in case she needs help with Jessie.”

“I know. Go catch the bad guy, okay?”

He kissed her softly, and she ruffled his hair as he left. Sonny didn’t want to look too much like himself for this. She’d suggested the name Smitty, mostly as a joke when they were watching some movie. It was a week and a half before he could come home. Once they thought they had Loomis, and then realized Richie was involved too, Sonny got to come home and shed the persona before returning to the precinct. Of course, Victoria didn’t know any of this; she just knew Sonny would need support.

In the time he’d been gone, she’d been feeling under the weather, so when he got home, she was sipping ginger tea in a vain attempt to settle her stomach. He dropped the duffel bag when the door was locked, immediately starting to peel off the jacket, then the inherited hoodie, then the jeans that didn’t fit right and drop them on the bag.

“I gotta wash this off,” he said plainly as he went for the shower. It was a habit he’d taken to as he figured out how to separate the days on the job that felt like they stuck with him the most. Sonny would shower, though he usually didn’t feel such an aversion to his clothing, and then talk to her once he felt better. This time, she went to the bathroom after a while, sitting on the toilet seat.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I guess.” The water shut off, and he pulled the curtain back to get a towel. “I didn’t like pretending I had pictures of kids. But it also was weird? I don’t think any of those guys got enough time. But I was also, like, playin’ dominoes with them. Can make you wonder if they’re the same guy as before they did time.”

“I know that’s not easy to think about.”

“It looks like they might have proved me wrong.”

“How?”

“The guy who did it? He’s the one I thought was probably rehabilitated. He also saved me when I got jumped so-”

“You got jumped?”

“Shit, Lieu didn’t tell you?”

“No. Dom, are you okay?”

“A vic’s dad saw me at the precinct. I was new in the place so he thought I was the perp and he and his friends brought bats.” He shifted around, and she could see deep purple bruise across his back. “Richie, one of the guys, saved me.”

“Sweetheart,” she whispered, fingers gently brushing over the swelling. “Did you see a doc?”

“It’s just a bruise. Feeling better every day.”

“Liv said you gotta go back in?”

“No. But, I need to hear everything. See this through.”

“I know. Liv said she approved for you to take a few days off when it’s over.”

“She told me. Somebody meddled.”

“Love you,” she sang softly. “You need to take time to recover.”

“I was planning to ask, and I appreciate that you did meddle when you watched Noah. I love you. So much.”

“I’ll get you some clothes while you shave and stuff.”

“Thank you, Tor.” She left him to get ready, laying out a suit and tie and everything else. He came in not long after, and she took advantage of the opportunity to watch him get dressed. Things had been good again for almost a year, and she needed to talk to him, but knew this wasn’t the time. In the worst case of timing, she’d started to feel sick while he was okay. It wasn’t too bad at first, easily written off as PMS, but she’d realized she was late the night before, something that made her wish it had taken him just one more day to come home. She hadn’t taken a test yet, and it didn’t feel like the right time to talk about it. She knew he’d be ecstatic if she were, but they’d decided to drop the subject until summer. The possibility still scared her because all she could consider was that he'd get distant when the first hard case came.

Sonny would get home that night, and they’d have the weekend. The trial would start on Monday, and Dominick planned to go. They had the next two days, and then he’d take two after the trial. There was a box of tests tucked at the bottom of her underwear drawer, and a lazy Saturday felt like the right time to find out. He fell into the bed when he got home,taking just enough time to tell her the attorney was the real perp and the guy who had saved him wasn’t before falling asleep quickly. Since he was home so late, it was easy enough for her to wake up before him, running the shower as she watched the clock.

“How about I join-” she could hear Sonny before she turned and saw him, eyes wide. He took in Victoria settled on a toilet seat with a small white stick clutched in her hands. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah,” she said, cheeks red as her eyes welled up. “Don’t be mad.”

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, kneeling in front of her. “I’m not mad. Did you not want me with you?”

“Yeah. I’m scared, Dom.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to process it. What we talked about at Christmas. The fact it’s not June yet, so I shouldn’t be pregnant.”

“We’ll stay in therapy. Unfortunately a verbal agreement doesn’t prevent pregnancy,” a soft smile as he teased her. “But I’ll be here. I swear to you, doll. I know the doin’ is the only thing that can make that real.”

“I was definitely going to tell you if I am. I got a little box to put it in.”

“That’s all that matters to me, okay? We’re two separate people. You’re the one who may be carrying our baby. If you needed to process that first, it’s fair. I really hope you are, though.”

“I think what scares me is that I kind of do too. We always talked about it. But this isn’t when we planned, y’know?”

“I know, doll. But I think the last few years tell us everything ain’t going to go to plan. But we can get through anything,” Sonny whispered, kissing her temple. She looked to her phone, letting out a breath. “Want me to check it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, head on his chest. He reached forward, holding it up.

“How many lines is a baby?”

“Two.” She knew the answer as soon as she heard him sniff and felt his arms tighten around her. Victoria could feel the smile on his face, and she clung to him.

“We made a baby, tesoro.”

“Lemme see,” she murmured, eyes teary. Reverently, she held it, wrapping around his middle.

“Wait, so around six weeks is when my sisters all realized. Tor, are we having a Valentine’s baby?”

“I guess,” she whispered. “They’ll give us the conception window, won’t they?”

“Oh my god, we’ll get to see them soon,” he beamed, dropping his hands to her belly. His wide eyed reverence made her feel butterflies in her stomach, butterflies that started to overshadow the nerves.

“We will. I’ll call a doctor Monday. Maybe they can squeeze me in your off days. Then we can see them before you tell anyone. I know you won’t be able to wait until 12 weeks to tell ma.”

“What made you start realizing?”

“I had all that indigestion. Got fatigued right before you went. Then I’ve been nauseous all the time and peeing a lot. I realized I was late like the night before you got home when I realized how much my boobs hurt. I wanted to know before you got here but then it wrapped up.”

“What are you craving?” he asked, picking her up and gently settling her on the bed. “I’ll get you these ginger candies. Teresa, Bella, and Gina all swear by them for the nausea and indigestion. I couldn’t get Amanda to eat them with Jesse. You’ll need a pregnancy pillow when you get bigger. And not to be gross, but we gotta get chia seeds. Bella learned it helps you not get constipated.”

“Nothing yet. But I love you,” she whispered, pulling him to lay against her side. She wanted to cry, so grateful to see his response. The change she’d imagined was sudden, an immediate withdrawal. Now he was here, after a hard case, not pulling back. Instead, she had a feeling there’d be a basket of ginger candy, bananas, and chia pudding waiting on a pregnancy pillow with a handful of onesies.

“I love you, too,” he grinned before ducking to kiss her unchanged belly. “And I love you, kiddo. Me and your mom can’t wait to meet you.” Victoria’s hand rested in his hair as he laid his head on her side. She was right, and he went to the store after a while, returning hours later with bags. Carefully, he laid everything on the coffee table. He was excited, she could tell, and she wondered if he’d even make it to the appointment before telling his mom.

“So, I know we aren’t tellin’ ma yet, but I did some googling about your boobs to try to figure out what can help. It said the, like, stretchy bras like these so I got a lot. And then these boob ice packs and nipple cream because I didn’t know which part hurts. Prenatals, because duh. Ginger candy since that’s bothering ya now. I got chia seeds for if you get constipated and then Gina ate a banana a day because she got lots of muscle cramps, so I got us more bananas. And then there’s that dip and chips you like flowers in the kitchen.”

Victoria was silent, staring up at him. The doubt that had wormed its way into her head was gone, though she knew it would reappear until experience confirmed she was wrong. But now? She was more secure than she’d ever been. She thought whatever change would be there suddenly, that he’d pull away when he knew and spend too much time in his head. Instead, here was Sonny, just off a case that wasn’t easy for him, putting his focus on the good news. He knew she was afraid, and he was genuinely there for her. She also knew that there was an extent to which this was his way of saying See, doll? I’m not going anywhere. Victoria teared up, and Sonny looked worried, dropping beside her.

“Come here, you absolute sap,” she sniffed. There were the hormones. Really, there was the overwhelming confirmation that he wasn’t going anywhere and they’d get this life together. The sentimentality she often felt when she realized he was just so good and so sweet, even if he thought his job tainted that.

“Ah, you happy crying?”

“Yeah. You’re so perfect, Dom. This is so sweet.”

“You’re carrying our baby, Victoria. This is the least I can do. I’m going to take care of you. I’m so grateful.”

The weekend and trial went by in a blur, but Victoria was able to confirm she was pregnant with bloodwork while he was in court. They were going to an ultrasound that Thursday, and she was glad to know the trial would wrap up in time for Sonny to make it without her needing to reschedule. She was later than she realized once she visited the doctor, and Sonny had excitedly downloaded apps for both of them to track the pregnancy week by week. The first time anyone saw them together, they’d probably guess that she was pregnant, based only on the way he escorted her like she’d break now and instinctively reached for her belly despite the lack of a bump. If it weren’t so endearing, she’d be furious.

“You excited to see them?” he asked, leg bouncing as they sat. “Ain’t a valentine’s baby, but that means we get them two weeks sooner.”

“I can’t wait,” she said, hand going to his knee. “You okay, Dom?”

“I’m so nervous.”

“Me too. But we can see them today.”

“The app says they’re the size of a raspberry. Maybe that’s why you’ve been craving them.”

“We’ll track the weekly comparisons.”

“We’ll tell everybody at dinner tonight. Ma’s gonna flip.”

“And you can tell the squad when you decide. I know you. Four weeks could be unbearable.”

“I just wanna tell everybody. We got a little raspberry.”

“Saturday we get the next fruit.”

“Perfect. I’ll update my chart of what you’ll be craving.” He kept his hand on her back as they went to the ultrasound room, watching the tech like a kid on Christmas. If she didn’t know for a fact that he’d been incredibly supportive of four different women through pregnancy, she’d think he didn’t know how any of this worked. When the nurse started to show them the baby, confirming the heartbeat and measuring to determine if the age was correct, Sonny watched the image with what was officially the goofiest of his grins she’d ever seen.

“Want to hear them?” the tech asked softly. “I think we’ll be able to hear.”

“Please,” Victoria smiled as she held his hand tight. Sonny pressed his lips to the back of her hand as the steady sound filled the room. His eyes were brimmed with happy tears, and she started to cry too when they made eye contact, which made them both let out happy laughs.

“That’s our kid.” The joy in his voice made Victoria wish they’d just gone straight for this a year before.

“It is,” she whispered. Soon enough, they were in their apartment, and Sonny had his cheek pressed to her belly and the print out of the sonogram clutched in his hand.

“I’m gonna tell them a story every night. And if I get caught on a case, I’ll call and tell a really short story.”

“Yeah?” Her hand smoothed through his hair as she watched him. His eyes were closed, and he was desperate to see if he could pick up on the baby’s heartbeat. He knew he was just hearing hers, but maybe if he stayed there long enough…

“Yeah. And I’m gonna be at every sonogram. I can’t wait, Tor.”

“Me either, Dom. I know I’ve been scared, but this week makes me feel better about it. I can’t promise I won’t get panicky sometimes.”

“I know. I’m glad you’re feeling better about it, but I understand if you get freaked. The girls and Rollins? All three of them got really emotional and panicky.”

“I love you. We both do.”

“I love both of you. I’m telling Lieu tomorrow. I want to let her know. And be positive I get to be at the twelve week appointment.”

“That’s fine, Dom. I also know you gotta tell somebody.”

“That too,” he admitted.

The next morning found him giddy as he got to the office. On his way, he’d grabbed zeppoli, setting them out and dropping at his desk with his coffee. He’d only seen Fin so far, but it felt impossible not to run up to him, whip out his phone, and start showing off the ultrasound photo. He kept pulling it up just to be sure it was there and real and ready for him to show Olivia. He wasn’t sure he’d have made as much progress as he had without the squad she led. It had helped him feel more stable as he accepted that there were things he needed to work on to be okay again. Olivia was, to him, unknowingly a big part of why he’d gotten his head out of his ass. He went to her open door the minute he saw her sit down.

“Hey Lieu, can I talk to you?” he asked from the doorway. Liv motioned for him to come in and close the door.

“Everything alright, Carisi?”

“I just got something you need to know, ‘cause I’ll have to disappear for a couple hours every once in a while.”

“Oh? Is everything okay?” she asked, leaning back as she looked up at him.

“Yeah. Tor’s nine weeks along as of this past Saturday, so the reason is about the size of a cherry now.”

“Victoria’s pregnant?” she beamed, and Sonny nodded eagerly, fumbling to pull out the ultrasound picture on his phone.

“We found out a week ago. The ultrasound was Thursday. There’s no bump yet, but she’s got just a little bit bigger and I can’t wait until she pops. It’s kind of crazy, I know, but I’m going to be a dad. I was gonna wait until we did the twelve week ultrasound, but y’know, I gotta leave to do that.”

“And you just wanted to tell somebody.”

“That too,” he said, and Olivia wanted to tease him for how boyish he looked with the grin and nervous glances to his lap. “I’m glad I knew before the bar, or I wouldn’t have been able to focus.”

“You two will be phenomenal parents. Congratulations. Unless something comes up, you’re fine to go for doctor’s appointments. How’s she feeling?”

“Pregnant,” he laughed. “But the bakery’s in a good way. She’s stepping back a little more. And between my sisters and Amanda, I remember what stuff helps so I try to help.”

“I gave Bella Noah’s old clothes or I’d offer them.”

“I appreciate that. We’ll inherit enough from everybody though. Plus, I kinda like shopping for onesies and stuff. They’re really cute. And Target got in some real cute outfits...”

“Are you telling everyone else?”

“Not until twelve weeks. But I couldn’t go without telling you, lieu.”

@cycat4077

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x oc #law and order #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #writing

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avalindin · 7 years ago

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To Hell and Back

Marvel fic

Chapter 9: Great Crescendo

__________

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

__________

His breath grew shallow again as his body did what it could to repair itself. Much time had passed and the fresh waves of pain returned as she promised. He grew used to them and the empty hall that stayed the same long after Imogen and Pluto had gone.

The howling winds of the portal yards away from his face warmed his natural freezing blood. His eyes hurt locking to the portal for so long but in his time of solace, he’d become the one thing he’d been against his whole life.

Sentiment.

Through his madness and as clear as day, Loki could always see Imogen’s face. He closed his eyes and felt the thorns dig deeper into his skin. He forced his breaths steadily, ignoring his mind’s twisted fantasy that the vines covering his body were beginning to loosen.

“Bastard.”

A mighty strike across his face jolted his body. Loki gasped as he pulled against the fatigue of his weakened form. As he turned to his side, he could feel a heaviness in his heart. He clutched his chest and could feel himself drifting.

It felt too much like a dream as she came to his mind. Of course, he would think of her in his last moments alive; seeing himself free. He turned for the portal and crawled slowly for what his strength was worth.

He was jerked to his back, think it to all just been a joke but the terrified look in Pluto’s mortal face.

“They are in danger. You have to help them.”

His green eyes followed the pale hand that reached into his robes and pulled out a small flickered flame dancing just on the tips of his fingers.

“It is weak but strong enough.”

He placed his hand to Loki’s chest and hoped that he wasn’t too late.

“With this the All Immortal Flame, awaken.”

Loki felt a stinging pierce through his whole body. Air filled his lungs and he pulled it all out with a heavy scream as life was pushed through his veins. His blood boiled, giving color to his pale skin. Pluto couldn’t wait as he pulled Loki from his feet and pushed him to the gate. Loki grew stronger in a second as he clutched to Pluto’s robe.

“What is your game?! How do you have the Eternal Flame?”

“The Eternal Flame was born from the All Immortal Flame but it will not keep you alive for long.”

Loki stopped fighting as the shock loosened his grip. Pluto tried to smile.

“You slept through it but now there is no time to sorrow.”

“What’s happened?”

“I can feel Hela.”

“That isn’t possible.”

“Think, you stupid bastard. She has been powerful for longer than you had been alive. She has had time to learn ways to live beyond death.”

Loki could feel his back straighten.

“Where is she?”

“She is on Earth and she is out for blood...”

- - - - -

“Imogen?”

She could feel her eyes blinking to keep the tears back but it would be her face that would give her away.

“Please say something.”

“Ma’am. Your order is ready.”

Imogen cleared her throat and held up her hand. Once she felt the plastic bag on her fingers, she smiled in the direction of the cook and turned for the bells of the door.

“Imogen!”

She made sure she was quicker than Matt. Once she felt his hand on her arm, she stopped. She kept her face forward though.

“Look, I’m sorry. I really am.”

“You’ve said your peace. What do you want me to say?”

“Anything. You’ve been quiet for nearly ten minutes.”

“Fine. Fuck you. Don’t show up on my doorstep or I’ll tear you to fucking shreds.”

She could fell his face get close to hers and she made sure hers was pointed to the ground.

“So you’re just going to leave?”

“You wanted this, so let me go and I’ll see you at the hearing.”

“Just like that?”

She controlled her powers so that when her hand wrapped around his wrist, it started to bruise like she wanted it to.

“Just like that. Now get the fuck off or I’ll scream the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.”

She jerked her hand away and got into the waiting cab.

“What about my food?”

“It’s ours now.”

She slammed the door and pressed her middle finger proudly to the glass.

“I know you can see that, Bitch.”

“Ma’am?”

She pushed down the lock on the door just as Matt reached for the door handle.

“Sorry. 177 Bleecker Street, please.”

The cab pulled off the curb and she was sure that she would make it home before he showed up. He didn’t move as quickly in the day. Imogen put her hand to her stomach and tried to stop the noises it was making.

She kept to herself and clutched her bag of take-out as she listened to Manhattan as it rolled by her cab. Her body was on autopilot as it was most days as she got out and carried herself through the Sanctum’s front doors.

“Evening. You’re ear...”

“Where do you keep the shotgun?”

Stephen stopped as he looked to the forced blank look on Imogen’s face. She followed the echo of her tennis shoes and held up her hand as it smacked against the kitchen door. She felt her way inside and let the door swing freely on its hinges. Stephen caught it and knew to stay on the other side of the island where Imogen banged the plastic containers of food against the counter.

“No Matt tonight?”

Imogen grunted in frustration and stopped messing with the food. She closed her eyes, completely ignoring Stephen so that she could focus and change her vision.

“No Matt indefinitely.”

She opened her eyes as they glowed blight blue, shifting to the same colors she chose to see when she wanted.

“Ah, better. Mine, mine...”

“What happened?”

“He broke up with me. I kinda blanked out but I left before I did any damage to him. I gave him an out months ago with the client/attorney bullshit but I guess I was too much for. Hear that, virgin?!”

“Okay, okay. You’ll be better with some food in you.”

“I’ll eat when I’m done being so pissed.”

“I would make a joke but I don’t need you breaking more things.”

She looked up to Stephen and grinned jokingly.

“Have some, there’s plenty.”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “this isn’t for the both of you?”

“No. Yes but no. Matt choice to break up with me in the restaurant, so dinner’s on him.”

“This is his?”

“Mine. Eat.”

They turned their heads to the end of the cane that tapped on the high kitchen window.

“That was quick.”

“We should get a dog so you can set him loose. I could totally make a great white wolf.”

“No. Just eat and I’ll take care of him.”

“No. You’re gonna invite him and his woman haterness in.”

“That’s not a word.”

“I’m going to sleep the rest of today off. Leave my food out.”

“You’re gonna get sick.”

“I already do. Don’t touch my Nutella either.”

Imogen waited until she was out of the kitchen to weaken her eyes back to their blindness and snapped her cane out in front of her. Stephen separated the food and waited until the tapping of her cane was on the second floor.

He grabbed the food and made his way to the front door. Stephen was sure to not smile so largely as he was met with Matt.

“Doctor Strange.”

“You know I can’t let you in.”

“Is she really not talking to me?”

Something was hurled against the top of the door pane as bits of Imogen’s phone rained on them.

“I’m guessing that is a no but hey if you can find a way in, you can talk to her under my protection.”

“Fuck.”

“Here, Daredevil,” said Stephen as he handed him the leftover bag of food, “You’re lucky I prefer General Tao's chicken”.

“She needs to be at the courthouse on Monday.”

“She’ll be there if it means she doesn’t see you again.”

“And I’m sure there was humor in there somewhere.”

“Why now?”

Stephen crossed his arms and Matt knew what he was asking.

“She has something going for her and I can’t bring her down.”

“Bullshit.”

“Besides, it doesn’t matter. Soon she’ll have something to occupy her time.”

“Wow. You’re pussing out for the obvious reasons, Matt. You would have been fine. She’s has more on her plate and you are the one running scared.”

“Like you would know. At least now, I won’t be in your way.”

“Pray on that for me.”

“Dick.”

Stephen smiled and shut the door in Matt’s face. He opened it again with an even bigger smile.

“Oh, and be sure to bring her things by Tuesday or I will find you and string you up for Snapchat to love. Bye.”

Stephen locked the door and waved his hands in a series of spells and enchantments so that Matt wouldn’t step foot through any of the Sanctum entry ways. Imogen pulled off the last of her clothes and set her AC to full blast. She used a fraction of her powers to kick her bed with ease in front of the machine a single time.

She eased herself to the comfortable bed and pulled up her sleeping shirt so that the stretched skin on her round stomach could cool. She set her alarm clock for an hour and then, she decided she would go back for her food. Stephen would leave her to her privacy and Matt would be well away and back in Hell’s Kitchen where he was needed.

The only thing that really needed her was drawing closer to its due date. Imogen rested her head on her pillow and tried not to think of all the things she still needed to do. There was the empty room across from hers half done and with her last day with her other musician of the city’s symphony, she would be almost on her own to raise her baby with Stephen over her shoulder. Imogen wouldn’t have minded though. With her baby safely born, she would be able to use her powers again to help her.

For now, she let a few tears drop for Matt leaving her but she was used to it.

Mother, brother, Loki.

Her chest ached for a moment as she thought of Loki for the first time in a long while. Matt did care for her as well as Stephen but she always kept her mind to the baby. She rolled to her side and propped herself on her pillow. Her hand slowly rubbed her belly in circles to give her baby the attention it loved.

“Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine.”

A rumble shook the edge of her skin. It was the same vibrations of the amplified power of her brother’s voice. She could tell my the way the hairs on the end of her arms stood up.

The front of her head throbbed as morphed panicked voices filled her ears. There was a quick moment when color and shifting lights blinded her enough to hurt. She slid as her body was skid to a stop.

“Yes, they’re finally awake!”

“Im.”

She couldn’t help what was to happen next.

“Oh! Oh, tip the chair! Do it now!”

Imogen could feel herself go forward and all she had to do was open her mouth. She clenched her fists and her stiffened out her legs as she vomited to the floor, hanging like a rag doll from the shackles of the armrests. She was set back down once she was done coughing the remaining crud from her cheeks.

“August?”

“Hi there.”

The main strange looking man from the ship was the first thing she saw and it was already growing uncomfortable for him being so close to her face.

“Where’s my brother?”

“Right there. Waiting for his mussel.”

Imogen turned to the other side of the chair and gasped seeing her brother seizing as the veins in arms turned blue.

“Stop it! Make it stop!”

“Sweetie. He blasted a hole through my view with a single harmless breath.”

She ignored the giant hole to expose the breathtaking view in front of them as Imogen pulled at her bonds to help August.

“Son of a bitch, let me go!”

“Her too. Just for a minute. Are the cages ready yet?”

Imogen could barely scream as her whole body was stunned with electricity. She didn’t flail as much as August but she was no longer in control of her bonded, shaking limbs or her bladder.

“My goodness,” whined the strange man, “We’re going to need a cleaning crew. Go see how wants work off some debt.”

Imogen curled her fingers to her chair and forced her blood to slow. She was trapped in her shackles and could feel invisible walls closing around her the same way the glass contains tried to hold her when she became Inhuman.

Only a few looked to her as she shrunk herself into a blue minuscule field mouse. She sighed as the metal disk which spikes were dug deep into her skin was now tilting away, making a single ding on the hard seat cushion.

“What happened? Where did she go?”

Imogen used every once of anger in her to expand herself into a giant blue squid. She reached in every painful direction to grab and hurl anything with a weapon in their hands. The floor was covered with moaning and knocked out guards as she changed into something with opposable thumbs.

She wrapped her large fingers around August’s chair and ripped the shackles away but couldn’t stop him from seizing.

“Oi, monster!”

Imogen could feel something wrap painfully around her neck and jerk her back. She crashed into the nearest metal wall, denting it high near the ceiling. Imogen unwillingly changed back and could feel her body turning out of the hole in the wall.

Her eyes slowly followed the rushing chaos of armed guards pulling a weak August back into his seat. The strange man come out of his hiding place, looking around to the vast space and the destruction she had caused. Imogen was unable to stop herself as she rolled down the last bit of curled metal.

“Come to Daddy.”

“Get her secured before she does that again.”

Her body dropped down into the waiting arms of a pale man plastered in shining black armor. The wind was knocked from her as her vision faded to black, hopefully restoring her blindness but her other weakened senses dulled, letting her pass out from the pain.

The blurs.

Imogen was growing to be annoyed with them in each special way. With years of being blind and the stone in the back of her neck to mess with her parts, she had to be ready for whatever was going to happen to her and to August. She dreamt of him in the days before they turned. He was alone by choice and always stayed by her side. His hand was normally at her arm to hold her but it slowly crept down her arm.

She frowned. Something was wrong. He turned his head and his smile twisted into one that wasn’t his.

“She looks so weak. Can’t believe she wrecked the Grandmaster’s looking room. She’s gonna get thrown into the ring for sure.”

“Ring needs a new champion.”

“I am the new champion since that green rock fled with the others. She’ll be useful elsewhere.”

She forced her eyes open and saw one of two towering men to sniff at her skin. She waited until the first one looked back to his friend. Once distracted, Imogen reached for the knife on his belt and slit the inside of his arm. He cried out and she used the opportunity to roll away and crash to the floor. The second man slammed a button on the wall behind him and filled the small room with red blaring lights.

“Alright enough.”

Imogen moved from the sudden shift of the walls as the strange man appeared with a smile to his face.

“Hi. Me again.”

Imogen leaped clear over to the other side of the room and wrapped her arm around the second man’s neck with her knife pointed to his chest.

“Oh! She’s quicker. What did you do?”

“Nothing she just woke up and killed Yollen.”

“The little tired lady killed Yollen, then raced the same speed as him and is a mirror image of him with the knife to your chest. Is this a pattern?”

“Please, sir. Just get her off.”

“I want my brother. Alive. Now!”

“Okay, but first you just do something small for me.”

Imogen didn’t understand why her grip on the knife was so secure or how she knew where to stab the man but she would try her best to negotiate.

“Fine.”

“Kill him for me.”

“Sir!”

“Don’t worry. I know you and Yollen were poisoning the other contenders to move up. Go ahead.”

Imogen was frozen as her arms moved a fraction out of place. The man struck her in her side and pushed her off. Before he could reach for a weapon, her unnaturally steady hand slit a perfect line across his throat.

The strange man clapped his hands, not looking if Imogen had turned with intent to kill him next. He snapped his fingers and a guard by his side flung a small blade towards her face. Imogen held her hand up to shield her face. The tip of the blade touched her hand, reducing the metal to dust. Sand rained down her forearm as the strange man waved his hand.

“Bring them,” he whispered.

“What the hell,” she whispered to herself as she saw the orange hue hum through her hands.

“You know, I was going to execute you for all that chaos and then I was going to make it worse when I landed in your mess. My robes as delicate and take time to mend.”

“I did what you wanted. Give me my brother.”

“No,” he hummed as he backed out of the room, “Change of plans. You stay here and I feed you.”

“What?! That wasn’t the deal. Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I, sweetie, am the Grandmaster and you are about to show me your true worth.”

Once he was far enough from the outside of the door, several creatures flooded the doorway and turned for her. Imogen gripped the knife in her hands and felt herself run forward. She didn’t remember much but the blood, so much blood that wasn’t hers.

Back and forth, her arm moved steadily and her hand stayed strong. She wasn’t one for Beethoven but her years of practice made the Symphony No. 5 flow easier through her strings. The fingertips on her left hand were going to callus but not enough to blister or tear. It was going to be a long while before she was going to return and the consistency of the minuscule sting was comforting and going to remind her of what she was sacrificing.

The night and the previous day had dragged on. She only thought of Matt once. Instead, she focused her energy on wallpaper for the baby’s room and starting on the damn crib.

Damn baby needs the damn crib, she forced herself for hours.

In the final crescendo, she played her violin and felt every note deep in her veins. The build of music, she felt for August whom was no longer occupying a seat in the front row but Stephen promised to be there. It was important to her but she understand if he wouldn’t be there.

Each instrument in the orchestra played their last notes, leaving Imogen to pull her bow across the strings she would miss, echoing the full house ahead of them.

As the music stopped, applause filled the auditorium, thundering painfully in her ears. Imogen smiled as she was helped to her feet and smiled to the empty vision of the hundreds of patrons standing in waves at the end of the show. She bowed slowly because of her stomach and waited for the draw of the curtain to close.

She listened to the creaking wheels overhead and waited until someone helped her to violin case. She waited and said goodbye to the many people she enjoyed playing with for years, accepting her back to the symphony and playing to the endless crowd. The rush of her profession filled her with thrills. One day, she would be back but as her pulse slowed, she was ready for once to start the next part of her life.

She held her arms near her stomach so no one would grab her. One hand at her arm made her smile.

“You came!”

“I’m not gonna ask if you cheated.”

She hugged Stephen and laughed as she felt the tux he had stored for a special occasion.

“What, no robes? Wow, you smell good.”

“Please. I had a life before I became a mystic. These are for you.”

He stopped her hands as she reached for the soft paper wrappings of the small bouquet of flowers. She smelled them and could barely hide her smile.

“Thank you, Stephen.”

“Alright, softness. Let’s get you home.”

“Come on,” she whined as she took Stephen’s arm, “I’m wearing a custom straw Cinderella dress and I’m not going to look as good in this thing than I will later. Come on, look at me, man! We gotta take this thing out for what it’s worth.”

Stephen smiled at the spell he’d found to make sure her last performance was unforgettable. He’d taken pictures of her to look at later. He was careful to not step on the hem of her crimson gown that settled on her shoulders and let out wonderfully at her sides. She wanted to wear a simple pair of earrings and her hair up in its normal twisted heap. He liked Imogen and with the playful pout on her lip

“It’s almost 11 and there’s no way I'm letting you get soy sauce on your favorite toy.”

“How about syrup? Ihop! Come on, C.O.! Please?”

It was getting harder to say no to her, especially with the beautiful smile to her face. He eased on his rules, just for tonight.

“Fine. Pit stop at home then disgusting pancake delight for you.”

Stephen was stopped as Imogen wrapped her arms around him. She a bit quick for her size. She only hugged him.

“Thank you,” she grinned.

“Okay, people are looking.”

“You’re right. Those pancakes can’t be waiting all night.”

She let him go and held her flowers up to her nose. Irises. August grew many flowers but his Irises would never take to the soil. She inhaled them and wished he was somehow there again.

She turned her nose into the familiar smell but didn’t want to wake up.

“Immie?”

She remembered his voice, the Grandmaster. Though she could hear him, she couldn’t see him as she lifted her heavy eyelids and was set down in a reclined chair. Needles were stuck into her arms to stop the fatigue from weighing her down.

Imogen’s new eyes did a double take as a gray robe was forced to sit down next to her. His arms weren’t bound like hers were.

“August?”

He smiled with his eyes because his mouth was covered by a metal band that wrapped around his mouth to the back of his head. She almost didn’t see the white lines of paint cascaded down his pale, clean face.

“Don’t mind him, sweetie. He’s just learning his place.”

Imogen turned up to the Grandmaster as he waved away a pilot at the front of ship. Both her and August’s chairs moved at the snap of his fingers. She was in no position to move herself or even a finger to touch August. They kept their eyes to the front pane of shield glass to the planet beneath them. Imogen hadn’t remembered seeing so many beautiful dirty colors in her life. Soon, her amazement withered and they were left to the chattering Grandmaster.

“But you have to remember this one engages hyperspace but it doesn’t kick in unless the outer tiles of the ship of compressed by the pressure.”

“Why are you showing us all of this?”

“Oh, she can speak again.”

Her throat felt sore from all of the screaming from the past day as she slaughtered anything that tried to kill her.

“Why?”

“Because there, little creature… I like that,” he chuckled to himself, “I’m letting you both know that there is indeed many ways off the planet. I’m giving you the choice to escape or stay.”

“You’re going to kill us if we escape.”

“So smart, I love it! Think of it like this. I’m giving you the keys. Know that I have eyes everywhere and I will not hesitate to kill you if either of you goes missing.”

“Fuck...”

He patted the dried blood on her knee, giving her some comfort to the unwilling situation.

He took the ships wheel again and turned it back for the tallest building in the sea of colors.

“You both are going to love it here, I promise. Now we have much work to do. You two are going to make me rich...”

She and August were let go, their shackles undone and August’s collar taken away. They were made to follow the Grand master as he pointed out the uninteresting trivial bits of his homing space. With each snap of his fingers, more people employed under him were given instructions and tasks involving the both of them.

“August, your quarters will be down here in the study. It was meant for somebody else but now it’s just collecting dust. Lots of books and numbers for you. You start in the morning.”

He was pushed lightly inside the vast library and trapped with a finger snap. August stopped himself as red beams connected with one another and stopped him from running to his sister.

“Immie!”

“Stay there, August.”

“Oh, how sweet.”

“Shut up.”

“You don’t have a… thing with him...”

Her face twisted in disgust as the Grandmaster smiled.

“No, you sick fuck.”

“I’m sorry, mutt, but I was just asking to make you feel comfortable. Twins, you know.”

“No, I don’t. Do we look like we have ‘Lannister’ tattooed on our forehead?”

“What? Nevermind. Moving on.”

Imogen was pulled along from her feet as August cried out her name. Imogen turned to the dark covered hand belonging to the lone guard that had caught her before. He looked down to her once and winked.

“Roysce, if you please,” waved the Grandmaster.

“It will, sir.”

“See you soon, kids!”

Imogen look over her shoulder to a waving Grandmaster as she was pulled down a long hallway to the sound of running water and turning gears.

Imogen gasped as a pain in her side woke her. Sweat drenched her skin as she tried moving to her back. She groaned feeling her skin tightened. She moved a single fraction and was blinded by the lights overhead.

Her eyes ventured down to her arms covered in leather. Her torso and legs were the same. Something else caught her eye. At first, she thought it was someone else in the room with her but the more she moved, so did the person that was in front of her.

“What?”

Imogen stopped as close as she could in front of the mirror and touched her face. Bold lines were draw on her cheek. Her long hair was twisted back into a beautiful braid that circled her head. Her fingers touched the small ball of metal in her bottom lip that was repierced.

“Look at you!”

She smiled and ran into her brother’s open arms. She could feel herself tremble, relieved that August was unharmed.

“Are you okay? I swear I’ll fucking kill them!”

“I’m okay. Honest, Immie.”

Over her shoulder, she saw the towering shelves of books and scrolls of his room.

“Creature! You’re up!”

Everything happened so fast. She was snatched away from August as he forced himself to stay put so that the disk on his neck. Imogen dug her thick boots into the bold blood colored tiles. A lit screen was pushed into her face but she kept fighting.

“Weapon! Pick one!”

“How about your spine?”

Imogen picked up her foot and kicked the tablet from his hands. There was a strange tingle in her arms that wasn’t from her Inhuman side that reached for the Warden’s neck but a quick shock immobilized her, wrapping her in endless chains.

“Oh, well,” he sighed, “Heard what you can do. I gots not’in for you to takes anyway.”

Imogen groaned, feeling herself dragged through the bright colored halls and into a rusty old shaking dock ship. The rock of the ship made the chains dig into her skin.

“Main arena, we got the Creature. Ready to drop.”

The doors under her swung down towards the blinding lights. Imogen dropped. Her body spun wildly as it rolled down the chains. She kicked and screamed pulling the last bit of metal chains free from her arms as she realized in the last few seconds how fast she was free falling. She covered her face with her arms and crashed hard to the padded sand.

The wind was knocked from her lungs and her whole body covered in cuts from the impact to the sand. Imogen whimpered and looked to the colored grains push from her bloody healing skin. Trumpets and loud synths flooded her ears as cheers circled around her. The filling buzz under her skin all led back to the stone on the back of her neck.

“Welcome back, Sakaar!”

There were many cheers but her ears could find a few unhappy souls. Imogen pushed herself to her feet. They turned her around to the arena she’d been dropped into.

“Quite the journey to rebuild since the revolution but I’m glad to say that now we are back! I know we’ve had some great contenders but I think with the restart that I should give something special for tonight.”

“Figures,” huffed Imogen as she looked up to the towering glittering hologram of the Grandmaster above her, “Fucking Diva...”

“Now for the first fight. Here center stage is a new fighter to show us a thing or two. I give you, Creature!”

“That’s not my name!”

She screamed out all of her frustrations only to be drowned out by the applause. There was a rumble under her feet. She jumped at the slight screech of the large metal gates behind her. Imogen was scared enough to back away from three towering beings, all different in almost every way. The only thing that was similar among them was the strong grip of the weapons in their hands and the growing charge of their sprints in her direction.

She stopped in place. She felt like she could on longer move. She didn’t feel anymore fear. It was blood and fury and her heavy boots digging deep in the sand of the arena to send her forward with her fist in the air.

Imogen closed her eyes for a moment and roared with all of her might. When she opened them, they felt the least tired and hurt of all her body parts. The Norns stone pumped some relief through her veins but she didn’t have the strength to care. Imogen’s ears hurt with the waves of clapping and cheers. They loved the blood drenched across the diameter of the arena and the torn body parts that weren’t hers.

She looked up to the floating Grandmaster’s head, looking down on her.

“Ladies and Gentleman, we have a new Champion!”

Her knee buckled under her and made her crash to the bloody sand. From her limbs to her pounding heart, she could feel the sensation that came with the glowing orange hue on her dirty skin. She could only imagine what strange shit powers she was going to absorb.

She would care once she woke from the darkness that was quickly overcoming her.

Tagged: @808-anon @angelus80 @angryschnauzer @antyc67 @atinyfangirl @audasia25 @cerys1212 @damageditem @eve1978 @hallotom @inkededucatednnerdy @itsjustelen @jennphoenix @justahopeless-dreamer @kimanne723 @lokilockedcougar @lovehiddles4everme @marvelousmissfit @mazda098 @missdibley @mrshiddelston @mypreciousmind1 @nicole-stewart-loves-cookies @osb1anon @ourladybinxthings @peskipixi @prplprincez @quoting-shakespeare-to-ducks @ririsutty @roamingbadger @sarabeth72 @servent-alearika @sevanya @shamvictoria11 @starrynight35 @siyoteodiara @startingtoenjoylife @the-lady-mischief @tinaferraldo @tomkurbikston @vdcster @wolfsmom1

#marvel #loki #doctor strange #matt murdock #feels #angst #fanfic

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grantphillipsblr · 4 years ago

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sociologyquotes · 7 years ago

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90 companies are to blame for most climate change

from the article Just 90 companies are to blame for most climate change, this 'carbon accountant' says by Douglas Starr

“Last month, geographer Richard Heede received a subpoena from Representative Lamar Smith (R-TX), chairman of the House of Representatives Committee on Science, Space, and Technology. Smith, a climate change doubter, became concerned when the attorneys general of several states launched investigations into whether ExxonMobil had committed fraud by sowing doubts about climate change even as its own scientists knew it was taking place. The congressman suspected a conspiracy between the attorneys general and environmental advocates, and he wanted to see all the communications among them. Predictably, his targets included advocacy organizations such as Greenpeace, 350.org, and the Union of Concerned Scientists. They also included Heede, who works on his own aboard a rented houseboat on San Francisco Bay in California.

Heede is less well known than his fellow recipients, but his work is no less threatening to the fossil fuel industry. Heede (pronounced "Heedie") has compiled a massive database quantifying who has been responsible for taking carbon out of the ground and putting it into the atmosphere. Working alone, with uncertain funding, he spent years piecing together the annual production of every major fossil fuel company since the Industrial Revolution and converting it to carbon emissions.

Heede's research shows that nearly two-thirds of anthropogenic carbon emissions originated in just 90 companies and government-run industries. Among them, the top eight companies -- ranked according to annual and cumulative emissions below -- account for 20 percent of world carbon emissions from fossil fuels and cement production since the Industrial Revolution.

[Visit article page to view interactive graphic charting years of annual emissions]

[...] The results showed that nearly two-thirds of the major industrial greenhouse gas emissions (from fossil fuel use, methane leaks, and cement manufacture) originated in just 90 companies around the world, which either emitted the carbon themselves or supplied carbon ultimately released by consumers and industry. As Heede told The Guardian newspaper, you could take all the decision-makers and CEOs of these companies and fit them on a couple Greyhound buses.

The study provoked controversy when it was published in 2013, with some complaining that it unfairly held the fossil fuel industry responsible for the lifestyle choices made by billions of consumers. "It's a cop-out to blame the producers of products that we have demanded, and benefited from, for more than a century," wrote Severin Borenstein, a business and public policy expert at the University of California (UC), Berkeley, in a blog post.

Others, however, saw the study as a turning point in the debate about apportioning responsibility for climate change. With traditional environmental issues, such as river pollution or toxic waste, it has always been possible to identify perpetrators who could be targeted for regulation or enforcement. But greenhouse gases are emitted everywhere, in every process that involves combustion. "For decades there's been a persistent myth that everyone is responsible, and if everyone is responsible then no one is responsible," says Carroll Muffett, president and CEO of the Center for International Environmental Law in Washington, D.C., who also serves on the board of a nonprofit that Heede co-founded. "Rick's work for the first time identifies a discrete class of defendants."

Heede's carbon accounting is already opening a new chapter in climate change litigation and policy, helping equip plaintiffs who believe they have suffered damages from climate change to claim compensation. "Rick's work really helps connect the dots," says Marco Simons, general counsel of EarthRights International, a Washington, D.C.-based legal group that defends the rights of the poor. "He hasn't sought out the spotlight, but I think his work is tremendously important."

Heede tallies carbon obsessively. When we discussed my plans to fly out from Boston to Sausalito, California, where his houseboat is anchored, he did a quick calculation and told me that my share of the flights would add 716 kilograms of carbon to the atmosphere. "And if you'd driven an average car the trip would be 1.78 tons of CO2 [carbon dioxide]" he added, apparently riffing on his own compulsiveness. During my visit I noticed that when he boiled water to make noodles for lunch he put a frying pan on the pot instead of a lid—to preheat the pan so it would use a tiny bit less fuel to heat up the stir-fry. "It's a practice of mine to figure out how I can minimize energy use."

He was born in Norway into a long line of watchmakers, which may contribute to his own meticulousness. At 15, he and his parents immigrated to the United States. His father was a consulting engineer, but the younger Heede wasn't keen on "fixing problems that should not have been created in the first place"—which, he admits, is exactly what he's doing these days.

Heede has spent most of his life in Colorado, and he has the solid build and weathered face of someone who has spent lots of time in the mountains. He earned undergraduate and master's degrees in geography at the University of Colorado, Boulder, and then joined forces with Amory Lovins, the soft-energy guru who co-founded the Rocky Mountain Institute in Boulder. Ronald Reagan had just been elected president, and his administration moved to gut subsidies for alternative energy sources, claiming that they were not economically competitive. Heede tested that assertion, analyzing the federal budget to find the hidden subsidies to the coal and oil industries, even including the cost of treating workers who developed black lung disease from coal mining.

Contrary to Reagan administration claims, Heede showed that the vast bulk of federal energy subsidies went to conventional energy sources. He wrote a report, testified to Congress, and wrote an opinion piece in The Wall Street Journal. "I don't recall getting any calls as a result," he says. It was an early taste of working in obscurity.

In 2003, he left the Rocky Mountain Institute to form Climate Mitigation Services, a consulting firm specializing in surveying and mitigating greenhouse gas emissions. One of his early clients was Aspen, Colorado, a rich and progressive ski town whose leaders wanted to act decisively to reduce emissions. They hired Heede to do a baseline greenhouse gas inventory with the broadest possible scope—including not only activities within the city, but the cars and airplanes that annually brought in hundreds of thousands of tourists … in short, Heede recalls, "everything that uses energy as a result of Aspen's existence."

The exercise raised fascinating questions, Heede says: "What is a community, and what is a boundary? There's leakage everywhere: airplanes, trucks, cars, visitors. How do you quantify that stuff?"

Heede interviewed airport managers and checked their logs to find out which aircraft served the more than 178,000 annual passengers, calculating fuel consumption and emissions for each flight. Standing at the main bridge into Aspen for hours at a time, he categorized the cars that went by—sedans, SUVs, trucks, vans. Then, he used his records to estimate emissions from the 13,000 vehicles tabulated by an automated counter each day. In the end, he determined that in 2004, Aspen was responsible for more than 840,000 tons of carbon emissions—"roughly equivalent to a large, diesel-powered aircraft carrier running flank speed at all times." This and subsequent reports enabled the city to reduce its emissions despite a growing population and economy.

Aspen was an early test of Heede's ability to gather information and see beyond obvious boundaries—the invisible ripples from every project that affect the infinitely interconnected atmosphere. In the early 2000s, for example, an Australian firm proposed building a liquefied natural gas terminal off the California coast. It seemed a good way to transition to a low-carbon "bridge" fuel. But, Heede says, "They hadn't done any work on life cycle emissions." When he tallied all the direct and indirect emissions—from the gas extraction in Australia to distribution in California—he found that the project would have produced nearly a third more carbon than anticipated. His analysis helped persuade California officials to vote it down.

Later, he tackled targets that produce bigger but more diffuse ripples. Several U.S. cities and environmental groups were suing the Export-Import Bank of the United States and the Overseas Private Investment Corporation, alleging the institutions were financing projects that would damage Earth's climate. The plaintiffs retained Heede to analyze the carbon emissions resulting from the banks' loans and investments around the world, from a gas project in Central Africa to a coal mine in Poland. He found that the projects were directly and indirectly emitting nearly 2 billion metric tons of CO2 per year—almost 8% of the world's emissions. The plaintiffs won: The banks agreed to conduct environmental impact statements, create carbon-sensitive policies, and increase their financing of renewable energy projects.

Meanwhile, a new idea was coalescing in the environmental law community. For years, attorneys had litigated so-called environmental justice cases to redress the fact that poor people disproportionately suffer from pollution. By the early 2000s, it was becoming clear that the poor will also face the heaviest impacts of climate change. But how do you structure a liability case when the entire world takes part in the carbon economy? Can a Pacific Islander whose town has been flooded sue 7 billion people? Searching for more specific culprits, Peter Roderick, head of the Climate Justice Programme for Greenpeace International in London, commissioned Heede to study ExxonMobil and quantify total greenhouse emissions across its history.

He would have to follow a tangled corporate path. Founded as Standard Oil by John D. Rockefeller in 1870, the company became one of the world's largest multinationals until 1911, when the Supreme Court split it into several "baby Standards." Decades later, two of the largest of those firms merged to form ExxonMobil. Heede tracked down production figures in annual reports scattered among university archives on two continents, supplemented by court documents, news reports, and academic and industry papers. Then he converted production volumes to CO2 and methane. He included direct emissions, for instance from the fuels used to run the company's operations, and indirect emissions released by the combustion of its products.

After 15 months of research, Heede concluded that ExxonMobil and its precursors had directly or indirectly emitted 20.3 billion metric tons of CO2 and 199 million metric tons of methane. Friends of the Earth calculated that the quantity represented between 4.7% and 5.3% of humanity's industrial greenhouse gas emissions since 1882.

"I thought, 'This is exactly the kind of thing I had in mind,'" Roderick recalls. "But I knew it was just a small part of the big picture."

Roderick commissioned Heede to look at the entire fossil fuel industry. To make the project manageable, they limited it to companies that produced at least 8 million tons of carbon per year, the so-called "carbon majors." The research took 8 years. Money from the original grant ran out, and after the crash of 2008 Heede's consulting business collapsed. He maxed out his credit card, borrowed against his Colorado house, and scraped by, enlisting graduate students in several countries to photocopy and send him papers, which he checked and double-checked with a watchmaker's precision. He filled shelves with binders of information and spent thousands of hours entering it into spreadsheets, working alone, often until midnight. "I take pleasure in that kind of stuff," Heede says. "I like to pay attention to detail."

Sitting at dual monitors in the captain's cabin of his houseboat, Heede takes me on a tour of his data set, a seemingly endless series of color-coded and cross-indexed spreadsheets. Each sheet lists hundreds of entries, with columns showing the year and total production volumes for products such as crude oil, natural gas, and varieties of coal. Clicking on a company's name opens additional spreadsheets with the company's year-by-year production, plus screenshots of its annual reports for verification. Color-coded flowcharts display the evolution of companies as they separated or merged. The flowcharts from Russia are particularly ornate, as they incorporate the transformation of companies after the fall of the Soviet Union. (Heede got production data for the Soviet companies from Central Intelligence Agency analyses and the International Energy Agency.) Detailed annotations reveal his methods and calculations. The structure of these charts, so layered and interlocking, seems almost medieval in its complexity, and Heede seems monklike in his devotion to compiling it.

The result, peer reviewed and published in Climatic Change, showed that just 90 companies contributed 63% of the greenhouse gases emitted globally between 1751 and 2010. Half of those emissions took place after 1988—the year James Hansen of NASA testified to Congress that there was no longer any doubt that global warming had begun.

The data "just blew me away," says Naomi Oreskes, a science historian at Harvard University and co-author of the book Merchants of Doubt, which compares the fossil fuel industry to the tobacco industry in its efforts to raise doubts about science. "Everyone talks about this as a problem since the Industrial Revolution, but I now think that's incorrect," she says. Heede has shown that the roots of the problem are more recent and easier to trace. In 2011, Oreskes joined Heede in creating the Climate Accountability Institute, a nonprofit devoted to quantifying the contribution of fossil fuel companies to climate change and investigating their alleged attempts to obfuscate the science.

Other people criticize the work as oversimplified and naïve. David Victor, a political scientist and energy policy specialist at UC San Diego and a co-author of the 2015 Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change report, doesn't question Heede's numbers but says his approach is wrongheaded. "It's part of a larger narrative of trying to create villains; to draw lines between producers as responsible for the problem and everyone else as victims. Frankly, we're all the users and therefore we're all guilty. To create a narrative that involves corporate guilt as opposed to problem-solving is not going to solve anything."

Heede concedes that the responsibility is shared. "I as a consumer bear some responsibility for my own car, etcetera. But we're living an illusion if we think we're making choices, because the infrastructure pretty much makes those choices for us." He focused on fossil fuel companies, he says, because unlike industries that produce greenhouse gases as a byproduct (such as the automobile industry, which has adhered to increasingly strict mileage standards), the mission of fossil fuel companies is to pull carbon out of the ground and put it into commerce.

His data, together with an emerging line of research that uses computer models to discern how likely it is that a given storm, flood, or heat wave was related to human-caused emissions, are now driving efforts to allocate responsibility for climate change. Last year, for instance, several nongovernmental organizations in the Philippines filed a petition with that nation's Commission on Human Rights. It asks the "carbon majors" to take remedial actions on behalf of typhoon survivors in the islands, which suffer devastating storms that may have worsened as a result of climate change. "Heede's report is one of the bedrock pieces of science and research that helped form our campaign," says Kristin Casper, litigation counsel for Greenpeace's Global Climate Justice and Liability Project in Toronto, Canada. In late July, the commission sent orders to 47 of the world's largest investor-owned fossil fuel companies, asking them to respond to the human rights charges in the petition. Similar actions and lawsuits are proceeding in several other countries.

Now, Heede is extending his carbon accounting into the future, quantifying the potential carbon release from future fossil fuel exploration. Like the other recipients of Representative Smith's subpoena, he has no intention of complying with what he calls a "campaign to intimidate us and stop scientific research." At the same time, he confesses an admiration for the fossil fuel industry, which has made "fantastic efforts to find resources for the betterment of humanity," often in the harshest environments. They've done such a good job that we haven't paused to reflect on the unintended consequences, he says. "And now we have to cope with the result."

#climate change #global warming #corporations #exxonmobil #greenhouse emissions #fossil fuels

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