#Postal Assistant

[maria-crossover]

Very late but I wish you a Merry Christmas ^0^🙏✨

[postcard-from-the-past]

"The shop assistant"

French vintage postcard, staged and photographed by A. Bergeret

[everydayjobalert]

India Post Recruitment 2023: Golden Opportunity for 1899 Vacancies in Postal Services

Introduction: India Post, with its rich history spanning over 150 years, continues to be a cornerstone in providing mail and parcel services across the nation. The latest development is the India Post Recruitment 2023, offering a significant opportunity for 1899 vacancies across various roles, including Postal Assistants, Sorting Assistants, Multi-Tasking Staff (MTS), Postmen, and Mail Guards.…

[gallusrostromegalus]

What kind of deck would Kenpachi use for duel monsters?

Zaraki is the kind of guy who will hunt down Bakura and (gently (for Zaraki )) shake him until he does whatever the trick was that he heard about was that would turn him into a card so he could fight Exodia on foot, like the gods intended.

As for other people, because it's funny to contemplate:

Ichigo: Bad at card games, collects his deck 100% based on how much he likes the card art, inexplicably manages to make something remarkably functional, even if he nearly times out a dozen times because I'm he's reading the text on every card he draws.

Rukia: Melffys.

Chad: also Melffys

Uryuu: Understands how to run a functional deck with pendulum summoning. Cannot explain it to anyone else.

Mizuiro: Has a deck because he and Mokuba are casual acquaintances and the economics of Kaibacorp fascinate him. Plays much more competently than he thinks he does.

Keigo: plays Digimon.

Orihime: Has actually known and been online friends with Tea Gardner for longer than she's known Ichigo, because the former Los Osaka High Schooler and Now Prima Ballerina is the OTHER S-ranked Fairy Deck Player in Duel Monsters Online.

---

Gotei-13:

Duel Monsters has migrated to Soul Society via Reverse London, but only some members of the Gotei-13 know of the game, let alone play with any competence.

Mayuri likes the card art and has casually attempted to re-create some of those monsters in the flesh because he was bored.

Hitsugaya thinks it's "so lame" but if you ask him why it's lame he has remarkably well-informed opinions about the game design that could only have come from getting WAAAAY too into it at one point.

Gin played duel monsters online briefly until Aizen took an interest, because the concept of matching wits with a total stranger who couldn't see him either intrigued him. Gin taught him the basics, (these are the three scores that matter, the rest is conditions creation, you'll love it-!) and released him into the forums. Tousen enjoyed a nice three-month vacation as Aizen got addicted to online play until he entered an unranked tournament and got wasted in two turns by someone with a bunch of twee little fairies in the first round. Threw an enormous temper tantrum about it and forbade anyone, especially Gin who made it to the semi-finals, from ever mentioning the game again

Byakuya, the universal expert on all things Ambassador Wakame, took an interest in the game because he recognized the Kaibacorp Logo on a card Rukia had. There is very little Wakame Ambassador Merch in soul society because it's actually a Living World IP, and Byakuya had noted that the company that owned all things Wakame Ambassador had been purchased by Kaibacorp. He asks Rukia, who tells him all about Duel Monsters, and that there is an entire Kaibaland Theme Park a few cities over from where she was deployed in the living world.

"...would it be possible to contact this Seto Kaibacorp?" Byakuya frowns into the middle distance.

A week later, Rukia unexpectedly opens a gate into Ichigo's Bedroom at 2AM.

"Not directly but anybody can write to his company and the message might get passed along- like how Rikichi sorts all the mail addresses to you that gets sent to the sixth." Rukia shrugs. "You'd need a return address in the living world for him to write back though."

-

"Gah!" She yelps.

"THIS IS WHY YOU CALL AND WAIT FOR PERMISSION TO COME OVER!" Ichigo, home from undergrad for the week, growls at her.

"Hi Miss Rukia!" Orihime waves from on top of Ichigo, not bothering to get dressed.

"Uh, um- congratulations?" Rukia mumbles, covering her face.

"What happened now?" Ichigo groaned, reaching for his pants.

"My bro- Captain Kuchiki requests your assistance in delivering a message to a human in the living world!" She stammers, thrusting the message in his general direction.

"Rukia I don't think this will go through the postal system..." Orihime mutters taking it from her instead of putting on clothes or moving from her position on top of Ichigo.

"What? I thought we put enough stamps on it-? Gah! Please put on a shirt!" Rukia yelps.

"Rukia you know what boobs are." Orihime mutters, studying the missive. "I'll just put this in a box and mail it to them in the morning, okay?"

"Yeah! Sure! Fine!" Rukia sputters, reopening the gate as fast as she can.

"REMEMBER TO CALL NEXT TIME!" Ichigo hollers after her.

-

The Brothers Kaiba stared at the message.

"I'd say it looks like someone tried to mail me from the Meji Era but I've had enough of time-travelling bourgeoisie for one lifetime." Seto grumbled.

"That's not what you were saying last night!" Atem teased from over the video call.

"I mean, if I'm doing the calculations right, and he really is offering to pay us in bullion, that's like... Ten times what the Wakame Ambassador IP is worth." Mokuba frowned at the figures laid out in neat but archaic handwriting on the medieval-looking scroll that arrived in a box, but covered with postage from six different countries inside.

"...when do you get back again?" Seto glared at Atem through the call.

"Not until June, my impatient lord of dragons." Atem smirked.

"...fuck it, let's meet this guy." Seto decided. "He can't be any weirder than everyone else I know."

-

Lord Byakuya Kuchiki was, in fact, on par with, if not actually over the median level of weirdness in Seto's circle of tolerated people.

He really did look and speak like he'd stepped out of a time machine from the late 1800's and was, indeed, completely up front and honest about purchasing the rights to Wakame Ambassador and any merchandise Kaibacorp had, with a chest full of gold bullion.

Unlike most of Seto's acquaintances-with-benefits, Lord Kuchiki was polite, addressed him with a proper level of respect, perfectly straightforward in his request and even explained that he knew he was over-paying, but he'd been on the wrong side of copyright law before, and at least some of this was overvaluing the property as insurance that someone wouldn't attempt to buy it out from under him.

"...Alright, we have a deal." Seto smirked, leaning back in his chair. "I have to ask though- why Wakame Ambassador, of all things?"

"Why the Blue Eyes White Dragon?" He gestured to the office's distinct decoration with a knowing smile. "There is no shame here- if anything, I admire the boldness with which you live your truth."

Seto squinted at him for a long moment, before slowly cracking a smile. "Alright- you tell me about Wakame Ambassador and I'll tell you about her."

-

"Unbelievable." Mokuba gaped.

"I didn't know it was possible." Muttered Rukia.

The two dark-haired, diminutive siblings of more famous older brothers regarded each other for a moment.

"Does. Does yours not talk either?" Mokuba asked, pointing into the office where Kaiba and Kuchiki had been excitedly discussing something non-stop for the better part of three hours.

"I'm lucky if I can get a dozen words out of him a week." Rukia gawked. "He. He doesn't smile like that either? What the hell??"

"Seto smiles, but it's usually a threat- I. I don't think I've ever seen him this chill before..." Mokuba marveled at the scene before them.

"Do we... Leave them to it?" Rukia muttered.

"We'll never get on any of the rides at this rate." Grumbled Karin, who had heard the words "roller coaster park" and elbowed Ichigo in the stomach to take the job of escorting the Kuchiki siblings to Kaibaland from him. "Yuzu?"

Yuzu, who had been drafted into the expedition because she could actually make sense of the high-speed rail system, closed the book she'd been reading with a sigh and stuck her head in the door.

"Mr. Kuchiki? I'm sorry to interrupt, but we left so early I didn't get to eat breakfast, and it's past lunchtime now..." She said, giving the highly manipulatable shinigami her best Precious Moments Figurine face.

"Huh?" Kaiba blinked, then look down at the clock on his desk. "...How is it one thirty?"

Kuchiki looked at something that might have been a cell phone or a large beetle. Seto had learned to stop asking those questions. "Good heavens, you must be starving! Is there a commissary or..?"

"No way, we've got a food expo going on at the Astrodome. They can have whatever they want, on me." Seto shook his head, getting up and waving for them to follow.

"What the FUCK?" Mokuba whispered.

"Oh wow!" Rukia gasped, eyes sparkling "-do you think there will be carrot cake?"

"-So tell me about this Agents Of Nori filler arc," Seto said with genuine fascination as the two men walked down the hall, leaving bewildered siblings in their wake.

-

Yugi frowned at the latest Duel Monsters expansion with concern for the better part of ten minutes before slowly looking up at Mokuba on the other side of the living room "...I feel like I missed something important."

"What?" Mokuba blinked, looking up from his CapMon spreadsheets. "Oh, yeah. Seto made a friend who got him into this bizarre old cartoon, so now there's a line of cards based on the IP. I think it's a birthday present because the guy got some author to write up a novelisation of the new Blue Eyes canon for his."

Yugi stared blankly at Mokuba.

"Seto."

"Yes."

"...Made a friend?"

"Yyyyyyep."

"...on his own? Organically?"

"Believe it or not, Seto does pay attention to your friendship speeches." Mokuba glared.

"...I'm. I'm glad? I just can't get my head around it. What did he DO?" Yugi glared.

"...It's not so much that Seto did anything so much as Mr. Kuchiki is a very similar type and degree of fucking weirdo Seto is, and due to your good influence, Seto didn't immediately panic about that and... They just kind of..." Mokuba pursed his lips, trying to think of a word, and instead interlaced his fingers. "-meshed. Like gears."

Yugi's stare went from blank befuddlement to Great fear "I cannot overstate how alarming the concept of Two Setos is. We did that once, and the universe almost ended."

"Nah, it's fine.- if anything, he's a good example." Mokuba waved. "Kuchiki has an even bigger and more proactive cadre of friends that follow him around and holler if he misbehaves, so he's a lot more domesticated than Seto is."

Yugi sat on the couch, trying to imagine a less feral Seto, and could feel himself getting a headache.

"Kuchiki also looks and acts like he stepped fresh out of the Heian-era imperial court scene." Mokuba added.

"THERE IT IS!" Yugi sighed with relief.

[u2fangirlie-blog]

Superb Owl Party 2025

Welcome to my Superb Owl party! Greetings owl!

Please enjoy these poorly made posters - with typos and all the skill of a middle school art student.

You are invited to your neighbor's annual Superb Owl party where you will meet the guests of honor who are vying for the title of Superb Owl.

Is that that a football or an owl's egg?

Remember, this is a human party and you should blend in. Do not unalive any guests.

[Yes. I know sign has typos. But it has GLITTER! A bloody stupid vampire made the posters.]

Now it is time to vote for the owl that is the greatest owl of all time!

Let me introduce the five contestants in the 2025 Superb Owl Contest. @herpsandbirds Paxon - I hope you approve!

Angelina - Stygian Owl

Angelina was a classical opera singer with a vocal range of four octaves. She became the lead singer of the metal band Talons of Death. The wildly popular band recorded two gold albums: Prey for Mercy and Night Screechers. Stygian owls have golden yellow eyes which glow red in low light, earning the nickname the devil’s owl. When not on the road with the band, she teaches music in local public schools.

Benjamin - Spot-Bellied Eagle Owl

Benjamin works for the United States Postal Service. He delivered bills and junk mail. Years of dedication, hard work, and attention to detail advanced his career. Now he works in the Dead Letter office deciphering illegible handwriting on envelopes in the Great Lakes district office. He enjoys chess and reading spy thrillers and murder mystery novels.

Bunny - Screech Owl

Bunny was a child star actor in popular nature shows, including Into the Wild with Jack Hanna. She was the runner-up for national bird of the United States, just behind the bald eagle. Today she models for Audubon and Birds and Blossoms. She creates mixed media artwork and builds avant-garde nests that are shown in art galleries around the world.

Jared - Spectacled Owl

Jared is a respected pundit and scholar of political science and philosophy. He is best known for his work on Foucault’s panopticon and state sponsored surveillance to control citizens. He’s an outspoken political activist. He enjoys world travel and eating exotic foods.  Recently, he wrote a dystopian science fiction novel and is waiting for a publisher to pick up the manuscript.

Nigel - Great Gray Owl

Nigel is in his third term as Prime Minister of the Parliament of Owls. His passion for serving owls and other species led to a life-long career in politics. He works for a better world for all animals and plants. His actions center on legislation to protect migration routes, conservation of wilderness habitats, and protection of endangered species. He enjoys touring the national parks and vacations in a cabin at Lake Tahoe.

Who is the superb owl! Please vote! Does anyone know how to create a poll? Please vote in the notes. Thanks!

Note: At the hospital were I work, the social wellbeing committee is having an office decorating contest for the Super Bowl. I work as an admin. assist. in a department currently has two people - myself and my boss. The office has space for 12 cubicles, and I'm the only one working here. The boss is only at the business offices one day a week, otherwise she's over at the main campus. To complicate matters, the office is locked on both sides and very few people ever come in. [Technically, my position is part of the administrative team, over on the main campus, but I never see anyone. Only one admin. assist. works with me remotely.] So how do I: 1) participate in social wellbeing and engage with coworkers, 2) decorate an office that is isolated from the outside world, 3) cleverly mock a sports event, and 4) be my true weird self? I choose the Superb Owl Party!

To make the decorations visible for people in the business center campus, I put the decorations in the hallway. We have a big white board that isn't attached to the wall. I put the posters on the white board and slid it out into the hallway! Then I notified a few people in other offices, "Hey, I decorated for the super bowl. Come over and see." And then I put out a little basket with a pen and sticky notes for people to cast their votes. At the end of the day on Friday, Bunny was the winner.

[saywhat-politics]

By Katherine Hamilton Digital Content Writing Fellow, RepresentUs June 1, 2021

Last election season, you probably saw a lot of social media posts and emails telling you to call your congress members and voice your support for certain issues.

But, does contacting your representatives really work?

The short answer? YES! You might be surprised to know just how much of a difference making a phone call or writing an email can be. Here’s why it works.

What happens when you call your representative?

When you call, your message is logged and relayed to your senator and the staffers in their office crafting policy. Every single call helps your senator know how much of a priority this issue is for their constituents. It’s all about building pressure, and calls are one of the most efficient ways to do so.

Four Reasons Calling Congress Makes a Huge Difference

Congress members care about re-election — and you control their chances. Congress members spend more than half their time in office focusing on re-election. If a politician wants to get re-elected, he or she has to ensure they’re addressing their constituents’ concerns. When you contact your lawmakers to let them know what policies you support, you’re telling them what they can do to win your vote in the next election. This is an extremely effective way of getting your officials to listen to you — and it’s exactly how democracy is supposed to work!

A lot of callers can build a lot of pressure. When a legislator starts hearing the same concerns from a lot of citizens, it puts a lot of pressure on them to vote the way their constituents want. Flooding a lawmaker’s inbox or phone line can completely stall office activity, and really get the attention of your elected official. When you contact your representative, you’re adding your voice to a wave of grassroots pressure.

It’s one of the best ways to voice your opinion in the election off-season. There’s not always an election around the corner, and even when there is, you don’t always get to vote on the issues you really care about. But civic participation can — and should — happen year-round. Contacting your elected officials holds them accountable for representing you, even when it’s not election season.

It literally only takes two minutes! One of the best things about calling your representatives? It’s incredibly quick and easy to do. Most groups that ask you to contact Congress will provide you with easy-to-follow instructions and a simple script to read — although adding personal touches is highly encouraged! Who knew saving democracy could take as much time as brushing your teeth?

All questions and comments regarding public policy issues, legislation, or requests for personal assistance should be directed to the senators from your state. Please be aware that as a matter of professional courtesy, many senators will acknowledge, but not respond to, a message from another senator's constituent.

Options for Contacting Senators

Web contact forms are available on most senators' websites

Postal Addresses

Addresses for each senator can be found on the senator's website or state's web page

The following standard address can be also be used: The Honorable (Name) United States Senate Washington, DC 20510 For correspondence to a Senate committee or to a Senate committee chair: (Name of Committee) United States Senate Washington, DC 20510

Telephone

Phone numbers are available on each state's page or on your senator's website

Senators Suite & Telephone List (PDF)

A U.S. Capitol Switchboard operator can also connect you directly with the Senate office. (202) 224-3121

[doctorassistedzine]

The doctors will see you... again! Leftovers for Doctor Assisted Homicide: A TF2 Medic Zine are now OPEN from December 7th, 2024 at 12pm PST to December 21st, 2024 at 12pm PST!!

For those of you who may have missed the initial preorder period, we now have leftover zines and merch available for purchase! Bundles, B and C grade zines, individual merch items, we have it all! Check out our BigCartel to see what's in stock! ⬇

Store: https://doctorassistedzine.bigcartel.com/

As a disclaimer regarding shipping, the buyer will be responsible for any VAT or customs fees incurred. We will also only be shipping to countries currently accepting shipments from USPS and UPS (click this link to find out if that includes you!). Additionally, orders from Canada will not be sent out until the postal strike has ended, which could take until January or later.

We deeply apologize for any hassle this may cause. However, ALL countries, including those listed, are still eligible to purchase the zine itself DIGITALLY.

Full product descriptions under the cut! ⬇️🩸✨❤

Merch a la Carte 🛍 - $3-7

- 5 inch holographic Medigun sticker: $7 - 2 inch stretch goal Mannbulance sticker: $3 - 4x6 inch Gargoyles and gravel print: $4 - 5x7 inch flying Medic print: $4 - 4x6 inch Running Medic sticker sheet: $7

Low Grade Zines ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ - $6-8

- B grade zines: $8 - C grade zines: $6

Medic Zine Digital Only 📱 - $4

- Digital PDF copy of the zine (20 pages total!!) - PDF sent to email provided at checkout (when preorders are over and first round of packages is sent)

Medic Zine Physical 📖 - $10

- Digital PDF AND physical copy (5.5x8") of the zine (20 pages total!!) - PDF sent to email provided at checkout (when preorders are over and first round of packages is sent)

Medic Zine Full Bundle 🩸💉🕊 - $25

- Digital PDF AND physical copy (5.5x8") of the zine (20 pages total!!) - PDF sent to email provided at checkout (when preorders are over and first round of packages is sent) - 4x6" sticker sheet - 5x5" die-cut sticker - 5x7" print - 4x6" print

[reiding-writing]

Are u willing to do a fic about an unsub!reader with early seasons Spencer? Like, the BAU has to team up with the unsub to catch another criminal with a similar M.O. to them and hijinks ensue (could be angsty hijinks or could be general scooby doo type situations) Idk!! I really like ur works and I've been thinking about this thing for days but my ass sucks at writing lol ;;

copycat—s.reid [1]

Summary:

The replication of a disturbing 2004 serial murder case calls for the BAU to get involved with the assistance of none other than the original killer themself. And whilst Spencer didn’t work the original case, he was eager to learn every detail about it, including its offender.

WARNINGS: made up murder case, graphic depictions of violence, implied suicide (actually murder), mentions of spencer’s addiction, sociopathic reader

s3!spencer/gn!unsub!reader || mystery || 4.5k || masterlist!!

part one !! , part two !!

unsub!reader masterlist!!

a/n: sorry to the person who requested this because tumblr deleted the actual ask but i did have it copied so at least it wasn’t completely lost 😭😭😭

left it here because people tend not to want to read really long fics. if people want a part two i will gladly oblige but otherwise its a decent stand alone to see how spencer would interact with an unsub like this

“James Harden, 23, was found two days ago on the bench of a public park in Los Flores, Orange County,”

The BAU team, barr Hotch, all settled in their seats as JJ arrived in the room.

JJ pressed a button on the small remote in her hand, two photos, one of each wrist of the victim, appearing on the screen behind her. “Both wrists had been slit, and the cause of death was concluded to be blood loss,”

“So, why are we being called in exactly?” Morgan raised an eyebrow, taking a sip from his coffee. The team was *tired*. They’d only gotten off a case three days before, and they were all in need of a break.

“Well, if you’d allow me to finish,” JJ shoots Morgan a pointed look to which he promptly raised his hands in surrender.

JJ presses the remote again, images of the victim’s wrists being replaced with images of his face.

There was a mix of reactions from the group, all of which perturbed, but some with more intent than others.

His head was laid limp over the back of the bench, his face pale and his lips white from the lack of blood flow to his head. Nothing they hadn’t seen before.

His eyes however, were a different story, covered up by a pair of red roses that had seemingly had their stems forcibly pierced into the victims eyeballs, leaving a trail of oxidised blood down his cheeks.

Morgan and Garcia shared a concerned glance that they simultaneously turned towards JJ, who matched their expression with her own.

“They didn’t-”

JJ shakes her head at the beginning of Morgan’s question, and Emily and Spencer share a confused glance that they turn towards their three teammates who seem to be locked in a silent conversation that only they understood.

“I feel like i’m back in high school again,” Rossi pipes up at the three from his seat, inadvertently calling them out on their exclusion of Emily, Spencer, and Rossi from their conversation.

JJ sighs as she adverts her eyes towards Rossi, her shoulders sagging slightly. “We worked a case in 2004…” She hesitates to elaborate any further about the details, and Spencer takes the opportunity to voice is own curiosity.

“You didn’t solve it?” He tucks his hair behind his ear, eyes glistening slightly as his eyebrows furrowed in JJ’s direction.

It’d been three years since 2004, and the idea that an UnSub could go postal for that long with an FBI target on their back was- something, to say the least.

“No, we did-” Garcia nods her head determinedly, her eyes lingering on the screen as if she was more focused on the images than the conversation.

“So, a copycat then?” Emily adds her part to the conversation, clearly concerned for her friend’s wellbeing.

“Most likely,” JJ nods her head sharply, looking back at the screen once more. “There’s only been one recorded victim so far, but we want to stop whoever is responsible before anything else happens,”

“Are you alright Garcia?” Emily’s eyes remain fixated on Garcia’s face, her usually upbeat persona dwindling into something more solemn.

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course my love bug, i’m alright,” Garcia shoots Emily a small smile as if to emphasise her point. “It was the first case I ever worked on is all, they just… stick with you ya know?”

Emily nods softly at her explanation. She knew what it felt like to have your first case stick in the back of your mind.

“Alright settle down everyone,” Hotch’s voice echoed through the conference room before he even stepped inside, and the team all diverted their attention towards him.

“I trust they’ve been briefed?” Hotch looks towards JJ, who gives him a nod before stepping aside so that he can take her place at the head of the table.

Hotch walks into the conference room with someone at his side. Someone who makes Morgan’s hand clench into fists and the small hint of optimism that Garcia had managed to keep fizzle from her eyes.

“You can’t be serious.” Morgan’s voice was stern and challenging as his eyes narrowed in Hotch’s direction. “Hotch-“

Hotch halts Morgan’s attempt at a rebuttal with his hand, raised in Morgan’s direction as he knits his eyebrows into a line. “They will be a valuable asset to the investigation.”

“You can’t bring a psychopath in here and expect us to just go along with it-” Morgan’s argument was interrupted by your voice from where you stood behind Hotch, hands clasped together behind your back.

“Sociopath.”

Morgan’s expression furrows further if that’s possible, eyes staring daggers at your face. “Close enough.”

“Actually, Psychopaths and Sociopaths are fundamentally different, with the only real similarity between the two being an extreme lack of human empathy,” Your eyes flicker towards Spencer as he corrects Morgan’s assessment, raising an eyebrow in his direction out of intrigue.

“Either way, you cannot expect me to be okay with working alongside a serial killer.” Morgan’s eyes don’t stray from Hotch’s as he speaks, not backing down from his standing.

“I don’t expect you to be. But that doesn’t change the fact that they will be joining us for this investigation.” Hotch’s tone marks the end of the debate, one that Morgan knew he’d lost before it even started.

Hotch gestures for you to take a seat at one of the empty chairs and you oblige, leaning the side of your left foot on top of your right thigh and relaxing back into the swivel chair as Morgan’s eyes bore holes into the back of your head.

The fact that you were even here was enough to spark the embers of rage in the back of his mind.

The fact that you were walking around freely with no restraints was even worse.

“For those of you who weren’t present, in 2004, the BAU team was called out to Malibu to investigate a series of murders that littered the city.” Hotch’s eyes flicker over to where Emily, Rossi, and Spencer were sitting.

“Eighteen people were killed over the span of ten days, crossing age, gender, and race boundaries typical of a normal M.O, with the only link being two roses in place of the victim’s eyes.”

Hotch’s eyes turn towards the images on the screen, yours following his own as you examine the photos with a small huff. “Are you sure that is person is copying me and that it’s not just a coincidence?”

“Putting roses in peoples’ eyes isn’t something we see in the field every day,” Hotch’s explanation is blunt and straight forward.

“My roses were white.” You tilt your head at him with a raised eyebrow. “That’s a pretty stark difference to just ignore.”

“Maybe he’s trying to make a name for himself,” Spencer throws the idea out into the air at your observation, seemingly undeterred by your criminal history now that his head was submerged in the case.

“Then be original.” You face furrows with a roll of your eyes. “Don’t copy somebody else’s idea, it’s not that hard,”

“That’s enough,” Hotch’s voice cuts through the conversation, his arms crossed over his chest. “We’ll discuss the details on the plane.”

Hotch picks up one of the open files on the table and tucks it under his arm. “Wheels up in thirty, i’ll meet you all there,”

A gesture of his head for you to follow him later, and he’s exiting the conference room with you on his tail.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You walk right past Hotch’s seat as you board the jet, opting to take a seat directly opposite the genius doctor that had managed to capture your attention in the conference room.

He looks up awkwardly as you sit down, not exactly sure what he’s supposed to do. Should he start a conversation with you? Should he continue reading his file and pretend he can’t feel your eyes pouring over his features like you were sizing him up.

He doesn’t have to think for too long.

“What’s your name?” Your tone lacks any social grace, but he supposes he can’t blame you. It’s not like it’s your fault you don’t feel or express your emotions in the same way that the majority does.

“It’s- uh- Spe- Spencer,” His awkwardness really shines through his tone, left hand scratching at his right elbow as a self-soothing strategy.

Two seconds into a conversation and he already wants to dig himself a hole and hide in it for the rest of eternity.

“Spencer Reid- Doctor Spencer Reid,” He purses his lips into a line once he’s settled on his full title, but it doesn’t stop him from blurting out more in his effort to get all of his thoughts out of his head. “Spencer’s fine though…”

“Doctor? Of what?” You skirt past his awkward introduction in your pursuit to know more, and he’s grateful that his completely lack of social skills doesn’t scare you off like it would most people.

“Well- I have PhDs in Mathematics, Engineering, and Chemistry,” Spencer tucks his hair behind his ear, his file falling over the side of his lap into the gap between his leg and the arm of the chair. “But i also have bachelor’s degrees in Sociology and Psychology,”

He shuts himself off after his over-winded explanation with a purse of his lips in your direction.

“I have a bachelor’s degree in Psychology,” Spencer’s eyes practically light up at your words, completely forgetting that you’re a convicted serial killer and instead hyper-fixating on your academic interests.

“Really? Did you do a Bachelor of Arts or Science?” You can almost feel the enthusiasm radiating off of his body as he leans forward in his chair slightly.

“Science,” You tap the side of your head with your finger and Spencer thinks he understands. It’s the same reason he studied psychology himself.

Because he was different.

Because his brain worked in different ways than other people.

He couldn’t even imagine how much more severe it was for somebody like you.

“How do you know so much?” Your tone isn’t chastising. It’s not questioning his knowledge because he’s ’too young’ or ‘doesn’t look like someone who would be an expert’ in niche academic areas. You genuinely just wanted to know.

“Well- I have a 187 IQ and an eidetic memory,” You’re eyes followed his as he explained his intelligence to you, chasing them to ensure the two of you maintained eye contact. “And I have a reading speed of 20,000 words per minute,”

You hum at his answer, seemingly satisfied as you lean back in the jet seat.

The silence between you doesn’t have time to get awkward before Hotch is calling the team’s attention to go over the details of the case thus far.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer spends most of his first night in Los Flores on a laptop.

Garcia almost has an aneurism when he asks her if he could borrow one of hers.

It takes him almost 30 minutes to figure out how to use it, face lit by the harsh white light of the screen and softened slightly by the warm yellow of the lamp on his hotel bed’s side table.

Once he manages to pull up the internet browser he spends the next multiple hours researching. Pouring over every news article and journalist report that he can about the 2004 Malibu case that had you in its centre.

The 2004 ‘Malibu Rose Killer’. One of the most prolific serial killers in California’s history.

Eighteen people dead in just ten days. An extremely rapid escalation that held no victim pattern of any kind.

A spree that only stopped when the police found both of your adoptive parents dead after a welfare check concerning your father not turning up to work. Your two first victims.

You’d told the courts that it was a manic breakdown. A symptom of your previously undiagnosed sociopathy. That you weren’t in your right mind when it happened.

It worked to a degree, swerving you of a death penalty, but the fact that your parents’ crime scene had shown signs of recognition for your actions halted your defence quite a bit.

Instead of slitting their radial artery and leaving them to bleed out, you’d severed their spines from the brain stem whilst they slept.

And instead of piercing their eyeballs with two roses, you’d instead chosen to lay one in between their two bodies instead.

That was enough for the prosecution to say you had at least some knowledge of the severity of your actions, and so instead of being carted off to a psychiatric prison you were left in a regular old high security prison to serve two consecutive life sentences for the murder of your parents with an annual mental assessment.

He assumes that’s why you agreed to be here. To gain a lenience on your sentence.

He didn’t know why he found your story so fascinating, but he knew that he’d only be able to refrain from asking you questions for so long.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Spit it out.” Your words snap Spencer out of his thought-filled dazed, blinking at you as he slowly regains his senses.

“Huh?”

“Spit it out. Whatever you have to say to me.” Your tone, as he’s come to expect over the last few days, is very flat and straight to the point, clearly agitated at his eyes lingering on you for what you’d deemed too long.

You walk around the small table at the Orange County’s Los Flores police station with your arms crossed, confined there for the majority of the case as to not possibly initiate any ‘aggressive urges’ that might spawn from seeing a replica of your past crimes.

Spencer’s left hand absentmindedly scratches at his right elbow at your glare, clearing his throat and averting eye contact with you, both out of embarrassment of his unintentional staring and self-preservation towards your proclivity to get angry without real aggravation. “I- It’s nothing really,”

Your head tilts at him, your eyes telling him enough that your patience was waining and that you would get whatever he was thinking about out of him.

“I uh- did some reading… about your case-” Your expression morphs into an emotion that he can’t quite place at his confession, and he feels an overwhelming pressure to keep explaining himself as well as to just sew his mouth shut so he can’t say anything.

“And?”

“And… um- there was a part about it that didn’t really make sense to me,” He’s thrown himself in the deep end now, any hope of changing the topic of conversation long gone as he watches your eyebrow quirk in curiosity.

“Your parents…” Spencer’s eyes scan your expression intently as he mutters out the words, gauging your reaction to his words before he dares to continue.

“What about them?” You remain indifferent if not mildly compelled by the line of thought running through his head, and he’s internally relieved that he hasn’t pressed any of the wrong buttons in your fragile emotional state.

“Why?” Spencer mirrors the short, straight to the point wording that you seemed to be so fond of, and he can see you blank expression waver slightly at the question, like you weren’t sure how to answer it.

He watches the wrinkle in your brow become more prominent, how your eyes seem to loose focus and flicker around the room, the way you subconsciously shift from one foot to the other.

He’s not entirely surprised by your reaction. Sociopaths were very capable of harbouring emotions like everyone else. Anger, happiness, sadness, love, and even fear. Even if the intensity of them and the way they were expressed was different.

Right now your expression read as confusion mixed with mild apprehension, like you were considering whether or not you wanted to answer his question.

You still didn’t seem angry, which he was grateful for. He might have been a qualified agent, but that was with the exception of him not having to pass a physical examination.

And he really didn’t want to risk having to physically defend himself against someone who managed to kill eighteen people in the span of ten days because he’d accidentally said the wrong thing.

“They didn’t deserve to live with the knowledge of what I was going to do,” You tone is a lot less apathetic as you come to your answer, stopping intravenously to collect your words.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrow at your answer, not quite sure what to make of it.

“My turn,” Your eyes scan Spencer’s facial features, watching how Spencer’s eyebrows raise as you don’t give him time to compute your answer. “Do your higher ups know you’re an addict?”

The question is blunt, clear, and lacks any subtlety whatsoever despite the two of you technically being in a public place, even if you were the only people in the room.

Spencer’s eyes snap towards yours, surprise written all over his face. “You- I- Uh-“ His mouth falls open and closed like a fish as he tries to string a coherent sentence together, blinking at you with wide eyes.

How did you know that?

He falls short of an answer to your question, his eyes questioning you silently.

“Does your team know?”

Spencer shakes his head slowly. “If they do no one’s ever mentioned it..” He doesn’t know why he’s exposing himself to you like this, but theirs something in the look your giving him that tells him that he can’t lie to you.

“What great friends.” Your voice is practically dripping in sarcasm, and Spencer can’t help but subconsciously agree with you.

He’d waited and waited for someone to recognise that something was off with him. That he wasn’t all there.

But instead of it being one of his coworkers, some of which he’d known for years, it was a sociopathic serial killer that he’d known for 37 hours and 16 minutes.

Lucky him.

“They have more important things to worry about,” His hand returns to scratching at his elbow through his shirt, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation.

You raise your eyebrow at him, clearly intrigued by the misfortune riddling his life; Almost as if it was a private viewing of a feature film made solely for your entertainment.

“Stop doing that.”

Spencer raises his eyes towards yours once more at your words, wide and glossy and making him look like a pathetic little puppy who’d been told off for tearing up a couch cushion.

You wonder how deep that patheticness goes.

“Don’t scratch. It’s annoying to watch and it’ll make your withdrawals worse.” You depart from the room before he can give you an answer, shutting the door harshly behind you as you spot Hotch in the main foyer of the station.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“I’m bored.” You swing your legs over the edge of the table you were sat on. You’d spent the last four days confined either to the hotel room you were sharing with Hotch or the small meeting room the OCPD had reserved for the BAU during the case.

You wanted a change of scenery. Desperately. You could only deal with monotony for so long.

At least back in your cell you activities you could engage in.

Instead you were just stuck as a fact checker for the details of each victim.

Five people had died now. Following your victim pattern to a T.

The first a young white man. The second a middle aged white woman. The third a male black college student. The fourth and fifth a young gay couple.

It agitated you. What happened to originality? Get your own random victims.

“You can accompany Morgan and I to the coroner’s office,” Spencer offered you a pursed smile at his suggestion, partly because he knew you’d be able to see more differences between the originals and recreations in person than through photos and partly because he wanted to crack you open.

He wanted to know everything about you. He wanted to know what made you tick. How you rationalised your crimes. How your sociopathy developed.

He was in deep. And his brain wanted answers.

“Absolutely not.” Morgan shot down the idea immediately with a stern shake of his head. “There is no way in hell we are bringing them with us,”

“They might catch something that we won’t be able to,” Spencer’s rationalisation wasn’t exactly wrong. Even in copy cat murders the offender always left a piece of themself behind. Something of their own personality rather than the killer they were trying to replicate.

It could be so tiny that no one would recognise it. Apart from the original offender of course.

“They might catch the bright idea to try and attack somebody.”

“Oh please-“ You roll your eyes at Morgan. “If I was going to have another mental break at seeing a recreation of my past endeavours I would have had it already,”

Morgan narrows your eyes at you calling your murder spree your ‘past endeavours’. You hadn’t published a book or painted some mural. You’d killed eighteen people.

“Reid’s right,”

He doesn’t have time to get angry at you.

“Hotch-“ Morgan looks completely betrayed.

“There’s only so much they can do to help us from here. We want to stop this before anyone else gets hurt.” Hotch’s tone is stern, leaving no room for argument.

“And if they do spiral out of control,” Hotch’s eyes flicker between Morgan and yourself. “I trust you’ll be able to take care of it.”

Morgan mutters something under his breath about ‘stupid hierarchies’ and how much he hated your guts as he left the meeting room with a huff, although more composed than you thought he’d be.

“Are you ready to leave?” Spencer’s question snaps you out of your revelling over Morgan’s distaste for you, although your small smile of satisfaction doesn’t falter as your eyes meet Spencer’s.

“Let’s go Doctor. I’m ready to get out of this beige abomination.”

You push yourself off the table and leave out of the same door that Morgan had, Spencer following closely behind you.

He was oddly grateful about your decency to respect his title, and it only made him want to read you like a book even more.

- part two !!

[todaysdocument]

Statement by Truman Gibson, Jr.

Collection HST-PN: Philleo Nash PapersSeries: White House FilesFile Unit: Minorities-Negro-General-Negro Troops in Italy-Statement by Truman Gibson, Jr., April 1945.

[handwritten] Maj Gen Neg Negro trps in Italy

STATEMENT OF TRUMAN K,. GIBSON, JR.

CIVIALIN AIDE TO THE SECRETARY OF WAR

AT PESS CONFERENCE, MONDAY, APRIL 9,1945,

WASINGTON, D.C.

The press has already reported that Negro and white Infantrymen are now fighting side-by-side in Germany. In France I visited some of the Nero platoons before they left for the front and talked with the men being trained at the Reinforcement Training Center. What I saw and heard was evidence that the Supreme Command in SHAEF was following in racial matters what must be the basic policy of any Army, In any war, namely, that of utilizing most efficiently all available resources of men and matériel to defeat the enemy.

Such a policy is working. At the Training Center a white noncommissioned veteran, who was assisting in the training program, said rapidly, if on grammatically, about the Negro trainees: "Sure they'll get along all right. It don't matter who's firing next to you when you're both killing Krauts." the Texas-born, battle-scarred Commanding Officer of the Center was confident that the trainees, all of whom volunteered for the training course with all noncommissioned officers taking a reduction to the grade of private, would do well in combat. He said, " These men will fight because they have been trained and treated just like the other soldiers here and they know they're going to be used in the same manner, in the same Divisions. They want to fight. When the first group went out we had only two cases of AWOL among all the Negro soldiers in the Center. We found out where the two men were we received the wire from a frontline Division Commander informing us that they had reported the him to fight."

The estimate of this officer has been confirmed by the report of an official observer who spent time with some of the platoons in the fighting around Remagen where the first of the units was committed to combat. He reported that the Negro soldiers fought as well as any others and that the mistakes they made the same as those made by other troops lacking battle experience.

This policy of making the best use of all soldiers is further evidenced in the excellent performance of the Service of Supply troops throughout the theater. These troops, a large percentage of whom are Negros, regard themselves as soldiers performing vital jobs. They had a very real identification with the fighting front. In one Quartermaster Depot, manned by Negro personnel, the first sergeant when questioned as to why the men were working voluntarily around the clock, replied: "We have got to keep the supplies moving in all of us want to do our part." The officers in this unit were white and were enthusiastic about their men and their work. Discussing their men, Negro officers in a Quartermaster Truck Company said that on many occasions their drivers had insisted on delivering white Infantrymen into dangerous territory late at night far in advance of the debarkation points because "they hated to see the 'Doughs' walk."

In the European Theater of Operations are the first units of Negro nurses and Wacs to go overseas. The nurses, stationed at a hospital in the north of England, are busy treating American soldiers have been wounded in action. They are described by their Commanding Officer as being the equals professionally of any nurses in the area. The Wacs officer and man the Central Postal Directory for the entire European Theater of Operations their efficiency has drawn repeated praise from the Commanding Officer of the United Kingdom Base Section. They have adjusted exceptionally well In theshort time they have been overseas to their work in the community in which they are situated.

Generally, on both the Continent and in England, it was apparent that the attitude of the Supreme Command that there should be no discrimination against any soldier on account of his race had reached all elements of the Command. Discriminatory acts and incidents that have occurred were regarded by the soldiers as being individual in nature. As a result of my trip to the Mediterranean and European Leaders I am impressed that such differences as exist between soldiers are not due to racial characteristics but to such factors as training, motivation, and environment. The fact that the Commands in the theaters believe this is encouraging. Certainly the record being made by Negro soldiers gives the lie to any charge that Negros cannot and will not fight.

END

Press Branch

War Department Bureau of Public Relations

April 9, 1945

11:00 AM

[tf2occontest]

The Courier VS Ágatha, the Nurse VS The Intern

(Full matchup list here)

Alright team, here's a recap: This is a contest to determine who amongst you will take the top of the leaderboards and be hired at TFI! Simply put, whoever gets the most votes gets to move on, and whoever doesn't... Well. They'll be put down swiftly and cleanly. :}

So, mann your stations, because here are your next contestants! Vote for your favorite mercenary who you want to win the TF2 OC Contest! - P

OC INFO UNDER THE CUT!

We highly encourage you to take a peek to make your decision!

The Courier

@sicc-nasti

Image credit: @/sicc-nasti

Do you like receiving your mail on time and your packages in pristine condition - untouched by curious hands and peeping eyes? Do you love when your woefully embarrassing love letters filled with poetry from your soul are delivered with the utmost care and secrecy? Does it fill you with glee when your special snacks you ordered overseas finally make its way into your hands and not a SINGLE piece is missing?

If you said yes to any of these questions then WOW do I NOT have the guy for you!!!!

Instead-

TFI presents you something you didn't know was possible OR legal - weaponized postal services!

Meet your 10th Class-

The Courier!

By intercepting and opening someone else's mail, an individual can gain access to confidential information that can be used for identity theft, fraud, or other illegal activities. And we wouldn’t want that, now would we? That's why our solution to this simple problem is bringing the mail to the battlefield! Courier is equipped with MANN CO approved disposable stackable mail crates for your climbing or shielding needs. Just think of how nice it would be to build a tower to do taunts on or have cover from that enemy Heavy's hail of bullets. Sure it's clunky but nothing shreds paper faster than a bullet - that's science tested and math approved by TFI scientists! And monkeys!

Courier is THE MANN for the job.

If that ain't enough to catch your attention, let's take a peek at the men behind the uniform.

RED’s Courier is a Puerto Rican ex-felon hailing from the greatest place on earth! New York City! With an insatiable appetite for all things fraud, deli meats, and violence - what more could you ask from a guy?

BLU's Courier is a Puerto Rican-Italian ex-con plucked from the greatest place on earth! Jersey City! With an insatiable appetite for all things smuggling, deli meats, and violence - what more could you ask from a guy?

Not enough for a vote?

Well, listen, I'm not above bribery. If you vote for them, Courier promises to not read your mail for like a week and INSTEAD- will write you up a totally not fraudulent marriage certificate to any merc you want!! Just think! Finally legally married to Heavy! Or Engie! How’s that sound for incentive, boss?

THROUGH RAIN, SHINE, BULLET HAIL OR SNOW, THEY’RE YOUR COURIER.

VOTE FOR COURIER IN THIS UPCOMING TF2 OC CONTEST

Maybe there’ll be enough in the budget for a third one!

Ágatha, the Nurse

@arts-of-gjb

Image credit: @/arts-of-gjb

Ágatha is a young brazilian girl from Salvador, Bahia (Brazil). She is very friendly and energetic, but also have a deep taste for medical experiments and doesn't mind seing blood for the most of the time, traces that were noticed and encouraged by her uncle, Medic. He started to bring her once she made 10 so he could teach her all he know. Inside the battlefields, Ágatha asumes The Nurse title, The nurse class in unable to capture control points, move payloads, grab inteligences or even cause directly cause damadge to others players, because her only objectives as part of the team are:

To assist, by curing her team. different of Medic, the nurse does not have a medigun to that, so she fulfills this task by being able to grab the medikits (or other healing iten disponible on the ground) and then give them to your teamates

To anoy, by shooting small injections on the rivals. as said before, they wont make any damadge, however, they will "stop" the player for a few secconds (the same way that when you're hit by a christmas glove from heavy, but it should make a pain animation than a laught one, and would work if hit in any body part).

Once her hp reaches 0, the nurse would enter in a "sleeping mode", where you get unable to do anything. If no one does anything with you when youre like this for a couple of seconds, then you wake up with half of your total hp, but if someone from the opposite team pick you up and leave you to a specifc location, then you are teleported to your respaw base, where you get unable to go out for a minute (be grounded time >:I )

A vote for Ágatha is a vote for Red team, Medic, Brasil and nepotism!!!!!!!

The Intern

@queensqueercourt

Image credit: @/queensqueercourt

YOU KNOW THEM! YOU LOVE THEM!! The ever so fashionable intern makes a stance once again! paired with a improv pen shiv, stapler gun and rifle, they're ready to hit the battlefield with something never seen before!

These teens accidentally stumbled on the battlefield during their job orientation, and as a reward for surviving the battle unscathed they got a brand new responsibility: fighting in the field alongside the mercs! Simcha is a fun good-hearted rapscallion from Denver, and Tirzah is rebellious punk from New York City! help them win and who knows! maybe they'll get a paycheck for this!

[fuck-customers]

My work had some recent problems with USPS where they marked a group of shipments "delivered" on accident instead of scanning them in at the location as a checkpoint. Our shipping director has literally been on the phone with USPS nonstop after hours trying to get this fixed for everyone. For the most part this hasn't been an issue. People have been super understanding, thankful that we let them know, and appreciative that we've provided resources to contact USPS for assistance with their package.

Except for one woman.

After giving her the exact same information as everyone else, I was gifted with a paragraph long email about how I'M incorrect and should - I quote - "educate myself in how USPS works" because she "worked for USPS for 30+ years" and "There's no way to contact USPS about a package once it's marked delivered because the tracking number is void."

This is patently untrue. I know this because I've had misdeliveries I've had to contact USPS about. They've been able to locate my package with a supposedly "voided" tracking number that had been marked - you guessed it - delivered.

The contact page I sent her for USPS also has a "Where is my package?" service request page smack dab in the middle of it and SUPER visible where you can request assistance with a tracking number that has, once again, been marked "delivered". The package was also shipped ground and takes 2-5 business days to reach it's destination, and she's demanding to know where her package is 24hrs after it shipped.

Like I get that your frustrated, but maybe contact people who can actually help you? Once it leaves our shipping it's in USPS's hands and we can't really do anything. The package is insured. You can submit a claim. And if you "worked for the postal service for 30 years" you should know we can't help you track your package or issue a second tracking number since the package has already left our facility. You just wanted to yell at a minimum wage worker to feel better about yourself, but got stuck with me instead.

Posted by admin Rodney

[turingtestedblog]

I AM STILL WORKING OUT DETAILS FOR THIS AU.. HONESTLY, I WROTE IT IN THE MIDDLE OF AN EPISODE, SO ITS PRETTY SCATTERED AND JUST BRAINDUMP BULLSHIT WHICH I AM CLEANING UP.

ZOMBIE P1 DRABBLES BELOW. THIS IS ALL I HAVE TO SHARE FOR NOW BUT I AM CONSTANTLY SPECULATING AND WOULD LOVE TO RECEIVE ASKS ON THIS.

ZOMBIE P1 IS A JAUNDICE AND ORAL FIXATION VICTIM </3 HE DOESNT HAVE MUCH CONTROL OVER THE RIGHT HALF OF HIS FACE, LEAVING HIM TO DROOL AND OFTEN SLUR HIS SPEECH. HE DOESN'T HAVE MUCH FEELING THERE BECAUSE OF SCARRING BUT PRIMARILY BECAUSE OF A LORE RELAVENT SUPERNATURAL WOUND I WILL TALK ABOUT EVENTUALLY.

P1 IS SCHIZOAFFECTIVE HERE AND CATATONIC AS A RESULT. HE ALSO HAS PRETTY MODERATE LONG TERM MEMORY LOSS AND MILD SHORT TERM AS A RESULT OF BRAIN DAMAGE. HE HAS INTENSE HOT FLASHES AND EPISODES WITH VISION LOSS.

TECHNICALLY P3 IS ALSO HERE AS HIS BOYFRIEND..IVE NEVER PLAYED POSTAL 3 BUT I LIKE HIS DESIGN AND I THINK THE BADGER THING IS FUNNY. I COME TO FIND OUT POSTAL 3 HAS ZOMBIES ALSO. MAYBE THAT WILL COME INTO PLAY. THEY SHARE AN APARTMENT TOGETHER ON THE BASEMENT LEVEL. THEY GRIND COD TOGETHER ITS SUPER GAY AND AWESOME THEY KISS AND SHIT.

THE STORY FOLLOWS LESS OF LEADING UP TO HIS INFECTION AND MORE FOLLOWING MANAGEMENT/RECOVERY. HE IS AWARE, BUT STILL SICK. HE MOSTLY CARES FOR HIMSELF WHILE P3 WORKS BUT HIS BEHAVIOR IS DISORGANIZED AND TASKS OFTEN GO UNFINISHED OR FORGOTTEN.

HE READS AND WRITES TO FILL HIS TIME, SOMETIMES MESSING AROUND IN COLORING BOOKS. HE HAS A FIXATION WITH FLORAL PATTERNS FINDING THEM TO BE STIMULATING. HE REALLY ENJOYS TEXTILES AND SEWED THEM INTO SQUARES TO FEEL WITH HIS HANDS BEFORE HIS HANDS BECAME TO SLOW/SHAKY TO DO DETAIL WORK WITH. HE ALSO SEWED LITTLE FISH STUFFED WITH SCRAPS (FISH ARE A REPEATING MOTIF IN MY STUFF. POSTAL IS NO EXCEPTION.) DONT WORRY, HE GOT A SEWING MACHINE. I WOULD HATE MYSELF IF I COULDNT GIVE HIM A SEWING MACHINE. HE LIKES TO WORK WITH HIS HANDS, GENERALLY.

THE "INFECTION" HE EXPERIENCED WAS NEAR IMMEDIATE. AFTER FACING A TOTAL HEAD INJURY (GETTING. HIS HEAD BLOWN OFF. AND SLOWLY PIECED BACK TOGETHER BY WHATEVER DRIVING SUPERNATURAL FACTOR.) HIS BODY WAS REVIVED. HE HAS NO PULSE, MEANING HIS BODY IS NOT LIVING ON ITS OWN OR EVEN WITH ASSISTANCE.

THIS JUST MEANS THAT WE DID NOT SEE HIM SLOWLY LOSE HIMSELF, BUT SLOWLY LEARN TO MANAGE THESE NEW ASPECTS OF LIFE.

HANDWRITING DIDNT DEGRADE AS ORIGINALLY INTENDED. HE STARTS TO GET A BETTER GRASP RELEARNING IT AFTER AWHILE.

EDIT: I THINK I FORGOT TO MENTION HE IS MOSTLY NONVERBAL

EDIT 2: DUDE1 HAS AN ISSUE WITH CHEWING ON DUDE3 IN HIS SLEEP

[not-glorfindel-stop-asking]

Do you think Arwen has ever destroyed someone in an argument so thoroughly that they had to leave Rivendell out of sheer embarrassment?

Ah, now this is a story worth telling.

Picture, if you will, dear Anon, a grand gathering in Rivendell’s halls, where lords and dignitaries had assembled for a discussion of great importance (or so they believed). Among them was a certain Lord Faelion—an elf of considerable age, impressive lineage, and an ego so vast it could have its own postal system.

He was the kind of elf who believed wisdom was dictated by years alone, and that any who had not seen at least three Ages of the world should remain silent in the presence of their betters.

Unfortunately for him, Arwen was four years old.

Now, young she may have been, but Arwen had spent her years listening to her father and his advisors, absorbing the art of debate as naturally as she did the Sindarin tongue. She was also, at this tender age, under the impression that she was already an adult—because, as she reasoned, she could read, she could write, and she could (as she often reminded those around her) put on her own shoes without assistance. This made her eminently qualified to participate in any and all discussions.

And so, when Lord Faelion made the grave mistake of dismissing something she said with a condescending "Little one, this is a conversation for those who understand such matters," Arwen straightened her spine and proceeded to annihilate him.

With perfect posture, a deceptively sweet voice, and the cutting precision of someone who had spent a lifetime (or, well, four years) observing her father handle insufferable dignitaries, she launched into what I can only describe as a verbal disembowelment.

She began with a simple, innocent question:

"Lord Faelion, how many books have you read about this?"

He scoffed. "Many, child."

"Oh," she said, tilting her head. "Then why does Ada always say that the wise do not claim to know everything?"

The room fell silent.

Lord Faelion’s lips parted, as if attempting a rebuttal, but Arwen was not finished.

"And," she continued, "if you were really wise, you would know that speaking down to people makes them not want to listen to you, which means you are not a very good teacher, which means you cannot be as wise as you say you are."

She clasped her hands delicately in front of her, blinking up at him with large, guileless eyes. "Ada always says that wise elves help others learn. So maybe you should read a few more books before saying you understand everything."

I watched Lord Faelion’s soul leave his body.

The assembled company exchanged stunned glances, the kind one gives when witnessing something both horrifying and awe-inspiring.

Lord Elrond, always the composed ruler, pressed his fingers together in deep contemplation and very diplomatically told Arwen that it was not polite to dismantle others in front of an audience.

Then, later that evening, when he thought no one else was listening, I saw Lord Elrond settle Arwen on his lap at the dinner table, handing her his untouched dessert without a word. She accepted it with the grace of one who expected such tributes, happily digging in as he smoothed a hand over her hair.

"Next time," he murmured, pressing a proud kiss to the top of her head, "try not to do it so thoroughly, my dear."

He was grinning.

Lord Faelion left Rivendell a week later. He has not returned since.

[marciaillust]

What discworld books have you read so far? I've been wanting to get into the series for a while but I never now where to start 🥺

My dear best friend is overseeing the whole process as I began reading the books as a part of a pact/challenge

They made me start with Going Postal as that would introduce me to "the most shaped guy out there that you'll love" and they were right I loved the guy and the book too. It's sorta a trilogy so I wanted to immediately go into the second book (Making Money) but I was forbidden from doing so as that includes Sam Vimes which is like a whole guy from the Nightwatch books, and my friend's big fav.

So then I was made to read Guards Guards. I didn't enjooooy GG all that much but later I was informed that Going Postal is Pratchett at his high point well into writing Discworld while GG is one of the first books in the series so he is still finding his footing there. But it did a great Job of introducing Sam Vimes, Carrot, Sybil the dragon lady and all the other Nightwatch characters.

While I'm not a fan of GG I think reading it was kinda necessary to properly enjoy the next Nightwatch book aka Men At Arms (I'm still doing my prep work for Making Money). Without reading GG I don't think Carrot growing up, or the conflict between Sam and Sybil, or the whole idea that the watch is getting new recruits would be anywhere as meaningful because how would you know what the status quo even was. I am really enjoying Men At Arms, I am currently mid-book! It came out like 4 years after GG so the writing style somewhat ripened in the meantime and resembles the quality of Going Postal (it has more pathos and new lovely freaks!!).

After I finish MAA I'll finally indulge in Making Money! And I've already set my eyes on Rising Steam (third book in the series). After that I might go back to the Nightwatch books but I've also been curious about the book with the Death's assistant, I am blanking on the name rn.

So that was my journey. I was told partially it was curated like that because it gives you the "potential blorbos" on a silver plate, as my friend knows I am no bookworm and I will require something to stick around for.

I am no expert on where to start either, I just know I am neck deep in the investment pool of Moist Von Lipwig

[alex51324]

Mohela Saga Resolution

So, the whole experience with my Mohela student loans, from a couple of weeks ago has resolved (kinda) and I know I'm not the only one having a terrible time with this company, so I wanted to share.

The saga, as briefly as I can summarize it, is that my loans keep popping back into full-price repayment status because of the IBR freezes, and a couple of weeks ago, I spent and entire work day on hold with them, their phone system did some weird shit, and I was D-O-N-E done with trying to reach them by phone.

See here if you want to read the whole thing, but if you've dealt with these chucklefucks before, it probably won't be anything earth-shattering.

What's important is that I did eventually get my problem fixed, and I'm going to tell you how.

First, I wrote a letter. Here's what I included in it:

A brief summary of the history of my problem.

A description of my efforts to contact them by phone. I did, at one point, manage to speak to a first-level customer service rep, who said that they had to escalate me to the next level, so I summarized that conversation.

The resolution I sought. I said what I actually wanted (for my account to be in an income-based repayment plan) and that if that was not possible, I would accept a processing forbearance. I stated directly that I consented to either of these solutions.

My contact information. I provided a mailing address, email, and phone number, and stated that if they called and left a message, they would need to provide me with a way to get back to them, because I was not able to spend another entire work day on hold for them.

A list of all of the ways that I was transmitting this letter to them (mail, fax, email, uploaded document).

Note that, if your problem is anything to do with a payment you can't afford, and there is relief that is available to you in theory but not in practice--e.g., because the forms have been frozen due to ongoing litigation, or because you have a special situation that needs to be addressed by a human being, or even because you turned everything in and they haven't gotten to it--then the magic words are processing forbearance. This puts your payments at zero until they get around to putting you into IBR or whatever else you're supposed to be in. Interest does continue to accrue, unfortunately, but you don't have to make payments and your account won't go into collections.

Once I had my letter written, I sent it to them through every means I could find:

Postal mail to their "request for assistance" address, as shown here.

MOHELA 633 Spirit Drive Chesterfield, MO 63005-1243

2. Fax, to the number 1-866-222-7060 , as shown here.

3. The "contact us" form, here.

4. Uploaded as a document in the "inbox" section of my account.

Additionally, I put the full text of the letter, into the complaint form at Studentaid.gov, along with a brief note about why I was sending it to them. (Basically, because I didn't trust Mohela to actually do anything with any of their copies.)

After doing all that, every few days I checked on my account on the Mohela website, and about 10 days later, my account was back in a processing forbearance, with my payment set to Zero and nothing showing as overdue.

Nobody has contacted me, so I don't know which of these methods actually worked. But one of them apparently did!

For the postal letter, I thought about doing a registered letter--so I'd have proof of delivery if questions arose later--but I wasn't going to be able to get to the Post Office for at least a few days, so I just dropped it in a mailbox with a regular first-class stamp. I thought I'd do it all again, with a registered letter that time, if about two weeks went by and nothing happened. I ended up not having to, but that's an option.)