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eldritchaccident · 7 months ago

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TIMING: Current LOCATION: Mabel’s Maple Shoppe PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup and @eldritchaccident SUMMARY: Kaden gets a call about a "rotten egg" at the store Teddy's working at for the moment. There's definitely nothing weird about the egg at all. CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

Another day, another strange call to animal control that Kaden was assigned to investigate. This particular call was about an egg and he was tempted to ignore it and do something a little more critical but the owner was insistent and so was Gary. The other officer told Kaden that the owner wouldn’t stop calling and making a stink (or was she saying there was a stench? He didn’t remember) and that he wasn’t going to fill out one damn line of Langley’s paperwork if he didn’t at least go by the place. A threat that the ranger couldn’t ignore. The shop in question was one he hadn’t been to before and one look at it, he could see why. Mabel’s Maple Shoppe. Seemed excessively niche, which wasn’t entirely out of place in Wicked’s Rest. But a place that “caters to all your maple needs” wasn’t going to be on the top of his list to stop by. Kaden didn’t know what maple needs consisted of but he was pretty sure he didn’t have any of those.

The scent hit him as soon as he entered the store, before the bell above the door could finish ringing. It wasn’t the worst odor he’d been up against but it sure wasn’t pleasant. Kaden tugged the collar of his shirt up a little to try and help mask it at least a little. Didn’t help much. There was someone at the counter and he figured it was best to speak to them before rifling through the shop for the creature in question. “Hey, got a call from the owner, Ms. Maple, I’m assuming. Animal control,” he said, holding up his badge to the person at the counter. “Something about a rotten strange egg. She said she saw a strange worm slither away from it I think? Was worried about a nest.” He cleared his throat, trying to mask the slight gagging from the smell, “Pretty sure I can sniff it out but wouldn’t mind being pointed in the right direction.”

—

Mabel’s Maple Shoppe was just another on a long long long long long long list of temporary jobs Teddy found themself enlisted to help with. Well, not so much enlisted by the establishment, but when an establishment found itself in need of a helping hand, the oft bored ex-demon was always just there to help. Just at the right time. It wasn’t spellwork, but it seemed almost magical in a way. Too quick on the draw, smiles too bright to ignore.

Teddy wanted to do everything humanity had to offer. They’d been removed from it for so long that even the simplest things filled them with joy. Time and its monotony were generally the reason for most people’s malaise with the working industry, but Teddy found that hopping from one occupation to the next kept it fresh, kept it fun. It added ever more names to their roster of those that owed favors. Not in the way of the fey, but of jovial connection and well earned gregariousness.

Of course, it was ever useful to have a handful of options to lean towards whenever a sudden task beyond their means reared its head. And Teddy had spent many of those good fortunes in readying the house for Emilio and Wynne. So they were back at it. Trying to find normalcy in their erratic work schedule after that… excursion into their past. In trying new jobs at new places, Ted could pretend they were someone else. A week at Mable’s and they would be off to somewhere else. Only, well, the egg happened.

Teddy hadn’t seen it. Not yet. Mrs Mable was going off about it, and how it was driving away customers. But somewhere along the five hundredth maple flavored item Teds had gone a little noseblind. The animal control officer walked in, and they were more than happy to flip the sign to ‘We’ll be back soon.’ so they could take a moment to direct him. “Did she even actually explain what she saw? She was acting like it was radioactive I swear. Wouldn’t let me leave the counter.” Though, whether that was something due to the egg itself or her desire to keep sales rolling, that was beyond them. Curiosity had been burning, and Teddy wasn’t usually one for self-restraint. But patience won out. Whatever it was, they’d find it together now.

—

Kaden shook his head. “She didn’t say anything specific. Honestly, I was pretty sure this was a job for…” He paused. “I don’t know, anyone else. Not animal control necessarily. But Gar– Officer Miller insisted that we at least check it out. Mostly so he could stop taking her calls.” He probably shouldn’t be so honest with a civilian technically but it was hard to care one way or another. He wasn’t there to be a cop, he was there to get paid to do the shit he was going to do anyway: clean up supernatural messes and help animals.

“I mean, if nothing else, it smells radioactive so good enough to reason to get it out of here. Just be careful,” Kaden warned. “If there’s a nest, the thing that made it could be nearby. And I’ve never encountered an animal that doesn’t protect its nest with everything it’s got.” Same with monsters. Putain, he hoped they weren’t dealing with something supernatural but he had a feeling he wouldn’t get that lucky.

—

Strangers liked to tell Teddy things. Must’ve just had one of those faces. Open and welcoming enough that extra details just slipped through the cracks and filled the ex-demon up with sated wonder, then more questions. They caught the trip in words, and found an opening to slide inside of, stepping in time with the officer’s gait as they rounded the back of the shop. “Is that Gary or Garfeild? I know a couple Millers.” They chimed in, a cheshire smile sprouting upon their lips. “One of them is a doll, the other just loves to try and get everyone else to do his work.” C’mon officer, at least give up the hot goss.

“Don’t actually know if radiation actually has a smell. I think it’d be a lot safer if it did, but I get what you mean. I’ve been dealing with this all morning. Do you want some Vick’s?” The mentholated vapor rub just under the nose was more than enough to block out the worst of it that morning. They didn’t really get much of a chance for an answer though, as the pair exited the old maple wood door and spilled out onto the patio.

—

“You do?” Kaden said, surprised to hear Gary’s name dropped by the employee. “The first one, yeah. Gary.” He sighed at the thought of the other officer. “Look, we have a pretty good set up. I do the field work, he does the office work. It’s a win-win.” The less time Kaden had to spend chained to a desk, the better. And Gary felt the same about getting scratched, bitten, and bruised on the job. Which would be fair enough anywhere but especially in this town. It was more dangerous than most so it was probably for the best that the only one trying to control the animals and monsters around town for the WRPD was a ranger.

—

Truthfully? No. Teddy didn't know the man. But those were the first two names to come to mind with a Gah- at the beginning, and Teds was always looking for a way to push themself into anyone else's life. A messy little habit, but a fun one. “Ahh, so you're more of a man of action then? That's a pretty good foil to old Gary. At least you like what you do.” They offered a smile.

It was overgrown and blushed with flowers just starting to bloom, but beneath one of the larger bushes, sure enough the remains of a messy insectoid infestation littered the mossy stone floor. Teddy’s eyes scanned the debris, excitement growing as they realized this was so much more than mundane. Not enough to recognize the species or anything like that, only that it wasn’t any bug they’d find in a natural history museum.

—

Kaden let the employee lead the way towards the back corner of the store, the musty smell growing more and more potent as they walked. It was almost enough to drown out the smell of maple – almost.

His brows furrowed as he leaned down to examine the source of the stink. “I don’t get it,” he started, “it’s just a damn–”

The words caught in his throat as the world shifted around Kaden, like he was seeing clearly for the first time in his entire life. It was as if he finally understood his purpose, what he was meant to be doing: his duty.

It wasn’t just a damn egg, far from it. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

—

The officer squatted and Teddy alongside him, carefully prying to get a clear look at whatever–Oh. Oh goodness. That same sweep of emotion infected the ex-demon gazed upon what must have been an egg, but, no- no that was– Well, of course it was their child.

—

Out there on the patio, one quick look at the employee next to him and it was clear to Kaden that they both felt the same way. That they were going to protect this egg — no, child — with their lives. Any worry of whatever the nest might belong to had faded away. It didn’t matter who or what made the nest or what made the egg, it didn’t belong to that creature. The egg belonged to them. Kaden reached out and carefully picked it up and cradled the egg in his arms. “We should get him some place safe,” he said to the employee.

Right. He just realized they hadn’t even exchanged names. “Kaden, by the way,” he said, glancing back at thm. “My name, that is. Don’t think I said it before.” His eyes didn’t stay away from the egg for long, practically glued to the miracle he was holding in his arms. “Speaking of, he needs one.” Once again, Kaden realized he wasn’t exactly being clear. “A name, I mean.”

—

The warm fuzzies spread throughout the caster, a total shift from the nosy ruse they had built up before. None of that really mattered anymore now did it? Who had time to poke anyone for information when they had precious cargo to care for. A warm hand came up to the officer– Kaden’s back. Teddy crept in closer, inspecting the egg, carefully reaching out to stroke its surface. Something deeply buried welled up in their chest. Somewhere between pride, determination, and devotion. They knew instantly they'd do anything for their little baby. That they'd make it work with–

Teddy didn't remember having an egg with Kaden.

But it was theirs. There was no doubt. The child was theirs. And they would care for it. “Oh–” a name, of course he needed a name. “What about…” The goat was already Levi jr, so that was out of the way. Maybe name it after Emilio? Shouldn't Teddy have had an egg with Emilio? Maybe Emilio just couldn't have eggs. Maybe that's why they had to have one with Kaden. Kaden was a perfect parent, just like they'd be. “Lio?” Teddy would figure out the mess in their mind later, it didn't matter that much, not compared to taking care of the baby.

The apron was more than enough soft fabric to create a small swaddling sling, one that Teddy carefully hung around Kaden's neck, all the while softly gazing at their dear new addition. “That works if she's a girl too. Or whatever, y’know. It's so hard to tell when they're this young.”

—

Kaden didn’t know how the egg got here or why he knew it was theirs or why— Wait, what was their name? The hunter squinted as he tried to read the name tag the other person was wearing. Telly? He was pretty sure that’s what it said. Anyway, he didn’t know how Telly and he ended up being the two destined to raise this egg and keep it safe but there was no doubt in his mind that it was anything other than a fact.

“Lio?” Kaden repeated, glancing up at them for a second before his eyes zeroed back in on the child in his arms. The sling was a welcome addition, it would help him keep them close, keep them safe, and make it easier to protect them from anything in this fucked up town that so much as looked at them wrong. “That could work…” Something about the name sounded familiar. It did remind him of his home, of Lyon. That was sort of nice. Almost like a family name, then.

Although he felt like Monty should be involved with this somehow. No, that was silly, of course Monty would help raise the egg. Even if he wasn’t the parent, he’d be a great stepdad. Or something like that. Kaden wasn’t sure what the right term for him was. Maybe they should name it after him? “If they’re a girl, we could call her Anya.” It was something like Montaña – close enough, at least. Not that it mattered much one way or another. “I’m sure they’re going to be perfect no matter what,” he practically cooed as he brushed a tender hand along the egg’s surface.

“We should get them home, though.” He looked back at Telly when it struck him that he wasn’t sure what home meant at that point. “I mean, I have a cabin. It’s safe out there. But I’m sure your place is good, too. Wherever that is.”

Hold on, wasn’t Kaden supposed to be on duty? No. He was supposed to take care of the egg. Or something like that. This was part of his job, he was sure of it. At least for now. Being a working parent was going to be difficult. And Telly was on the clock, too, weren’t they? They could both make it work. “I guess we should figure out work schedules, too,” he added. “You can leave the place closed for now, right? We should get supplies on our way. This petit ange deserves the best nest in the world.” If he could look at himself objectively, Kaden would have wondered where the grin spread across his face came from, but in the moment, it felt obvious — correct, even.

—

“Anya and Lio. A shame it’s not twins.” Teddy effused maternal joy, cooing over their shared precious cargo. “Though… I guess you never know with these kinds of things. We could just go with Lianya, sort of a combo.” For the first time in a while, their eyes traveled up from the egg to the man holding it. The slightest touch of confusion wormed in, only at the strangeness of how little they knew him, and how important he obviously had to be. They both belonged to this egg, so in some way, they belonged to each other. Right? Even if just as caretakers.

Home. Right, they should get it home. Needed a nest. Needed to bundle it up with joy and fluff and all the comforts of home. “A cabin? Aren’t the woods kinda…..” Fun to run around with a slayer and take care of the more monstrous mal-doers who would for sure try and hurt the people of Wicked’s Rest, and more than that, would hurt their little baby. “I’ve got a big house on World’s End Isle, lots of empty rooms. You could stay there too. Could bring all your stuff and there’d still be room. It’ll be safe there.”

Teddy had completely forgotten about the maple goods store until Kaden brought it back up, and in all honesty, it was still the furthest thing from their mind right then. “Ah I barely work here.” Noncommittally and disaffected, Teds could not care less about the tiny too sweet smelling store. “Mostly I just temp for fun, don’t really need the money. I’ll close up while you figure out what this lil guy needs.” They curled in close while helping the man to his feet, scritching at the ‘head’ of the egg as if it were an actual humanoid infant. “We’re gonna be the best parents, no matter what.”

—

“Lianya.” Kaden ran the name over his tongue before nodding. It was a solid compromise. “I like it. What about you?” he said, cooing to the egg. “Do you like that name, Lianya?” There was no actual response but he swore the egg grew a little warmer. Or brighter. Something like that, it was a good response. He could tell.

For a moment, Kaden was offended. What was wrong with his cabin? It was perfectly safe out there. All his weapons were out there. How was he going to protect this child if the weapons were in the cabin and he was on World’s End Isle with Telly? He sighed. He couldn’t argue that the island was more secluded and probably had better defenses. “Sure, we can do that. It means we’ll have to baby-proof more rooms, though.” Did he know what that entailed for Lianya specifically? Not really. They could figure it out. “After we pick up supplies in town, we can drop them off at your place and I’ll run to mine to grab what I need there.” And by that he meant weapons.

Kaden followed behind as Telly closed up shop, gently cradling the egg and rocking it ever slightly. Nothing about this made a lot of sense if he paused to think about it but at the same time, it made all the sense in the world. The skies had cleared and his purpose was right there in front of him, right there in his arms. Kaden beamed at Telly’s words. They were going to be the best parents, no matter what. “We will be,” he assured them. “And nothing in the world will stand in our way.”

#wickedswriting #eldritchaccident #chasseurdeloup #i wont apologize for art

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byberbunk2069 · 11 months ago

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@streetkid-named-desire tagged me for an OC association thing. I copy-pasted from their post

I tag @fourth-floor-at-langley, @medtech-mara, @aggravateddurian

I'm using the most recent pictures I have of them but their appearances are gonna be changing again over time (not so much with my netrunner tho)

First is Veil (aka V31L or any variation that other runners might have seen her handle as):

Animal: Standard domestic cat because that is just the general vibe netrunners give off tbh

Colors: 007BA7

Month: June/July (wrt birth month: January)

Plants: She's a California girl at heart so she likes palm trees

Numbers: I was gonna go for 23 for reasons relating to William Burroughs and Psychic TV but I'll go for 42 as the maximum RAM she had in the most recent playthrough

Songs:

Cowgirl - Underworld

Mindfields - The Prodigy

Teardrop - Massive Attack

Smells: Tropical fruits, coconut, vanilla

Time of Day: 10PM - 5AM

Food: Combination of classy Japanese dining and street food.

Drinks: Rum & Coke, beer, real coffee (bought off a black market dealer on the Net)

Elements: uwu the fifth one

Seasonings: the shit that makes Indian curries slap (I'm Bri'ish so I've only ever had a proper curry a few times and the others have been bastardised ones made at home)

Weapons: Quickhacks, Skippy, D5 Sidewinder, Hercules 3AX, suppressed Unity

Places: EdgeNet (Yoko Tsuru's shop), H10 rooftop

Sky: Clear night sky (so she can see the moon)

Weather: Rainy days, clear nights

Candy: I think bubblegum counts. Cigarettes definitely don't count.

Hobbies: Hacking, arguing with other Netrunners, remote controlling her Galena when she decides now is the right time to get in to a disagreement over the phone or with a passenger.

Artstyle: Patrick Nagel

Fear: The collective weight of guilt after spending 11 years of her life in NetWatch and the last few of those years sub-conning for Arasaka catching up with her. Losing her found family.

Clothing item: Black leather racers, knotted tank, personalised edgerunner with shoulder mounted monitor on the left sleeve and shoulder pad on the right, heeled boots (her wardrobe varies but that set in particular is her go to)

Three Emojis: 🧠⚡💥

Star Sign: Capricorn

Ronnie below the keep reading:

Animal: Some kind of attack dog, doberman maybe.

Colors: #660000

Month: August (birth month)

Plants: Roses

Numbers: 10 - which was the most she took on (so far) in an impromptu street fight in Northside. Unfortunately for her the gang was NCPD and they had to deploy a netrunner to pacify her.

Songs:

Boys Wanna Be Her - Peaches

Hips, Tits, Lips, Power! - Pigface/Silverfish

If You Want Blood (You Got It) - GWAR

bonus: Ratfinks, Suicide Tanks and Cannibal Girls - White Zombie (also Caramelldansen but because of that one Doom Eternal meme which is Ronniecore)

Smells: Pineapple

Time of Day: 8PM

Food: Pizza

Drinks: Beer

Elements: Fire

Seasonings: hottest possible chilli powder

Weapons: Cut-O-Matic, Baseball Bat, Carnage, her (cyber)fists

Places: Lizzie's, trailer park outside SanDom, Megabuilding H11

Sky: She was born way after the Time of the Red but that.

Weather: Rainy

Candy: leelou beans.

Hobbies: Fighting, sleeping, defending her output's honor (even though she's capable of standing up for herself).

Artstyle: Jamie Hewlett

Fear: Adam Smasher, Militech

Clothing item: black bustier, short shorts, harness, fishnet tights, combat boots

Three Emojis: 🦾👊🪚 < pretend thats a cut-o-matic

Star Sign: Leo

#hopefully this is legible #OC: Veil #OC: Ronnie #also I may have forgotten what this was supposed to be about and just started describing my OCs as how I see them

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semixfenz · 7 months ago

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mirandamckenni1 · 1 year ago

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langleycell01 · 1 year ago

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iPhone or iPad LCD Repair Warning Signs

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demospectator · 2 years ago

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Scenes of Waverly Place: Then and Now

As the first quarter of the 21st century draws to a close, change is in the air for Waverly Place (天后廟街; canto: “Tin Hauh miu gaai”), one of San Francisco Chinatown’s iconic small streets.

In his book San Francisco Chinatown: A Guide to its History & Architecture, historian Phil Choy wrote about the small street as follows:

“Waverly Place was originally known as Pike Street. Since the 1880s, local residents called it “Tien Hou Mew Guy” after the Tien Hou Temple located there. In the 1890s, the street was also home to the Kwan Kung Temple of the Ning Yung district association. On the opposite side of the street (22 Waverly) sat the Sing Wong Mew (Temple of the City God), while the Tung Wah Mew (Temple of the Fire God) was at 35 Waverly. . . .

“B 41. Chinese Josh-House, S.F., Cal., c. 1885. Photograph by I.W. Taber (from the Marilyn Blaisdell collection). The adjacent buildings appear to be of wooden construction and far different than the temple’s neighboring structures on Waverly Place in the following decade.

“Westerners have often referred to Chinese temples as “Joss Houses” although the Chinese word for temple (in Cantonese) is actually Mew. The word joss is a corruption of the Portuguese word Dios for God, stemming from the time of Portugal’s colonization of Macau in 1557. ...

“The street was also known as ��Ho Bu’un Guy” or “Fifteen Cent Street,” because of the barber shops providing tonsorial services for the price of fifteen cents.

The pulse of life on Waverly Place remained a popular subject for the photographers of the 19th century. I have written previously about the photographs of two of the principal and famous occupants of the street before and after the 1906 quake, namely, the Tin How Temple (to read more see here) and the Ning Yung district association’s headquarters (to read more see here).

“3546 The New Chinese Joss House, Waverly Place, San Francisco” c. 1887. Photograph by Isaiah West Taber (from the Marilyn Blaisdell Collection). The photograph supposedly taken in 1887 by I.W. Taber shows the new Ning Yung headquarters at 25-35 Waverly Place (the construction of which other sources report was completed in 1890). Seen at the top is the temple containing a shrine to Guan Di (關帝; canto: Guān daì implies deified status) or "Lord Guan" (關公; canto: Guān Gūng), while his Taoist title is "Holy Emperor Lord Guan" (關聖帝君; Guān Sing Daì Gūan).

Detail from the city of San Francisco’s “vice map” of July 1885 (from the Cooper Chow collection of the Chinese Historical Society of America).

In this article, we will view some of the other street photographs which researchers seldom examine in any detail.

A view north on Waverly Place along its eastern side and toward its T-intersection with Washington Street, c. 1880s. Photographer unknown. An approximate year for this rare photograph can be ascertained by a study of old San Francisco Chinatown’s pawnshops which occupied both sides of the 800-block of Washington Street during this era. In this photo, a sign possibly inscribed with the characters 寶興押 (canto: “Bow Hing aap”) appears on the second floor balcony of the building at the end of Waverly. According to the Langley directory for 1883, a “Bow Hing & Co. general merchandise” store operated at 820 Washington Street, which would be consistent with the signage and indicate an additional pawnshop business. The light façade of the Chinese Grand Theater at 814 Washington Street appears in the center background of the image.

“B2694 Chinatown, S.F. Cal. The Joss Temple” c. 1889. Photo by Isaiah West Taber (from the collection of the Bancroft Library). Some online sources date this photo as c. 1900, but the “Pacific Coast Scenery -- Alaska to Mexico Catalogue published by Taber in 1889 included this numbered “Boudoir” series image.

In this view of the Tin How temple at 33 Waverly Place taken from an elevated position on the south side of the street, several men can be seen hovering over a fortune teller’s divination table on the sidewalk in front of the temple. The large banner signage seen at the street level advertises the fortune-teller’s use of the 卦命 (canto: “gwah ming”) as his method of divination.

The temple of the Gee Tuck Tong (pinyin: ”Zhide tang;” 至德堂) can be seen at the right of the above photo at 35 Waverly Place. The Gee Tuck temple, dedicated to the Supreme Emperor of the Dark Heavens, was reportedly founded during the mid-1880s.

Tien Hou Temple on Waverly Place, c. 1890 – Photo by Willard E. Worden In this view of the west side of Waverly Place looking north to Washington Street, the top floor of the Gee Tuck Society (至德堂; canto: Gee Duck Tong) at 35 Waverly Place can be seen at the right: this temple had supposedly operated since the mid-1880s. By the time Worden took this photo, the wooden buildings adjacent to the Tin How Temple (天后古廟; canto: “Tin Hauh gǔ miu”) , seen at the left of the frame, had been replaced with masonry structures.

The view north from Clay Street up Waverly Place to its intersection with Washington Street in the distance, c. 1898. Photograph by Edwin Stotler (from the Edwin J. Stotler Photograph Collection / Courtesy of the Golden Gate NRA, Park Archives).

The view north from Clay Street up Waverly Place to its intersection with Washington Street in the distance, c. 1900. Photograph by Willard E. Worden. The sign for the Sze Yup Association can be seen above the balcony of the second floor of the 820 Clay Street building seen at left on the northwestern corner of the intersection with Clay Street.

The northeast corner of the intersection of Waverly Place & Clay Street, c.1900. Photograph by Willard E. Worden. The view north on Waverly Place, back from cobblestone-paved Clay Street. The Yoot Hong Low restaurant building at 810 Clay Street can be seen at right.

For a closer look at the eastern side of Waverly Place in old Chinatown, see my article about the series of photos taken by Oscar Maurer and D.H.Wulzen of the more northerly end of the street here.

A mother and two children at the northwest corner of Waverly Place and Clay Street in San Francisco Chinatown, c. 1900 (Courtesy of the National Archives; photo also in the collection of the California Historical Society). The signage of a basement eatery for workers,芳記 (canto: “Fong Gay”) appears at left.

Variously entitled “The Mountebank,” “The Peking Two Knife Man,” or “The Sword Dancer,” c. 1896-1906. Photograph by Arnold Genthe (from the Library of Congress).

“Genthe used various titles for this portrait of Sung Chi Liang, well-known for his martial arts skills. Nicknamed Daniu [canto: “dai ngau” or 大牛] or “Big Ox,” referring to his great strength, he also sold an herbal medicinal rub after performing a martial arts routine in the street. This medicine tiedayanjiu [canto: “tit daa yeuk jau” or 铁打雁酒]), was commonly used to help heal bruises sustained in fights or falls. The scene is in front of 32, 34, and 36 Waverly place, on the east side of the street, between Clay and Washington streets. Next to the two onlookers on the right is a wooden stand which, with a wash basin, would advertise a Chinese barber shop open for business. The adjacent basement stairwell leads to an inexpensive Chinese restaurant specializing in morning zhou [canto: “juk” or粥] or rice porridge.”

From Genthe's Photographs of San Francisco's Old Chinatown -- Photographs by Arnold Genthe -- Selection and Text by John Kuo Wei Tchen.

For reasons that are not entirely clear, the northern end’s east side of Waverly Place attracted less attention from Genthe and the photographers of the day. However, a closer study of the work of Oscar Maurer and D.H. Wulzen (as discussed here), allows researchers to place several of their photographs in the context of life and work on Waverly Place.

Untitled Chinatown street, c. 1898. (Photograph by Oscar Maurer (from the collection of the Oakland Museum of California, Museum Income Purchase Fund). Until now, no commentators were able to identify the location of this street scene on Waverly Place.

Fortunately for the researchers of old Chinatown, Maurer captured two crucial pieces of signage in his untitled 1898 photograph in the Oakland Museum which help in identifying the precise location in Chinatown of the buildings seen above. The first example can be seen in the vertical sign appearing at the left of the frame, containing the characters 致和堂參茸藥材 (lit.: “Gee Wo Ginseng Medicinal Herbs;” canto: “gee wo tong sum yung yeuk choy;” pinyin: “Zhì hé táng cān rōng yàocái”). The Horn Hong & co. Chinese business directory and lunar calendar for 1892 shows the Gee Wo Tong company located at 124 Waverly Place.

Detail from the Horn Hong & Co. Chinese directory for 1892 for the Gee Wong Tong company.

By the publication of the 1895 Langley directory the Gee Tau Hong & Co. and Gee Wo Tong & Co. shared the premises at 124 Waverly Place. The 1905 Sanborn map for this Chinatown street confirmed the presence of, and use of the property by, the Chinese herbalists. Having established the street on which the herbalists operated, the location of the basement eatery whose entrance signage can be seen in the center can be located with equal precision.

Moreover, by comparing Maurer’s photo with one by D.H. Wulzen of the same basement entrance, the full tradename of the eatery can be discerned as “Wah Ying Lung” 華英隆(canto: “wah ying loong”), a name which could also constitute literal shorthand for Chinese/English (or Chinese American). When viewed together, Mauer’s photo corroborates the partially-obscured address plate in the Wulzen photo as located at 120 Waverly Place.

Restaurant worker returning from a delivery to a basement eatery, c. 1900. Photograph by D. H. Wulzen (from the D.H. Wulzen Glass Plate Negative Collection (Sfp 40), San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public Library). The last two digits of the address at 120 Waverly Place can be seen over the door to the basement entrance. The right portion of the sign advertises literally seasonal, i.e., 時款 (canto: “see foon”) food.

Having established the address of the Wah Ying basement eatery at 120 Waverly Place, the men seen in Maurer’s photo are standing on the landing of the stairs to 116 – 118 Waverly Place. Occupying a lot on the east side of the small street, and across from the Tin How temple and the headquarters and shrine of the Ning Yung district association, the building served as a boarding house. The 1905 Sanborn map confirmed its use as “lodgings.”

Detail showing Waverly Place in San Francisco Chinatown from the 1905 Sanborn Insurance Map (Vol. 1, Page 39-40) of San Francisco, prepared by the Sanborn-Perris Map Company, Limited, of New York.

A detail from “Waverly Place - April 9, 1900” Photograph by D. H. Wulzen (from the D. H. Wulzen Glass Plate Negative Collection (Sfp 40), San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public Library). This close-up looks north on Waverly Place from the intersection with Clay Street. Magnification of the center portion of the image shows the building elevation, the partial signage for the basement entrance to the Wah Ying eatery, and the stairs on which the trio of Chinese men stood for Oscar Maurer’s photo in 1898.

“The First Born” Photograph by Arnold Genthe (from the Library of Congress) The above photo was taken on the east side of Waverly Place with the Tin How Temple in the background. According to historian Jack Tchen, “[h]eaddresses were often red with pearls or jewels and a red fluffy pompom on top. Sometimes bells were attached so that when the child moved they would make a noise. Silk tassels often hung down on both sides. The difference between the headgear of boys and girls was that girls’ headdresses came down and covered their ears, whereas boys’ did not. Girls’ holiday clothing generally had embroidered edges absent from comparable clothing for boys.”

Whether by design or negligence, the street signage for Waverly Place only bears its Chinese name, 天后廟街 (canto: “Tin Hauh miu gaai”) on the standard located at the north end of the small street in 2022. Nevertheless, the name remains a tribute to a 170 year-old tradition of veneration of a Chinese pioneer deity. Photograph by Doug Chan.

Today, Waverly Place retains its legacy as a distinct, Chinese American street.

Waverly Place, October 9, 2021. Photograph by Doug Chan

“On Waverly Place,” wrote historian Phil Choy, “ there is a unique concentration of buildings that represent the different types of traditional Chinese organizations. Architecturally the contiguous line of buildings combining classical motifs with Chinese elements and color created a Chinese streetscape neither East nor West bur rather indigenously Sen Francisco.”

“A Bit of Old China, San Francisco, 1905.” Oil painting by Edwin Deakin (from the collection of the Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco).

[updated 2022-12-2]

#Waverly Place #San Francisco Chinatown #Tin How Temple #Ning Yung Association #Gee Tuck Tong #Phil Choy #Arnold Genthe #Willard Worden #I.W. Taber #Oscar Maurer #D.H. Wulzen #Wah Ying basement restaurant

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years ago

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Something Seams Off || Irene and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Sew La Ti Do PARTIES: @threadofheart and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Kaden goes to Irene to repair his jacket and they have a snicker-snacker of a time. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

Kaden ran his hands along the leather jacket as he watched the signs of the stores along the street. He didn’t want to miss the repair shop. Clothing wasn’t usually precious to him. It couldn’t be, not as a hunter. Sure, he had to scrounge and save for new clothing back in the day, but any shirt or pants could get destroyed in the wrong monster fight. The best thing to do was usually patch it best as he could for as long as he could before tossing it aside for something else decent. But the leather jacket in his grip was different. This was a gift. Kaden had precious few gifts in his life that he held onto, at least not prior to coming to White Crest. Either way, if anything was worth taking care of, it was the jacket Blanche had given him. To the point he was careful not to wear it on hunts, at least not often. Sometimes it was hard to avoid. Still, he couldn't figure out where some of the holes in the piece were coming from. It didn’t make sense. Definitely beyond his skills to repair. Time to try a professional for once. He gulped before swinging the door open. He had to remember whatever the price, he was fine, he could afford it. Old habits were hard to break. “Hello?” he called out. “Uh, got a jacket that needs fixing. This is the place, right?”

After the online interaction with the owner of the leather shop, Irene was quick to research some tips on how to better mend leatherwork. Since it wasn’t her typical area of expertise, she wanted to improve on it in the event she had customers seeking that specific service. Scattered across her table were scrap pieces of leather she had practiced her stitching. Several of her poor needles already set aside and bent at odd angles. Just then, the jingle of the door chimes caused her to look up at the customer entering her shop. With a warm smile, she got up from her table and walked over to the counter. “Welcome, I’m Irene, and you’re in the right place. What sort of fixing does this jacket need?” she asked, her hands gently patting on the counter indicating for him to set down the piece. Upon brief examination, it certainly appeared to be well-worn, well-appreciated.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Kaden said, awkwardly and a little stilted as he walked towards the counter. He had no idea what the protocol was in this whole exchange, it wasn’t like he’d ever done it before. Thankfully she took the lead and indicated where to place the jacket so after giving her a slightly startled look, he did just that. Right. Made sense, she had to look at it after all. “Uh, there are some holes in it. Weird spots. I don’t think I made them.” Then again, he got so many injuries and brushed up against so many various fangs, claws, and pincers it was hard to keep track of the damage after a while. “Not that I-- I mean, I work in animal control. With the WCPD. Uh, Officer Langley.” Which probably didn't matter. Why the fuck was he introducing himself? And why was he nervous about a damn jacket repair? “You probably didn’t need to know that or care. Just, yeah. Weird holes. Does it… You think you can fix this? Not to-- I just don’t know what can and can’t be saved. Usually don’t try.”

Irene’s expert hands were quick to search typical areas where jackets typically formed holes. The seams didn’t seem to be split but with some of the holes, she likely would have to reline a couple of spots so that any fixing wouldn’t look like a patch job. Her eyes narrowed as she continued to study the jacket. “Overall, this looks like it’s in good condition, but the holes are… a little strange,” she noted aloud. “Like you said, definitely in some strange places. If this were a weather or cotton piece, I’d say maybe moths or something, but I’m a bit at a loss as to the cause.” Straightening up, she let out a small sigh and another smile. After all, her job wasn’t to determine what caused this but rather how she would fix it. “Well, Officer Langley, this probably will take me about a week. I think I have similar thread and fabric to fix this up, though once I’m done, it’ll look brand new.” It was clear this jacket meant a lot to him; the stress emanating from him was hitting Irene like a wall of bricks, so she hoped her words could offer some relief. “And I could offer you a rough estimate as well if you’re interested.”

Kaden rubbed the back of his neck as he watched the woman work through what was going on with his jacket. Putain, he wasn’t normally this nervous about simple human interactions. Something about it being new, unknown, it left him unsure. “Yeah I didn’t think moths would go for leather, but a brow--” Merde. He caught himself before he started talking about fae and monsters. Barely. “I mean, yeah probably not moths.” He felt his stupid heart pounding in his chest over a stupid conversation with a seamstress. The fuck was wrong with him? Maybe he shouldn’t quit hunting. He clearly couldn’t handle normalcy. “A week? Is that-- I mean, sounds good. I’m not sure how long this would normally take. I’ve never had anything repaired before. I normally just throw away things once they get damaged but I guess if I did that you wouldn’t have any business so anyway this is, uh, new. For me.” He was certain she could tell without him saying shit. Her next assurance had him even more wide eyed. Shit, was he really that obvious? He didn’t think he looked poor. He didn’t right? Fuck, maybe he did. “A rough estimate? Oh. Yeah. That’d be good. To know. If you--” His brow furrowed as he cut his sentence short once more. This time it wasn’t just him not knowing how to speak like a normal person. Something was moving. His brows knit together as he looked closer at the jacket. “You’re not…” His eyes darted back up to her. Her hands were in fact not underneath the jacket. And yet it was wiggling. “That’s not you moving it, is it?”

Irene could feel the intensity of his emotions grow despite her telling him that the jacket could be fixed. Was something else worrying him? In the past, she had worked with clients who held incredible sentimental value to their clothing articles. Perhaps this was one of those instances. With a warm smile, she looked across the counter at the man. “This jacket must mean a lot to you if you’re bringing this in for extra care. I assure you that your jacket is in great hands with me, officer. You’re doing great,” she added lightly with a small chuckle. Grabbing a notepad and a pen, she scribbled a few quick notes about the current condition of the leather jacket and the exact fixes the officer was requesting. That helped her approximate the cost. Just as she was about to write out an estimate, his question caught her by surprise. “Hm? N-no, what do you mean?” she asked, her eyes instantly darting to the jacket to see brief movement. Shoot, did her shop have mice or rodents? “Oh goodness!” Without thinking, she lifted the jacket up, expecting to find some sort of critter there only to spot something… not quite exactly that or anything she had seen before. “What--” she jumped back in surprise, her eyes wide after she immediately dropped the jacket back down.

Kaden nodded a little along with her words. “I mean, sure it, uh, I like it and all. But it’s not that important.” Putain, why did he say that? What if that meant she was less careful with it now that she thought he didn’t care? “Not that-- I mean. Yes. Thank you.” Fuck, what if she was fae? And he just thanked her. And why did she have to reassure him that he was doing fine with a basic social interaction. Sadly, his ineptitude wasn’t the biggest disaster in the room. When she moved the jacket, out hopped a small rodent looking creature. Only it wasn’t a mouse or rat, no no. That was a snicker-snacker. No missing it. “Putain,” he grumbled to himself. “No wonder there were holes.” Out of instinct, Kaden reached for his knife in his back pocket, but his hand hovered and hesitated. Just long enough for the supernatural rodent to scutter off. Shit. But he couldn’t just stab the snicker-snacker right in front of her in her shop. He wasn’t the most experienced with social norms, but he was pretty fucking sure destroying shops with knives was frowned upon. He twisted and turned looking to see if he could find the creature. “Must have been in the jacket. Not sure how I missed that.” Had to have crawled in one night when he was hunting. At least he hoped that was the case. If he had an infestation in his apartment, well, he didn’t want to think about the destruction waiting for him at home. “Did you see where it-- there!” he shouted as he leapt towards a corner of the store, diving onto the floor, trying to clasp the rodent with his bare hands. It skittered just out of reach, running to the other side. Shit. He had to get it or else it could be bad news for her shop. It had definitely gone to the left. Only, when he glanced to the right, he saw it there, too. No, not the original one. There were two. “Uh. Think you’ve got a problem here,” he told her, trying to pick himself up off the floor.

If the rodent-looking creature scared Irene, the man pulling out a knife immediately caused the seamstress to shriek out of surprise and fear. But her attention was quickly drawn back to the thing that jumped off her counter and was not running around her shop. With wide eyes, she pulled her gaze back to the man as she tried to process just what had happened. Irene wasn’t normally one for any sort of judgment, but yes, how had this man conveniently not realize that something like that was burrowing his jacket? Before she could even respond, Irene toward the floor as the creature skittered across her feet to the man’s left. Another yelp escaped her lips as she jumped back in surprise. It was one thing for rodents to be scampering around, but she will not have them messing up her shop. Trying to think quickly, Irene grabbed a broom from the corner and glanced to the right and saw… another one. Confusion etched across her face. “Oh no…” she muttered quietly as she slowly raised her broom. Was this her weapon now or a poor decision of a shield? Who knew. “What are those?” she asked in a soft voice, hoping not to startle these creatures with any sudden noise.

This was a problem. One snicker-snacker was bad news. Two were exponentially worse. And for all they knew, there were more than even that. Kaden started to listen and look for any more signs of them, trying to keep his steps quiet as he ducked down to look at any and every corner. “Snicker--” He paused before finishing his answer. Saying “snicker-snackers” was going to make him sound like he was out of his mind, wasn’t it? And it wasn’t exactly keeping the supernatural a secret at that point either. Putain. “Uh, rodents. Mutated mice. I think.” That worked, right? “They’ll eat through just about anything so be careful.” This whole shop would be in bad shape if an infestation broke out. All the clothes and fabric would never last. He glanced over to see how she was holding up. Broom wasn’t a bad idea on her part. Shit, if only he had his work kit. No nets or cages on him now, unfortunately. “Got anything to trap them with? A basket. A bowl. Anything?” He saw a jar full of pins. This was a terrible idea. “Putain,” he grumbled to himself as he dumped the pins as carefully as he could manage onto the table he picked the jar up off of. “Sorry about that. I, uh, I mean looks like it’ll work.” He caught a blur of motion out of the corner of his eyes and leapt towards it, jar in hand. “Sweep it towards me! Corner it”

Irene watched the man move around expertly ready to attack. She clutched the broom tighter against her chest as her heart pounded loudly in her ears. “Snicker? Like--what, like the candy?” she asked incredulously. Her brow knitted tightly as she tried to keep an eye on even just one of these creatures. “Mutated mice. Wonderful. Thank you evolution,” she muttered under her breath as she took slow, quiet steps through her shop. Rodents weren’t something she was scared of; hell, she’d seen her fair share of very brave rats in New York. This? This should be a piece of cake, though she had no idea what sort of advantages these mutations gave these rodents. Her eyes quickly scanned the room in response to his request. “Uh… how’s this? Wait!” she called out, unable to find a suitable container before the pins were spilled out. Great. But she had little time to process that before she also caught sight of a dashing blur past her. Instinctively, she swept broadly with the broom, the bristles making contact with something, and a loud squeak seemed to indicate she must have caught the rodent. “Coming your way!” she called out as she made one swift broom push toward the man. “Well, that has to be one, right? Is that it?”

“Uh, sort of,” Kaden started. With how often he ran into the supernatural in this town, it was hard to remember how few of the residents actually were in the know. Code said to keep shit secret, he needed to try a little harder. As he dove, he slammed the lar over top of where he’d seen the blur. Only to catch something just to the left of him. Shit. He reached out with the jar again as she swept the lump towards him, capturing the creature underneath. “Got it!” he shouted, keeping both hands on top of the small jar, just in case. There was a sound of something splitting behind him. Putain. He kept one hand on the jar as he twisted to try and look behind him. A table leg had snapped in two and he was certain if they didn’t hurry, there might be less than three legs there. “Shit, shit, shit.” He was making a real fucking great impression here. He had to let go of the jar to get over to the other one. “Uh, do you have a book? Or a weight? Or something? And one more--” He paused. “Maybe two more jars. Just in case.”

Irene's stress levels increased, both from wanting these creatures out of her shop and from the fact that this whole instance was creating a giant mess of her shop. Had these things always been around this entire time? A hazard of her work she never considered before? As the man dove down, Irene held her breath until she saw that he had managed to catch something. “B-book? Um, goodness, I have uh I have a couple of binders of fabric swatches,” she said, frantically reaching for these from the desk in the back. And jars. Her eyes looked for a few more of those, all filled with things like thread scraps or buttons. The priorities now though was definitely in capturing these creatures, so she poured the contents out into an empty box and quickly returned to the man. And then she saw the cracked leg on her table. Oh goodness why was this happening. “I hate to bombard a customer with orders, but please get these things out of here before the rest of my shop is destroyed,” she pleaded.

This was not the first impression Kaden had planned to make. Granted, he didn’t start off on the best foot so guess he didn’t have much to lose. He’d shifted and let his foot rest on the jar while she went to grab more supplies to trap the creatures, untrusting of what would happen if he left it unweighted. He didn’t want to find out if the snicker-snacker could topple over the glass. At least it couldn’t eat it. Well, it shouldn’t at least. It wasn’t exactly wood or fiber. He looked down. Floors should be safe, too. Right, better get them out quickly. “Thanks,” he said, taking the book and the jars from her. He dumped the book on top of the makeshift snicker-snacker trap and hoped like hell it was enough to keep it there. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the little pest run up and back towards his jacket. “Oh no you don’t,” he said, diving towards it and yanking it away off the counter. The mutant mouse went spinning and flying in the air as the rug was pulled out from under it, but landed on its feet and scurried off. Merde. He’d have to be more careful.

Jars in hand and ready to pounce, Kaden tried to move quietly around to the back of the counter to see if it had landed back there. A flash of fur and horns darted out, squealing towards the table with three legs. “Not today, you little bastard,” Kaden said as he threw himself at the table, crashing into it, causing all sorts of odds and ends to go flying and clattering to the floor as he wrestled to get the jar on top of the creature. All he got was a spool of thread. Good thing she’d handed him two jars. He reached out with his left hand and slammed the glass down, praying he didn’t break it with his hunter strength and heard a squeal as the tail wriggled out from underneath the lip. If it were a mouse or a rat, he might feel a ping of remorse. But a snicker-snacker? He dug the jar down to the floor a little harder before the tail snaked its way back under the container with another squeal. “Got it,” he said, breathing heavily as he pushed himself off the floor.

Irene watched with astonishment as the man moved so expertly. Her eyes darted back and forth between the now-occupied jar and the precarious situation of her table. “Sure…” was all she managed to respond. With her hands now empty and the man chasing after the other “mutant rodents,” Irene’s attention honed onto the jar. She could hear the skittering of the creature, sounds of tiny claws scraping against the glass in an attempt to escape. Leaning down onto her hands and knees, Irene took a peek at the rodent inside, this snicker thing, and let out a small gasp. It looked like a mouse or a hamster but with horns. What the heck was in the White Crest water that mutated the rodents into something like this? Her thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sudden slam from the man, the sound of another jar crashing onto the ground and securing another creature in its confines. “O-okay, what do we do now? I mean, are we supposed to let these go out in the wild? Is there animal control for something like this?” And how dangerous were these things? So many questions ran through her head. Then her face paled lightly at the next thought. Did these need to be exterminated? Despite the trouble they brought, the idea soured her stomach.

Kaden brushed off his pants and arms after standing and taking a look at the chaos around the room. Putain. Not how he intended this to go. Couldn’t even have a simple interaction in a store in this goddamn town. “Lucky for you, I am animal control. Obviously not on duty right this second. Or else, you know, I’d be prepared.” He sighed and pushed his hair back into place. “They’re pretty destructive, as you can see,” he said, gesturing to the poor table. Shit. “Uh, I can, pay for that, by the way. I sorta brought them here.” No clue how he was affording that but tables couldn’t cost that much, right? Shit. “Reproduce exceptionally fast, too.” He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. This was the worst part. People already had bad takes on animal control half the time. He’d been called an animal killer too many times for his liking. And it’s not like he could tell her these were clearly monsters and out himself. No one liked to hear about dead animals and he couldn’t blame them. But these weren’t sweet little mice, these were pests. Abominations. Capable of destroying full houses if left to their own devices. “For now, I’ll take them out of here. They’re definitely not adoptable, though. I’ll do a relocation out in the woods, though.” He hoped she would buy it. There was no way he was going to chance a snicker-snacker infestation in town.

It was the sudden calmness that stressed Irene out even more. Was this it? Were all of them caught in her jars? “You? You’re animal control?” Had he said that earlier before all of this happened? She couldn’t recall. A hand ran through her hair, the other hand almost resting against her damaged table before she spotted the broken leg. She quickly pulled back and sighed. At least that table was a hand-me-down from the previous tenant of the shop, and Irene had been hoping to upgrade to a more customized work surface. “Um, yea, th-thanks, I think,” she said mindlessly, unable to fully assess the severity of these creatures. “Like rabbits. Or rats. And I thought New York rats were damaging,” she muttered to herself. How did those things even scurry onto him and into her shop? “Right, your jacket though. If uh if you still wanted that mended, I can still take that on but I might need more time now because…” her voice trailed as she gestured to her mess of a space.

“Officer Langley, yeah. That’s me. Animal control.” Kaden almost felt like he should apologize for that fact. Almost. He did catch them, after all. “But yeah, like rabbits or rats. Only they’ll eat through your table legs. Uh, anyway, if you don’t mind, I’ll go get something more appropriate to transport them and come back.” He’d make sure to bring a knife with him, too. Maybe a few extra cages in case more of them showed up in the interim. He was about to turn and walk out when his eyes shot back to the jacket, brows raised. Right. He almost forgot. “Oh, yeah. If you can. No rush. At all. Um, thanks, and,” he paused to look around the room, “sorry. I’ll be back soon.”

#writing #wickedswriting #chatzy #threadofheart #irene #something seams off

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meetthetf2hacker · 4 years ago

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☀️, ❄️, ☕️, 🏞 and 📚 from the OC ask prompt! :’^D

Prompt

❄️has been answered here!

☀️ What makes your OC genuinely happy? A person, an item, their hobby? Where is the place they’re happiest, or most at home? What is the happiest they’ve ever been?

Asking her directly might net you an answer like "winning", but, in truth, nothing makes her happier than spending time with the people she cares about. Sleepovers with Pyro really lift her spirits after a long week. She gets a genuine rush of joy when Scout invites her to watch a movie or play a game with him, and spending time sitting with Sniper in the watchtower while the radio plays quietly in the background gives her a sense of peace she's never experienced before. She also enjoys quiet moments where she gets to sit and just listen to music.

☕ Give us one (or more if you feel like it) of your OCs deep dark secrets! Why do they keep it hidden? Spill the tea!

The person Hacker used to be is legally dead. Before she signed up with Mann Co., she faked her death and proceeded to erase anything that could link her back to her old life. Both Spy and Miss Pauling have tried on multiple occasions to dig up information about her, only to come back empty-handed. There's an ongoing discussion between the mercs whether Tess Langley is her real name or an alias.

🏞️ If your OC could travel to anywhere in their world where would they go? Why? If they could live there would they?

Milan, Italy! It's one of the style capitals of the world, the scenery is beautiful, the food is delicious, the weather is pleasant...Hacker would do just about anything for a shopping spree in Milan. She wouldn't want to live in one place for too long, though. Ideally, she'd bounce around a couple of the major urban centers of the world to stay incognito.

📚 If your OC was given some kind of forbidden knowledge, what would they do with it? Would they tell anyone? Use it for evil or good? How would it change their outlook on life, if at all?

How hilarious that I would get this question while I'm planning a comic around the concept as I type this. Hacker's entire job involves her acquiring knowledge that she shouldn't have access to. While most of that is at Mann Co.'s behest, she does quite a bit of snooping in her free time. Her favorite thing to do is dig up evidence of the shady business corrupt officials get into and blackmail them for personal gain. Once she's gotten everything she wants from the deal, she'll release the information publicly and laugh when she gets the news of the life-ruining aftermath.

#answers #allfedoras #ask game #tf2 hacker

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kadavernagh · 4 years ago

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Bone Friends || Regan & Alcher

TIMING: Before the morgue scream. LOCATION: Coffee/cafe place! PARTIES: @kadavernagh and @zahneundklauen SUMMARY: Not that kind of bone.

White Crest was a strange town, with even stranger people. But Alcher didn’t mind all that much. Her life had been anything but mundane, and she preferred it that way. Life wasn’t worth living if it was boring, and she had a curiosity that was hardly sated by staying still. While humans were inferior and unworthy of her time usually, they could still be interesting. Besides, she was trying to blend in here. White Crest was ripe with hunters, so she really needed to stay under the radar. And the human she’d talked to online asking for jars seemed strange enough to be interesting and not a waste of time, while still helping her stay under the radar. She’d gathered up the few bottles she did have to offer her as well as some of the bones from her collection, and made it to the new sandwich shop she’d told her to meet her at. The “grand opening” sign was still up, and they were even offering a free cookie with each purchase of a sandwich. Alcher ignored it and headed inside, glancing around. Someone gave her a strange look, noting the collection of glass jars stuffed in her arms, but she ignored them, too, and headed for an unoccupied table to wait. She set her jars down and sat facing the door, wondering when the strange human would show up. Lucky for her, the scent preceded the person. She reeked of death and lemon juice-- and something else. Something overly familiar.

Langley.

Alcher’s eyes settled on the woman as the door opened. For a moment, her anger overwhelmed her. She could kill her right here, right now. But-- no. It would be too easy, too obvious. Her cover would be blown. And besides, this woman did not seem like a hunter. She did not carry herself in that zealous manner, and her hands were not stained with scars and calluses. Alcher watched her look around, locking eyes with her after a second, and smiled. Yes, she would play this a different way for now. Stood as she approached. “Regan, I presume?” she said, holding her hand out. “Ada.”

Find a better way, her dad had said, among so much else. But the better way Deirdre was teaching her didn’t seem to be working. Maybe if she fully dedicated herself, went out to practice with jars every waking moment she wasn’t at the morgue, she would finally see some progress. Though it seemed unlikely. And Regan couldn’t count how many jars she’d already screamed through; it seemed doubtful White Crest even had a large enough supply to sustain this for much longer. But she remembered the fellow bone-loving woman who had plenty of mason jars to offer, and was quick to take her up on that offer of getting coffee. She pocketed a shrew skull she’d found and cleaned a couple of weeks ago, hoping Ada would more eagerly receive the gift that many other people she knew.

It didn’t take Regan long to find who she was looking for. There weren’t many people inside the cafe -- a worrying sign, considering it was a new business -- and she had found Regan’s eyes at the same time. The first thing Regan noticed was that she had incredibly smooth-looking skin. She imagined that it would maintain its texture even in the throes of pearly, post-mortem skin slippage. She had the sense not to share all of that thought, but people liked being complimented, right? “Woah,” Regan said, taking in the woman’s proud stance and bright eyes. She was beautiful. Objectively, of course. Her eyes flicked down toward her hand, extended, and Regan’s slow pulse spiked, just briefly. Risk having her notice the cold skin, or come off as rude and even more socially inept than she actually was? It was always a difficult choice. She opted for the former, shaking the woman’s hand as briefly as she could manage. “You, uh, have excellent skin. Oh, but not in a weird way! I just mean, it has a healthy glow and consistency. It would likely make an effective graft.” There. No mention of death and skin slippage at all. She was doing well. “I’m Regan. I mean, you already know that, considering, well--” She motioned to the interior of the cafe, “we’re here. It’s nice to meet you, Ada. I brought something for you, but perhaps we should get coffee first.”

Alcher gave a satisfied smile at the compliment. It almost made her forget the cool touch of the woman’s skin, and the tangy, sour taste in the air that was stuck underneath the smell of death and steel. Her eyes scanned Regan as her brows knit together. Clearly she was not human-- so, then, why did she smell like a hunter? Why did she smell like the Langley boy? Alcher remembered the smell of his fear from that night, coating him like a blanket. Like the arms of the parent’s whose blood stained Alcher’s hands. It was one she’d never forget. And this woman, she was close to him, and Alcher was eager to find out why. So she put on a grin, and nodded. “Thank you,” she said, remembering how her mother’s skin had glowed in the same way, always so smooth and soft. “It’s not weird at all to say. I don’t often get woah’s from people, but I suppose I don’t mind it in this case.” If something about her comment was awry, Alcher did not notice. The slight shift in her accent warbled between a gritty German tongue and the light Polish sounds. She needed to focus.

“You have excellent skin as well. I’m not really an expert, and can’t say whether it would be good for grafting-- but you have very few blemishes, despite how pale you are.” She went to sit again, when Regan suggested getting their drinks first. Right, that’s what people met up at coffee shops for, right? Alcher didn’t entirely like coffee, but a good tea could really hit the spot. “Right, of course! Shall we?” she gestured towards the counter. “And it’s nice to meet you as well, Regan. I’m new in town, so I don’t know too many people or places yet. Is this your first time here? Aside from the death scene?”

Regan felt the blood rise to her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to say woah, and had hoped Ada wouldn’t comment on it. At least she didn’t mind… and actually said as much. “Are you from Germany, then? What brought you here?” She asked, now that she’d heard a little more of the woman’s accent. Though Kaden’s accent was primarily French, she did catch the occasional German slipping in -- a byproduct of living there for most of his adult life. She thought she caught some of the same sounds in this woman’s voice. Not that it truly mattered -- White Crest had a way of swallowing people up, no matter where they originally came from, and whether they wanted to live here or not. Regan couldn’t help but smile as her compliment was well-received. That didn’t seem to happen often. The reception or the smile. For the most part, she’d been irretrievably glum since coming back from Augusta.

But the smile was whipped off her face at the mention of being pale. Having the heart rate of a dying sloth, to quote Queenie, would do that. “Right, um, coffee. I suppose that’s why we’re here! I mean, that, and-- I saw the mason jars. Not that I wouldn’t have wanted to meet you anyways.” She quickly added the last part. “I don’t speak with many individuals who share my appreciation for bones.” She hurried behind Ada over to the counter, where they ordered. Regan, ever-cautious of breakable things, opted to get her coffee to-go in a disposable cup rather than one of their nice coffee mugs. After dumping far too much sugar and cream into her coffee and suspecting some harsh judgement -- even if silent -- from Ada on the matter, she headed back to their table. “I’ve never been a patron here before, no,” A glance around. The place was still largely empty. “It doesn’t seem like others have, either. I’m sorry I don’t know any of the “cool” places in town. I know some people who are, uh, you know, cool, though. They might have some suggestions for you.” Regan stared down at her styrofoam cup. Meeting people for the first time was always awkward. As well as the second time. And the third. Regan felt an almost compulsive need to fill the growing silence. “Want to hear about asphyxia? I mean, wait, no -- uh -- pediatric dea-- no. Oh, I have a skull for you!” She reached over to her bag, delicately pulling out the small shrew skull, and setting it on the center of the table. “Not human, obviously, but it’s -- is that okay? I mean, not that it isn’t human. A human skull would never be an appropriate gift. But is it okay that I’m giving you a skull?”

“Poland, actually,” Alcher said quietly, feeling her stomach still twist at the mention of her homeland. “One of my caretakers was German, though. Must be what you’re hearing.” She’d learned a long time ago how to cover her tracks, and she needed to be especially cautious if she was going to become “friends” with someone who smelled of the Langley child. It was a risky game, but Alcher knew that the reward would be worth it-- that, and Regan didn’t seem to be that bad of a person. And she wasn’t human, so that was definitely a plus. Smiling, Alcher put in her order, giving a curious eye to Regan’s choice of using a cardboard cup over the warm, ceramic mugs. Alcher perhaps had a strange fondness for them, something her father would have deemed “too human” to take an interest in. “Well, now you at least have one who shares your interest,” she said softly, though the sentiment was returned-- Alcher also did not meet too many individuals, including other wolves, who shared her interest in bone collecting.

As they sat back down, she glanced over at Regan, examining her more carefully. Her nervous temperament almost made Alcher feel the same way, but she’d practiced for many years on how to put away her emotions and fake being human. Another smile fell easily onto her face. “I think cool is a relative term,” she said smoothly, “no need to apologize. As far as I’m aware, this place is cool. I don’t mind less busy locations.” The silence between them wasn’t anything that concerned Alcher, but Regan was already talking again by the time Alcher was done fishing the tea bag from her cup. Setting it aside, she looked at the gift presented to her. Perhaps to anyone else, this might be strange, and even Alcher was minutely aware that giving strangers gifts on a first meeting was strange as well, but she didn’t mind-- nor did she care. “It’s beautiful,” she said, ignoring everything else Regan had said about it being weird and worried that it was okay. She reached out and took the small skull into her hands and turned it over. “It’s so pristine-- did you clean it yourself?” she asked, looking across the table at her with excited eyes. Remembered that she, too, had a gift for Regan-- though it was nothing along the lines of a shrew skull. Setting it aside again, she pushed the jars she’d collected towards her. “This was all I could manage to find, I apologize it’s not more. Though if I do come into possession of some, I can always give them to you as well.” Death was not entirely a subject Alcher enjoyed-- her past and her heart was surrounded with it-- but that did not mean she hated it. “Also, I don’t think you ever told me-- what death scene did you examine here?”

Not only did Ada seem to enjoy the gift -- she recognized a pristine bone when she saw one. “I did! I mean, kind of.” Regan wondered if she could truly take credit for the work her beetles did. “I’m a forensic pathologist, one of the Medical Examiners here in town. I keep tanks of dermestid and carrion beetles to clean the soft tissue from any bones that need it. Of course, they’re just as happy to eat the tissue and fur from any animal carcasses I find. I’ve, uh, always enjoyed collecting bones, and articulating them when I’m lucky enough to find a whole skeleton.” It was impossible to keep her mind from turning to the letter her dad left her. To the hidden coyote skeleton in the basement. To all of the small moments when he’d shamed or feared or alienated her for that attraction.

Thoughts soured, Regan reined in her excitement, setting her hands flat against the table. She watched as Ada placed the jars next to their drinks -- she’d found a considerable number of them just walking down the beach. “You seemed to have found someone’s old mason jar stash,” she observed, tapping one of them with a nail, “this is more kindness than I’d expect from most people. I appreciate it. And it’s-- they’re for something important, even though I can’t tell you what it is.” Not without sounding like a lunatic. She was sure Ada was far too sensible to believe in things like-- well, like things Regan didn’t believe in, either, even when they came screaming.

“Ah, the death scene…” Regan’s eyes ticked to the door. The decedent had been found right outside the cafe, and upon his gastric emptying, it was clear he’d just eaten their food. That was only a coincidence, though, as the cause of death was coronary heart disease. “It was what we pathologists would call a natural death,” she explained, “it still goes to my table because the decedent died alone or not under the care of a physician, but the death was due to disease or natural processes within the body.” You make a living in ugly things. She sipped her coffee, trying to distract from the uninvited thought. Vulture. She nearly choked on it. Regan steadied her cup with a shaky hand. “Anyway, the decedent was found just outside. Heart attack. The owner of the cafe was, unsurprisingly, concerned that their food had something to do with the death. That wasn’t the case, but even so, might have something to do with how few people are here. Not that I mind, either. I’ll have to take my boyfriend here at some point.” Regan looked around. “You’d think the whole town would be empty if people feared death so much, huh?”

Forensic pathologist. Alcher didn’t immediately know the title, but she did know what a medical examiner was. So very human. So very strange. Regan was one of the supernaturals who tried to fit in with human society, wasn’t she? Alcher had met quite a few along her travels-- they all seemed so miserable, trying to be part of something that would never accept them. Something that they were better than, that they deserved better than. Had the Langley hunter cut this poor woman down? Forced her to be within a society that was beneath her? The thought forced a bubble of anger into Alcher’s throat and she hid it behind her cup of tea, swallowing hard. “We share that sentiment, then. I used to love scouring the woods behind my farm for bones, though I did not have any beetles to help me clean mine.” Her teeth did that work instead. A calmer smile came to her face at the subject change. “Or something of the like, I suppose. Whenever I walk along the beach I try to clean it up-- these are just the ones I found while doing that. People seem to believe the ocean is their waste dump, it’s the least I can do to help.” She set her cup down and leaned forward, hands folded in front of her where her chin came to rest. “You do not need to explain anything to me. I did not come here expecting anything in return, and you’ve already gone beyond that.”

When the conversation turned back to Alcher’s question of the death scene, she followed Regan’s line of sight as it ticked to the doorway and back. And as she listened, she noticed the nervous shake to Regan’s hand, and her unsuccessful attempt to steady it. She opted to ignore it, for now, and turned her gaze back up to Regan. “Death is just inevitable, isn’t it?” she answered, tilting her head slightly. “There’s no reason to fear it. I believe people fear...pain more than death, but they often mistake the two.” Sometimes, she made sure someone’s death was painful, but mostly, it was quick and painless. There was no need to make prey suffer simply for being prey. But hunters, well-- they deserved pain and suffering. They deserved much more than that. “I haven’t been in town too long, but to me, it seems like most people prefer to simply turn a blind eye. What’s that saying? Ignorance is bliss?”

“Of course it is. Everyone gets one.” Regan nodded, appreciating Ada’s cold rationale. So many people felt death was a taboo subject, which just made the grieving process harder for them later. “People conflate death with loss, as well. They’re not the same. There’s-- it’s normal to miss people who have died, to grieve them, but death isn’t at fault. It’s just part of life. The last part, but part of it nonetheless.” That statement, of course, didn’t give next of kin much comfort. She learned quickly not to speak like that around those who had just lost someone important. That was still the hardest part of her job, the only part that didn’t come naturally to her. It didn’t help that she always had the nagging thought that Queenie would be better at it.

“As for ignorance being bliss…” Maybe there was truth to that saying. How much happier had she been before her dad’s death? Before she was forced into seeing what other people seemed to accept so readily and naturally? Regan wasn’t certain she was ever blissful, but happier? Yes. Absolutely. It was better to be alienated for her interests than burdened with the knowledge her dad had given her in that letter. “I believe it’s a true statement in many cases. But even knowing that, I don’t know if I could temper my curiosity. I’ve always asked a lot of questions.” Which seemed like a mistake, now. Regan drank from her coffee -- better than Coffee Plus’s offerings. Especially since the last time she had gone there was-- no, don’t think about that. Her own thoughts were beginning to feel like a minefield. “Ada,” she met the woman’s intelligent eyes, “How much do you know about this town? I mean, really know about it. Why did you move here?” The death rate was astronomical, which was Regan’s excuse -- and part of the truth of things -- but she didn’t understand why others seemed to flock here. “I just ask because… you may want to consider moving again.”

“Of course,” Alcher agreed with a nod, “there is loss without death. That is the only universal truth of being alive, isn’t it? That death will eventually come.” Then again, there were undead species and others that could live forever. Natural death was not something they experienced in their lives, though if one were being picky, it was. Alcher wondered if Regan was the picky sort, and decided that, if she was collecting mason jars and liked to talk about death, she must’ve been. That was okay, meticulous people had their merits. And the way Regan spoke about death, it meant something to her. Perhaps it had something to do with what she was, though Alcher wouldn’t hazard a guess. She didn’t altogether care to, but she also knew any answer she gave wouldn’t be right. She didn’t know enough about fae or other supernatural species to do that any justice. Perhaps she’d ask someone else. Perhaps Leah would know.

Alcher tilted her head curiously as Regan spoke again. For someone so nervous, she sure did like to talk a lot. Alcher didn’t mind. She had always been better at listening rather than talking, a quality her father reminded her was necessary for leading. When she did talk, her words were carefully chosen and concise-- a leader could not afford to have their words twisted or misinterpreted. She nodded slowly. “What is that English saying? Curiosity kills cats?” she shrugged. “I never liked it much. I know...enough. To know that this place is far from normal,” she said, tapping the side of her tea cup with her fingers. “It’s part of why I was drawn here. And while I might end up moving again, I think I’ll stay for a while.” She picked up her cup, ready to take a sip, before pausing. “I think I like it here.” Took a long sip of the hot liquid before setting it back on the table and looking across to Regan. “Why did you stay here? If I were to guess I’d say it’s that curiosity of yours, isn’t it?”

Ada liked it here? Of course she liked it here. Regan was starting to believe she and Kaden were the only two people who willing to readily acknowledge that this town was… something awful. “Not in this town,” she said, looking up at Ada, “in this town, cats are killed by dogs in black spandex and mime masks that wander around alleyways. Speaking of, you should stay away from those mime restaurants.” Regan shivered. If she never had to go back there, it would be too soon. She downed the rest of her coffee, the warmth easing her nerves slightly. Why did she stay here? Her job, yes. And Kaden. But even though she couldn’t work in the medical examiner system elsewhere in the state, she could always cross the border, move somewhere else entirely. And Kaden would go with her, surely, right? They should probably discuss that matter. “It was curiosity at first. Now it’s my job, and-- well, I have people who I care about here. Maybe someday soon we’ll move, though. I mean, I. I’ll move.” She couldn’t exactly speak for Kaden, though she knew what she hoped.

It was strange, though, the way Ada had phrased her fondness for the town. What did she mean, drawn here? Was she the type of person who liked the woowoo that Amity Road had to offer? Ada didn’t seem the type, but Regan had been mistaken before. “The town’s strangeness and… quirks… may seem almost charming or intriguing at first, but I can pr-- guarantee you, they’re not a good thing.” Regan frowned, wishing she had more coffee remaining in her cup. It was feather light in her hand, but she swished it around a little anyways, just to be sure. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a wet blanket.” Though she was certainly used to being perceived that way. “I just don’t want to see you on the autopsy table, okay? I don’t meet a lot of people like you. Or meet a lot of people at all. And I’d like for you to live out your natural lifespan.” She offered Ada a tentative smile, and gently rose from the table. “Speaking of, though, I have to return to the morgue. We’ve had a high volume lately -- well, higher than normal -- and I don’t trust Dr. Rickers not to shed beard hairs all over the new decedents coming through intake today. But maybe sometime you… I don’t allow civilians to watch autopsies outside of being with an educational institution, or aspirations of becoming a doctor, but if you want to come by the morgue someday, I could give you a tour.” Regan lifted the bag of mason jars; they clinked together at the movement. “It’s the least I can offer for an equally curious friend.”

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daphneryu · 5 years ago

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VESTA TASK #001 ! GET TO KNOW DAPHNE RYU

GENERAL STATS !

-- BASIC INFO

NAME: daphne ryu PRONUNCIATION: daf-nee ree-yoo NICKNAME(S): daph AGE: 26 DATE AND PLACE OF BIRTH: march 25, 1994; langley, vancouver, BC ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: aries GENDER: cis female PRONOUNS: she/her NATIONALITY: canadian-american ETHNICITY: korean OCCUPATION: veterinary assistant EDUCATION: completed a 2-year vet tech course RELIGIOUS BELIEFS: atheist

-- PHYSICAL

HEIGHT: 5'3" WEIGHT: 130 lbs BODY TYPE: athletic, fit HAIR: dark brown EYES: brown CLOTHING PREFERENCES: mostly anything comfortable. she especially likes wearing button ups, crop tops, and sweat pants. DEFINING FEATURES: double jointed elbows, eye smile VOICE TONE: deep and even, though it goes higher if she talks about something she's passionate about BLOOD TYPE: O- ALLERGIES: penicillin, mushrooms

-- ROMANCE

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: homosexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: homoromantic DO THEY HAVE A TYPE?: daphne loves and appreciates all women, though she has a soft spot for cute, sweet women and those that have more compassion for animals. PET PEEVES: excessive pushiness, being scolded, being made fun of for feeling strongly about something, those that don't know how to relax.

-- PERSONALITY

LIKES: animals, video games, alone time, swimming, poker, praise for her knowledge and effort, the serotonin burst of blowing all her paycheck shopping, cuddling. DISLIKES: sugar, trying to pay attention to an entire movie, sleeping, loud noises, cooking. AMBIVERT, INTROVERT, EXTROVERT?: ambivert

-- FAMILY

SIBLINGS: felix ryu (11), daisy ryu (15) BIRTH ORDER: oldest PARENTS: molly ryu (mother), henry fedorov (step father); sang kyung won (biological father) CHILDREN: only gus, her black cat DO THEY WANT KIDS?: she has no plans to even have a relationship serious enough for kids

-- SKILLS

SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S): english, some french TALENTS: gaming, spending money frivolously, puzzle solving, listening, pinball, sewing, self defense. HIDDEN TALENT: sleight of hand—her card magic trick game is strong. WORST SKILLS: being serious, cooking, not getting attached to an animal in two seconds, asking for help.

A DEEPER LOOK !

WHAT IS THEIR RELATIONSHIP WITH THEIR FAMILY LIKE?:

Daphne isn't particularly close with any of her family members and the reason for that is solely on her shoulders. The age difference between herself and her two younger siblings made her feel disconnected from them along with feeling responsible for them, even if her mother did her best to prevent that from happening. She appreciates her step father for making her mother happy and while he was never overwhelming in his efforts to form a relationship with her, Daphne froze him out once she moved alongside her mother. She talks to both of them every so often on the phone to make sure they get a basic idea of how she's doing but her bond with them is only skin deep, preferring to keep them at a distance.

DESCRIBE THEIR PERSONALITY:

For as much as Daphne tries to avoid emotions, she has a hard time not feeling the bad ones. If something makes her angry or upsets her, she wears it on her sleeve until she's gotten over it—and depending on the culprit and the offense, her pettiness means she can hold onto something for a long, long time. As far as she's concerned, there aren't really any redeeming qualities about her personality, frequently overlooking her typically kind and selfless nature when it comes to people she cares about. With no interest in talking about herself, she tends to hyperfocus on other people's problems and trying to help them fix them, or at the very least talk about them. Half of the time, Daphne can come across as overbearing but it comes from a good place. If anybody wrongs someone she loves, she's prone to hold that grudge far more stubbornly than anybody wronging Daphne herself.

In general, she's easy to get along with and finds it just as easy to talk to other people on a surface level. Her charm means she has an army of acquaintances but her flakiness means she has few close friends, something she still hasn't figured out if she likes or not. Daphne craves her fair share of intimacy, enough to go on random dates and bask in that brief attention from a temporary person, but it's easy for her to stop wanting that once she deems that someone's gotten too close to her. As much as she loves being in other people's worlds, it's difficult to stay in hers.

ARE THEY HAPPY WHERE THEY ARE IN LIFE:

Because there's so few times she lets herself think of the future and what she's going to want a year from now let alone five years, Daphne's content with where she is right now. If she could go back and do things differently, she would have talked her younger self out of just up and leaving with a girlfriend when they clearly weren't ready to live with each other and she never would have moved. However, with the way that everything went, Daphne can recognize that she came out of it on top and she's all the better for it.

WHAT IS THEIR DREAM:

Daphne just wants to help animals, no matter what form that comes in. In a perfect world, she would be able to foster all kinds of animals and help give them a better life but in her little apartment, that's not going to happen. Realistically, her biggest dream is to just give her cat and all the animals that pass through her care at work, however brief, a better quality of life no matter how small.

#vestatask #whew!!!!

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signhub24 · 8 months ago

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Channel Letters: Surrey's Illuminated Business Solution with Sign Hub

In Surrey, British Columbia, where the city pulses with activity, businesses strive to make their mark. Signage plays a crucial role, and among the options available, channel letters reign supreme. These illuminated signs have become a symbol of success for Surrey's businesses, offering visibility, customization, durability, versatility, and ease of use. With Sign Hub’s support, navigating the signage landscape becomes smoother. Let's explore why channel letters are the preferred choice for illuminated signage in Surrey.

1. Visibility That Grabs Attention

In Surrey's bustling environment, standing out is a challenge. Channel letters, with their bold presence and illuminated design, catch the eye and guide customers to businesses, both day and night. Whether positioned on storefronts, buildings, or poles, these signs ensure that businesses remain visible and attract foot traffic.

2. Customization Reflecting Your Brand

One of the key advantages of channel letters is their ability to be customized to match the unique identity of each business. With Sign Hub's assistance, designing and ordering signage becomes a breeze. Businesses can choose from a wide range of fonts, colors, and styles to ensure that their channel letters accurately reflect the essence of their brand. Whether aiming for a sleek, modern look or a classic, timeless feel, channel letters can be tailored to suit any aesthetic.

3. Durability for Longevity

Built to withstand Surrey's diverse weather conditions, channel letters are constructed from top-quality materials such as aluminium, acrylic, and LED lighting. This ensures that they remain resilient against rust, corrosion, and fading over time. Channel letters are designed to withstand the rigors of outdoor use, making them a reliable investment for businesses looking for long-term signage solutions.

4. Versatility for Any Location

Whether situated in Surrey's bustling city center or its quieter neighbourhoods, channel letters adapt effortlessly to any environment. Available in front-lit and back-lit options, they complement various architectural styles and settings, drawing customers regardless of location. Additionally, channel letters can be easily mounted on buildings, storefronts, poles, or monuments, offering flexibility in placement and ensuring maximum visibility.

5. Ease of Use with Sign Hub

Our innovative platform streamlines the process of designing, ordering, and installing channel letters. With user-friendly tools and a seamless interface, businesses can easily create customized signage that meets their specific requirements. We also offer support and guidance throughout the entire process, ensuring a hassle-free experience from start to finish.

Conclusion: Lighting the Path to Success

In Surrey's competitive business landscape, effective signage is essential for standing out and attracting customers. Channel letters, supported by Sign Hub, offer the perfect combination of visibility, customization, durability, versatility, and ease of use. Whether a boutique, restaurant, or office, businesses in Surrey can shine bright and leave a lasting impression with channel letters. With these illuminated signs, Surrey's businesses illuminate their success and carve their place in the cityscape.

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creepingsharia · 5 years ago

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California: 4 Afghan Refugees Arrested in Massive Int’l Stolen Cellphone Ring

Three of the four Muslims arrested were granted U.S. citizenship after serving as translators for the U.S. Army in Afghanistan.

h/t FraudsCrooksCriminals

From an undercover car in a nondescript Hayward strip mall, detectives snapped photos as Isaiah Langley and D'anthony Larks walk into a cellphone store called Torspin Wireless with a bag police believed was stuffed with brand new iPhones.

A few minutes later, photos and video shot by detectives captured the men strolling casually out of the shop towards a black Audi SUV. The bag appeared empty, and they were openly carrying large bricks of cash. It was June 7, three days before Langley would sign a professional football contract with the Oakland Raiders.

Investigators from at least eight different Northern California law enforcement agencies were zeroing in on a crew police say were tied to more than 60 strong-arm robberies and grand thefts – from the Bay Area to Sacramento – targeting delivery drivers carrying shipments of brand new cellphones. Police tracked the crew for three more months, arresting Langley, Larks, and 10 others in August.

But as the Oakland Police Department and Alameda County District Attorney’s Office led the investigation into the suspected robbery crew, detectives from the Fremont Police Department took an interest in Torspin Wireless, the Hayward store police believed was just a front for a major fencing operation trafficking in stolen electronics.

Crime is down across the board in Fremont, according to police, except in one category: auto burglaries. Detectives with the department say car break-ins have reached epidemic levels, rising sharply over the past two years. So, detectives shifted tactics – trying to disrupt the demand for stolen property by focusing their efforts on the fences, not the thieves.

“What we were looking to do is drive down auto burglaries,” said Lt. Mike Tegner, who heads the department’s Investigative Unit. “It’s a problem in the Bay Area, and we know what was driving crime was these fences.”

Detectives began a months-long surveillance operation on the shop – watching time-after-time as customers walked into Torspin carrying boxes or bags and walking out with cash. Detectives would come to believe they'd found the Bay Area's largest fencing operation for stolen electronics – and the starting point of an international pipeline of stolen phones spanning at least four continents.

“Out of all the hours of surveillance we had done, I never saw one customer just go in there and buy something that a normal store would sell,” said Fremont Police Detective Rick Zemlok. “It was always people bringing in product and leaving with money.”

Zemlok said the man calling the shots for the operation was one of the store’s three owners, Muhibullah Nuristani. The store’s other owners – Mohammad Mustafa and Abdul Janah – also took part in the suspected fencing ring, as well as Mujibullah Nuristani, a relative of Muhibullah, according to Zemlok. All but Mustafa had been granted citizenship in the United States after serving as translators for the U.S. Army during the war in Afghanistan, according to police and attorneys for the men.

Detectives watched as Torspin purchased anywhere from 25 to 100 phones a day, Zemlok said. One informant told detectives Torspin was the Bay Area’s “chop shop” for electronics, and the store's owners knew they were buying stolen phones, according to court records. Torspin even circulated an electronic Google document for its “preferred sellers,” listing exactly which phones the store wanted to purchase and how much they were willing to pay, Zemlok said.

“They were paying a premium for these products, these iPhones and laptops, so the people that are stealing them from the backs of trucks and from peoples’ vehicles know that they can get a lot of money for them,” Zemlok said. “That’s why they’re committing these crimes at such a high rate.”

Police say they soon connected Torspin’s owners to other wireless stores, one in San Francisco called Teckspeen Wireless and another in El Cajon called MJ Wireless, where Muhibullah and Mujibullah Nuristani were based.

“About once a week they would travel down south and sell those products in bulk amounts,” Zemlok said. “We did multiple surveillance trips where we would follow them down to the LA area, down to El Cajon, and watch them sell those boxes of products to different people.”

...the vast majority of phones detectives sold to Torspin and MJ Wireless ended up overseas. Only two out of the 150 phones undercover detectives sold were activated in the United States, Zemlok said. The others were activated all over the globe, in Mexico, China, Russia, Vietnam, Singapore, Dubai, and Australia, among other countries.

...

And during the raid, police say they found a strange and unexpected new thread to pull on: an iPad running an encrypted messenger app.

“There was someone watching the live camera feed of us in the shop,” Zemlok said. “Going through the messages on that iPad, there was a lot of communication from somebody that was basically checking them on all the deals they did.”

Zemlok said detectives believe the person on the other end of the encrypted messenger app was located in Turkey.

Following the raid, Janah, Mustafa, and both Muhibullah and Mujibullah Nuristani were arrested and charged with felony crimes of receiving stolen property. Other employees at the store were detained, but so far have not been charged with a crime.

For now, the Turkey connection is a mystery detectives are unsure they’ll ever solve. Tegner and Zemlok say they continue to go through the evidence seized in the raid, which could potentially lead to new charges against the suspects.

They hope the raid will disrupt the demand for stolen phones in the Bay Area --at least for now. They expect other fences will soon fill the void, but said they’re already working new leads uncovered during this investigation.

“We’re going to continue to do this,” Tegner said. “In fact, we’re moving forward on other operations as we speak.”

#Legal #Immigration #Fraud #Finance #Islam #Sharia #Jihad #Muslim #News #Politics #Travel #Technology

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i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 6 years ago

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Be More Chill Senior Year, Little School of Horrors

"-and remember to look both ways before crossing the sidewalk as you're leaving school. We do not need a repeat of last year's bus incident. In other news, rehearsal for the school play starts tonight in Langley Auditorium..."

'You're not actually going to go are you?'

"I already signed up. Besides everyone else is going to be there so it won't be so awkward."

'Uh huh, because no one takes sides after you and your girlfriend of, how many months was it? Five? Break up.'

"Go away," Jeremy muttered to himself, trying to block out the SQUIP when the last bell of the day loudly rang. Jeremy got up to leave but we surprised by a hand on his shoulder.

"Jeremy? Can we talk?"

"Oh, ugh, yeah Mr. Vizzini. What's up?" The room was now empty save the teen and the English teacher.

"I know it's none of my business but...I've been worried about you lately." "It's the first day of school."

"You know what I mean Mr. Heere," the man sat down at his desk beckoning Jeremy to sit across from him. Jeremy did so, nervously shifting as he glanced at the clock. "Ever since last year, you've been acting differently."

"That's a bad thing?"

"You just seem to be more anxious and jumpy. If there's anything you want to talk about, I'm always right here."

"That it?"

"Well yes but-" Jeremy was already out the door before the man could finish his sentence.

'Smooth moves, totally kept your cool.'

"I don't want to talk about it."

'You ever stop to think that maybe talking about would make you feel better.'

"With who?"

'A therapist. Your dad. Your friends....Michael?' The SQUIP suggested but Jeremy shrugged it off as he entered the auditorium. The last thing Jeremy wanted to do easy bother anyone else with his problems.

Approaching the front rows of the auditorium Jeremy was surprised to see so many new students already there excitedly talking about the production. Everyone thought the SQUIP thing was a part of the show and much to the school's and Mr. Reyes' delight they raised a record amount of ticket allowing the drama department to have a big enough budget to actually advertise itself this year.

"Yo Jeremy, my dude!" The teen looked back to see Jake wheeling himself into the auditorium. "Glad to see you here bruh! Rich and I had a very if you'd actually show up. Looks like I'm going to Burger King."

"Hey Jake...why...are you coming back?" Jeremy tried to word the question to not offend Jake. "Uh, cause drama club was hella fun and ask my friends are here?" "But you're, I mean that-it's not like I....Jesus..." "Dude, I know I'm in a wheelchair."

"That's not what I was-"

"Jeremy, you haven't even been looking at me the whole time."

"Shit. I'm sorry-"

"It's okay. I'm used to it. Sides I just learned how to do a wheelie in this thing! Wanna see?"

"Maybe later." Jake shrugged before seeing Rich and moving to sit next to him. Jeremy sat in the very back of the audience trying to shrink in on himself.

'I don't think that could've been more awkward if you tried.'

"I know." Jeremy groaned. He used to talk to Jake all the time, why did he have to be so weird about it now?

'Maybe it's the fact you permanently crippled him.'

"I didn't do anything. You made him stand up on broken legs."

'For your benefit. You really think anyone wants to date him now?' Jeremy was about to retort when someone sat next to him making the teen jump.

"Michael?" "Hey Jeremy," Michael took a sip of his Pepsi Light as he took his headphones off.

"What are you doing here? I thought you said you hated theatre."

"Oh I do. With a passion. But...someone convinced me to join. Besides, if I'm lucky I'll get to work on lighting."

"Don't like being on stage?"

"You've never been forced to go to your moms acting troupe on Friday nights and act out the script of Fiddler on the Roof over and over again, have you?"

"I can honestly say, no." Jeremy laughed when a loud mic blare made everyone in the room wince. Looking up on stage the students saw the culprit in their drama teacher holding a portable mic.

"Hello, do I have everyone's attention?" No answer. "Alright! Welcome students of Middleborough Highschool! I'm seeing a lot of promising new faces this year! Which is good because almost all of our cast graduated last year or transferred schools after the play." There were some awkward laughs but the man was dead serious. Post-SQUIPcident a lot of people were left traumatized and never wanted to come back. Jeremy couldn't blame them. "And after the success of last year's play we have happily used the budget to improve your theatre experience-"

"And buy more hot pockets," a voice that sounded an awful lot like Rich's called out.

"THE SCHOOL COULDN'T PROVE ANYTHING-I mean, no. I can assure you none of the money was used to buy my food. No! What I mean is this year, we have money to buy rights to a musical!" Michael's groans were covered by the high pitched squeals coming from Christine. "And buy just any musical-"

"Please, anything but Fiddler on the Roof."

"But a classic!" Mr. Reyes brought out a tiny pot with a little Venus flytrap in it. "Can anyone guess?" Christine's hand shot up and the teacher looked around. "Anyone else? You, Trevor!" Mr. Reyes pointed to one of the freshmen in front.

"Ugh, The Music Man?"

"No...why would you even think...it's Little Shop of Horrors!!"

"...well that's definitely not Fiddler on the Roof."

#be more chill #jeremy heere #mr. heere #michael mell #michael's moms #boyfriend fiends #later #bmc #the squip #the drama squad #the squip squad #christine canigula #jake dillinger #rich goranski #senior year #mr reyes #yes #that is a mean girls reference

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the-hindu-times · 5 years ago

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May, June, July 2019 reviews

photo: taken on Nic Bennett’s phone On Wed 1st May, I once again set off to see Idlewild. This time at the Cambridge Junction with support from Hamish Hawk. Realising I had met him before, in his record shop in Edinbrugh, his onstage presence had more in common with Morrissey than someone in retail. Whilst Pink Floyd’s Nick Mason played the larger Corn Exchange, Hamish’s band made way for solo/acoustic number 'Catherine Opens a Window' - his answer to The Smiths' 'Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want' or 'Asleep' - as Hamish gave the occasional gaze over to the talkative bar area during this delicate section. Back catalogue and recent EP songs were performed, which were all new to this audience.

The next day was the beginning of three nights at Outside The Box at the Royal Oak New Malden: Russell Howard on Thursday, Milton Jones on Friday and Al Murray on Saturday. I left the later early to catch Richard Ashcroft at The Olympia but train delays meant that by the time I arrived, he was already on to his '90s nostalgic hit parade, having missed the minimal selection of newer material. We were back at Outside The Box at Langleys, Surbiton for Romesh Ranganathan, before another Al Murray show there.

photo: taken on Nic Bennett’s phone

Having previously seen Dean Friedman at Teddington Arts Centre (a large church near Kingston), a year or so ago, he's continued to be a frequent visitor from over the pond; selling out Pizza Expresses and country pubs. This time, he's deservedly in prestigious theatre, The Bloomsbury, close to central London but sadly only a few are in attendance. It's a similar set to before; covering songs from all of his albums on piano and guitar. Once again, he takes moments to advertise future gigs and what merch he has for sale - but a show just focusing on his wonderful songbook would have been much more credible. He always seems to be looking towards the future whilst his songs tell his past.

photo: taken on Nic Bennett’s phone

On the Tuesday, I was back in Cambridge - this time for the Manic Street Preachers at the Corn Exchange; a venue we were due to return to last month the cancelled Ryan Adams tour. Standing can get uncomfortably crowded in there, and the reserved seating on the balcony gets worse the closer to the front, due to the perspex safety screen. There were a few chairs put out just under the balcony/above the standing, which isn't a bad spot though. Marking 19 years and 8 months since the release of 'This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours', the adverts suggested that they would be playing the album in order, in its entirety - to which they did neither. Not the only marketing con to help make a fast buck, as it looked like they had bought all the unofficial £5 t shirts from outside gigs in 1998, and were now selling them for £30. The extra money was spent on more live session musicians for the tour, with the highlights being the two songs from latest LP ‘Resistance Is Futile’.

photo: taken on Nic Bennett’s phone

The following evening, From The Jam, were at Epsom Playhouse. The small, all seated theatre saw original The Jam member, Bruce Foxton, battle through the flu to perform acoustic renditions of hits, album tracks and b-sides with Russell Hastings having permanently taken Paul Weller's place, whilst he continues to evolve as a successful solo artist. Support act, Nine Below Zero re-emerge to join in on a couple of numbers for an audience of one type and age bracket.

Monday afternoon's set from James Walsh at the Groucho Club saw Sam Fender and band turn up with journalist, Gordan Smart, and Josh McClorey from The Strypes, whom had to turn down the opportunity to be Weller's new guitarist whilst Steve Cradock's out with The Specials. The next day saw Brushy One String's first ever London show at The Blues Kitchen in Camden. With just one A (5th) string on his acoustic guitar, Jamacain musician, Andrew Chin, performed his Youtube hit 'Chicken in the Corn', along with other originals and Reggae classics. On Thursday, Lights was over from Canada but we decided to see Mull Historical Society’s stripped back set at Bush Hall on a night where the songs without Bernard Butler on guitar sounded best. After All Points East festival on the last Friday of the month, where Bring Me The Horizon topped the bill, we were at the Fighting Cocks, Kingtson for Outside The Box with Nick Helme, before we returned to the same club at Langleys Surbiton (Harry Hill, Matt Forde, Kerry Godliman), West Molesey Barn Theatre (Andy Parsons), Royal Oak, New Malden (Harry Hill [again], followed by just making Andy Parsons [again], after coming back from a live session on Bournemouth Radio, the next night]).

Paul Weller brought his ever changing set list to Bedgebury Pinetum forest before we witnessed David Blaine wow Hammersmith Apollo, the night before we attended Metallica at Twickenham stadium. The following evening saw Rhys James headline the New Malden Sports Ground club before I was back at Outside The Box in Kingston for Romesh Ranganathan, Al Lubel and Adam Bloom.

I wasn’t that impressed with my first trip to Exeter but Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds were mostly on top form at Powderham Castle. I would have liked The Charlatans’ ‘90s’ greatest hits support set to have have been more varied and up to date but they were being pleasing the majority.

photo: taken on Nic Bennett’s phone

After Josh Widdicombe at Outside The Box in Surbiton at Langleys on the first day of July, I was at another Paul Weller show on Sunday, in Greenwich. Another Outside The Box the following evening, in Kingston, saw Angelos Epithemiou top the bill before Wednesday night’s Cosmo Sheldrake gig at the Oval Space was shut down early due to curfew laws – something he won’t have as much of a problem with on his European tour. Bob Dylan and Neil Young at Hyde Park on the Friday was followed by a daytime trip to Dartford’s free festival for The Farm and The Lightning Seeds.

The next day we were at On Blackheath, where Morcheeba had an afternoon slot. The festival seemed much smaller than previous years and the signs for what you could and couldn’t bring in were different to what the security would snatch from you so, we didn’t stick around.

On Tuesday, Doves played a nostalgic set at Sommerset House before The Good, The Bad & The Queen hosted a much better evening of new music. Harry Enfield, Miles Kane and Jeff Wootton were amongst the smaller crowd, to the night before, as Damon Albarn’s group engaged and impressed. After meeting Tom Speight on the train home, we went along to his short set, opening for The Lighthouse Family at a Banquet Records night, before a seaside trip back to Folkestone for Graham Nash at the Leas Cliff Hall. I’m still not sure Michael Barakan (Shane Fontayne) works on guitar for him, although I did like some of his country style, and the show worked much better with the addition of James Raymond on keys.

Nic Bennett

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