#also my colleague says she sends her hours by the 20th and I should try do the same

[gaytobymeres]

I know I’m overthinking which makes me feel even worse

[apples-r-rubbish]

Institute (13th Doctor x reader) Part 5

Summary: You’re on the run, no doctor, no time.  Word Count: 2.4k AN: I’m going to be taking a lil break after the next chapter, just as I’m moving and I need time to adjust sorry -L x Warnings: none i think  Tags: @startrekkingaroundasgard @penguinwithitsarseonfire​

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4) (PART 6) (PART 7) (PART 8) MASTERLIST

Panic. Screaming. Wind. Noise. Fear. Tense breathing. More screaming. More panic.

“Hold on!” Graham shouted over the monstrous amount of noise. Ryan found a panel and somehow managed to fly the plane on his phone. You were too shaken to understand. O. The plane was finally level. The Master.  You were shaking. Nothing really sunk in. You blinked and you were helped off the plane by the worried trio. You snuck past the guards as Barton spoke to someone official looking. You were in Essex according to Ryan, and now that you were off the plane things had finally begun to fall into place within your mind. You were being stared at by everyone. 

“It’s hard not to stand out, when we look like this,” Ryan groaned frustrated at the suit

“We’ve just been on a night out and we’re going home, that’s all,” Yaz reassured a soothing voice trying to calm you all down. Your phone went off, as did the others. Cautiously you answered it. Barton. “Hello, friends. What, did you think I wouldn't be able to track you? We have your numbers, e-mails, GPS. I even know how many more stamps you need for a free coffee. So close, Ryan. Or should I say Logan? Look up.” You did as he said. On a screen above you all your faces were displayed, claiming you were dangerous. More cursing. “Your passports have been revoked, bank accounts frozen,” Barton continued “We have a record of everyone you know - friends, family, colleagues, everyone you ever followed on social media. Of course, we have cameras everywhere, and now you're wanted for hijacking. Go off the grid see how long you’ll last,” 

In a panic, Ryan smashed his phone, Yaz attempted to call her mum and Graham froze. “Oh and Yazmin is attempting to call her mum, how sweet,” He spat sarcastically. Yaz had rambled into the phone briefly for a second before Ryan grabbed the phone and stomped on it, he did the same with your phone and Graham’s. Then you ran. 

You had finally settled on a building estate, hours late. Bones aching, out of breath and tired.

“No CCTV we should be safe for now,” Graham said, clearly weary from the day. You filled into a half built house. You took a seat on a sort of wall as did the others

“How do we know we can trust you?” Ryan asked suddenly “We don’t know you. The Doctor trusted O, and he betrayed us, how do we know you won’t?”

“You don’t.” You replied shortly “I’m an outsider. You’ve seen me what? Twice before today? Three times because one of them hasn’t happened to me yet. You don’t know you can trust me. But you have to. If I wanted to turn on you, if I had malicious intent I would have ran off with the master, but I didn’t.”

“Who are you really? O said you were a missing person,” Yaz asked inner police woman jumping forward

“I am. Technically. I was recruited by people I know very little about to do a job, told me it was important so I took the role. Wiped me from my old life, gave me a new one,” “How come the Doctor didn’t recognise that person? Surely you would recognise someone like that?”

“Their species, they have a way of cheating death, burn up every cell in their body, change their face and who they are. The Doctor used to be a man, we have 12 other faces on file. The master also can do that, same species same thing,” 

“Who was he?”

“Well, do you remember Harold Saxon? That used to be him,”

“What- I voted for him!” Graham exclaimed

You examined the looks on their faces, “You want to know about my future don’t you, you want to put the pieces together, but she’s said you can’t tell me. One question won’t kill me,”

“You mentioned you were going to die on another planet? How would you know something like that?” Yaz wondered

“This, this interaction. Time isn’t linear. It’s more a big lump, as time travellers, we jump in and out at various points, things aren’t linear things can be changed and rewritten. Surely she told you that?”

“She doesn’t exactly tell us a lot. Who are you to her really?”

“I’m no one important, I think, I don’t know. I get pieces in passing. A bit like a conversation you aren’t a part of yet, just occasional whispers. Her late wife visited me once, and told me to keep track of everything. Keep journals and notes, telling me it would help make things easier, clearer. She was in a similar position, they met when she died and they kept meeting, bumping into each other, in the wrong order, fell in love, nearly destroyed the universe,”  You explained “The doctor trusts me and I trust the doctor. Good enough for me. Also we went on a date,”

“Since we’re admitting things, I stole some of the gadgets from MI6, I’m wearing the laser shoes. Before you ask, no I didn’t read the instructions,” Graham laughed

“I took the rocket cufflinks too,” Ryan smiled

“You utter doughnuts, all of you. But there’s no one I’d rather be on the run with,” Graham turned to you “Even you, you seem to know a lot and I trust you. You’re on the same wavelength as the Doctor and that’s good enough for me.”

“Did you hear that?” There was a noise, and light. Kasaavin. You stepped out the building one by one. 

“The shoe, use the shoe,” Ryan urged

“What?”

“Just stomp or something!” Graham did. A bolt hit a nearby streetlight.

“Your aim is terrible,”

“Graham, just dance.” He did and a few bolts hit the figures. You grabbed the others hands and ran.

The sun was coming up, you hadn’t slept for about 36 hours and whilst Yaz made a phone call, you and Ryan leant against each other in a desperate attempt to stay awake. She hung up suddenly as a car pulled up. Men stepped out, threatening you. Graham came up behind them and waved his laser shoe dramatically

“-and don’t make me do the soft-shoe shuffle!” He stated over dramatically, as you got into the car. You had decided to drive

“Are you sure you’re going to be safe? Driving, I mean, 36 hours is a lot-” Yaz began cautiously

“I’ll be fine. I once stayed a awake for a week on some planet so I could do my job, and the days were 25 hours, this is nothing,” You joked

“Can we go to the institute? Surely they’ll keep us safe?” 

“No, they won’t. Anything linked to present day criminal activity immediately gets you dropped. We deal with time, you so much as breathe wrong you’re dropped,” You explained, “We have to follow their GPS.” You sped off

The hanger was cold and empty. There was a single figure on a chair along with a stand and a screen, you rushed to it. 

“Is she still?” Ryan asked, not wanting to say the word. You checked for a pulse, she was cold. You shook your head, “No she isn’t. She hasn’t been for a while, a few hours, at most, I think.”  Barton appeared on the screen.

“Well done overpowering my people. But did you really think they wouldn't tell me? I have a significant announcement to make, and you, my friends, are two steps behind. As usual,” He mocked

“So what are you? Part alien or something?” Graham asked

“You really don't understand who I am. I build things. I test them. So I let them test a tiny part of me. And now it's time for the global roll-out. I'm proof of concept,”

“As the head of the Bad Wolf institute, I have to ask, what are you testing? Why don’t you stop with the theatrics and murder? Make my job the tiniest bit easier,” You asked, temper flaring

“Look after my mum.” The call ended. You went to hit the screen and decided against instead choosing to make a loud noise. 

“He killed his own mum,” Yaz breathed

“And abandoned her, in a hanger, to rot,” You stated, formal tone back. The screen came on once again, this time to an image of Barton giving a talk. 

“-We told you, of course your lives are private, of course your data's safe. And you believed us. You kept clicking Agree. And now, we can do anything. I can send a text to every device on this planet.”

“Something doesn’t make sense, I’m missing something, I’m being stupid. God why does lack of sleep does this,” You grumbled. A message flashed up on the screen. Humanity is over, you have three minutes to prepare. The statue started spinning. 

“Funny, right? Except, not a joke. We are way past peak human. We've created systems that are smarter and can run more efficiently than we do. So what's our purpose? We must be useful for something. Well, the data tells us we are. We can repurpose. Well, you all can. You know the most efficient type of hard drives on Planet Earth? Humans. Human DNA can store so much data. We're the perfect storage system, which means there are over seven billion potentially incredibly useful hard drives on this planet. All that's needed is to reformat the whole of humanity. Luckily, there's an app for that.” Barton chuckled, tone sinister.

The room was filled with light. The Kasaavin. The hangar door swung open. The master. 

“Move away. Now! I've just had the most infuriating seventy seven years of my life. Have you any idea how hard it is to live through the 20th century? The places I've escaped from. Still, just in time to watch you all pay.” He grumbled, he looked aggressive like a wolf ready to attack. 

“What is it? What the hell is that thing?” You asked, barely giving the others time to react

“Back with us I see? Aw shock was good look on you, shame the Doctor won’t get to see more of it,” He snarled “ If you must know, dear, it converts and transmits. We're transmitting Kasaavin energy around the world all at once into every device, hitting every human being and erasing all their DNA simultaneously. And it’s beautiful.” The energy grabbed Yaz, she couldn’t let go, you tried to pull her off, it wouldn’t move, she couldn’t budge.

“No use. It’ll take her, then you then you, and finally Miss Institute herself, a shame.” The machine stopped suddenly, the figures vanished.

“You were saying?” You replied smugly 

“Sorry. I’ll admit I was close,” The doctor. Relief washed over you. She entered the hangar followed by two other women.

“Two can play at embedding things in history. I knew the Silver Lady was important, and that you built it for a reason, but I couldn't work out why. So I traced its movements through history. And when I saw that Barton now owned it, we stopped by his office. Middle of last year, using your Tardis, I built a fail-safe into that machine. Planted a virus. If it ever detected the massing of a Kasaavin army within its systems - total shutdown,” She explained. The room glowed again, circling everyone. 

“Well Doctor, looks like you’re going to have to explain everything to them,”

“Look, I’ve rigged the Silver lady to send you back your own dimension. And that deal he made with you?” She pulled out her sonic and played a audio clip

‘Barton and these creatures do the dirty work, and once they're done, I get rid of them, having destroyed your precious human race in the process. Win-win-win.’

“Oh,” Was all the Master could manage to say

“Yes that’s your name, don’t wear it out,” She replied before the light increased. And with that the room was empty again, “Everyone alright? Everyone safe?” A chorus of yes sounded of from the group

“Miss me?” She asked a small but beautiful smile on her face, wrapping her arm around you

“Always,” You replied pressing a small kiss to her lip

“I hate to break up a sweet moment but I have questions. Who are they? And are we being replaced?” Graham asked

“Oh these are Noor and Ada, I’m dropping them off back in their timeline, like I could ever replace any of you.”

They were dropped off back in their respective times.

“So where to now?” The doctor asked, flipping a few switches

“The institute for me, I’m afraid,” You cringed, desperately wanting to stay

“What?” She suddenly looked up staring deep into your eyes, clearly hurt.

“I have to warm them, the Master is out there, and we have to prepare. We’ve barely managed to fix everything after the issues in 2015. I do want to stay, I truly do, but it’s hard and I have to look after them,” You avoided her eyes

“It’s ok I get it. Since we’re synced I can say this, whenever we meet up synced or not we have to go on a date, because we don’t know when it’s going to happen so we might as well enjoy it,” She wandered over to where you were stood

“Like time girlfriends?” “Time girlfriends,” She nodded. You kissed her cheek, and she smiled into it, hugging you tightly. 

“Miss you already,” You joked taking steps out of the TARDIS and back into your office the day that you left.

“Are you ok? You’ve been a bit distant recently,” Yaz asked, breaking the Doctor from her thoughts. It had been a few months, since they’d seen you as a group.

“I’m fine,” She replied shortly

“You miss her don’t you?” The doctor ignored the question continuing to focus on the random buttons she was fiddling with. “Look, why don’t you take us to visit your home?”

“Can’t. Shouldn’t. You’ll ask too many questions. It’s boring. Why do you think I ran?” She explained, her usual answers combining into one, “but yes I miss her,”

[vicicicici-blog1]

Good Afternoon.

Ive recently been approached by Warren Industries' very own CEO Felicity Warren as a decryptor for some bizarre files

Its a large number of files, about fifty or so and she tells me she has more to send at a later date. She also requested I put these files up somewhere online though she also wants me to block out any names that are on this little list I've got here... yeah okay

Im not entirely sure why she wanted me specifically to decrypt this shit. Like... maybe ive got in hot water with the CSIS like a few times for some random bullshit, but I'm also pretty sure that theres plenty of dudes out there more skilled than I am who could decode these things in half the time for less pay. Maybe it's because I'm a chick. After all, I know about that freaky little club of hers. I know she's not the quirky millenial CEO that the media likes to paint her as

I mean its not like your average shmuck hacker could do this. seems the girl who made these documents has/had? a government background, and im taking a wild guess here at saying she had access to some pretty nifty tech, tech that she damn well knew how to use. i'm also pretty sure shes dead so good help that did her

At first I thought the joke was on her. It took me less than three hours to crack her stupid code on the oldest files in the bunch, which is what I've got below my dumb introductions

Then I found out every few files uses a completely different code

shit

At least I'm getting a big fat check for this

Enjoy, because I am not doing these all at once ___________________________________________ 20xx/06/04

These files are for my brother, plus anyone else he's working with, to use in case I ever get caught.

I've finally found out about Felicity Warren's secret club. Alex, your search is finally over! Well, at least once you get back from Spain in a few months.

If my brother isn't with you at the time for this reading: Hello, my name is Emma Spearhouse. My older brother, and once legal guardian, is Alex Spearhouse. As of this writing, he is an investigator for [NAME REDACTED],  a rather low-key organization built to keep an eye on strange happenings that are considered a risk to Canadian citizens. Apparently, it is considered to be a branch of the CSIS, but from what I could sneak a look from my brother's laptop, it seems to be self run.

That's why I've been looking for Felicity Warren's club, which I now know the name of - The Cheap Thrills Club. It sounds coy, but that makes some sense... there's always been a couple rumours, here and there, about a freaky girls-only club, that abducts men all over the country and kills them in cold blood. I always just assumed those were just some dopey anti-feminist conspiracy theories that get popular as creepy stories online, but I found out from my brother's reports - it's real. Maybe... apparently, every single lead that Alex and some of his colleagues have taken have resulted in dead ends, but the fact that it's a concern with [NAME REDACTED] is proof enough that it isn't just some self-adulating tall tale.

It's been bugging me nonstop since I read his report back around Christmas time. Alex was pretty pissed at me for reading his laptop (again), and told me not to get involved... even so, when I went back south for classes, I scoured all over the city for any leads to this strange club. I couldn't find anything at all, and then the school year ended, so I was forced to come back, and for the past month, I've been focusing on my summer job. Its funny like that - I stopped looking for clues, and then, the clue came to me.

It turns out that my friend from high school, [NAME REDACTED], is a member.

She just happened to be visiting the office that day, to pick up a new card for her dad. I took a break to chat with her after not seeing her for so long, and the topic just happened to come up! It was so weird... she was always kind of reserved, and always fainted at the sight of blood, but she got so excited when I claimed I was interested in joining.

The next meeting is in four days, and she's offered to take me, in order to get me to join the group. This is an opportunity I can't possibly pass up. From here on out, I'm going to record my actions in these files, both as evidence of this club's existence, and, as I said above, as a precaution, just in case something happens to me. You know, freaky cult stuff.

To Alex: I'm sorry that I'm digging through your old equipment, I need the hidden mic. ________________________________________________________ 20xx/06/08

I'm back from the meeting and it was

I can't do this right now I need to recompose my thoughts ________________________________________________________ 20xx/06/09

I spent hours trying to think of an intro to this entry... perhaps it would be best to state it outright. The Cheap Thrills Club is exactly like the rumours say. It's a murder cult. A boy died in front of my eyes.

When I first got to where [NAME REDACTED] told me to meet her, she was dressed in a casual clothes, and wearing a backpack. It kind of put me at ease, at first. Like, maybe if this was a real thing, it was actually just some sort of Girl Guide sister-hood thing, and the whole murder thing was just some sort of fabrication by crazy suspicious people.

She took me out to the highway, where there was a car, waiting to pick us up. It was a few other women, of varying ages, who I didn't really recognize. Well, maybe I did know them... they were wearing these weird cute animal masks, so I couldn't get a good look at them anyways, and they didn't speak. [NAME REDACTED] pulled out a mask, too. This green raccoon mask, one you could probably pick up at the dollar store. She noticed my staring at her mask, but instead of getting suspicious, she just smiled at me and told me;

"Don't worry, you're about to get yours."

Part of me wonders if I should have just jumped out of the car, right then and there. The doors were probably locked anyways. 

It was maybe a twenty minute drive, definitely out of town. The road got weirdly bumpy, too, like they'd driven off the road and into the forest. The windows were tinted over on both sides, and they eventually closed the opening between the front and back seat, so I was going in blind. For a moment, the car had stopped, like we'd reached a toll both, before the card drove for another minute and parked.

When I was let out of the car, I was surprised to find we'd parked inside of a small, shuttered up hangar, with a few other cars parked around, but completely void of life. Following their silent orders, I was brought to an elevator. [NAME REDACTED] seemed like she was getting excited, as she started jumping up an down like a kid at an amusement park.

The elevator went down, and it went down deep. Was this an old military base or something? Why the heck would something like this be in an industry town?

When we got out, I really wasn't expecting what I saw.

The entire area was aglow with lights, machines, and happy laughter. It reminded me of when some of my university friends took me to the casino for my 20th birthday, like an alternate, magical world, filled with fun and joy... but also the soul-sucking lightheaded-ness that overtook me, as if begging me to give up to this world. The fact that everyone there, about two dozen women, were wearing cute animal masks really didn't help matters either. One of them, wearing a purple bird mask and dressed like a fancy waitress, took my hand.

"You must be the new girl. Come this way, please."

I followed along, partially to get a closer look at things, and partially to get away from all this bluster and chaos. As we turned left, I noticed a small, arena-like pit, right in the middle of the room.

The next room, thankfully, wasn't as mind-numbing, but was almost just as eerie - though lit well, it was completely empty, with black walls, and a red tile floor, and two red doors to my left. I was asked, very dully, to stand in the middle of the room, where a small ring of writing was located.

Again, I did what I was told. Like some cheap parlour trick the ring lit up, blinking in different colours and arrows, before finally settling on one spot, a pinkish-red. The waitress told me to wait just a moment, and left, before coming back with a mask.

"Your mask has been ordained as the Red Weasel. Please put it on for our leader's greetings."

I almost panicked there. The mask choice felt way too on the nose, like it was chosen specifically because they knew I was here as a mole. It made me wonder, if I put it on, was I going to get full on attacked by a bunch of crazy women in animal masks?

The waitress would not take her eyes off of me until I put it on, so put it on I did. Thankfully, it wasn't too uncomfortable, and the eye holes didn't block any of my vision. I did feel silly. I wish I still did.

The waitress then carted out a large screen. On it, was the very woman who supposedly ran this club: Felicity Warren, wearing her famous white rabbit mascot head, and a stylish business suit, sitting on a golden chair with her legs crossed.

"Ahh, this is our new member!"

She sounded happy, but the mask made it hard to really tell.

"Welcome to the Cheap Thrills Club! You are now officially part of the Sisterhood!"

Those words are still ringing pretty vividly in my head. I guess it makes sense, she's definitely got a nice voice, and an endless pool of charisma to match. It's probably the reason why people can take her seriously in that bunny head.

I'm not sure if that was a recording or not, but immediately after that, the screen was rolled back to where it once came. When the waitress came back, she calmly led me out the door.

"I'll provide you with the Level 1 member benefits once you're ready to leave."

Everyone had gathered by the door when I came out, and started clapping and cheering. [NAME REDACTED] even came over and gave me congratulations. Before I could even say anything back, however, a voice came over the speaker.

"Ladies, we're glad to welcome our fifteen new members! One of you fifteen is incredibly lucky, too... Branch 07AB is presenting tonight's entertainment!!"

Everyone in the room started cheering loudly. Most obviously, 07AB is the branch I joined.

Now, please give it up for... [NAME REDACTED]

Everyone started cheering again and gathering towards the pit, as I could hear something being wheeled out. There was barely enough room for all of us, but as a approached, a few of them got out of the way. I'm guessing it was because I was a new member.

Looking down, I saw a large, muscular woman, maybe even over six feet tall, and confidently grinning, cracking her neck and knuckles. the wheeling noise, however, came from something else.

Two more of those bird-masked women had rolled in with another person, chained down to a table. When I got a better look at them, it was evident that it was a young boy, one who couldn't have been more than thirteen or so. He'd been gagged with a cloth that covered most of his face, but it was evident based on the look in his eyes, and the way he desperately tried to squirm out of his bindings, that he was not there by choice.

The large woman looked up to me, and yelled;

"Hey, new girl? Got any requests?"

I froze at that moment. I wasn't entirely sure what she meant by 'request.' I didn't want to know, really. I knew, if the rumours were true, then she was asking me to request a method of death.

I spent a few minutes, still as can be, all eyes on me, when [NAME REDACTED] put a hand on my shoulder.

"It's alright, I didn't have any preferences when I first started."

I didn't know what to say. I certainly didn't have any interest in seeing someone die, let alone in a specific way. But, saying no would break my cover, and make them all realize I wasn't there out of any interest. So, I told [NAME REDACTED] that she could choose, instead. She called me the best friend ever. Then, she turned to the lady, and in a voice that sounded so disconnected from her own:

"Make sure he dies by suffocation."

The lady just gave a thumbs up, and it began.

First, the bird masks backed out, and the room below was sealed. Only then, were his bindings released, as he immediately jumped forward, pulling off the gag and taking a moment's breath. Now out of the bindings, he was tinier than expected, having a frail build, small green eyes, and shaggy black hair. He didn't have much time to relax, as the lady towered over him, her shadow imposing.

"Well, sorry kid, no hard feelings."

She grabbed him by the ankle, lifted him up in the air, and slammed him down to the ground.

I feel nauseous trying to recount the full account, at least not in graphic detail. I will, at least, give a basic summary of what she did, and how the people around me were reacting to this poor boy's mutilation.

The second he hit the floor, the entire group went wild, as if watching a sports game, and even yelling directions to her on what to do next. I tried not to look suspicious about my lack of enjoyment, but... no one actually seemed to notice how I was reacting. I stood completely still watching as this horrible act took place.

He'd had the wind knocked out of him, but it would appear that this wasn't enough to cause any major damage. Once he tried to get up, however, she brought a large fist down on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him so hard that he barely let out a squeak. She repeated this a few times, until the last punch, when he coughed up some blood. Once that happened, she picked him up by his arm, holding him up as his body shook. After a few seconds of cheering, she grabbed him by the shoulder with her free hand, and brought the full arm down on her knee, snapping it like a twig. Only now was he able to let out something resembling a scream.

This continued on for the next twenty minutes. She tossed him around like a rag doll, and broke his other limbs in the same manner as had been done with his first arm, and would constantly hold him down, forcing him to squirm and bend in unnatural ways. The final time she held his body up, somehow managing to live through all of that, his body was pulsing and twitching, and he was still gasping at the air.

"Ah yeah, girlie wanted you to suffocate."

She said this like she'd forgotten to grab milk from the store.

For the next bit, she held the boy by the neck, squeezing him tightly as his broken body began to spasm more and more out of control, his already bruised face going even bluer. After an arduous amount of time, much longer than I thought it would take, his body finally went limp. Everyone was cheering.

There’s a lot that I'm leaving out of this explanation. After that, I asked to leave, and they gladly did so, handing me my benefits package and driving me back to where I started.

When I got home, I immediately checked the hidden mic. I'm not sure if I set it up incorrectly, or if something else happened, but all that it got was three minutes of static. Even so, I'm including the recording in the file with this message, just in case I might've missed something.

This is too much. I've tried calling the police multiple times, but I've felt too stressed and tired every time... I've slept through most of the day. I'm going to try again tomorrow. __________________________________________ See what I mean about that stupid little club of hers

Whatever. I already knew most of this stuff. Im just glad this Emma chick didnt get all fetishy about it like a lot of her goons do

got not much of a stomach for that i can tell you that much

not like i can out these creepy fucks for who they are. Ive got a contract to keep after all plus im pretty sure id get killed if i did so its really not worth it

as for that sound file ill make a new post for that one. its actually less than three minutes long but meh close enugh it gives me a headache in less than one minute anyways. i think i heard something weird at the end though

[calledbyhisgrace]

The power of prayers

Far from home

I studied far from home for the last years of university. It was my first time leaving my parents, and I was kind of always on edge and too cautious (or more like anxious about what could happen to me, well anyway) so I prayed a lot, more than I ever did before. I took my time to talk to my Mother Virgin Mary, and she interceded for me. She was a big support to me, and again I would like to thank her. One day, my mother called me (I called her every day) and told me that one of my cousin dreamt about my grandmother (who died a few years ago already). She told her that my grandma saw that I was praying a lot, and she added that whenever we, her grandchildren, are praying she is always with us by our side praying with us. I was so touched, I did not expect that, so I was really holding onto prayers at that time. It was as if God saying to me, keep praying, I see you and I hear you.

Rodney Reed

I saw an article about this inmate, Rodney Reed, a black man. He is 51 years old and is currently incarcerated in Texas since 1996, for the rape and murder of Stacey Stites, a white woman (I’m bringing skin colors here because the case heavily implied this). He has been on death row and was supposed to be executed on the 20th of November 2019.

So I read that article and it pointed out that Rodney Reed had indeed a relationship with the lady (Stacey Stites), and the fiancée of the lady knew about it. Now, there is a testimony from a former cellmate of the fiancée (cause he was sent to prison for another rape) saying that he killed Stacey because he could not bear the fact that she had a relationship with a black man. So! Things were not what they seemed to be, that maybe Rodney Reed was not the one who killed Stacey Stites…but this man was just going to die on the 20th of November 2019 for a murder he possibly did not commit…I was extremely sad.

In fact, my emotions had driven me to do a fast and pray for this man for 3 days (no food and no water). It was my first 3 days dry fast, I started on the 13th of Nov (at midnight) to the 15th (midnight), so 72 hours. On the 15th of November, I saw the news and an email, an update of the situation, was sent to me saying that his execution has stopped for a 120 day reprieve and this sentence: But for now, Rodney Reed will live, it was highlighted in yellow in the mail. I was like WOW WAIT?!

Now, actually I obviously did not follow the case from day 1 and I only read that only article, so at some point when I prayed I said, God I actually don’t know if this man is actually innocent, so if he’s not I’m not trying to say that You should absolutely save him. So if this is Your will Father, Help him, or I just pray that he will have enough courage and strength during this ordeal. I also said this scripture

Proverbs 17:15 He who justifies the wicked, and he who condemns the just, Both of them alike are an abomination to the Lord.

I prayed this scripture during the entire fast for him and GUESS WHAT?! MY GOD heard!! And delivered him. So I actually wanted to boast about my God, I know that many people signed the petition, many people called and celebrities have shown their support too. However, I also know that God has answered prayers and I believe I was not the only one who prayed. God hears you! Call Him!!

Finding a job

There was a lady, a family member who was trying to find a job. Now this person had issues about her previous job because the employer was dishonest with her from the beginning. She only accepted the job offer because she thought she was going to be promoted into a stable one, but the employer decided to break the contract. So, we were disappointed. We helped her applying for numerous jobs, almost everywhere and on every job offer she tried to send her application. But nothing… No answers. The lady also called the companies in which she has sent her applications, to show that she is very interested and motivated to work, but you know sometimes those people just tell you plain and simple that if they were interested then they would have called her… ugh! She had no idea where to send applications anymore. We felt like we did everything to help this lady, but nothing seemed to work.

So, this lady one day was in the living room. She was alone and had her phone in front of her. She was so desperate, so she prayed. She said God, you said you have called us to work (which is written in Genesis 3:19 “By the sweat of your brow will you have food to eat until you return to the ground from which you were made.”), give me a job, and a job in which I would serve you. JUST RIGHT THEN THE PHONE RANG! She received a call from companies, many of them, THAT SPECIFIC DAY. Later that day, she told us that God hears prayers. We, well I, had goosebumps all over my body, I was so thrilled.

Now she had interviews, but the companies had preferences for another applicant. Well, we still prayed! Now it was not just her who was praying. Then days later, a company called, they said they wanted to see her today because the first person they had chosen is not motivated anymore for the work. But her, the family member, was ranked 2nd on their list so, they want to discuss with her and sign the contract.

Praise my mighty God! Now the lady has her job (and actually when she said that she wanted a job where she can serve God, she said that she wanted a job that enables her to still go to Church). This is actually the job that she always prayed for: hours and salary as she wanted, and she gets positive comments about her work like every day, and her colleagues are sooo nice to her. Every limitation was broken. God Bless her in this life and the other! Amen!

PRAISE THE LORD!

[californiadreaminghq]

Oh good, you made it!

Did you guys know Amy was coming? She brought Rosalind Bennett, The Killer Queen! And just on time! Grab a drink, find a spot, and make sure you finish everything on the checklist. The band is just getting started – you have 24 hours to send in your account! We’re so glad you’re here!

I. OUT OF THE STUDIO

NAME/ALIAS: Amy

AGE: 20

PRONOUNS: she/her

TRIGGERS: Not much, really? Maybe just gorey images on the dash?

 II. ON STAGE

DESIRED SKELETON: The Killer Queen

NAME: Rosalind Bennett

FACE CLAIM: Keira Knightley, Natalie Dormer, Ruth Wilson

AGE: 34 (can be aged up if either backup FC is what I end up using)

OCCUPATION: A&R for Vital Noise

 III. INTERVIEW

Answer the following questions in your character’s voice:

If you could do anything in the world for a living, what would it be?

“Oh, Christ,” Rosalind says, a smile crossing her lips. “You really want to put me to work, don’t you?” She sits back in her chair, eyeing her questioner, and ponders this for a moment. “I”m happy with this, to be honest with you. The odd minor headache excepted, of course.” She gives a nonchalant shrug at this, though she can’t be quite sure how convincing she’s being. “But …”

As a teenager, she’d briefly wondered about selling records …what about that?

No. Too boring, if she thought about it for longer than a minute.

Thoughts of her attempted stage career flick through her head. Visions of herself, microphone in hand, belting out hooks that instantly make people cheer.

If only. God, that had been embarrassing, in the end. No way she could mention that.

“This suits me alright, I think. Lots of people to meet, and some new discovery is around the corner. You never get bored, that’s for sure.”

If you could travel anywhere, where would you go?

“If it’s for the job? New York might be alright. Haven’t made it over there for a while. If it’s just for me? Brighton, maybe. I know, I know, not high-class entertainment, but it’s a nice break from real life.”

What is one thing that makes you different than anyone else?

“I’m reliable.”

She catches the look on her interviewer’s face and can’t help but chuckle.

“Not quite the answer you wanted, was it? But hear me out for a minute, okay? The thing is, I could tell you all sorts of  fabulous things – about how I can walk into a bar, hear something fabulous, and sign whatever wunderkind is up onstage in no time it all. I couldtell you about all that. Spotting talent is important, but you won’t get anything for it if the talent you spot doesn’t like you. Trust you, even.

“That’s the difficult bit, and that’s the bit I think I’m pretty good at, since you’re asking me to sing my own praises. I know people, you see? I know what the embittered teenagers want to spend their pocket money on, but I get to know the artists too. I learn what they want to do, creatively, and then nudge them towards what they should do as much as I can.”

These days, she’s also learning how to keep some of the artists – and her colleagues – out of trouble. She doesn’t mention this.

“The music is great, of course. But the people are the really challenging part. That’s what makes it so …“

Exasperating?

“ …Thrilling, really.”                      

IV. BACKSTAGE

Rosalind Bennett has always felt rather at home near spotlights, if she’s honest.

“Sounds impressive, doesn’t it?” she’d say, if she told you this, her lips curving into a wry smile.

If you were listening carefully, you might notice that she never said she felt at home in the spotlight, as such.

The daughter of a musician and a film extra, Rosalind was almost never at a loss for interesting people to interact with – or to perform the odd cover for, if the mood called for it. Her charismatic, urbane parents and their equally charismatic, urbane friends all pegged her as a natural for some form of fame, surely, with charm, people skills, and enthusiasm like she had, even at a young age. Which was all more than fine by Roz, of course.

Her father, Harry Bennett, had been part of London’s music scene for much of the first half of the 20th century, dabbling in everything from crooning to rock to bouncy, catchy pop. After a stint penning hits for others, Harry embarked on a his own performing career in Rosalind’s young years. Against all expectations, Harry Bennett and the Hobnobs were catapulted into flourishing careers as pop-rock superstars, first filling England’s stadiums and halls, then an increasing number of American venues, too. Rosalind’s dad had somehow blown up. A real rockstar! What a thought!

The young Roz’s summer holidays soon became increasingly dominated by trips to recording studios with her father, so keen was her interest in pop and rock’s inner workings. Perturbed as many of Harry’s colleagues might have initially been at having to contend with his slip of a daughter hanging around, they soon learned to tune Roz out, leaving her to soak up whatever she could about the makings of a serious hit. As predicted, she quickly resolved that stardom simply must be in her future, and that, it seemed, would be that. She would follow her father into the business, and all would be grand.

After all, if her father had managed it, why couldn’t she?

The only problem was that she didn’t have the voice for stardom, truth be told. After a few years of straining to be heard in crowded bars, with nothing ever resembling a record deal on the horizon, she began to wonder if her mother and father’s encouragement – their shouts of “Darling! You were wonderful!” – may have been more subjective than her teenage self had thought.

With that dream dashed, would could the future hold for her now?

What the future held, it turned out, was something a little less starry than an onstage existence, basking in the happy yelps and cheers of adoring fans. The life of an A&R person – after an appropriate period of mourning for her performing life – turned out to be a more-than-adequate compromise for Roz. All those years of shadowing her father had fostered a well-tuned sense of how to spot a hit in the making, and she quickly found that she thrived off of the buzzing anticipation that came minutes before a venue’s show lights went up, a new discovery ready to emerge, if they – and she – were lucky.

Of course, she has always had the whispers to contend with – whether she worked in Britain or in California. It was “Bennett as in …that Bennett?! My God!” at first. Then came varieties of “Ooh, look at her! I bet dear old dad pulled a string or two, to get his darling into the business. You best be careful with those legacy kids, you know. What a headache!” But Roz always tried not to let it bother her – not too much. If she was just twice as quick, three times as fun and four times as sharp, she would show them. While the skeptics were grumbling, everyone else would have to brace themselves, to hide the metaphorical hearts that would so clearly beam from their eyes.

Nearly a decade on from her career change, Rosalind likes to think she’s bested more than a few non-believers. Now, though, other challenges might be around the corner. Her fifth year at Vital Noise has yielded good fortunes for her, but part of her feels just a tad stretched thin by the unreliability of some of the talent involved.

And even, dare she say it, the methods of some of her co-workers. She loves her work more than anything, but every so often she wonders what might happen if the usual rushes of adrenaline were to stop.

For now, though, she’s content to keep balancing every demand as long as she is able, and try to savor being at the top of her game for every second that she’s there. She’s earned it, after all.                                          

V. ENCORE

Here’s a little Pinterest board for Roz, if you’re interested! I wasn’t able to find any actual leather pants, but I hope this still gives you a blast of inspo!