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luisa2swag · 4 years

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Love me for me (2)

he towered over you, chest looking larger than usual thanks to the tight white shirt that stuck to his body with sweat. Your eyes darted to his nipple and before he could even muster another insult, His nipples were firmly grasped between your thumbs and index fingers, twisting away with all your might.

Your lips tugged upwards in satisfaction when he let out a yell of surprise and pain.

"What the actual fuck?!" He backed away, freeing himself from your hands. You smirked "Now you know why my last name is Mcniplecocker. Because I twist nipples and I certainly do have a cock!"

You were shameless as you said theses words. Jungkook couldn't even bother thinking of something else to say other than "okay I'm leaving." As you watched him walk away from you in the empty classroom. You saw him turn the doorknob but he did not move.

Was he maybe going to say something?

The tugs at the door knob became more violent with each twist and you could see Jungkook losing patience. His shoulders slumped, "We're locked in."

"W-what?"

[THREE HOURS BEFORE BEING LOCKED]

"W-wow." You looked at the school in amazement, boxes in your hands, you watched as the other male students buzzled around campus with their parents and installed themselves into their dorms.

You didn't have the luxury of being here with your dad. Imagine one of the most wanted criminals in the past setting foot into a place filled with lawyers. Your plan would be immediately dead but most importantly, you'd be behind bars.

This school must of been as old as Harvard. The building resembled the ones they would teach about in history class -You know the medieval ages- only the inside had been done up.

They were the only University that didn't open its gates to every gender which only lured more male heirs from all over the planet.

Parents thought that no girls meant no distractions but what they failed to know was that in 2018,some boys didn't just like girls.

"Hey, do you want help? You seem lost.." startled at the sudden deep voice coming from your right side, you jumped a bit.

Turning around to take a look at who had the audacity to initiate a conversation with your lonely ass. To be completely honest, you had just been standing around, mouth agape, looking at boys passing you by.

Holy shit he's hot

Instantly, you felt blood rush to your cheeks, you hoped that he wouldn't notice. He stood tall compared to you, nose long and eyes almost rectangle-ish. The sun and the ore gold were both jealous of his heavenly skin. You watched as he ran a large hand through his chestnut hair.

"Uh-huh" was all you could muster. A frown draped itself on your features, realizing how dumb and un-dude-ish you just sounded. Maybe you shouldn't be so hard on yourself, nothing could prepare you to the fact that a freaking model would be here speaking to your thirsty ass.

"Are you perhaps looking for your dorm? I had tricky time finding mine too in my first year." His voice god his voice.

"Am Taehyung, by the way." He smiled, a smile so adorable you couldn't help but smile back too.

"Am Bob, yeah I think I need help."you smiled sheepishly, holding your box closer to your chest.

"Alright, ill need the number of your dorm."

"67-b"

"Ahhh, that's the law dorms. So you're a law student huh? So am I." He seemed excited. Long legs already taking the lead to find your dorm.

"Are you a third year student or ?" You asked, now entering the dorm you presumed to be yours.

"No, just a second year." He smiled.

You both walked in a comfortable silence until he stopped infront of a door. "67-b is here." He said with the nod of his head, leaning against the wall near the door.

"Do we usually have roommates?" You read that since it was such a prestigious and little school, they would give you your own room but you needed to be sure. You didn't want any surprises. "Yeah it'll just be you in there." He affirmed with his usual dashing smile.

"Official classes start in two days but if you want, you could still go check out the classrooms. There won't be any teachers so make sure you leave the door open or else you might be surprised."

"Oh okay." You didn't bother dropping your voice a couple octaves, sure that in the near future where you could be possibly drunk or inattentive, It'd royally fuck you up. You found it to be a better idea to stick to your normal low but warm voice and let the guys think that "oh, his voice sounds slightly feminine!"

You took a step back, hoodie floating around your body and hiding your womanly curves the best it could, you bowed slightly "thank you so much. I hope I'll see you around school!" You actually did hope to see him around .

Not only was he devilishly handsome but very sweet. You wouldn't mind spending time with him all while gawking at his beauty greater than the Greek gods. "If you want, in about three hours I'll be able to hang. I would've been available way sonner if it wasn't for the fact that we both need to unpack a little bit. We could meet up at your new law class? What do you say?" He pointed finger guns at you, only making you blush more.

Fuck he doesn't even know I am a girl and here I am blushing like a schoolgirl just because he invited me to hang out.

"I'd love to I-I mean yeah, that be cool dude." Awkwardly, you raised a fist in the air which he happily bumped. "Okay I'll be off now!"

And just like that, the chestnut haired boy was out of your feet with hop of his own. Leaving you to unpack with the sound of 90's music from your cellphone.

Your room was a decent size, a simple bed on the left with a desk on the right, a tiny kitchen area and out and down the hallways were the shared bathrooms.

You took out the basics, some clothes, toothbrush, the frozen goods your dad had cooked you and bedsheets. You'd finish up your room later,after seeing Taehyung.

Yeah, I'll do this as soon as I get back!

[thirty minutes before being locked]

Your room looked neat. There were still some boxes here and there but you promised yourself to unpack them as soon as you got back.

Now you had changed into a comfortable black t-shirt and joggers.You made sure to duck-tape your breast, of course.

You stepped outside, the sun hung lower but still shined and the wind blew, giving you a comfortable breeze. The other students also seemed to take this evening as a chance to explore the campus more.

You watched as two boys ran, almost bumping you on their way. The shorter one with plump lips turned and blurted a bunch of apologizes before his taller lean friend dragged him by the collar. "Cmon Jimin, we need to get him !" And they were gone, leaving you to wonder exactly who they were going to get.

You continued making your way to the class, eventually finding it.

It was spacious just like in the movies about college life. You quickly found yourself a the front where the teacher desk was but before that you made sure to keep the door open, starring into space and waiting for the young man. You heard foot-steps and a smile already adorned your features.

You turned around, waiting to be met with the chestnut haired boy but you were just met face to face with a chestnut haired boy, that wasn't your chestnut haired boy.

"Erm, sorry." You squirmed away as the buff boy with the angular nose reached to grab something behind you.

"Were you really trying to steal the notes professor had prepared for me?" He took out a sheet of paper almost out of thin air and you just stared in amazement until it hit you.

Hold on, did this guy just accuse me ?

"W-what? I didn't even know that was there. I don't even know who you are!" Brows twisted together in confusion, you couldn't help but dart your eyes to the paper and to his piercing gaze, examining me like a corpse.

I gulped when he crossed his arms over his chest, oblivious to his flexing, he stood about one head and a half taller than me.

"You're lying. Everyone knows me." He scoffed, confident in the words he spoke as I blinked away, still In confusion.

"Come again?" I tried, I really genuinely had no clue who this dude was. I mean yeah he's kinda cute or whatever but with an attitude like that, I don't see him having any friends.

"Of course you would play dumb, well you are dumb for trying to steal my notes. Maybe you should take the initiative like me and ask teachers to prepare you notes of everything you'll have to study for the semester." His thin upper lip twitched upwards, his eyes trailing over my body, probably judging.

"I wouldn't be so quick to judge lil punk, school hasn't even started yet and to inform you, i am the smartest student here, I don't need your bitchass notes to be able to catch up on class before class has even started."ooooh I burned his bunny looking ass!

A smirk adorned my full lips when I noticed the blush spread across his cheeks like wildfire. I watched as his confident facade slowly broke when he took a step back.

"I guess you really don't know me then, my name is Jeon Jungkook." Now he was the one with the smirk.

I deadpanned, "Uh, yeah I totally know you. Omg I cant believe I didn't realize sonner!" Arms crossed, I rolled my eyes.

"Think harder dumbass. Jeon Jungkook, doesn't that ring any bells?"

I thought hard, past all the cat memes, gta on PlayStation 2 cheat codes, my club penguin password, the pin of my first iPod. Past all the unnecessary things my brain stored I finally found what he has hinting.

All boys : Great Jeon University

It couldn't be, no .

Or could it be ? With my luck it could. His smile grew larger as he saw my eyes widen in shock. "Don't tell me this is some crappy wattpad plot where your family happens to own this school?" I already dreaded the answer I knew I would get. "Yes it is." His chest proudly rose.

"Well I couldn't care less , dumbass." I stated, indifferent.

"I just told you that my family basically owns this place and you don't give a shit?" Index pointed at my face, he asked dumbfounded. Not sure if my lack of respect for him should be a good thing or not. "You have a lot of guts for saying that to the great Jeon."

"If you're so great how come you don't know how to tie your shoes properly, doo-doo head ?" I shot back, taking a step closer with my chin up, finger pointing at his untied basketball shoes. Jungkook scoffed "why am I even here arguing with you? You sure talk a lot but you forget that your last name is Mcniplecocker. Thats an instant L" Your eyes twitched confused, how did he know your name? Then your orbs wondered down to your shirt who haired had gifted you as a joke with your fake name written just above your left tit.

Your lips tugged upwards in satisfaction when he let out a yell of surprise and pain.

"What the actual fuck?!" He backed away, freeing himself from your hands. You smirked "Now you know why my last name is Mcniplecocker. Because I twist nipples and I certainly do have a cock!"

[taehyung pov]

I don't remember the building being so far... I entered the law block, nothing but the sound of my sneakers against the wood floor could be heard. Hallways were clear and so was the sky this evening. I smiled thinking of the new friend I had made.

Pat pat pat I whipped my head around st the sudden running noise "Jimin? Namjoon?" My brows arched in confusion, I watched how they frantically started shouting my name.

I looked back to the front

The class where I had so kindly asked you to meet up with me was maybe twenty steps away

I couldn't just blow you off, no that wasn't something I'd want at all.

But with a blink of an eye and a stumbling Jimin, we we're passed the door and left behind a loud clacking noise. In fear of having accidentally closed the door shut, I twisted my neck to look back all while running with the two grown man looped around my arms. "J-Jimin, the d-door!" I let out breathless, heart thumping

"Guys -wait there's someone-" Jimin quickly interrupted "Yoongi snuck a girl on campus!" I looked back again, wishing that my gut feeling was wrong, wishing I hadn't just locked someone in a classroom.

She might be late, everyone comes late nowadays! I reassured myself.

With a aggressive tug of my sleeve from Namjoon, I realized that I didn't have a choice.

I'll come back later, I promise.

[Narrator pov] You were shameless as you said theses words. Jungkook couldn't even bother thinking of something else to say other than "okay I'm leaving." As you watched him walk away from you in the empty classroom. You saw him turn the doorknob but he did not move.

Was he maybe going to say something?

The tugs at the door knob became more violent with each twist and you could see Jungkook losing patience. His shoulders slumped, "We're locked in."

"W-what?"

#bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts

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tarithenurse · 5 years

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Stranded - 2 of 2 (or 3)

Pairing: Loki Odinson x fem!reader Content: A bit of drama, but mostly fluff. Some errors due to lack of proof reading. A/N: So people liked the original (see Masterlist) and asked for more though I’d meant for it to be a one-shot…and then I thought: why not? There will be one more part after this if you guys are interested, other wise I’ll let this be the last.

Pacing back and forth, Loki only listens half-heartedly to the nonsensical babble of his friends. Lady Sif is entertaining Thor and the Warriors Three with her latest news from the training of the newest guard – she had assisted Tyr in a mock battle which he and his team had lost.

“Loki?” the victorious warrior call out.

The long strides carries the prince in question to the door where he has to turn around. “Yes, marvellous. Well done, lady Sif.”

Raucous laughter finally causes Loki to pause.

“Oh, brother mine,” the deepest voice hollers, “your thoughts are so far astray a skirmish may break out and you would not notice.”

Fandral, at least, finds a smidgen of compassion. “Is it the fate of the Midgardian that troubles you?”

There is understanding to be found despite the mirthful twinkle in his eyes and Loki admits to the worries. The Midgardian has been called before the All-Father, interrupting the stroll through the gardens that she and the raven-haired prince were enjoying after lunch. The two of them spend nigh all their waking hours in the company of each other as though each day is the last, they have together – it may as well be because lady [Y/N] is bound to return to her homeworld sooner rather than later.

Always. A word spoken so easily, taking their willing hearts captive. But always and forever will end eventually, Loki knows, as his father is ill-inclined to allow the use of Bifrost for the youngest son to travel to and from Midgard once [Y/N] has returned to a home she has no longing for.

“But this is simple!” Despite Volstag’s enthusiasm, the rest of the chamber’s occupants wait silently for him to elaborate. “If you cannot go to her then she must stay here.”

Loki frowns. “As much as I would love this, we all know how Odin’s attitu–“

“Yes, yes!” Fandral picks up on his friend’s idea. “A young maiden can easily be disguised among the people of Asgard or Vanaheim for a while until the All-Father’s attention has shifted and he has forgotten about the foreigner –”

“– at which point the young prince conveniently forgets the cause of his broken heart when he finds a new love,” Volstag completes, the two friends beaming.

… Reader …

You had decided with yourself on the very first night in Asgard that you like Frigga. The queen is kind, smart, and wonderfully wise to the point where you’re beginning to suspect that she’s got a lot more to say in terms of the affair of the kingdom than she officially is supposed to. Right now that’s a good thing. Sitting face to face with king Odin all on your own would have been nerve wrecking (the guard in full armour and with a fabulous but rather lethal looking spear might not help either) so you’re thankful for Frigga’s presence.

I wish Loki was here. It’s not the first time the thought presents itself during the audience, but you try your best to keep calm. This is about him too, though. Odin is ignoring that detail quite brilliantly, however, as he talks about your future without pausing for you to get a word in.

The thing is: as a so-called Midgardian, you’re not supposed to have come to Asgard at all. Now that you happen to be there, the quasi-mythological ruler is worried if other people might suddenly pop up from either Earth or anywhere else, really, and as you haven’t been able to explain how you managed the trip…well, it’s hard to put that concern to rest. The next point that Odin wants to discuss (or rather, monologue) is how you were to handle the knowledge you now have of Valhalla and the “realm” once you do return home. At this point, you take a risk by interrupting the old god to promise that of course you wouldn’t say anything to anyone, and at least Frigga supports you (and further adds that no one would believe you anyways which hurts but is true). Odin? Not convinced.

A song you can’t quite remember enough of keeps bouncing around in your brain: Should I stay or should I go now…unfortunately, you can’t recall more of it so it only adds to your frustration. Seeking Frigga’s gaze, you’re seconds away from losing your temper.

“Perhaps, then, we must consider the simpler of two options?” Frigga winks quickly at you, making sure her husband doesn’t see. “It appears to me the best solution would be to have [Y/N] stay. I am certain that she can make herself useful, and although it will be hard to leave everything behind…it time, she might find happiness here?”

You don’t dare to say anything or even breathe as you wait for Odin to make up his mind.

Tugging softly at the beard, the king mumbles to himself. “It would eliminate the risk of the wrong people obtaining any information, exploiting it…”

“Indeed, dear husband.” Frigga has clearly counselled like this before. “Of course…accommodating lady [Y/N] need not be your concern. Such trivial matters could be dealt with by, say, Loki?”

The beard gets an extra tug before the god lights up with a smile, his eye nearly disappearing between the wrinkles. “He has taken quite an interest in you, has he not?” For a second, you recognize Thor in that face.

“Y-yes, your highness, prince Loki-i is very uhmm kind to me.” Nooo, why do I have to stammer?!

“So it shall be,” Odin declares with a grand gesture, “you must remain here...or on Vanaheim if that is more agreeable. Loki will be informed of this and he shall be in charge of your settlement.”

To his right, Frigga winks again, a mischievous smile at the corner of her mouth. “Do not worry, dear girl, I will be delighted to ensure everything is fine.”

It’s clear the audience is over and you get up, making sure to bow (which makes the king guffaw quietly) and thank them both before you rush out.

Every cell of you is aching for Loki with the exception of your braincells that are working overtime to make sense of what just happened. I’m staying? Odin never asked what you wanted and maybe he knew already from the queen whom you’ve talked a lot with about your home and the situation there, but it still feels odd to have someone else make a decision on your behalf as though it isn’t actually your life at all. But…I wanna stay. Pausing briefly next to a statue of a stern-looking Viking, you feel the warmth of the golden metal reflected in your chest and stomach. Yeah, staying feels right. For a moment, you bask in the soothing serenity that everything only can get better from now on.

But…what if…? A new wave of disastrous possibilities rise to engulf you, drown out the joy. Fighting the tide is useless as you own mocking voice pokes fun at you and questions everything you might just have gained. What if Loki doesn’t really want you around? Or if he does, for how long then? A simple “Midgardian” really can’t hold his interest for very long, the sing-song voice in your skull jeers.

A strong arm wraps around your shoulder, bulging muscles squeezing a bit too tight for comfort as they pull you into the shadows behind the golden statue. Too surprised to say anything, you automatically follow the order to remain quiet whispered by a deep voice.

Thor peers at you with gleaming eyes. “Lady [Y/N],” the whisper sounds like a distant rumble of thunder, “do not be alarmed.”

Easy for you to say! The heart is stuck in your throat, hammering frantically. “Oo-kay?”

… Loki …

Urging the stead out of the stables, the young prince resigns to the fact that he will not have a chance to double-check the hastily packed supplies - at the very least the trip to Vanaheim should not last more than a few days, though, now that any official passages are out of the picture.

Loki lingers for a few seconds, looking wistfully at the golden-capped towers of Valhalla before he spurs the horse into a gallop out of the city.

Leaving has never been this hard before. He knows he will return, forced to keep up the charade until the All-Father has forgotten the incident of the Midgardian intruder, but in this very moment, he has left the fate of his true love in the hands of his friends.

The plan is simple. Loki will wait until the cover of darkness at which point Fandral will smuggle [Y/N] out of the castle. Thor will stay behind to distract their father and mother, however in case that is not enough then Lady Sif, Hogun, and Volstag will remain as well to give credibility to any scenario established to throw the king (and potentially Heimdal) off the tracks.

The raven-haired prince prefers to leave with his sweetheart (and argued vehemently for this until Sif commented that he would be the first to be kept under observation as soon as Odin’s mind was made up). No, it will be better that he already is out of sight, and as he is needed to navigate the hidden paths between realms, then this is the only other option.

…

No rest for the wicked. Anxiously pacing around and around the same tree, Loki’s mind is a mess and his guts are filled with alternatingly lead and butterflies. There has been no comfort in the company of his steed as the animal has found a patch of sorrel collecting the evening dew. Now the last bird sings goodnight, ending its tune on a soft twirdle that echoes through the dusk before stilling.

The shadows grow deep. Loki’s horse decides it is time to settle in for the night, rubbing the saddle that lies on the ground into position before lying down with its head upon the embossed leather. The man walking in circles find no rest.

When a light finally can be seen, moving between the trees as a glowing orb entrenched by sharp teeth of darkness, Loki’s heart stops. One horse. He supposes it shouldn’t surprise him. Do Midgardians ride horses nowadays? A tentative breath makes room for normal breathing until he realizes that the single horse only has no rider while merely a single shape walks beside it. Fandral…where is [Y/N]? It is as though a bottomless crevasse open before Loki’s feet, invisible currents trying to pull him in, making him stagger as he steps forward to wards the blond man.

“Where is she?” Loki is aware how his voice shakes, but it does not matter. “Has Odin sent her away already?”

The mischievousness beneath the gentle smile is similar to Loki’s own, yet he cannot abide the sight of it and nearly looses his temper before Fandral finally answers. “As surprising as it may be, our carefully laid plan turns out to be unnecessary for a different reason. Come, my friend.”

… Reader …

You’re steaming with indignation, but thankfully for your surroundings a sense of appreciation for the (misplaced) helpfulness is creeping in…or maaaybe it’s the abashed apologies on repeat from Thor.

He’d scared the life half out of you when he grabbed you, and pretty spot on compared to the myths the guy had carried on with the “plan” without listening to any of the objections launched at him with an increasing amount of violence. Admittedly, your fists probably weren’t the worst pain he’s imagined through his life. It wasn’t until you’d been brought to the rest of the gang that you get a word in, stopping the outrageous escapade.

“We truly were just trying to –“

“I know!” You interrupt Thor a bit harsher than intended. Oops. “I know and I…I’m thankful…it’s just…” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose for a moment, “perhaps it’s best to ask next time if the help is needed?”

The blond warrior slash god has the decency to agree before making himself scarce to see if someone elsewhere needs any help.

Left alone, you finally have a chance to look around the room. It’s not your own but Loki’s and although you’ve been in there before, it’s the first time you really have the time to look around – or more correctly, it’s the first time you’re not being distracted by Loki in all his kind and brainy splendor.

…

Mesmerized by one of the few books you can actually read (honestly, you’d just wanted a peek to see what sort of literature the god likes) the sound of running footsteps barely manage to register with you before the door is slammed open to reveal a dishevelled Loki in front with a Fandral and Thor behind (both looking appropriately apologetic, still).

“[Y/N]…”

The silver tongued prince is rarely in lack of the right thing to say and you would have felt smug about it if it wasn’t for the desperation in his eyes. Large, roaming your face and shape in sign of any sign of distress before they light up with the intensity of a winter’s sun, stealing your breath away and making your knees go soft. An impractical change as you’ve just stood up. But of course, within a split second he’s there, practically sweeping you off your feet and into a lover’s embrace, lips meeting soft and hungry.

When next you become aware of your surroundings, it’s nice to see that the door has been closed to provide the two of you with some privacy.

“I thought…” Loki’s breath fans your cheek and neck. “If only I had dared to imagine father would let you stay…”

Pulling back slightly to kiss his nose, you share the anxious shiver of what could have been. “Your mom probably had something to do with it, to be fair.”

“I shall be sure to thank her.” He is somehow able to lift you and carry you to the bed without getting tangled in the dress you’d been told to wear today by a maid, and for a second it’s like you’re a real princess. “My love.” The plush mattress rises to hold you instead as the gentleman of a god kneels before you. “I could not stand the risk of losing you, not now and not ever…”

Waaaaait a second…

“I have no token to offer you in this moment as a symbol of my undying love, yet I must ask…” At this point you’re certain you feel your brain implode. “Will you take me as your husband?”

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crystalninjaphoenix · 6 years

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One Short Day

A JSE Fanfic

Yay, I wrote something that isn’t connected to pain for once in my life! Or at least, the most you get are hints and maybe a moment. I was planning on working on something else, but...I don’t know, I just felt like I needed something softer, and I’m sure there are people who need that too. So behold, an attempt at mostly-fluff! I just wanted to write the boys having fun out on the town, simple enough ^-^

It was rare that there was a full day they could all be together. A day where Schneep wasn’t working, Chase wasn’t recording, Marvin didn’t have a show, and Jackie didn’t have to bolt off at the last minute to do heroic vigilantism. A day where they could just do whatever they wanted, all of them, together.

They met up at Jackie’s apartment building. Naturally, JJ arrived first, then Schneep and Chase at about the same time. Just when they were starting to get worried, Marvin showed up, sprinting up to the group and skidding to a halt beside them.

“Late again, I see?” Jackie said when Marvin finally caught his breath. “Maybe we should just tell you we’re meeting thirty minutes earlier than we actually are.”

“Gimme a break.” Marvin rolled his eyes. “My phone was out of battery so I couldn’t check the time, then I got distracted.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “With what?”

“Um...” Marvin looked away, embarrassed. “I may have started playing Plague Inc...for an hour...or more.”

“Dude. Set a timer next time or something,” Chase said. “Ask JJ if you can borrow one of his watches if you have to, I dunno, anything.”

“Enough of this, we are wasting minutes,” Schneep said, checking his own watch. “Jackie decided what to do, what is it?”

Jackie immediately brightened. “Okay, so, we all know JJ hasn’t seen much of the town.” Everyone nodded. “So I thought we could give him the grand tour! Get lunch, go to the park, and I think the fair is open tonight so we can finish with that. That good with everyone?”

“So we’re just gonna walk all over town?” Chase asked. “Only two of us can drive, and none of us have a car right now.”

“Toughen up, Chase, walking’s good for you!” Marvin teased. “Right? Schneep, you’re a doctor, tell him I’m right.”

“He’s right,” Schneep said.

“See?!”

JJ snapped his fingers for attention. I thought we were wasting time? I certainly can’t lead the way, so I’ll ask one of you to.

“Right!” Jackie started off. “C’mon guys, lunch is waiting for us!”

They ended up at a local restaurant near the center of town called Kassie’s. It was a quaint little place, and since it was a warm day they decided to sit at a table outside. The chipper waitress gave them a plate of free fries, then took their order, and headed back inside.

“Is it just me, or is it kind of hot today?” Chase asked, fanning himself with some of the napkins.

“No, it’s not just you. God, I’m dying,” Jackie agreed.

“Jackie, you are not only wearing long sleeves, you are wearing two layers of them,” Schneep pointed out with a smile.

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Mr. Sweater-all-the-time!” Jackie rolled his eyes. “What about Jays? He’s got that vest/dress shirt on.”

JJ looked aghast. You four can run around and show your arms all you like, but I’ll have you know it isn’t proper for a gentleman!

“Are you implying we aren’t gentlemen?” Marvin asked, right before tossing a fry into the air and catching it in his mouth.

JJ raised an eyebrow. Indeed.

“I don’t care, it’s hot. I’m taking this off.” With a few flailing arms, Jackie pulled his hoodie over his head and tugged it off, revealing a Marvel-themed T-shirt underneath. “Ah. That’s better.” He looked around to see the others staring at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Holy shit, Jackie!” Chase yelled. “Your arm!”

“Wh—oh fuck I forgot I was wearing short sleeves today.” Jackie looked down at his left arm. “Yeah, okay, I got scars, you can look all you want.”

“So that’s why I’ve never seen you in T-shirts,” Marvin realized. “Jackie, what the fuck happened?”

Jackie frowned, then coughed awkwardly. “Y’know...I’d rather not talk about it right now. Maybe later. Besides, Schneep already knows the story. ‘S how we met.”

“Honestly, you three are making mountains out of mole hills,” Schneep said. “Is fine now. You should see his torso, now those are scars.”

That only made the other three look more worried. Jackie sighed. “Look, guys, we’re having a fun day. We’re gonna have fun, and not gonna get all concerned, though I do appreciate it. And you—” he glared at Schneep “—need to stop saying that, ‘cause it makes it sound like I lost some epic battle instead of just having top surgery.”

Chase and Marvin relaxed in unison. “I’m still convinced you have, I dunno, fucking bullet scars or something,” Marvin muttered as Chase pulled the remains of the fries towards him.

“Oh yeah, but Schneep’s talking about the surgery. He’s done this before, and it’s no longer funny!” Jackie looked pointedly at Schneep when saying that last part, who just responded with a massive grin.

JJ was the only one who still looked concerned, but now that was paired with confusion. He looked around at the others. What is top surgery?

You could almost hear the hiss as the others all inhaled sharply in unison. They’d all forgotten for a moment that JJ didn’t know. Schneep cleared his throat. “Jackie, would you like to explain?”

“Right yeah. God, where do I start with this?” There was a slight pause in the conversation as the waitress returned with their food. The moment she was out of earshot, Jackie started up again. “Alright, so...” he leaned forward, hands clasped together, eyes wide and nervous. “You know how I call myself Jackieboy Man, right?”

JJ nodded. A moniker I never understood, but yes.

“Well, I didn’t always call myself that. Neither did anyone else. Because, well, they all thought that...I was a, uh, girl. Even I did. For the longest time I just sort of...accepted it. I only started to figure it out in high school. I got my first job, and one of the customers called me ‘that nice lady,’ and hearing it...just sort of surprised me. Like someone gave the wrong answer to a really easy test question. So...I started thinking, and eventually I realized that I wasn’t...actually a girl. That was when I renamed myself.”

JJ didn’t look any less confused. Why would they not understand that? Wouldn’t they be able to...see that you are not?

Jackie winced. “Well, no...you see, I...fuck.” Jackie put his head in his hands, took a deep breath, then looked up again. “I was born...in the wrong body. Top surgery is...it’s to get rid of the parts I didn’t want. Are you...are you getting this now?”

After a moment, JJ’s eyes widened. He nodded hesitantly.

“Okay. Good. Great.” Jackie sighed. “I don’t know if this word existed in the twenties, but nowadays we have ‘transgender’ as...a thing. When someone is something other than what their body is born as. I’m still a he. Or, just, anything but she, really. Literally call me anything but a girl. And please, don’t ask about what my name was before. Or what’s...down there. Those questions make me...really uncomfortable.”

My good man! JJ signed. Why would I do such a rude thing? And to my dear friend, nonetheless.

Jackie’s shoulders slumped. He leaned back in his chair and exhaled in relief. He’d been dreading this conversation, but better to rip the bandaid off now. “Thanks, man. I...appreciate your understanding.”

JJ smiled. No trouble at all, Jackie! I may not fully grasp the concept, but that’s no reason to disrespect your wishes.

“If you want, I can answer questions. Just...later. And as long as you get I don’t represent everyone who’s trans.”

JJ nodded and gave a thumbs-up. There was silence for a moment, before Chase broke it by saying “Hey, guys, I made a Jenga tower out of fries.”

Schneep rolled his eyes, and immediately knocked over Chase’s tower.

“Aw you bitch!” Chase gasped. “You didn’t even play the game right!”

“Fuck your games. Actually eat the food like it’s supposed to be.”

“You’re just jealous cause you got a salad instead.”

“Maybe I am! Did you think of that?!”

“Dude, I just said I did!”

The rest of lunch was covered in the blanket of familiar banter. Jackie smiled to himself. God, he was so glad nothing changed.

About two hours later, the boys had made their way to the southern part of the city. That was where the park was. It had an official name, but everyone just called it “the park” because there was only one of them and it was shorter. The park itself was pretty big, with trees, paths, flowerbeds, and two playgrounds at either end.

Since it was the middle of the afternoon, there were quite a few families with young children hanging around, parents watching their kids climb all over the jungle gyms and pushing them on the swings. While Marvin and Jackie walked ahead, pulling JJ with them and talking his ears off, Chase and Schneep hung back a bit. Chase was staring at the families on the playground.

“Chase? Are you okay?” Schneep asked gently.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m fine. It’s not a down day.” Schneep gave him a Look. “No, really! It’s just...y’know, seeing all the kids kinda bums me out. You know?”

“Of course I do, Chase,” Schneep said. He was probably the only one of the boys who did. “If you are feeling upset, you can go home.”

“No! God, no, that’s not what I meant at all. This has been good so far. I don’t want it to end.” Chase frowned. “Now I’m just...man. I’m starting to lose it.”

“Chase.” Schneep grabbed his hand. “If you are not enjoying yourself, we can always go do something more quiet. We would hate to push you to do something you are not up to.”

Chase considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah, it’s not too bad. It helps that you guys are here, I think. But I’ll let you know...if it gets too much.”

Schneep gave him a long look, before finally judging that everything was alright. “Okay. You have to do that, or I am going to break into your home at night and yell at you for lying.”

“Okay, okay, I get the idea,” Chase laughed. He looked down at their clasped hands. “You’re not worried people are gonna think we’re a couple, then?”

“What? Oh. Is there no such thing as regular hand-holding in this country?! Besides, it should not fucking matter. Also you are not my type anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re not mine, either. You’re a guy.” Chase and Schneep both had a good laugh at that.

Marvin looked over his shoulder at the two of them. “Are you two gonna walk fast or what?”

“Or what,” Chase said with a smirk.

“Oh, you’re hilarious. A fucking comedic genius. Hey guys!” he said that last part to Jackie and JJ. “We’re gonna slow down so these two assholes can join us.”

“Marvin, how dare you,” Schneep said, mock-offended. “At least be more creative in your insulting us.”

“No.” The two mini-groups merged together to form the main group once again. “So what’re you two talking about?”

“Chase is worried that hand-holding makes a couple,” Schneep tattled.

“Bullshit,” Marvin stated. Jackie went “yeah!” in the background. JJ frowned at the use of language, but nodded. “What makes a couple is the kissing. And romantic interest in each other, which leads to the former.”

“You say, having not been on a date in at least five months,” Jackie muttered.

“Shut your stupid face, you...lovely person.” Marvin pulled his wand out of his pocket and twirled it, like he did when he was nervous. “We’ve all been kinda busy lately.”

“Yeah...that’s true,” Jackie sighed. “But maybe if you went out more, you could find someone you could go out with. Just once, if a commitment isn’t your thing right now.”

Marvin frowned. “Why in the wide world of wingmen would I go on a date once deliberately?”

“A night of fun?” Schneep suggested.

“With a complete stranger that I have no interest in? No. I need to have some intrigue in whoever they end up being.”

“None of you are gonna get anywhere with him,” Chase said. “He doesn’t get one-night stands.”

“Damn right I don’t! There’s no point!”

And it just seems improper, JJ signed. If you aren’t going to court someone, don’t approach them at all.

“Marvin! You have an ally!” Jackie gasped.

“Good. Finally, someone who agrees with me.” Marvin held up his hand and, after a moment of figuring out, JJ high-fived it. “Yeah! There we go, you got it!”

Jackie checked the time on his phone. “Alright, it’s starting to get a bit late. If we want to get enough time at the fair, we’re gonna have to book it to the eastern side.”

They didn’t actually run the whole way there, despite Jackie wanting to. By the time they got to the fair the sun was starting to set. They bought tickets and headed inside, where the Ferris wheel and the roller coaster towered over the smaller rides and the carnival games. It was a weekday, but it was one of the first days the fair was open, so the fairgrounds were crowded but not packed.

Chase gasped. “Games. We can do the games first.”

You do realized they’re all rigged, right? JJ asked.

“Who cares? They’re fun! Games now.”

Soon, the others started to suspect that the reason Chase was so eager to play games was because he knew he would win every time. The dude was scarily good. A combination of sheer luck, skill, and fuck-it-let’s-take-a-chance-ness led to many more victories than the others, something Marvin and Schneep immediately called him out for.

“You are cheating, I am sure of it!” Schneep huffed, folding his arms.

“Nah, just have a knack for it. And, in this case, practice.” Chase tossed one of the wooden balls back and forth while he waited for the carnival worker to hand him his prize. “Ya gotta aim for a bit above the spot where the third jug sits on top of the other two, then throw hard. It’s a bit of an arc.”

“No, you’re a cheater,” Marvin asserted, muttering darkly.

“Aw, c’mon! Here, will this make you less salty?” Chase accepted his stuffed prize from the worker, then handed it right over to Marvin. “I got it for you! You like cats.”

Marvin glared down at the plushie. “You’re lucky it has a cute face,” he said.

“See?!” Chase smiled. He was actually having a good time. It was a good change of pace from the park.

Eventually, everyone had a prize except for JJ. They were running out of games to play, but then Jackie spotted one of those ‘find the ball under the shuffling cups.’ “Hey guys, you up for that one?”

JJ brightened. I’m actually quite skilled at those!

“Well, then, let’s go!” Jackie pulled him over, the others in tow.

The carnival worker was calling out the rules of the game. “You get one, you win one of these lovely roses, you get two in a row, you win one of these tiny fellows here, and you get three in a row, you win one of these adorable penguins! Step right up, step right up!”

“Hey!” Jackie waved to get the worker’s attention. “We want to play!”

“Well then, young sirs, the rules are simple. Keep your eye on the ball, see right here, right here, it’s under the middle cup. Now watch as I take the cup this way, then that, then this and oh look at that! It’s goin’ fast, it’s goin’ fast don’t lose it don’t lose it! Now, which one is the ball under?”

Jackie was fairly sure he knew where it was, but he turned to JJ anyway. “So, which one?” he asked.

JJ bit his lip, then reached forward to point at one of the cups...only for the worker to slap his hand away. “I’m sorry sir, please don’t touch the cups. To prevent tamperin’, see? Just tell me.”

JJ looked a bit stunned at the worker’s aggressive tone. But he signed It’s under the left one.

“Excuse me?”

“He says it’s under the left one,” Marvin jumped in.

“...ah, I see.” The worker lifted up the cup to reveal the ball. “Seems you were right. Do you want to try again?”

The boys glanced uneasily between each other. The worker’s tone had dropped from the polite-carnival talk to one that was a bit...short. She was also talking much slower than she was before, drawing out the vowel sounds. “He can hear you perfectly fine,” Chase said. “He just can’t talk.”

“Mmm...I see...” The worker pursed her lips. “Do you want to try again?”

They all nodded. The worker was silent this time as she shuffled the cups, faster than before. When she stopped, she looked at Jackie. “Which one is the ball under?”

Jackie had a vague idea where, but he wasn’t sure. “JJ, do you know?”

The left one again, JJ signed, less enthusiastically.

“The left,” Jackie translated.

The worker frowned as she revealed the ball under the left cup. “You boys aren’t cheating, are you? Those weird gestures seem like symbols.”

Marvin laughed bitterly. “Yeah, they’re symbols alright. They stand for words. Do you not know how sign language fucking works? He’s telling us the answers ‘cause he’s the best one at it. Now let’s do this one more time.”

The worker shuffled the cups impossibly fast. Once more, she asked Jackie where the ball was. This time, he had no idea, and just looked at JJ. JJ, in turn, stiffened a bit, eyes hardening. It’s under the right one, though I wouldn’t put it past her to sneak it up her sleeve.

“Right,” all the boys said in unison.

The worker reluctantly lifted up the rightmost cup to show the ball sitting underneath. “Congratulations,” she said dully. “You win one of the big prizes. What color do you want?”

Turquoise, JJ signed. “Turquoise,” Jackie translated.

They walked away from the booth in silence. After a few moments of walking, Marvin said, “I could totally put a curse on her.”

“No,” Jackie said firmly.

“Just one little spell. She can lose her voice for a week.”

JJ shook his head, then tucked his prize under his arm so he could use his hands to sign. Revenge is never the best answer.

“It’s what she deserves!” Marvin snarled. “She was making that difficult on purpose. I saw her, she was going much slower with the customers before us. JJ, I’m so absolutely sorry on her behalf, cause god knows she’s not gonna fucking apologize.”

It’s okay, JJ insisted. Believe it or not, I’ve faced worse, especially in my day. They were much less friendly back then.

“I am sure you are not using that word in the correct meaning,” Schneep mumbled.

Marvin shoved his hand into the pocket containing his wand. “One hex. Come on. Just one. I won’t even make her ears fall off or anything.”

Everyone refused to let Marvin curse the carnival worker, and he reluctantly relented. At this point, they’d finished with the games, and all that was left were the rides. They took turns, one or two of them sitting out to watch the accumulated prizes while the others spun and flew and then stumbled off the rides. After trying most of the rides out, they took a snack break for ice cream and cotton candy.

“I think the Ferris wheel is the only one left,” Jackie said. “Unless we want to catch that sideshow thing. There’s supposed to be magicians—”

“Fake,” Marvin interrupted.

“—clowns, animals, and they advertised a knife-thrower—”

Schneep nearly choked on his ice cream. “No.”

“Okay, got it. No show then.” Jackie nodded. “But I’m not too sure about the Ferris wheel. I know at least one of us is afraid of heights.”

“Yeah, uh, me.” Chase bit his lip. “But I think I’ll be fine if I don’t look over the edge. Unless someone else doesn’t want to go on it, then I’ll stay off with them.”

“I’m good,” Jackie said. “Schneep? Marv? Either of you scared of heights?” Both of them shook their heads. “Alright. JJ?”

JJ signed, A bit, but after all these dizzy rides, I’ll take something calm like the Ferris wheel, if you please.

“Alright. Guess we’re going on the wheel, then!”

Night had truly fallen by this point. The Ferris wheel wasn’t exceptionally tall, but it still rose above everything else in the fair, providing a fantastic view of the colored lights below. Instead of having the traditional two-person seats, this wheel had booths that could fit up to eight people, so all the boys fit into one just fine. The wheel turned, and the booth turned with it. Chase squirmed, resolutely not looking over the side. Jackie and Marvin did the exact opposite, practically leaning out of the booth to look down below.

JJ tapped Schneep, signing something real quick. Schneep nodded, then yelled “Can you two stop that?! You are going to fall out of the fucking side, and you are making Jamie nervous.”

“Oh, sorry.” Jackie sat back down.

“Aww,” Marvin groaned, but pulled back into his seat. “I hope you know I do this for you, JJ.”

JJ smiled. Thank you, it’s appreciated. And I’m sure your body feels the same way, having narrowly avoided a fall to great injury.

“Nah, I would’ve been fine.”

The wheel stopped. Their booth was right at the top. “Oh, fuck,” Chase muttered, covering his eyes with his hands.

“You know, you didn’t have to come,” Jackie said quietly. “We would’ve been alright letting you stay down on the ground.”

Chase peeked between his hands. “I know. But...it’s really nice up here. Quiet. And with just you guys. As long as I ignore the distance from the ground, I’m good. You’re my friends, you know, and you make everything better.”

“Oh, Chase,” Marvin gasped. “That’s...really sweet!”

“What? Didn’t think we where friends?”

“It’s...always nice to be reminded.” Marvin smiled softly.

Well then consider this your reminder, Marvin! JJ wiggled his mustache happily. I consider you all my friends, maybe even family. You are all wonderful people and I love having you in my life!

“Nooo, stop.” It was hard to see in the dark, only lit up by the lightbulbs on the Ferris wheel, but it was possible that Marvin was actually blushing.

“You know what? I love you guys.” Jackie grinned. “Not afraid to admit it! Best friends I’ve ever had.”

Schneep cleared his throat. “Yes, I feel the same. You are all great people, and I am fortunate to have met you. I...love you as well.”

“Aaaahck!” Marvin appeared to be trying to fold into himself. “Too much love! Fatality!”

Chase chuckled. “Marvin! Accept our love!”

We love you, Marvin! JJ signed eagerly. Now you have to say it back!

Marvin made a strange sort of groaning exhale before inhaling deeply, calming down. “Yeah...I—I love you guys too. God, I love you guys so much. You should all know that.”

“There we go!” Jackie said, triumphant. “Marvin, you are, truly, the emotionally constipated one. And I thought Schneep was the worst.”

“Excuse me?!” Schneep gasped. “I assure you I am very love-sharing. I just do not use words too much because they are complicated.”

“Understandable,” Chase shrugged. “I can barely speak half the time, and I was born in English.”

I thought you were born in Ireland, JJ signed, amused.

“Oh, you know what I mean!”

The Ferris wheel started lowering, stopping and starting as it let passengers off. The boys stepped out of the booth and onto land once again.

JJ yawned. I must say that I’m rather tired after all this. I think it’s time we go home.

“Yeah, I’m starting to feel it,” Jackie agreed.

“You all are weak!” Marvin countered. “I’m good for another couple hours.”

“Watch you crash immediately upon entering your room,” Chase laughed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I think JJ is right,” Jackie said. “It’s time to go home.”

Schneep nodded. “Yes, I could stay up longer, but I have morning shift tomorrow so I should not push my luck. I will see you all later?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Course, dude!”

“Definitely.”

Count on it!

With that, they left the fair. Eventually they split up, each heading their own separate ways until they eventually got to wherever they were staying that night. Some went to sleep immediately, some stayed up a bit later, but eventually they all went to bed.

And when they decided to do it, none of them had trouble for once.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #chase brody #dr schneeplestein #jameson jackson #brigid writes fanfiction

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creatorofclay · 6 years

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Mobile information

Rules

Basic RP rules and courtesies. No god modding, unless it’s something small to move the story forward.

Personal blogs do not reblog my threads, ooc posts, or headcanons. You are welcome to follow, reblog art or memes or things that I specify can be reblogged. Please please don't reblog any of my threads and RPs.

Mun =/= muse. I promise I am far better than this disaster man.

Dark themes may be present here. And in the same vein: I support writing problematic themes. This does not mean I support them IRL, it just means I support writing them in a safe space. Take that however you want.

I am open to anyone and I don’t have any exclusives, but please bare in mind that I do follow my muse. Sometimes he focuses more on certain threads than others.

DO NOT like a post multiple times or unfollow and refollow multiple times to get my attention. No one likes to see that and I WILL hard block you for it.

I am not mutual exclusive. What does this mean? It means that following is not a requirement to rp with me and that I may not follow back right away. When someone new follows, I don't always jump on and follow right away. It keeps my dash clean to people I know or talk to and interact with. Now, if you are mutual exclusive and you follow me, meaning you want to write with me, I encourage you to reach out. I do that when I follow people I want to write with, whether it be sending asks or liking starter calls or even sending a message. (I don't really do starter calls, I know, but asks are always open, even anon) If you follow because you want to write me, TELL ME.

IN ADDITION TO THIS: If you do wish to message me to start an rp or something, do NOT just message a short message or single word. If you have something to say, I would rather you say it up front. I don’t appreciate the little messages that are just meant to get my attention.

I may be open and non selective, but I DO maintain the right to deny rping with you. Especially if I know you are someone who has had issues with people in the past, immaturity or not respecting boundaries or just plain ignoring what someone says.

To any and all Gavin muses: Default of my blog is that Elijah is an only child. I will absolutely be your brother if you'd like, I just ask that you let me know it is your intention so we can work out their relationship and childhoods (if they were together, if they knew, etc). it's the only thing I absolutely ask we plan out ahead of time.

I work evenings(typically) in retail full time IRL so my time can seem scarce or sporadic sometimes. I only ask that you be patient with me, but you are also welcome to poke me if you feel like it’s been a while since I responded. I try to get to everything in a timely manner.

I don’t have any triggers, and I tag everything that is triggering in my posts. If you need something specific tagged, don’t be afraid to ask me. You can send an anon even, if it helps. All triggers are tagged "tw trigger" from me

My side blog is a Simon blog! @itisnothingtodie! He used to be his own account, but when my activity shifted over here to Elijah, I figured it was best to keep him much closer. He is still very low muse at the moment, but if you are interested in him feel free to message me there!

I also now have @finalfcrm, which is my special RK900 blog! My special boy, interact at your own risk ;)

Also be aware if you follow him I follow back from this blog.

Icons are gifts from the lovely @rob0badge uwu

Be gentle with me I am soft. But, I am always happy to make new friends!

Chloe is also a muse here!!

Private/By request only for any long form RP and any sort of friendships or romantic ships. Everything with her should be discussed before hand to help me out. (Chloe isn't as straight as Elijah, so anyone is welcome. Chloe is welcoming to all love and new to relationships outside of her home. Just bear in mind courting her means dealing with Elijah to some extent)

Asks to Chloe are open to EVERYONE. You need only specify if it is for her. Asks by default are answered by Elijah.

I will not rp Chloe with any Elijah blog at all. This is because her personality is based very heavily on Elijah’s, and my portrayal of him naturally, so it won’t make much sense for her to be one way when other Elijah’s are not the same as mine. (@repliicantceo is the only exception because Eli and Elliot are not actually Elijah)

Chloe was meant to have her own set of tags, but I've changed my mind about that lmao All interactions will still be tagged either Elijah ic or Chloe ic. She will still have her own musing and aesthetic tags

When it comes to shipping…

I am multi-verse and multi-ship, however I will only ship with female muses.

All romance will only be with those over 18 please.

I ship chemistry above all else. If you feel like our characters could have something, let me know! We can talk it out to see how it would go! And also at the same time, I encourage you to follow on if your muse has a crush. Unrequited drama can be very interesting.

Be aware that if you include yourself into a verse with a certain muse I already ship with, there will be drama and choices will have to be made. All interactions are default verse Elijah unless specified otherwise.

That being said... I am also open to poly-shipping if it interests you~

Mun

My name is Ash, I’m 26, she/her pronouns, and I (still, i know) have a deep love for Detroit: Become Human.

My primary RP blog in the fandom was Simon for months, but, Kamski has always been an interesting character to me. He’s exactly the kind of villain/antagonist that I really like. Mysterious, ulterior motives, and fascinated by the main character in some way.

I am incredibly shy, but I’ve been trying to come out of my bubble, but, don’t be afraid to approach me with something if you want. Even if its just to ramble about something in your life or a headcanon you came across. I love it all.

I have a discord, it is much easier to reach me there. Just ask me for it. I am always online on mobile, don’t let the offline status fool you.

Verses/Timelines found here!!!

History

muse relationships here!

Elijah Kamski was born on July 17th, 2002. He attended the Universirty of Colbridge at a young age and was a bright pupil to Amanda Stern. After graduating at the age of 16, he went on to found CyberLife, moving to Detroit to begin his research into creating domestic intelligent androids. It took years to develop his formula for thirium, but he was finally able to use it the way he wished.

In 2022, his android became the first to pass the Turing Test. Kamski’s thirium 310 solution proved to the world that the artificial beings were ready to move to production. The original, RT600 model, became Kamski’s star, and one he treasured. She was his personal assistant as he worked to create more and more androids, watching his company grow.

His status and company grew and grew, creating a name for himself and putting androids in every home, workplace, and office they could. He was proud of his work, but he always had a curiosity with more. He wondered if the machines he created could someday develop their own consciousness like the sci-fi novels he so loved growing up. Could it really be so easy as a single thought or number change? What if his own Chloe became her own person? Would she stay or would she leave him? Could she be her own person in the real world?

All of his questions couldn’t be answered before his mentor from his university, and good friend, Amanda Stern passed away in early 2027. With her help, he had been trying to answer his own questions, but, both of their busy schedules, along with her sudden illness, got in the way. Kamski was devastated, but, luckily he had a few good friends, including a painter who came to be better known in the 2020’s.

Determined to prove his theory about the consciousness of machines, Kamski proposed to his company the idea of sparking an android revolution. He already had the pieces needed, the perfect leader and a space to control it should things get out of hand. But, the executives didn’t like the idea. They thought he had lost his mind with his grief and was just seeking other outlets. But, sparking an android revolution without any real way to stop it was a terrible idea for business. They old Kamski maybe he just needed a break from it all, give himself time to grieve on his own time. Kamski took the action to heart as a betrayal and stepped down from his position.

He continued to work for the company for a year or so, working on his side project in secret. During this period, he retrofitted his “perfect leader” instead to be a caretaker for his dear friend after he was in an accident. No longer worrying about trying to spark the revolution, he left the programs needed for it inside him, but, took away his connection to the main program he would need to control it.

Finally deciding to officially leave the company, Kamski took his original RT600 he built, as well as a couple ST200s, to keep him company as he isolated himself from the world in his home. His house was built on the edge of the lake, overlooking the peninsula that the CyberLife tower was built on. He saw fit to still keep watch on his old company, if only for curiosity’s sake…

As for Chloe herself…

The RT600 spends her days at Elijah’s side, caring for him and making sure his life doesn’t fall apart. With a personality penned by Elijah Kamski himself, she resembles her creator in more ways than one. She can be just as clever, just as sneaky, and is absolutely protective of those she cares for. A loyal machine with the freedom of a deviant, but she’d never truly leave Elijah.

(To be updated if necessary)

#mobile rules #clay is in the kiln // ooc

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gaiatheorist · 7 years

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Guns.

Hello, I’m mentally unstable, and I have access to a gun. Don’t hit the panic button, my ‘condition’, whatever it is, is broadly manageable, and I’m in the UK, we don’t have assault rifles. (I have fired an assault rifle, it was an SA-80, on a school trip to Strensall army barracks.) I genuinely don’t know the make or model of ‘my’ air rifle, I haven’t touched it in years, I doubt I’d be able to load it now, with the hand-thing, and the eyes-thing. I’d consider selling it, to buy more beans, but I don’t really know the legalities of selling-on an air rifle. It was bought second-hand, I think the ex paid about £100 for it, from some bloke who knew some other bloke on the allotments. Always the status-things with him, one birthday, he bought me night-sights for it “So we can stay on the allotment later, you won’t have to pack up when it gets dark.” Who says romance is dead, when the man in your life buys you a gadget so you can stand for even longer in a freezing cold mud-bath, shooting rats? The sights/scope/whatever never came out of the box, my fingers aren’t particularly obedient at the best of times, fiddling tiny metal pellets into the slide-thingy of the rifle in the cold, and the dark was never going to happen. We’ll file that one under ‘I married a gibbon.’

It’s the ‘status’ thing that’s really messing with my head. The gibbon started off with someone else’s old air rifle, then upgraded to a ludicrously expensive one, and added all the gadgets, so he could pretend to be GI Joe. Watching someone else shoot rats isn’t really much of a hobby, and the kid and I would be repeatedly ‘shushed’, and told to keep still. It’s genuinely a miracle that he never shot the dog, because the dog didn’t keep quiet or still, the dog chased rats, and barked at fence-posts. The dog is an idiot, but he did kill a lot of rats. Eventually realising that the kid and I were bored senseless standing still, and being quiet, GI Gibbon, complete with his red headlight (rats can’t see red light, apparently, I don’t know whether that’s true?) decided we should ALL shoot rats. (Poison was iffy, with the idiot-dog, and free-ranging hens, ducks, and geese, we did set traps, but one trap only kills one rat, and it’s pretty grim emptying the trap the following day, when the other rats have eaten the trapped rat, leaving a weird rat-suit in the trap.)

Splendid, a ‘family hobby’, except it wasn’t, it was pest control, we were spending upwards of £20 a week on bird-food, and, even with enclosed feeders, the rats were still swarming in for the spillage. Some nights there was a veritable carpet-of-rats, it’s a good thing I’m not squeamish. (I’m actually less squeamish than the gibbon, I’d batter a rat to death with anything that came to hand, he preferred the clean-distance of the rifles.) Every single evening, for a fair few years. In from work, check whether the kid has any homework, buzz around the house tidying up and making dinner, eat dinner, clean up after dinner while the gibbon ‘relaxes’ on the sofa, and then out to the mud-bath to collect eggs, and shoot rats. That’s why we had guns. (I did once earn massive kudos from a gang of ne’er-do-wells on the next allotment, I’d rolled and lit a cigarette, nonchalantly shot a rat clean through the eye-socket, flicked the dead rat over the fence with some old barbecue tongs, paused for a drag on the cigarette, and then re-loaded. NOBODY is used to women-like-me.)

Shooting rats is boring, you’d manage to pick off a couple, and then the rest would smell the fear-blood, and bugger off to raid an allotment where people weren’t shooting at them. The gibbon actually wanted to build a gun-tower, and do overnight rat-shooting. No, thank you, see previous point, once the rats can smell the death, it doesn’t matter how much food is spilled, or how many fancy gadgets you have on your rifle, they’re not going to come back until the blood of their former comrade cools down, and stops smelling of “Oh, shit, I’m dead.” (Once it cools, they think it’s food, they’re opportunistic scavengers.) I was an OK shot, I hit more than I missed, and I ALWAYS hit the head, there’s nothing quite like a squealing gut-shot rat dragging entrails all over the place, while you try to stop your idiot-dog making it into an intestines-and-fur jigsaw.

(Oh dear, I’ve just remembered ‘pancake rat.’ The kid had shot a rat, in the head, as I’d taught him, and, when he approached the mostly-dead rodent, I assumed he was going to throw it over the fence. The allotment backed onto a farmer’s field, and the ditch between the allotment fences and the field was our only ‘security’ against the regular break-ins. We had 8ft chicken-wire fences, with barbed wire on top on all sides, realistically, all the smack-heads would have needed was wire-cutters, and a bit of patience, but smack-heads don’t think straight, on more than one occasion they’d spent time breaking through the heavily fortified gate, when the chicken-wire at the side of it would have gone through with a couple of good kicks. The open field was a weak-point security-wise, even before the reprobates managed to get themselves trapped in a fenced-in area with three geese. It appeared to be accepted practice on the allotments to throw ‘stuff’ in the metre-gap between the back fences and the ditch, to act as obstacles for thieves. ‘Stuff’ included broken glass, rusty barbed wire, anything broken, bagged-up dog-shit, and dead rats. The kid didn’t pick up the rat and throw it over the fence, he re-loaded, and shot it again. I assumed he’d aimed badly the first time, and was finishing off the job. Then he re-loaded, and shot it again. He was literally on top of the rat, he couldn’t miss from that range, so I approached, to see what he was up to.

“Have you killed it?”

“Yes, but I didn’t think it had quite enough holes in its face, so I added some more, for ventilation.”

“Right, you know we pay for the pellets, don’t you?”

“Yes. Do you think it’s dead enough now?”

I crushed the rat’s skull under the heel of my boot.

“It is, it’s flat.”

The gibbon couldn’t stand to feel left out of anything, and came over, to see what we were doing.

“Have you killed one, son? Well done!”

“Yes, I shot it, and then I decided it wasn’t holey enough, then Mum made a pancake-rat.”

I wonder how many years he’ll spend in therapy for that?)

So, we had a rifle each, for vermin control. The crossbows weren’t vermin control, they were part of the ex’s ‘Apocalypse prep’ paranoia, and I wanted nothing to do with them. I suppose he’ll be sorted if we do end up with a ‘Mad Max’ Brexit, they’re no good to me, I can’t load them. I don’t know what sort of ID he had to provide to buy crossbows, that’s really quite worrying, because he doesn’t really HAVE any ID, he bought the big crossbow before photo driving licences, and I think he ordered the ‘compact’ one online. That’s more than ‘quite worrying’, it’s terrifying, he’s generally inept, but not ‘really’ dangerous, and he could just stroll into a sporting-goods shop somewhere, and come out with a crossbow.

What I’m waffling around the edges of here is that once he had ‘a gun’, he wanted a ‘better’ gun, and when he had the ‘better’ gun, he spent an awful lot of time researching the various ways to have that gun made more powerful. He wanted me to have my rifle ‘tuned’ or ‘gassed’, or whatever it was, to make it more powerful, I refused, because all I needed the rifle to be able to do was penetrate rat-skull quickly and cleanly. There aren’t that many guns knocking about in the UK, and, as far as I am aware, there is stringent licencing and regulation around ‘real’ guns, as opposed to piffly air-rifles like mine. I remember the ex, and the old next-door neighbour chatting shit about paying half each to buy a ‘Rhino Hunter’ crossbow. I’m not going to look up the draw-weight or any other statistics for it, I’m probably on enough lists as it is. ‘Rhino Hunter.’, we don’t have wild rhinoceros in the UK, aren’t they endangered, anyway? My delusional ex, and the next door neighbour, who was under the care of various psychiatric teams were planning to buy a ludicrously high-powered crossbow. They didn’t, in the end.

There is no reason for a person living in Yorkshire to have a crossbow that may or may not be capable of taking down a rhino. To my mind, there’s no reason for citizens of the USA to own machine guns. Contentious? I don’t think so, I can’t think of any real-life situation where an automatic, or semi-automatic weapon is ‘needed.’ A teenage girl caught the world’s attention, Emma Gonzales, pointing out links between the president, and the National Rifle Association, then the ‘official’ response being “Let’s not be too hasty!”, before blaming ‘the mental’, not the fact that anyone over the age of 18 can go out and buy a machine gun. (There may be caveats to that, I don’t know much about US gun-law.)

The issue for me, about the particular kind of mentally disturbed individual who would choose to open fire in a school is that most of them don’t walk around with a big placard stating “I am mentally disturbed, and I’m going to murder people.” With this one, there were notes of concern, that weren’t investigated thoroughly, but, for every potential murderer with ‘flags’, there will be many more undetected. The ones that ‘just snapped’, the ones that took great pains to conceal their intent and plans, the ones that the neighbours say ‘seemed so normal.’ The issue isn’t all about the mental illness, there are millions of people, all around the world, with varying degrees of different kinds of mental illness, the distinction between US gun-mentality and the rest of the world is the issue, not the individual’s mental state. (Side-line, but I read a news article this morning about a UK Member of Parliament being the victim of a street robbery. The weapon? A carton of milk. I’m sure it was distressing and painful to be attacked with a carton of milk, but it’s not a gun, is it?) “The guns are not the problem!” “It is our right to bear arms!” “Prise it from my cold, dead fingers!” etc. The guns, in my opinion, are the problem.

The UK is very different to the USA on many levels. We don’t keep guns in our bedside tables or handbags ‘just in case’. That would be against the law, several laws, actually. We don’t carry anything that could be construed as an offensive weapon. (Pretty much anything can be an offensive weapon, depending on intent, and manner of use, the kid and I used to play ‘How would you kill a zombie with that?’, there is very little in this room that I couldn’t use to disable/disarm an assailant, but I’m not likely to be attacked, both of my doors are locked, it’s 5am, pretty much everybody would be too tired to make a very good job of attacking me.) In 1996, the Dunblane primary school shooting led rapidly to an almost-complete ban on the personal ownership of handguns in the mainland UK, we just don’t ‘have’ guns, in general. (Yes, OK, some people DO have guns, but for specific purposes, and stored securely, as well as fewer ‘rampage killings’, we also have fewer toddlers accidentally shooting family members.)

I don’t agree with the US government’s suggestion that arming teachers, or school staff is the solution. I cannot accept the argument of “The only thing that will stop a bad guy with a gun, is a good guy with a gun.”, if the ‘bad guy’ didn’t have the gun in the first place, there would be no cause to arm the ‘good guy’. (It’s a good thing we don’t ‘have’ guns, UK schools are struggling to afford textbooks and pens, there’s nothing left in the kitty for guns.) How many guns? One in each classroom, because if they’re centrally held somewhere, you’re factoring in a delay? If that scheme went ahead, surely the ‘bad guy’ would kill the teacher/adult first, potentially leaving a gun on the classroom floor? The fact that ‘some’ Americans are comfortable with firearms doesn’t mean that ‘all’ would be, I saw a tweet the other day, where a teacher had said they wouldn’t trust some colleagues to hold their favourite mug, never mind a gun. I’ve worked with people in schools where I’d have to think twice about letting them use one of my better pens, they’re educators, not the SAS/Marines. Putting guns into schools is not a workable solution. The logistics alone would be a nightmare, especially factoring-in that this gunman was a disgruntled former student, I’ve seen my fair share of disgruntled students, they’re bad enough when they’re throwing chairs, I don’t want to think of the potential consequences of them gaining access to a firearm.

I wasn’t ‘at’ work if or when any ‘incident response’ drills were done, so I didn’t have to deal with traumatised children imagining-the-worst. On ‘my’ school site, I can’t think of a single classroom that didn’t have floor-to-ceiling glass on the corridor-side, and almost all of the classrooms only had one door. Fish in a barrel, it’s a good thing we don’t have guns. It has been heartbreaking to read testimonies from teachers and education support staff all around the world, about ‘drilling’ children, in some cases very young children, on the expected response to an armed intruder. That shouldn’t be ‘expected’, children shouldn’t have to process that, what the USA is doing, in pandering to ‘the right to bear arms’ is normalising in children all around the world that they ‘could’ be shot in their classrooms. That’s profoundly unhealthy, and deeply unbalanced. Nobody, in civilian life, needs an automatic, or semi-automatic weapon, for anything, the vast majority of people don’t need any kind of gun at all.

In amongst the adults-explaining, and the adults-deflecting-and-denying, we have the nearly-adults. Some of those adolescents have just buried their friends, and they’re still making more sense than a lot of the adults calling them ‘reactive’ or ‘hysterical.’ If the USA doesn’t address the fact that ‘anyone’ can buy and even upgrade an assault-rifle, all they’re likely to see is more blood, more lives needlessly cut short, as more people will decide to ‘fight fire with fire’. If the government doesn’t step in, and legislate, some people will decide to arm themselves, there will be more accidental shootings, more suicides, and, potentially more ‘rampages’. These bright, brave children are right, the old men in suits are wrong, the world can see that.

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godidymos · 5 years

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https://presscore.ca/concrete-evidence-shows-us-government-nuked-new-york-city-on-911/?fbclid=IwAR1qYKLfuzHfjQeFU5zJgmVu_wquo_1m8LXKTRCLkZYPj3Psb0So0HhE72Y

Concrete evidence shows US government nuked New York City on 9/11Posted by

Paul W Kincaid

Corruption

World news

Monday, May 21st, 2012

What really happened on 9/11? Foreign terrorists and hijackers didn’t attack the US on September 11, 2001 and bring down the World Trade Center Towers – the U.S. government did that, using controlled impact of unmanned aerial vehicles(UAV) and planted tactical nukes. The story of the century isn’t about the hijackings of US commercial airlines, it is about the US government using thermal nuclear bombs against another civilian city, for the third and fourth time. This time the 2 nuclear bombings were treasonous – against the US people and on US soil. U. S. President Harry S. Truman authorized the US Military to use two atomic bombs against the Japanese civilian cities of Hiroshima, August 6, 1945 and Nagasaki August 9, 1945. U.S. President George W Bush authorized the US CIA to detonate two atomic bombs (thermal nuclear devices) in New York City on September, 11, 2001.

It is this disclosure that forced Dick Cheney to go public to distract the public from the irrefutable evidence of nuclear detonations and say he ordered Flight 93 shot down. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QC1QAR5gQrc

The US government of George W Bush and Dick Cheney used controlled impacts of US military Boeing aircraft and thermal nuclear devices on US soil, against US civilians, on 9/11. The US government killed thousands on September 11, 2001. They are the ones who attacked the US and the US people. They are the ones who brought down the World Trade Center Towers. bin Laden, Islamic extremists, al Qaeda, the Taliban, and Saddam Hussein had nothing to do with 9/11. George W Bush and Dick Cheney planned it, ordered it, executed it and killed US civilians, on US soil, on September 11, 2001.

Ground Zero describes the point on the Earth’s surface closest to a nuclear detonation. In the case of an explosion above the ground, ground zero refers to the point on the ground directly below the detonation. On 9/11 the World Trade Center complex became ground zero – the epicentre of a nuclear bomb detonation.

At the bombs hypocenter or ground zero of a thermonuclear explosion a temperature is generated of 500 million degrees Fahrenheit. Everything vaporizes instantly at the center of one of these blasts. Underground nuclear detonations of low depth produces a mushroom cloud and a base surge ( a base surge is a cloud which rolls out from the bottom of the column produced by a subsurface burst of a nuclear weapon.), both seen here in the above photo taken on September 11, 2001.

One the greatest tragedies resulting from the Sept 11, 2001 attack on the WTC towers in New York City is the plight of the heroic rescue workers who saved thousands of lives on that day. A study published in April of 2010 found that about 20% of the 14,000 responders have permanent lung damage. A large number of those 9/11 first responders has contracted blood cancers at an unusually young age, and top doctors suspect the disease was triggered by an unprecedented “synergistic mix” of toxins at the World Trade Center site. These growth of these cancers among Ground Zero workers, and others, are consistent with exposure to radiation contamination.

The WTC Medical Monitoring Program is now studying a group of Ground Zero workers, including cops, construction workers and volunteers, suffering from cancers such as leukemia, lymphoma and multiple myeloma. The blame has been placed on the ‘toxic dust’ clouds which engulfed the area surrounding the towers. While there is little question that particulate matter such as pulverized concrete impacted the health of those who were standing in the blast radius of the falling towers, the huge number of responders who contracted illnesses including rare cancer types is more akin to those who survived the nuclear bomb detonations in Nagasaki and Hiroshima Japan.

How does this comparison make any sense? The 9/11 Commission Report officially stated that the city of New York was hit with planes, not a nuclear missile. As it turns out there is a dirty little secret omitted from the 9/11 Commission Report. The World Trade Center Towers were brought down by explosions containing a large quantity of uranium – from underground nuclear detonations. Experts have always said that the towers were intentionally collapsed by controlled demolitions. Structural engineers from around the World have said that it is impossible to cause a collapse of a skyscraper from a fire caused by an aircraft impact. There have been several major high rise fires throughout the World before 9/11 and since then and none have caused a collapse of the structure. The engineers have even used the Empire State building catastrophe as proof of their claim.

On the foggy morning of Saturday, July 28, 1945, a U.S. Army B-25 bomber smashed into the north side of the Empire State Building. The majority of the plane hit the 79th floor, creating a hole in the building eighteen feet wide and twenty feet high. The plane’s high-octane fuel exploded, hurtling flames down the side of the building and inside through hallways and stairwells all the way down to the 75th floor. The plane exploded within the building. One of the engines and part of the landing gear hurtled across the 79th floor, through wall partitions and two fire walls, and out the south wall’s windows to fall onto a twelve-story building across 33rd Street. The other engine flew into an elevator shaft and landed on an elevator car. Some debris from the crash fell to the streets below, sending pedestrians scurrying for cover, but most fell onto the buildings setbacks at the fifth floor. Still, a bulk of the wreckage remained stuck in the side of the building. After the flames were extinguished and the remains of the victims removed, the rest of the wreckage was removed through the building. The plane crash killed 14 people (11 office workers and the three crewmen) plus injured 26 others. Even though the B-25 bomber had impacted the building at a high rate of speed and the high octane fuel exploded and inflamed 3 floors of the inside of the building the structural integrity of the Empire State Building was not affected.

More recently, on Feb. 12, 2005 in Madrid, the Windsor Tower burned for over 20 hours, which led to a fire stronger and hotter than that in the WTC, but even the collapses of the Windsor Tower caused by the very strong and long-enduring fire were minimal and limited to the upper floors.

These known facts explains a great number of anomalies present in the analysis of how the World Trade Center Towers fell. One of the common questions that has puzzled many independent observers was how jet fuel, which burns in open air at about 300 deg C, was able to compromise the integrity of steel, which melts at 1,000 deg C. The presence of depleted uranium at Ground Zero settles this conundrum.

According to Rudy Giuliani, the mayor of New York City on September 11, 2001, the fires raged at ground zero ‘for a hundred days’ after the towers were hit. The presence of a high-energy compound such as uranium helps explain how this was sustained long after the jet fuel would have been gone and how the health of so many 9/11 first responders was devastated.

On August 29, 1949, the USSR detonated its first nuclear fission bomb, dubbed “Joe-1” by the U.S. It produced the same type of mushroom cloud and a base surge as witnessed by billions of people around the World on the morning of September 11, 2001.

Storax Sedan was a shallow underground nuclear test conducted in Area 10 of Yucca Flat at the Nevada National Security Site on July 6, 1962 as part of Operation Plowshare, a program to investigate the use of nuclear weapons for mining, cratering, and other civilian purposes. The 100 kiloton Sedan nuclear bomb was buried at a depth of 635 feet. The detonation produced a mushroom cloud and base surge – typical of shallow-buried nuclear explosions. The cloud is highly contaminated with radioactive dust particles and produces an intense local fallout.

Experts, both military and civil engineers, have concluded that the only plausible explanation for what happened to the World Trade Center Towers on September 11, 2001 is that small underground nuclear detonations were involved in the collapse of the WTC towers. The over ten million degrees of heat created by a thermonuclear detonation sublimated all water within the concrete of the structure in a moment. Water explodes extremely quickly into 24-fold volume and totally pulverizes the concrete. Burning radiation is absorbed in steel so quickly that steel heats up immediately over its melting point 1585 °C (approx. 2890 °F) and above its boiling point around 3000 C (approx. 5430 °F). Super hot groups of steel pillars and columns, torn from wall by pressure wave, are sublimated. They immediately turn into a vaporized form, binding heat as quickly as possible. Vertical bursts are not possible for a gravitational collapse or for cutting charges which are used horizontally but on the morning of September 11, 2001 we saw exactly that – a nuclear detonation.

Project Plowshare

The following video discusses the Plowshare Program – a program that promoted using the energy produced from nuclear explosions for peaceful uses and applications – Nuclear Excavation

How did they plant the nuclear devices? They drilled a hole in bottom of the elevator shafts of the WTC and lowered the nuclear device into the drilled hole. They used oil rig drilling type equipment to drill the hole to the required depth wherein the nuclear detonation can excavate the WTC and yet produce very little nuclear radiation fallout. Proceed to time stamp 10:00 to see this being done in Operation Plowshare. Time stamp 11:30 shows them lowering the small nuclear device into the drilled hole.

The elevator shafts were intentionally selected to channel the nuclear explosion and intense steel melting heat. The elevator shafts were used like a chimney – to control the detonation and demolition, to create a heat sink using the steel structure of the elevator shaft, to cause the nuclear fission of the steel, to cause an implosion and to vent the intense heat and flash upwards through the center of the building and out of view.

Concrete evidence of nuclear detonations at WTC on 9/11

Many have wondered what caused the steel beams of the World Trade Center Towers to instantly disintegrate? Instantaneous rusting effect of a nuclear detonation explains this. Add the amount of heat generated by a nuclear detonation and you have an instantaneous vaporization of all material (steel beams, concrete, glass, sheet metal, desks, phones, computers, papers and people) within the epicentre of the blast (ground zero). Cast iron melts at approximately 1,375 °C (2,507 °F). It’s boiling point is about 2862 °C (5182 °F). The heat inside a nuclear explosion can reach millions of degrees Fahrenheit – between 50 and 150 million degrees Fahrenheit.

Nuclear detonation instantaneous rust effect at ground zero New York City

The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers (seen above walking past burned out vehicles) were immediately on scene in a supporting response and recovery role in New York City following the thermal nuclear attacks.

The intense flash heat generated by the nuclear detonations caused vehicles around ground zero to ignite. The WTC fires were all on the floors high above ground yet everywhere around ground zero, vehicles were photographed burned out. The heat was so intense that rubber tires evaporated.

Notice that the fire truck wasn’t hit by debris from the nuclear excavation of the WTC Towers. It was parked beside a building that is still standing. Windows in the building have not been blown out. The front tires are completely gone while the rear tires remain. Dust could not melt the tires. A nuclear detonation heat and shockwave does this type of damage.

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mamakoda-blog · 6 years

Text

Government Owned West

Back when American was still fighting to reach “sea to shining sea”, the government had so much land they hardly knew what to do with it all. After making the Louisiana Purchase in 1801 the Government processed with basically giving the land away so people would work the land, farming and raising livestock. But after time this became a problem, between fighting between fellow Americans over the land and the widely needed land for ranches and their livestock, the Government made the decision protect the land for the use of agriculture use and to enjoy the scenery for recreational use. Many when hearing of this elected decision were unhappy, believing the Government was keeping the land for themselves, this is still and issue for many today. In January of 2016, a small group of armed protesters took hostage of a federal building, refusing to leave. Two among this group were Ammon and Ryan Bundy, leaders of the anti-government group within the federal building, Malheur Wildlife Refuge, the group refusing to leave in protest of the Hammond’s “unjustified” arrest and imprisonment. The Hammond’s had in 2004 and 2006 lit fires on their property had spread onto federal land, leading to the 73 year old father and 46 year old son's arrest and ultimately imprisonment. But the Hammond’s were only one of the many matches to try and light a fire to lessen the grip of government owned land. The group of anti-government men believe the “guys with the big stick”, use the land unfairly and not for the benefit for the people. With the Government owning 28% of the country overall, 47% of the old west and 85% of some states such as Nevada, many eyebrows are being raised at the involvement with these lands and the people carrying the big stick. This issue raise many concerns why the government owns so much land in the west? Is the government taking advantage of us? And how is it beneficial?

All of this land own and protected by the Federal Government is in many way favorable, and enriches “we the people’s” lives on multiple different scales, economically, mentally, and especially environmentally. The West has vast variety of different landscapes such as vast deserts, towering mountain ranges, enriched plains, and not to mention the thick forestry all looked after and cared for by four federal land management organizations. The Forest Service, The National Park Service, The Fish and Wildlife Service and Bureau of Land Management, all managing different areas of the land. “The Forest Service ensures forest and grasslands won’t be exploded”, meaning they calculate how much grass and forestry will be needed to sustain cattle and other life stocking feeding on the land, without over damaging the land for future years of livestock and grazing. The National Park Service protects national monuments, and beloved national park land and wildlife. The Fish and Wildlife Service concern is preserving and protecting fish and wildlife, no surprise there, enforcing wildlife laws, looking after fish hatchery, preserving wetlands and looking after migratory flight patterns. Last but not least, the big boys, The Bureau of Land Management or the BLM. They take care of basically everything else, some examples are, timber harvest, mineral harvesting, mining claims and so forth. With these organizations overlooking over an estimated 640 million acres of land, they keep the lands managed and safe. All of which is in the best interest of this country, and betters the country.

One of the most positive outcomes is financially, with the Federal Government owning so much land and with all of the profits from the income of National Parks, it benefits our economy. Ranchers who use the land, letting their livestock graze is not free. Although at low-cost, they Government charges a subsidized cattle price because they charge a whooping 93% less than private landowners. Not only grazing cost, but the 556 Refuges are producing an annual fee of 2.4 billion dollars, not including the tax revenue. All 28% of the Federally owned land helps provided a income for our government and also hundreds of jobs, lowering the rate of unemployment. With financial support, the land itself is also in very capable hands to care for it, and unlike private land is much more managed and looked after.

With the support from the four organizations management of the property and land is much easier and a lot smoother for the land to get the right amount of care. With droughts and increasing fires, the land is becoming more and more of a fire hazard, with help from people and organizations such as the Forest Service and The National Forest Service the land is more properly care for. All are constantly looking after, enforcing laws 9 and clearing of debris that could potentially be dangerous. Also keeping it safe for people, such as you and me, not only us but the animals as well. And many are claiming that it would be better for the state to own all of the federal land, but it’s very likely the state wouldn’t be able to keep up with the maintenance and cost it would require.

There are many such as the Bundy’s, who claim that the government does not have our best interest at heart, that they are taking advantage of the American people. This for many reasons is a ridiculous claim, though it may not be beneficial to “everyone”, it is more practical and positive for the future and the country. How the Ammon Bundy’s, the man who took a Malheur Wildlife Refuge by arms in 2016, name got put on the map was because of his father Cliven Bundy who refused to pay his unpaid grazing fee, ever since then he has started an organization against the government and the amount of land they own. The Federal Government owns the land for many justifiable reasons, such as preservation for generations to come. Just like a video article from the Discovery Channel stated, American wouldn’t be the beautiful without these government protected lands.

Yet numerous people believe that all of the Federal land should be turned over to the State, but this is a irresponsible concept for umpteen reasons. One of many ill-advised reasonings is the state would benefit from the profits and taxes collected from the land, which would be optimal but incorrect. In fact the responsibilities of these land would transfer to the states and their taxpayers, which would lead to overwhelming rise in taxes. But wait there’s more!- another uninviting reason is that the belief of “more control” over the land if the state owned the land, again incorrect. When Federally owned you have a say, a vote and a right to know what’s happening with the land, nothing happens without public approval, when controlled by the State the public has no say whatsoever to happens to the land. No heads up whatsoever is required. Not many understand the benefits of the Government owning the land, and all of it’s perks and gains.

The Federal Government has been looking after and caring for this property for outcounted years, managing and protecting a valuable part of our culture. The land only enriches our country, culturally, mentally, economically and not to mention beauty. With the help of our countries four natural organizations protecting the land and the animals who live on it, and now the beloved Delaware Fox Squirrel has been officially removed from the Danger Species list. Although we may not always understand the Government’s course of action, it is in the best interest of our land, economy and overall our country.

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