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#at any given time i am thinking about vt
kirbydaily · 1 year
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you could've been me
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gatalentan · 1 year
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had a nap. am not hungover despite the tequila. final eurovision thoughts roundup in order before i shift back into abbott mode:
juries need to be reworked. its been known for many years at this stage and we can no longer pretend 5 people is a representative sample worth the same weight as the thousands per country who vote. if you tried to use 5 people as a representative sample in any other scenario you'd get laughed out of the room. they aren't eurovision experts, they're not like the panel at a gymnastics competition or something, they're just complete music industry randoms. when the two boards are this disprate it is stark evidence that the juries do not represent the music taste of the country and are given too much weight compared to the thousands of votes. it's like we watched two completely different shows. they're out of touch, corruptable, and value "art value" (ballads) over what the viewing public actually values (being entertained on the entertainment show). it does not prevent bloc/diaspora voting because the juries do that just as much if not more, as we saw last year with the jury corruption scandal. it's just last year they got caught. this may be the straw that broke the camels back with the juries and i hope it is.
käärijä would not have won with the old combined system because despite getting more 12s in the public than loreen, he received so many low jury scores whereas loreen conversely received many 10s from the public. he would have won if we only had the public vote, and with a historic 2nd highest score ever tied with Sobral. it's unmistakably the juries that are the issue.
i'm happy loreen won, that's my girl, but i would have been just as happy for käärijä to win, too. i would have prefered käärijä to have won than this outcome, however, because her win is now tainted forever and will not be seen as legitimate by such a large swathe of eurofans. the amount of vitriol i'm seeing towards her, as if she manufactured this outcome, is making me so angry. as if she's the first winner to ever return, as if there isn't decades of precedent for it. her returning isn't new or special, and she was chosen by the voting public of her country in one of the most rigorous pre-esc contests, melodifestivalen. she wasn't chosen by internal selection for gimmick reasons, like the uk sending a tiktok celebrity to chase clout. so the way the historic first ever double win for a queer woman of colour has been fucked up in such a way due to a broken system is just. not the tea. i really hope she has a good support system around her in the next few weeks because she's going to end up wrongly having to shoulder so much of the blame.
show thoughts:
overall line-up fantastic, so strong I couldn't predict the bottom. a very deserved no-nil year. the fact this line-up was down to public voting rather than jury interference does not escape my notice, either.
flag parade was a really fun time and loved seeing the old guard. a shame ruslana couldnt be there but loved seeing her in the interval vt. loved seeing tina karol also, underrated by everyone except us diehard fags lol.
show was way too uk centric. despite kalush performing the intro video was all about us and our shit celebrities. sam ryder should not have gotten a solo performance and the interval should not have been about liverpudlian acts. even julia's participation was diminished from what we saw in the semis - they should have had her in the green room instead of alesha or hannah if they were going to bring in graham as a 4th. the uk did not win in 2022 and that wasn't highlighted. it was very disrespectful to ukraine's win.
the interval was a poor attempt to piggyback off of Switch Song which i dont think will ever be topped, tbqh. I am, however, so happy Dadi Freyr finally got to perform at a final after two runs that were out of his hands. It was very funny having him perform Atomic Kitten, of all things, however, lmao.
hannah was a phenomenal host in general, one of the best there's been in modern day. similar to nikkie tutorials being a great host, there's a skill to seeming relaxed and open to improvisation that most hosts do not have. comparing her to alesha dixon was night and day. it was comfortable to watch hannah because she was just inviting the audience to have fun with her. graham has this same skill because he does it on his show. other countries should take note of this and choose hosts that aren't just people who can read an autocue but instead people who are light on their feet.
hannah and graham were a fantastic duo in the jury votes, it was the first time in memory where i've enjoyed watching the hosts kiki during it instead of me going wandering around getting drinks or eating. except for hatari they didn't seem stressed about time constraints or miffed about spokespeople going over the way most hosts are and it made for a much more comfortable experience because they were just vibing. it was nice. it was like having friends in the room pulling faces.
the jury rep who said "this was an exciting night for the girls and the gays" absolutely fucking sent me to pluto.
overall i enjoyed the show, one of the most enjoyable there's been, but yeesh. the way this esc may end up being a turning point year is so fucking unfortunate.
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imaginespazzi · 5 months
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Hiya dear bestie,
Ok given recent events, no need to apologize for a delay at all. Totally undertif that required taking some space for a min. In fact, I felt pretty guilty about my timing when just minutes after I submitted the ask I became aware of what happened.
I’m in agreement with you, hard to envision just good pals having a comprable fall out.
Def feel quite awful for Liz too in this case. Going through problems with some kind of a meaningful relationship (and presumably betrayal) then ending your season with a serious injury is an incredytough run of things. Not to mention Liz seems like a decent person. Like you I hope that better days are ahead.
Couldnt help myself with the ending ha, just had to bring in a bit of levity you know.
Lastly, a shoutout to the other VT anon who added to the tea. Appreciate the extra insight and am def here for more should you decide to come back in any fashion. Honestly my mind is trying to process a totally alternate universe where Liz ends the year healthy and they came out following the season :/
My best as always - ☕️
Hi my love <3,
Damn I didn't even think about the injury but poor girl's really been put through it (allegedly of course) this year. Speaking of injury, I thought Georgia's reaction to it was kinda mehh and I've been wondering since then, if something happened between those two but yeah all of this would make sense I guess. Such a shame.
Come back whenever bestie!
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fennecthunderfox · 2 years
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First Update of the Year I Guess
I tend to appear and disappear without warning, so I figured perhaps I should update people on my progress on things and my plans for them. 
First off- I know I complain about this a lot in comic descriptions- but part of the reason why it's been taking me so long to make any kind of art in general is because of mandatory overtime at work. We have been on mandatory overtime for over 2 years at this point. I have been real low-energy because of that. With that fact out of the way, I'm going to try not to talk about it anymore cause I complain too much about it.
  An upcoming blockade to art progress is a wedding (for a family member) and then I'm going to try to get my wisdom teeth out sometime in February. I'll be taking a leave of absence from work during this time, but considering I'll be recovering from a surgery, I don't know if I can be super productive in Feb. Speaking of comics, let's move on to the plans for the comics.
DEFINITELY NOT DELTARUNE:
Defnodel is back to being my top priority... when I actually have time and energy to work on it. I have some amount of determination to finally finish chapter 3 before the end of this year. Which is also along the lines of what I said last year, but never mind all that. I'm somewhat torn on how to do the updates for it. I liked it better when I could draw and post a page Saturday morning after work. I'll see if I can ease myself back into a weekly update schedule once I feel normal after my surgery again.
  VESSELTALE
The problem with Vesseltale right now is that where it's currently paused is the best place to keep it on pause until I can get back into some form of routine with art again. It sucks cause it's been stuck for so long already, but if I did my sporadic updates with VT as I've been doing with Defnodel it may be more annoying to have large gaps in updates. That said I'm open to feedback. If you think any progress is good progress I can try to work on VT in tandem with Defnodel. Defnodel would still take priority, however.
ANIMATICS
I don't think many people follow me for animatics, but I have a lot of ideas in my head. "The Ram Guy" was a fun one to make and I have ideas for other ways to intertwine Distractible audio with Undertale and Deltarune characters. Why? I listen to Distractible at work and imagining someone from the cast raging about a fridge or telling chaotic childhood stories makes work more fun. (I also listen to GO! and am itching to make something from the cricket primer but I'm stuck on who to cast for the roles.)
It's been so long since I've done a music video animatic, but I have plans to do some excerpts of songs at some point and possibly even a full music video. But that's uh... optimistic for me all things considered. I can't even update a comic consistently, so no one expect big animatics. Except for one that I've been trying to make for the UT anniversary for literally 2 years now. Maybe if I had a proper animation program it wouldn't be so difficult (I use fire alpaca and the default windows movie maker for animatics currently).
IN CONCLUSION
I have too many things I WANT to do and not enough dopamine to motivate me to do it. But I haven't given up on anything yet. As of now, I fully intend to continue the comics, animatics, and art in general.
As always I am eternally grateful for everyone's patience with me. Thank you for listening.
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freifraufischer · 2 years
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Mo Huilan, VT, 1996 Olympic Team Optionals
The Apparatus Wants to Kill You: Vaulting History Part 3
In our previous episodes I described why the horse was shaped like... well... a horse and the nightmare fuel that happened in the 1980s as everyone started doing Yurchenko family vaults.  Now it’s time to talk about what everyone loves most about gymnastics:  FIG bureaucracy.  
As early as 1987 there were serious discussions about changing the design of the horse.  You can hear Peter Vidmar discussing it during the ESPN coverage of the 1987 DTB Pokal here.  The concern about the cost of requiring every elite gym all over the world to change their vaults is a very real one.  The sport is already expensive and vaults costs many thousands of dollars.
From an objective point of view it’s understandable that taking that jump because of a vaulting style that hadn’t even been around 6 years before was something that had to be discussed.  
Let’s take the first of many interludes where we explain how women’s vaulting competitions worked as the changes in equipment are being discussed.  In the Seoul Quad during optionals and all around competition women did two vaults and the best score of their two vaults counted.  In event finals they had to do two vaults and the scores would be averaged but those two vaults did not need to be of two different families.  So Svetlana Boginskaya will win the 1988 Olympic vault gold medal with a FTY and a tucked FTY.
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You may think... wait... she did only a full twisting yurchenko vault ... there were people in Seoul doing double twisting yurchenkos.  They were in this final even.  But the FTY and the DTY had the same value.  They were both 10.0 vaults.  This may seem (and was) absurd on it’s face but the reason is actually pretty easy to understand.  The 1988 code of points was written in 1984 when there were less than a dozen women in the world doing a FTY.  It was at the time the code of points was published unquestionably the most difficult and innovated vault being done so it got the maximum starting value.  When the DTY was introduced in 1987 the WTC also assigned it the maximum value but lowering the value of the FTY mid quad would have been unfair to many gymnasts.  Welcome to the inherent flaw of the 10.0 system.
That doesn’t excuse the fact that the FTY and the DTY remained of equal value during the following Olympic quad.  That’s on the WTC.
During the Barcelona quad the structure of doing two vaults and taking the best score during Optionals and the All Around would continue but for event finals they required two different families of vault.  Here is Henrietta Onodi’s 1992 Olympic gold medal winning vaults.
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Now would be a good time to point out that in any given vault final in the 1990s about a third of the competitors really have no business being there.  Remember how you don’t have to show 2 vaults until the event final?  That means that it was very common for people to reach the event final with a very weak (or even non existent) second vault.  As a consequence the FIG made it so that you could scratch one event final and still compete in others you qualified for.  The unstated reason to give those who didn’t really have a competitive second vault a way to avoid the final they didn’t have a chance of winning.
[I have been attacked by Shannon Miller fans in the past for saying that she is the poster child for someone who had no real business in vault finals.  I continue to maintain it.  She made those finals as a great All Around gymnast but her second vault was only ever good enough to medal at the Pan Am Games.]
It’s now 1993 and we return to our main thread.  The FIG Congress decides to do something about the vault which now in an age of double twisting Yurchenkos and having a few years to understand the gravity of the problem orders Dutch equipment maker Janssen-Fritsen to design a new vaulting apparatus.  It would take time to come up with a design that would deal with the safety concerns and help progress the sport.
So I’ll go back to my interlude about tinkering with vault format competition rules.  In the Atlanta quad they finally did away with the idea of taking the higher of two vault scores for the all around, instead requiring two vaults and taking the average, though those two vaults could be the same vault.  I don’t know exactly why this change was made, though it could be the influence of male gymnasts and judges who complained for many years about the best of 2 format.  They finally started adjusting vaulting starting scores and the search for a viable high scoring second vault would be on...
After the Atlanta quad there was a radical change in the WAG code of points which resulted in a drastic lowering of scores and making it much harder to get a high start value.  This was in some ways at it’s most extreme in vault.  I thought it was unreasonable for them to not show two vaults before the event finals?  How about everyone has to do two vaults.  It was extremely difficult for non vault specialists to have two high start value vaults and so vaulting scores plummeted.  The idea of everyone having to do two vaults would thankfully be dropped during the Athens quad.
Two things happened in 1998.  Janssen-Fritsen produced their first prototype of the vaulting table (called the Pegesus ... because ... horses I guess?).  It was delivered to a number of gymnastics training centers around the world including Round Lake.  The second is that the FIG increased the thickness of landing mats (and as a consequence raised the height of the vault for women).  The new vaulting table and changes aimed at improving safety were slow to come but they were finally on the horizon.
Unfortunately not soon enough to save Chinese gymnast Sang Lan from being paralyzed at the 1998 Goodwill Games or prevent the debacle of the mis-set vault at the 2000 Olympic Games.
But sport progression didn’t stop and it’s worth seeing the innovations that were happen still on the old horse.  This is Elena Produnova of Russia at the 1999 University Games doing the best double front vault ever done by a woman.  She would get it named for herself at 1999 Worlds.
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This is Simona Amanar of Romania at the 2000 Olympic Games doing the first 2.5 twisting Yurchenko in competition.  Despite Elfi’s “that’s too bad” at her landing it was enough for it to be named after her.
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In our next episode... the table has arrived and what does that mean for vaulting?
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jotatetsuken · 3 years
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He Left Too Early (Tetsurō Kuroo x Reader)
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Summary: You had a good friend that you'd lost touch with for years on end, and you receive one call about that friend that you were not able to process at all, at least by yourself. You knew that you needed to call someone that would be able to comfort you the most and that someone would be Tetsuro Kuroo.
Warning: Reader's going through an angsty situation (friend's death), there will be fluff, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks and crying. Please lmk if I've missed any other trigger warnings. You can block #shyna angst if it gets too much.
Shyna's Seiyuu Birthday Celebration
Number of words: 1482
Tagging: @akaashi-todorki @cuz-like-why-not @quirrrky @mrskenmakozume @ohtobiors @hyeque @jordyn-degas
Let me know here if you want to be tagged in more content like this :)
A/N: The Seiyuu birthday celebration week is still going on, but, when I wanted to post about Kuroo, it was kind of hard to think about what to write actually. I mean, he may not be my first Haikyuu crush but he definitely was someone that helped me get over a lot of pain from my previous relationships, and reading certain fanfics and headcanons made me fall in love with him, more, to a point where I'd ended up writing my first ever fanfic, dedicated to him. Last year, I'd learned that a good friend of mine passed away from a heart attack and he was 24. I didn't know how else to grieve, I cried and sobbed, and then, this story comes out. So, to be told that I was jumping on the I love Kuroo bandwagon just to copy someone, discredits the personal experience I underwent in loving him and it hurts (long story lol). Anyway, I miss you VT. You left too early. Also, anything related to Haikyuu (the character, the setup) belongs to Haruichi Furudate but the storyline is mine, so reblogs, likes, and comments are highly appreciated <3 This was cross posted from Quotev (attached the link too 😄)
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Barbara: Hey.
Y/N: Oh, hey. What’s up?
Barbara: I don’t know if you heard about Victor?
When someone mentions the phrase, “I don’t know if you heard,” I feel a big sense of numbness in my chest. Because of course, there’s a negative connotation to it. And here, Barbara’s talking about Victor Tyler. My junior in school. Someone I’d called my younger brother. He’d been there through my tough times in high school and had never left my side even when people avoided me. I tried as much as I could to be there for him. In fact, it was him through which I got to know Barbara Boyd, another junior. She was kind and so was he. Their eyes were so full of life and joy that they’d inspire me to keep going in life. I’d last met Victor 4 years ago in a café to catch up with him. He seemed excited about what was coming in the future. I wish I could’ve been there for him more often. But life got busier. Wait? Why am I overthinking again? Surely, it’s because he’s getting married or something…did he?
Y/N: Wait. What happened to him?
No reply. Okay. Something is wrong.
Y/N: Barbara. Tell me. Barbara.
Barbara: He passed away. Last night.
Silence. All I could hear was silence. My ‘baby brother’ was gone. Guilt was seeping in, so was disbelief. This cannot happen. Wasn't he online just a couple of hours ago?  I wasn’t in touch with him for so long. I wish I was.  No, this can’t be happening. Surely this is a joke.
Y/N: Wait. How?! What happened!!?
Barbara: Cardiac arrest.
My brain couldn’t process anything. Guilt was starting to dwell and sadness was trying to find its way in. I needed to know what had happened. Barbara later called to explain the situation and what had happened. She was told that his heart had given away at night. He’d had heart issues for quite some time when he was a kid. (And I barely knew about this, although I could see him struggling with physical exertion even at a young age.) He even underwent surgery and he was slowly recovering. What was more irksome is that he was finally happy in every aspect. He seemed to be settling down in every way. But, he wouldn’t get to experience his happy ending ever. Why is life sometimes so unfair? Barbara had found out through a friend who posted a story on social media and that's when I was slowly starting to come to terms with it. I wanted to be strong for Barbara, so I tried holding my tears. But later on, after hanging up, I immediately called Kuroo ‘cause I needed to hear his voice.
The Tetsurō Kuroo. Yeah, the Nekoma High Volleyball Team captain. Although we’d graduated from different schools and started working in different places, it was quite recently that we started dating. We were getting serious. I was able to share stories about my life and he, about his. We'd experienced a roller coaster of emotions together. And while as a friend and a boyfriend he could get really cheeky with his sense of humor, he always provided a space for me to be vulnerable with him, and he’d not hesitate to be vulnerable with me. Hence, for this moment, I needed to hear him.  I was trying to process it all, but I couldn’t do it alone. I needed him.
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Kuroo: “Hey, kitten. What’s up, everything okay?”
Y/N: “Hey babe, remember I once told you of a close friend from school who was like a younger brother?”
Kuroo: “Oh, yeah. Victor was it?”
Y/N: “Yes, babe. Umm…he...he passed away.”
I could hear a gasp and some sniffles from the other side. Kuroo didn’t know Victor, but he knew my adoration for that boy, and I could tell he was crying. For me. Because I wasn’t able to. I could also hear some noises in the background. Traffic maybe?
“Kitten,” he sniffs, "are you at home?”
“Um, yes. Why?”
“Okay, I'm driving to your place now. Look out from your balcony, in about 10 seconds.”
“Huh-“ I could see in a couple of seconds, that he was there in his car waiting for me to sit next to him. I locked all my bedroom doors except the balcony one and found a way to sneak out and sit on the shotgun seat of his car. It's not that my parents were strict or anything. On the contrary, they were the best support system I could've asked for. However, it was weird that the environment I was in made me feel claustrophobic like I needed air to breathe. So, no sooner than I got to sit in his car than we drove around for some time, stopping at a beach nearby in the night because he knew how much I like the sound of waves.
The car ride was filled with silence mixed with some calming music in the background. Kuroo, initially being his introverted self, was aware of how everyone acted around him and as soon as he came out of his shell, he made it a point to stay attuned to people's emotions, so that he wouldn't lose touch with who he was. This was what made me fall in love with him.
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We parked the car close to the beach. The sound of waves crashing onto the rocks seemed to have a calming effect on me. I looked into Tetsuro’s eyes and there didn’t seem to be any light in them like he always did. They seemed blank, staring into nothingness, but he had to steel himself up for me. His small, warm smile then sent me to tears, as if he was telling me it’s okay to cry. Dang you, Tetsurō Kuroo. He hugged my disheveled self and kept my face on his chest so that I could bury myself in it.
“Babe,” I start to vent out, “he was just a kid. He left this world too early. He didn’t have to die of an effing cardiac arrest. He was..*sniff* so *sniff* young…oh baby, this is so not fair. I wish I could tell him how much I loved him. But all I can say is that I miss him and I’m sorry that I wasn’t in touch with him...I..I..I didn't know he had a girlfriend until *sniff* the day he died. How am I supposed to *sniff* encourage her *sniff* when I am unable to *sniff* come to terms with it *sniff*...I...I.."
“I know, babe. I know. Kitten, I have a feeling he knows even if he’s not here in the world right now. My love, I’m sorry for the pain you’re in. This, however, doesn’t change the fact that there have been instances where you’ve made an impact in his life and he’s made an impact in yours. Focus on that moments. Make him proud. Don’t just tell your baby brother you love and miss him, show him. He’ll receive the message. And as for his girlfriend, if you know her, which you probably do,” Kuroo smiled again as he patted my head with his hand, lifted it, and said, "I know that you'll find a way to comfort her even if she doesn't see it that way. You've experienced loss before, and you will again, but these experiences should make you stronger and help people in need." He brought my face close to him, kissed me on my forehead, and then kissed me on my lips. It was a kiss of sincerity, of protection, of pure love. Something which I was craving for right now. He then hugged me, letting me bury my face in his chest again, as Fix You by Coldplay was playing in the stereo of his car.
“I’ll try, love. I’ll try. Hope you’ll be proud of me, Victor. Someday.”
Victor was one of the boys who knew about my struggles with relationships and I was waiting to tell him about Kuroo, but he was gone. He’d have been proud to know that there was finally someone to be my equal. And the girl that Victor left behind? I can’t imagine what’s going through Hannah’s head and heart. I knew her in school as well, and if I’d get to meet her, I’d offer her a hug and assure her that he’s with her wherever he is. A friend of mine told me this, "There is no right or wrong way to grieve, there's no timeline for grief, and it looks different from day to day." So, I'd tell her to take time to grieve as much as she needs to and I'd offer to be there for her whenever she needed something. That’s the only way she can cope. That’s the only way we can cope. By being there for each other.
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© Shyna 2022
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misssquidtracy · 4 years
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Noble Intentions (Part 3).
The end of my slightly belated contribution to Gordo’s FabFiveFeb week. I finally managed to snap a leash on it before it could breed any more  🙌🏻
All credit for FabFiveFeb goes to the gorgeous @gumnut-logic 💚
Prompt: You did what?
Genre: Humour.
Characters: Gordon & Brains.
Part 1  Part 2
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“Magnificent!” Brains cooed, peering out the window of the Helipod at the forested slopes of Bogota’s Eastern Hills, “What a t-truly remarkable place!”
Gordon smiled and tightened his grip on the yoke, “See, Brains? Wasn’t this worth getting up early for?”
The scientist twisted his head to gaze out the opposing window and peeped in delight when a flock of colourful finches zipped past, “Absolutely! Though while the views are stunning, it’s Dr. Gabriela I’m really looking forward to meeting. I can’t believe she’s one of just a handful of senior ophthalmologists investigating the link between vision restoration and gene t-therapy. I’ve never felt defined by my eyesight, but I’ve always wondered whether a t-technique exists that could reduce my reliance on corrective lenses. I went to a clinic specialising in photorefractive keratectomy and refractive lens exchange a couple of years ago, but nothing ultimately came of it. I’m excited to see if Dr. Gabriela has any suggestions. How lucky for me t-that you were able to get me an appointment at such short notice!”
“Yeah…” Gordon bit his lip and tried to ignore the guilty sensation that was holding his conscious hostage. He’d been up all night researching various scientific phrases he could throw at Brains in an effort to persuade him to tag along to Gabriela’s charity event. While his initial sales pitch had been enough to convince the engineer to abandon tinkering with his hatch deployment actuator, the little reading that Gordon had done on eye health hadn’t prepared him for the barrage of questions Brains had thrown at him.
“Does Dr. Gabriela have access to a VT 3 vision screener? And how up-to-date is her femtosecond laser?”
Sweat started to bead on Gordon’s forehead as he fought the urge to start making words and phrases up, “Oh, everything she uses is top of the range, Brains. Top of the range I say.”
The engineer made a noise of contentment similar to the one he’d made after Scott had given him permission to butcher the stray GDF R.O.BOT that had ended up in Tracy Island’s hanger.
-x-
Five short minutes later, and Gordon was ushering Brains through a pair of automatic doors that led into a gymnasium of sorts. While the scientist was content to admit that he’d never been to a South American country before, the layout of this so-called ‘private clinic’ was definitely not what he’d been expecting.
It wasn’t long before the discomfort of being in unfamiliar surroundings began to eat away at Brains’s composure. Thankfully, he had the ever sociable Gordon for backup, “Is this the w-waiting room?”
“Yeah…kind of,” Gordon replied, waving awkwardly as several people doddered past and began setting up easels, “You know what, let’s save Gabriela some trouble and start getting things ready for her. I know she’s a very busy woman, so any time we can save her will be a win for us.”
A peep of shock forced its way out of Brains’s mouth as he was bundled off towards a corner of the room that was obscured by a curtain of sorts. He’d done some preliminary research on Bogota’s economic health and was aware that the area was seismically sensitive and had suffered extensive infrastructural damage as a result of said seismic activity. Even so, he’d expected something markedly different when Gordon had bleated about how ‘top of the range’ this place supposedly was.
“Okay, you need to strip off,” Gordon instructed, shoving the scientist behind the safety of the curtain before politely turning away, “All new patients have to undergo a full-body CT scan to check for any underlying health conditions. Unfortunately they’re out of gowns, so you’ll have to do it in the buff.”
Any preoccupations Brains had with the decor of his new surroundings flew out the window quicker than Scott on an amphetamine at the bluntness of Gordon’s statement. Stripping off for an invasive procedure was to be expected, but for an eye exam?
Something didn’t add up…
“Oh, and you can’t wear your glasses during the scan either,” Gordon announced, inserting an arm through the curtain and popping the lenses neatly off the engineer’s nose, “Metallic objects can interfere with the final result. Now, chop, chop! Gabriela is waiting.”
Eager to avoid anything that could cause social awkwardness, Brains set about hesitantly disrobing. He’d never had a medical experience quite as…rustic…as this one, but reminded himself that not everyone had access to the same resources and technology they had back on Tracy Island.
Plus, he trusted Gordon.
-x-
“Is he here?” Gabriela asked, clattering towards Gordon like a giraffe on stilts, “Because I’ve got seventy people who’ve paid good money to put a member of International Rescue on their canvases.”
“Relax,” Gordon soothed, jerking his head in the direction of where he’d left Brains, “He’s getting ready now. How long will the whole thing take?”
A cloud of noxiously sweet perfume wafted through the air as Gabriela ran to consult her diary, “The entire class is three hours long, but guests are encouraged to take reference pictures during the first few minutes. Obviously, we can’t expect a model to pose for so long, so we generally ask for them to sit for just the first hour. Most people should have finished subject studying and underpainting by then.”
“He won’t last that long,” Gordon sighed, jolting when John suddenly issued a rescue order for a couple of stranded hikers on the Nepali slope of Everest. Thankfully, Scott picked up the call before enquiries could be made about Gordon’s whereabouts.
“Fifteen minutes, minimum,” Gabriela clinched, aware that her guests were starting to twiddle their brushes in impatience, “I just need him long enough for photos to be taken. I know it sounds tedious, but photographic shots are necessary for shading and contouring. Plus, guests can refer back to them if they don’t finish in the allotted time.”
Caramel eyes narrowed to slits as Gordon calculated the risk of further hoodwinking his blind colleague.
“Okay, fifteen minutes,” the aquanaut affirmed, striding back to where he’d left his charge, “You done yet, Brains?”
“I t-think so,” came the uncertain response, “But how am I going to get to the radiology clinic in t-this condition? Surely it would have made more sense for me to ‘prepare’ myself in the same room as the scanner?”
“Oh, it’s a portable one that can scan you from a distance in any position,” Gordon blabbed, throwing Gabriela a thumbs up as he gripped the curtain and prepared to yank it back, “Top of the range, remember?”
“If you s-say so,” Brains stammered, blinking like a mole that had just emerged into the sunlight, “I t-trust you.”
The hand that was about to rip the curtain back paused, it’s owner reflecting on the depth of the three words that had just been uttered.
Sure, if Scott hadn’t threatened to ground him, then Brains would be back in the safety of his lab and Gordon himself behind the curtain. And the entire event was funding a very worthy cause with numerous far-reaching benefits…
…but was it all worth humiliating a friend over?
Everyone who had the pleasure of meeting Gordon always described him as an uncommonly kind man. He had an almost innate ability to see life through other people’s eyes. Though it was emotionally exhausting at times, it was the driving force behind his desire to make people happy. He soaked up emotions like a sponge, and had learnt over the years that the best way to keep himself light and fluffy was to project as much positive energy into the people around him as possible.
Despite being disoriented and confused, Brains had willingly put a healthy chunk of his dignity into Gordon’s hands. And now his ass was on the line. 
Quite literally.
Gordon sighed. Noble intentions or not, no impulsive decision was worth a friend’s modesty.
“Change of plans, Brains,” the aquanaut informed, “Gabriela’s got an emergency telephone consultation, so has referred you back to your usual guy in Sydney. You can get dressed and come out. I’ve popped your glasses down by your shoes, so don’t tread on them.”
Of course, the life of someone in Gordon’s line of work with Gordon’s personality meant that for every battle won, another was lost. While the moral dilemma over Brains’s involvement in the event was over, there was still the issue of Gabriela and the roomful of impatient artists she’d amassed.
“Hey, Brains? I’m just nipping home real quick. Tell Gabriela I’ll be back within the hour with a fully-fledged International Rescue operative for her…um…thing. This neighbourhood isn’t the safest place on the map, so don’t leave the compound by yourself. See you in a jiffy.”
The partially dressed Brains had less than a second to formulate a reply before Gordon bolted out the door, a metaphorical trail of fire blazing in his wake.
“I really must talk to Scott about a p-pay rise...”
-x-
One hour later…
MAX beeped seductively as he stretched his robotic limbs across the chaise lounge he was sprawled across.
“Draw him like one of your French robots,” Gordon suggested to a dark haired woman who had been studying her easel for several minutes, the hilarity of his own joke causing a snort to break forth. The woman remained impassive, her eyes fixed on the contours of MAX’s storage pod. Titanic references were clearly neither wanted, nor appreciated.
It hadn’t been the event anyone had expected. There had been no naked emergency responders, no naked engineers, and by extension, no naked calendar. Thankfully, MAX’s delight at being asked to participate in a human activity, combined with his enthusiasm for arts and crafts had gone some way towards placating some of the slightly miffed attendees.  
“Well, we hit out target,” Gabriela announced, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “Plus, MAX managed to rake in a fair few tips. That should cover the cost of food for the day.”
A sad series of beeps sounded as MAX dropped his gaze to the floor. He’d hoped to use the human money he’d earnt to buy his own easel, since Virgil was getting tired of him constantly vandalising his. Maybe he could ask Scott to pay him every time he emptied the dishwasher, just like he did with Alan…
“Chin up, MAX!” Gordon cooed, loading as much leftover food into the Helipod’s storage bin as was physically possible, “I’ll pay you twice what you earnt in tips for your time today. How does that sound?”
Brains smiled and self-consciously adjusted his glasses, “Thank you G-Gordon. We both thoroughly enjoyed our time here today. I must say, everyone did an excellent job at capturing MAX’s likeness. I think the canvas I p-purchased will look wonderful next to Kayo’s picture in the lounge. Of course, we’ll have to shift the r-rest of you up a bit to make room.”
Gordon gave a distracted nod around the sandwich he was chewing, his own small reward for a day chock full of hoop jumping.
After watching his creator disappear outside to chat to Gabriela (who was in the middle of a well-deserved smoke break), MAX wheeled over to the bag containing the portrait Brains had bought and carefully extracted it, his eye widening in awe as he drank in the masterful brushstrokes that came together to recreate him.
There was just one thing missing...
...a moustache.
-x-
Present day
"Uh, Gordon?" Virgil's voice was low and gentle, a stark contrast to the shrieks of delight Mandy was emitting, "Do I need to remind you about what happened last time you signed up for something like this?"
Gordon most certainly didn’t need reminding. He still hadn’t fully recovered from the tongue-lashing Scott had given him after discovering the portraits out of whack and MAX’s canvas next to his launch station…or the follow-up tongue-lashing that had come about after he’d learnt the reason behind the portraits being out of whack.
Hopefully an expensive bouquet of flowers on top of one of Scott’s ‘fat-ass cheques’ would keep Mandy from hunting him down and gnawing off his toes while he slept…
It wasn’t all bad though. Scott would never admit it, but Gordon’s previous display of charitable benevolence had warmed his heart enough for him to disclose to John the one person they could all freely bare their naked asses to if they so wished.  
The Hood. But on two conditions:
1. He had to be en route to a prison cell at the time.
2. The phrase ‘kiss my ass’ would have to take on a literal meaning instead of a metaphorical one.
FIN
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vtscasefiles · 4 years
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Case File # 321-5
Trigger warning: blood, gore, violence, death, firearms, injury, rape mention
Case begun: 5/09/20**
Case Concluded: 5/11/20**
Case Locale: [REDACTED], Florida
Marked as Closed
I arrived in Florida, the humidity already fucking with my sinuses. How anyone can live in this swampy shithole I will never understand. But I was offered a job, and my bank account was practically beating me over the head with it’s need to be filled. The pay was too good to turn down, so I loaded up my gear and headed out.
What I wasn’t expecting was a fucking ghost pirate. I mean, of all things, how fucking cliché can you get? The client, Rosie [REDACTED], welcomed me with that famed “southern hospitality” that I’ve heard so much of.
“You the girl with the gun? I expected you to be bigger.”
Fuckin’ peachy. “Yes. I’m the girl with the gun. You got a haunting problem?” I replied, trying not to let my irritation get the better of me. I’m fucking 5′9″. I’m not that small. For fuck’s sake, I can bench two hundo with no problem. Why the -- 
[Editor’s note: this continues for fifteen minutes. For your convenience I have removed VT’s rant.]
After getting a brief rundown of the case, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Everything pointed to a simple haunting, it wasn’t something I was considering a challenge, or even something that’d take longer than a few hours.
After doing this job, you think you’ve seen just about all the SC* has to offer. My two best friends are a lich and a witch. Yes, they rhyme, shut up. Point being is that I have never seen a haunting manifest on such a massive scale. Usually it’s restrained to a building, or a patch of land, but this...the whole fucking coast line was haunted. It wasn’t even a Cluster**, it was one. Singular. Spirit.
My first day, as the usual, was spent at the library. The spirit in question, one Captain Fresni, was an infamous pirate in the seventeen hundreds. Played a role in the American Revolution, albeit a small one. According to the books I’d found (mostly useless, but I did manage to glean some insight), his ship The Crooked Jess, was riddled with canon fire by the British. Captain Fresni, a violent fighter if ever there was one, realized there was no way out...lit every barrel of gunpowder he had on board and rammed his ship into the oncoming fleet. The following explosion wiped out three ships, packed with soldiers and set fire to another six.
I was impressed. If the spirit was Captain Fresni, as Rose claimed, then it could simply be a case of the body dying so suddenly and violently that the spirit didn’t realize he was dead. There was one passage that stood out, I won’t repeat it due to it being hella long, but in summation it stated that near the southern tip of Florida there was a hidden cove that served as the pirate captain’s base. Might as well start there.
It was around 9pm on the tenth before I even stepped foot in the cove. Immediately, the air changed. Despite it being disgustingly humid, the air turned frigid and dry. I walked up and down the coast to find a spot that wasn’t freezing, but to no avail. The whole place was a spook zone. We’re talking a good three hundred acres of land completely under the spirit’s influence. Even by a Cluster’s standards, that’s a massive area.
This area was mostly undisturbed, being a historical site. Being in the profession I am, meant that didn’t mean a roasty pile of dogshit. If I got caught disturbing anything here, it only meant one thing: prosecution, if not a bullet through my head. I’m aware of what my ethnic background means; prejudice, racism, outright hate. Hell, it’s dangerous to drive, let alone stand somewhere that I shouldn’t. So I try to be subtle. Try not to pack too much ordinance. Today I only had my duffel bag full of Elinor’s*** special ammo. I’d say it “kills” ghosts, but you can’t kill a spirit. You can however, force it to reconcile with it’s past.
The worst part about this job was I was going to wind up in the water. I hate swimming. Forget what chlorine does to the dye in my hair (red. Blood red. Always.), but just the thought of driving across the country with my clothes soaked in salty water was already putting my teeth on edge. Looks like I’d be hitting a thrift shop on the way home.
I dropped my duffel bag on the beach and sat in the sand next to it, pulling off my dad’s old combat jacket and stowing it inside. I did a quick inventory. I hadn’t brought anything major. Salt. Blessed water (courtesy of Ramona****). A black beeswax candle and, my trusty companion, Peace.
Peace is the name I’ve given to my custom-made revolver. All together, the setup weighs about three pounds. Each part bears a custom engraving that’ll combat just about any supernatural force...even so, there are some things that Peace can’t solve...even with the right ammo. But I had one solution sitting in the backseat of my car: a can of kerosene. If bullets don’t solve the problem, a liberal application of fire will.
The time was midnight, the opening of the “Witching Hour”. I had until 3am to get something. Anything. The spirit wasn’t answering to any of the usual callouts (their name, questions, requests for an audience), so I settled in on the beach to doze. Wasn’t much else to do.
Mother fucker, I wish I hadn’t.
When I woke up, it was to the freezing cold iron around my wrists. The bob and weave that told me I was on the sea. The air smelled of something...something that every fucking time I smell it, I almost lose my lunch.
Corpses.
The deck outside my cell was slick with blood and viscera. I’ve seen my share of gore, don’t get me wrong, but this was a massacre. What was worse...it looked (and smelled) fresh. The good captain had been busy, it’d seemed. What began as a simple haunting was quickly turning into something more sinister. Rosie hadn’t mentioned that the spirit was violent...though I should have assumed, given the amount posted on the job. Even still, this was...a little more than I’d prepared for.
But first there was the matter of the shackles on my wrists.
Lockpicking is an artform that every PE invests time in learning. But that’s usually deadbolts or doors made post 1970. The manacles on my wrists (though they looked brand new) were easily something seen in the eighteenth century. There was even a maker’s mark next to one of the keyholes. I’ll spare you the details on how I got out, but my thumbs ache to all hell.
The second I laid hands on the bars to my cell, they swung open...I’d never been locked in. This worried me. The spirit wanted me free...the manacles were just a precaution. Each step I made was met with the squishy splort of combat boot on viscera. I took my time, as I didn’t relish the thought of slipping and falling into the mess beneath my boots. Proud to say that I didn’t fall. Not once.
[Editor’s note: judging by the stains on VT’s clothes, she fell.]
As far as I could tell, I was on the lowest deck. The stairway didn’t lead up into the fresh air of day, but rather into what I assumed was a galley. Tables and benches had been scattered, and cooking implements rusted on their hooks. Dangling from one of those hooks was my firearms...just waiting for me.
I expected a trap, I anticipated the trap. By that I mean I picked up a piece of busted bench and hurled it at my gun. It fell off the hook with a loud clatter which had me willing myself to fade into the shadows. Nothing. Nothing but the creak and groan of the ship.
Well, I say nothing, but I distinctly heard laughter from the top deck. Feminine, bright laughter. I picked my gun up off the floor, holstered it and climbed the stairs.
There was no ghost crew, as I’d anticipated...but at the helm was a sight that still gives my heart a jolt. It’s no secret that I’m gay. I love women. But what I saw at the helm...fuck me, sideways. She was tall. 6′6″ if she was an inch. Her raven hair captured the moonlight and practically sucked it in. Her breasts were bared to the wind, heavy tattoos that seemed to glow covered just about every inch of bared flesh. I’d have thought her living if not for one thing: her eyes. Pitch black like the void.
“Ahoy, mate.” she purred, setting my teeth to clench. “Found you on my little hideaway, snoozin’ like an infant. Come to join Captain Fresni’s crew, little pet?”
“I ain’t your pet.” I snapped, glowering up at the spirit. “You’ve been killing people, Captain...and everything I’ve read says that you’re a man. Are you actually Captain Fresni, or is that just some title you picked up?”
“Funny how men’ll give the most vicious fighters a cock in death that they never had in life, hm?” the pirate snickered. I took notice then that her arms were like two thick pythons that, any other time, I’d like to see just how much weight they could hold. “I offered my services to old Georgie and he thought me funny. At least until I broke his nose.”
“Georgie? As in Washington?”
“Ye know of him? Interesting. He refusing the afterlife, too?”
Everything I’d assumed about this spirit was wrong. Captain Fresni wasn’t a man, for one. Not to mention she knew very well that she was dead. That still didn’t answer the most pertinent question on my mind. “The bodies...or what’s left of them. Was that you?”
“Aye.” she smiled, wickedly, but offered no further explanation. I was being baited.
“Can I ask why?”
“Ye just did.” a hard spin of the wheel almost sent me tumbling. “But I suppose I can oblige a pretty little thing like you.” I fucking hate being demeaned. And all attraction for this undead bitch was flying out the window faster than you could say “eat my ass”. 
I can’t remember most of her explanation. Looking back, now...it’s like the whole of that night is just a drunken fever dream. What stands out to me is her reasoning. “I only murder the dregs, girlie. Rapists, mostly. Kidnappers. Violence done to women is met with brutal retaliation. It’s the simplest way to clean up this world, savvy?”
Oh, I was savvy. Quite savvy. If anything, I agreed with her and her method. Trash like that shouldn’t be allowed to breathe, let alone exist. “If that’s all you’re doing, Cap, then I see no reason we shouldn’t go our separate ways. You have your work and I have mine.”
“Aye? And just what is your work, lovely?” I didn’t detect any further demeaning playfulness...only curiosity.
“I’m a PE. A Paranormal Eliminator. Usually, I’d have to ask or make you pass on, but as it stands...I think we can say live and let live. Well...live and let un-live.” she’d laughed at that. A warm sound that had my guts twisting around my stomach like some sort of horny serpent.
“So, you came out all this way to end the dread Captain Fresni...only to find a kindred spirit, is that what I’m hearing?” she asked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat with a Glasgow grin. “And now you want to leave, just like that. Don’t a get a kiss or a nice romp? I think I’m owed something after all. I didn’t kill you for trespassing.”
That raised my hackles. Again, this pillar of muscle was underestimating me. What I’d fought, what I’d killed. For fuck’s sake, I’ve killed enough Wendigos to put half the men in my profession to shame. There was that weird case where the woman who hired me was fucking the Wendigo, but...that’s another story for another time.
[Editor’s Note: We’ve never discussed the Wendigo-coitus case. I sincerely want to hear it.]
“Fuck you. You got the drop on me, like a coward.” I regretted the words the instant they left my mouth. I was on her ship and at her mercy. She could sink this ship and I had no idea which way shore was...let alone the hazards that went with swimming in open water.
Instead she’d only laughed. “Little girl, I’m a pirate. I’ve no intent to fight head on when I can sneak up on someone. Honor is a man’s game. It’s what gets them killed, more often than not.” Again, I agreed. I’d put enough bullets in the back of a head to know that stealth is preferable than a face-to-face fight.
“Look, I lost my temper. Can we just...end this and I can go home? We both agree on your method, and I see no reason to stop what you’re doing. Sure, the “authority” of the living world won’t like it...but no one likes them, so they can eat a steaming pile of shit.” I said, frowning. “I don’t want a fight. I just want to get paid and go home.”
The look about the spirit changed, marginally. The tattoos seemed to be rippling along her flesh(?) and her smile faded into a frown. “Missy, we still have a glaring problem we’ve yet to address. I’m one woman...and I need a crew. So, unless you’ve got a solution to that particular snag, you’re it.”
All my like for this spirit (begrudging as some of it was) vanished in an instant. “So I’m being kidnapped.” I responded, feeling my heart start to hammer in my ears. “Just like those men you killed. So, what I’m hearing is, you’re no better.”
“Watch your words, girl. Your pretty face won’t save you from my blade.” she’d snarled. It took all that was in me not to balk, though my teeth desperately wanted to chatter.
“I’m using your own words against you, Captain.” I responded, hoping I sounded calmer than I felt. “Don’t blame me if they don’t line up the way you want.”
“One more word out of you -- “
“I’ll give you two: get. Fucked.” that had torn it. The rippling gave way to something that I’d come to expect. This was no run of the mill spirit: Captain Fresni was either a wraith or a revenant. The only real difference between the two was the level of violence capable. A wraith tends to hunt one person, or their family. A revenant hunts whoever they want...and now I was on the list. I couldn’t fight her here, not out in the open. She’d tear me to shreds. Already her jaw was gaping, revealing razor teeth. Her nails, cut short, were lengthening into something akin to talons...and believe me when I say those things hurt. 
I feel no shame in saying I sprinted below deck and ducked into the galley proper. I wish I hadn’t. She wasn’t just killing people, she was eating them. Body parts, half chewed, dangled from the ceiling and littered the ground. My hand clapped over my mouth and nose to keep the smell out and my dinner in. I heard her footsteps and, as silently as I could manage, I checked my firearm. Peace was still locked, cocked and ready to rock. Well, not cocked. Gun safety, kids.
I pulled one of Elinor’s special bullets out of the cylinder. What made these so special is that, instead of lead, bone served as the projectile. The easiest way to deal with something dead is by using something dead against it. I don’t ask where Elinor gets her bone, and I think I’ll be perfectly happy to continue not knowing.
[Editor’s note: I know. It’s horrific.]
“Little pet, little pet, where are you?” she crooned. Well, I say crooned...more like...rattled. A revenant’s physiology is strange, but once they reveal their form it’s almost as if their bodies begin to decay. I peeked around the corner to see her back facing me. I took aim and...nothing. My gun clicked loud enough to sound like a scream in an empty hallway, but no roar of igniting gunpowder. She turned and...smiled. I think. “There you are.”
“Here I am.” I responded, standing on shaking legs. “Soup’s on, Captain.” she ran at me, talons held out at her sides like sabers. I did the only sane thing I could think of: I ducked as she swung. Luckily, the big swing didn’t hit me. Unluckily, she had another hand. Claw. Whatever.
So, there I was, a talon embedded in my shoulder and blood gushing from the wound like a waterfall. A little known fact about revenant wounds: leave the talon in. If it’s withdrawn the wound will immediately fester and become gangrenous. A lot of PEs have died that way.
I slammed the barrel of my gun against the base of her claw and it snapped off. She screamed her pain and rage and took another swipe at my torso. I barely managed to get far enough back in time. The fact I had to compensate for a long talon still imbedded in my shoulder didn’t mean much, as I was operating off a cubic fuckload of adrenaline. She did however manage to shred my tanktop. Which sucked, because I loved that thing. Said “Boss Ass Bitch” on it and everything...I guess I could see if Ramona would make me another one...
[Editor’s note: RIP tank top. Ramona is making another one at the time of writing.]
I sprinted past her, she’d over balanced and given me time to escape. I went down, back to the cells. I was soaked in a cold sweat by now and thankful that my hair tie had held, despite my panicked movement. I smoothed the strands away from my sweat soaked face and looked for a place to hide. Nothing was presenting itself...but an idea struck. It was a stupid idea. A terrible idea. I ran into a cell and pressed my back to the wall.
When Fresni reappeared, she was smiling. “Ran out of room to run, little rat?”
“Seems that way.” I panted. My head was spinning from the loss of blood. Thankfully, that brief moment I spent pressed against the wall had redoubled my courage...and helped me remember one little fact. “Look, Cap...I’m dead. We both know it. The second this talon is removed, my life is over...so...I guess I’m askin’ if that place on your crew is still available.”
That shocked her, if only for a moment. “You can’t lie your way out of this one.”
“No lie. Kill me now. I’d rather just go ahead and get it over with, thanks.” I said, praying that this would work. If it didn’t well...you wouldn’t be seeing this, would you?
She approached, brandishing those eight inch talons. She clicked them together, thoughtfully. “Stand still, then.” she snarled as I held my breath. “One through the heart, and it’s all over.”
Three more steps. Two. One. I stepped in and latched onto her arm, and...I bit down. I felt fetid blood fill my mouth and choke me. I immediately began to gag and then...voided my stomach, all over my aggressor.
A revenant’s true power isn’t from the change they make, though it definitely looks it. A revenant is best known for it’s insidious way of making the unreal real...so long as its concentration remains undisturbed.
When I finally finished tossing my cookies, I looked up. No ship in sight. Just a revenant, me and glorious land. The sand was disturbed, probably from all my running, and my blood left trails showing my passage. I’d been running in circles for the last hour...while she just watched.
“Shouldn’t play with your food.” I coughed, wiping my mouth. “It’s how you get killed.” she screeched in rage, her partially coagulated blood oozing from the bite mark I’d left. The talon was still lodged in my shoulder. I reached for my gun, ready to put an end to this only to pull out... “A fucking banana? Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
She roared and charged. My weapon, my baby was strapped to the rotten leather of her belt. She’d touched it. No one touched my weapon except Ray***** and myself. Not even Ramona. 
That pissed me off in a way that nothing else does.
Naturally, I charged straight for her. She took a swipe with her injured arm, but instead of dodging out of the way, I leapt into it. She made contact, but only with her palm. I felt one of my ribs crack and gasped in pain, pure instinct was the only thing that drove my fist into the shredded flesh on her arm, courtesy of my teeth. She balked and I snatched.
Peace was in my hand, albeit barely. She noticed and lunged again, sending us both into the sand. Her pirate nature showed in the way her head collided with my nose, sending fresh gouts of blood over the both of us. She thought me stunned. An easy kill. She thought wrong.
“Any last words, my pretty?” she cackled, her maw open wide. She wasn’t just going to kill me...I’d pissed her off enough that she was going to bite me. My death wouldn’t just be painful, but slow...and my soul would erode right along with my body.
“Yeah.” I croaked, feeling the end of my stamina quickly approaching. “Choke on it.” I rammed Peace as hard as I possibly could into that gaping maw, hearing her gargle in rage around it. My wrist jerked as I fired once, twice, three times. Bam. Bam. Bam. A faint gargle, a twitch...and about two-hundred pounds collapsed on right on my cracked rib, finishing the job her arm had started and broke the damned thing.
I wheezed beneath the re-corpse for...ten, fifteen minutes? When I finally managed the strength to push her off of me, I immediately emptied the last three rounds into the ruined mess of her skull. Say what you will about my methodology, but I like to be thorough. 
It wouldn’t have done just to leave her body there, for a mundane to see. The SC likes it’s secrecy and to risk exposing it? There was no faster way to end a career than to leave a loose end behind. I made the long trek back to the car and returned with the kerosene can. I stood by the raging fire until there was nothing but ash and blackened bone...though I know a certain lich who could make use of revenant bone.
All in all, a happy ending. Had a vampire doc fix up my shoulder to avoid dying of infection. Rosie paid me what I was owed and Elinor bought the bone off of me for further profit. Sure, my shoulder still hurts so damned bad that I can barely lift it, but...thanks to Ramona, it’ll be healed up in no time. Probably.
Yo-ho-ho, mother fucker. Case closed.
Editor’s farewell: This is the first case file VT asked I upload. It’s one she’s particularly proud of and one with a satisfactory ending. There may be names or terminology that you are unfamiliar with, but I have taken the time to star each of them as to explain. They are as follows:
SC*: Supernatural Community. This is self explanatory. Includes all beings, regardless of death, undeath or birth. IE vampires, ghosts, revenants, werewolves
Cluster**: A colloquial term amongst PEs. Used in reference to a small locale with a massive collection of spirits. Usually all working as a coordinated group.
Elinor***: Elinor Lyktor. Lich. Proprietress of Ellie’s, a shop frequented by PEs for their gear. Specializes in Osteomancy.
Ramona****: Ramona Torrez. Witch. A close friend of VT’s. Offers support, healing and consultation. A good 75% of VT’s equipment is blessed by Ramona.
Ray*****: Raleigh Kane. Gunsmith. Took the name Ray from her father, proprietress of Ray’s Armory. Forced into the Supernatural Community by VT during a case. Since, she has dedicated her craft to making weapons to deal with the malignant forces that threaten the community as a whole. Extensively researches customers and will not sell her works to those she does not trust.
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misssophiachase · 4 years
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Hi All, thank you for all the love you gave this drabble during AU Week. It has inspired me to write another chapter. You can find Chapter one here on AO3 and FF
Synopsis: From opposing packs, Klaus and Caroline had a connection from an early age. However, their parents forced them apart five years earlier through lies and deceit, and now they're coming face-to-face after all these years.
Free Fall - Chapter 2: Homecoming
Fox and Hound Bar, Memphis, TN
"Holy..." Lucien murmured, his eyes doubling in size while looking past Klaus toward the door.
Klaus immediately turned and realized his instincts were still impeccable. Although, on closer reflection, Klaus knew that with her they were always on point. To say she looked stunning was an understatement, well minus the offensive, Rolling Stones t-shirt but he knew she'd worn it on purpose.
Her blonde waves were longer than he remembered, fanned out over her shoulders, her eyes were bluer than ever. It was, however, her skin a tantalizing shade of creamy ivory, that brought back the most memories. Klaus could recall familiarizing himself with every bare inch. In fact, he could probably still recount every freckle and its location on her body.
The one thing Klaus couldn't deny was her effect on him and it was still completely overwhelming to this day. But there was something else he'd missed.
She made him feel completely breathless.
Every time.
But that was before.
Before she left.
7 years earlier…Quarry Tavern, Barre VT
Klaus prided himself on many things. His leadership skills, his unwavering loyalty to those who earned it and his steadfast ability to make decisions based on fact and without any pesky, emotional considerations.
He'd realized early on that emotion was weakness, something that Mikael had beaten into him on multiple occasions. So, he'd traveled through life having fun but never letting himself get entangled into anything more than a one-night-stand. It was working extremely well for him up until that night in late July.
With the full moon behind him for the month, Klaus was back on stage with his band. Music was the one thing that had the ability to drown out all of the bad things in his life and truly allow him to relax.
Klaus had picked up a guitar age nine and over the course of a year had taught himself how to play. It was unheard of for someone his age but it seemed so natural. Lucien used to joke about who he inherited that particular skill from because his parents had no musical talents whatsoever. He'd wondered himself briefly before forging ahead with it and forming his first band, age thirteen.
Since then he'd had three different bands. Frustrated with the first two, he'd forced both Lucien and Kol to learn an instrument. They'd been reluctant and, in Kol's case, whined a lot but after telling them it was a great way to pick-up it sealed the deal.
Even though they bickered, Klaus had to admit the chemistry between them was what had been missing. The few, same people that turned out every night became groups and those groups became large crowds. Even though their repertoire was largely covers at this stage, Klaus figured they needed to start somewhere.
They'd been playing the Quarry in Vermont for the past week. The crowds were heaving; Summer was their busiest season.
They were due to play their first set of the night in fifteen minutes. Klaus liked to sit by himself before they took the stage. He told his bandmates it was because Kol's complaining and Lucien's warm-up, vocal exercises were distracting.
While they were incredibly distracting, in truth he liked to sit outside by himself. The moon's energy was something that had enticed him since he was a pup, not surprisingly, although not because it angered him but because it gave him the ability to relax and collect his thoughts.
Tonight, he was part-way through his ritual when he heard a noise coming from the back fence. He opened one eye and then the other, frustrated by the intrusion but also curious who was disturbing his reverie.
When it didn't seem to be stopping, he stalked quietly towards the sound, wolf-like even in human form. She was clearly attempting to climb the fence, but what he wasn't expecting was to see a toned pair of creamy legs barely covered by a black, mini-skirt. In fact, the brief skirt was hitched that high, her taut backside was in danger of completely revealing itself as well as the remainder of her black, lace panties.
Klaus licked his lips, briefly considering watching the show unfold but deciding he needed to contain his growing arousal and not encourage it given he was due to perform in less than five minutes.
"Alright, love?" Her head whipped around, those loose, golden waves following. Her blue eyes were questioning, her creamy skin tinged pink, no doubt from the exercise. On first sight, Klaus couldn't help but think she looked vaguely familiar.
"I'm fine," she muttered, her gaze unwavering. "In fact, I'd be even finer if you'd leave and pretend you never saw me."
"Well, given the view, I think it's going to be difficult to pretend." She looked at her legs, desperately trying to pull the stretchy fabric down further but failing miserably. In the end, she obviously realized it was a lost cause and scaled the remainder of the fence, then jumped down within inches of him.
"Do you always ogle females?" His keen, wolf sense of smell meant he'd detected her scent from afar but up this close, it was messing with him. A mixture of vanilla, cinnamon, and strawberries that had the ability to render him momentarily useless. He shook his head attempting to clear the fog and concentrate.
"I never ogle because that would mean we were living in another century," he joked. "The only reason I was perusing your assets was that they were difficult to ignore, what with that barely-there skirt bunched up so high," he murmured, eyeing it teasingly. She eventually pulled it down and Klaus had to admit he was disappointed to see such perfection disappear.
"Happy now?"
"I wouldn't say that," he smiled knowingly. "But I am curious as to why you decided to wear a short skirt if you were going to be scaling high fences? I would have thought jeans would have been a much more practical choice, but that's just me."
"Obviously, you can sing but aren't very bright," she muttered. "It's a shame really."
"As far as back-handed compliments go, I think that's probably the best one I've ever received," he chuckled.
"I wasn't expecting to scale a fence obviously," she shot back, rolling her eyes. "But when my fake ID option fell through, this seemed like a good alternative. Well, you know, at the time."
"Now who's the bright one?"
"Is there any chance we can quit the small talk and you can let me inside?" She pleaded, her lower lip sticking out further no doubt as an extra maneuver to convince him. "I mean I did come specially to see your band."
"I'm not sure I'm quite ready to commit a felony just because you supposedly like my band," he replied. "How old are you?"
"Will that get me inside?" He gave her a look which plainly said it wouldn't. "I'm seventeen, next month," she said the last two words quieter than the first two.
Being barely nineteen, Klaus didn't think it was too much of an ask. He'd been at pubs since then, perhaps earlier, but ID had never been an issue in their world. Klaus knew that the pack wars had heated up recently and elders had insisted upon strict curfews for those under 18, the elderly and the vulnerable.
Alaric Saltzman owned the Quarry and was usually pretty relaxed with the rules given the bar was out of the way of prying eyes (exactly why Klaus liked it) but the orders had come from the very top this time and weren't to be ignored. Even though he knew exactly who the orders came from, Klaus had never really liked rules and there was also something about her he couldn't reconcile.
"I've been trying to work out for the past five minutes why you look so familiar," he stated, hoping for some kind of crumbs. She merely shrugged her shoulders by way of response. "And why I'm stupidly going to do this.."
"Oh look, I think those brain cells are regenerating," she teased, attempting to walk past him. He couldn't miss the rush of exhilaration he felt as she grazed his shoulder. Who was this girl and what was she doing to him?"
"Hold on," he insisted, making her stop. "If I let you go in there, what are you going to do for me?"
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, love," he replied. "I'm going to need some sort of payment and in lieu of that, a favor."
"What kind of favor?" She asked, hands-on-hips and squinting her blue eyes narrowly in his direction. Given her adversarial stance, it was clear she had misconstrued what he'd asked.
"Not in that way," he quickly replied. "Can you sing?"
"Now that I wasn't expecting," she murmured, obviously considering his question. "Of course, I can sing. In fact, I could probably give you a run for your money."
"That's a pretty big call to make," he whistled, catching a hint of her perfume in the breeze and willing himself to concentrate yet again. "My backing singer flaked at the last minute and she was supposed to sing a couple of songs."
"I've seen her before on YouTube, you can do better," she explained. "And when I say better, I mean me."
"I can't just take your word for it.." before he could continue she started to sing.
"And I wonder if I ever crossed your mind. For me, it happens all the time. It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now." He knew the song and didn't think he'd ever heard it sung so beautifully.
"Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now. And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now." Klaus didn't even realize he finished the last couple of lines with her.
It was only part of a song but Klaus wasn't quite sure what to say. Words couldn't explain just how good she was and even more so with him.
"So, we found a replacement for April then?" Kol interrupted, coming through the back door and happening upon their impromptu duet. Klaus was still in shock, his brain not moving fast enough to reply.
"You did," she said, sending his brother her best smile. "I'm Caroline." Klaus liked the way it sounded rolling off her tongue, in fact, it was something he could get used to over and over again. She was something he could get used to. Caroline walked inside leaving them alone for a minute.
"Father is going to kill us," he mumbled.
"Again? Why this time exactly?"
"I didn't recognize her at first but when she said her name was Caroline..."
"Caroline Forbes," Klaus finished, his heart sinking.
Why did his father and the rivalry have to ruin every facet of his life? Now he'd inadvertently not only let the only daughter of Bill Forbes into the bar breaking all of the curfew rules but now she was going to sing in his band for a rather sizeable crowd.
Everything in him was screaming "abort" but for some reason, Klaus wanted to take the chance and screw the consequences. Something happened between them and Klaus was desperate to find out exactly what that was and how he felt.
Klaus slowly broke free from his memory realizing exactly how she made him feel then. Although looking at her today, he realized there were still elements of that breathlessness but they were now intermingled with an underlying, sharp pain in his chest.
Hurt.
The number of emotions he was currently experiencing was threatening to spill over and Klaus knew he couldn't show that weakness, especially to her of all people. She didn't deserve it.
She looked at him, her gaze unwavering almost like she was saying…
"Well?" It was eerie how he could tell exactly what she was going to say, even after all this time.
"Hello to you too, love" he smirked, unable to stop the endearment from slipping out, although Klaus knew this time it wasn't done in love, it was all part of his plan to entice her and then use her to gain the upper hand. She faltered briefly and Klaus knew he still had it. "What can we help you with?"
"I assume you know why I'm here," she shot back, raising her eyebrows. "Lucien," she greeted, whilst simultaneously gesturing for him to pick up his jaw from the floor. Klaus wished his best friend could have been a touch more calm and collected but he couldn't have everything. "Is that the stray beginnings of a beard I see? I'm not sure it's really you, to be honest."
Klaus had to resist the urge not to laugh given his sister had said that only ten minutes earlier. Speaking of the blonde devil, Klaus knew she was no doubt in the ladies' room sharpening her claws. Klaus had decided to tell her that Caroline might audition so she didn't cause a scene. But where his sister was concerned there most definitely was going to be a scene. Rebekah really should have been an actress, not a band manager.
"You know I'm the best singer in these parts, I don't know why you didn't just call me up because it would have saved you time."
"I suppose I'd needed to know where you were in order to do that," he shot back, his terse tone not lost on her. Klaus knew this was going to be difficult but nothing had prepared him for Caroline Forbes coming back into his life. "Enough with the pleasantries, are you ready to audition?" He asked, noticing for the first time a brunette male in the background. "Are you lost?"
"I'm.."
"The audition call was for a female backing singer," he growled, thinking he was too old for this.
"He's not auditioning, he's with me," Caroline murmured, her blue eyes unflinching. Klaus felt like someone had punched him in the stomach and realized at that point maybe his claws needed sharpening too. "Are we ready to start?" Klaus nodded, clearing his throat and willing himself to calm down, he could see out of the corner of his eye Lucien was sending him the same message. 
"What will you be singing?"
"Need You Now," she replied nonchalantly. "I figured it's an oldie but a goodie."
Given she was the one to leave him all those years ago, Klaus figured it was incredibly nasty to twist the knife like that. It was their song after all. Well, it was once.
Not only did she look good enough to eat, but she had also brought some boyfriend along and on top of that was singing their song. Klaus knew he was 0 from 1 and needed to turn that around in order to execute his plan.
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valsebasshop · 4 years
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Coronavirus stimulus bill fails to move forward..
https://amzn.to/3eCoQ4Ghttps://amzn.to/2XGCwpeCoronavirus stimulus bill fails to move forward; McConnell cites ‘obstruction’A vote to advance the massive coronavirus stimulus bill failed on Sunday night in the Senate as negotiations had yet to produce a deal on the more than $1 trillion aid package. A second vote has now been scheduled for Monday shortly after 12:00 p.m. ET.
It's very important to use this..
Republicans, who needed 60 votes to move forward on the bill, weren’t able to win over any Democrats to proceed, meaning no aid will flow to the economy — including checks to individuals, help for small businesses and bailouts for big corporations — until an agreement is reached.
Democrats said that they were dissatisfied with worker protections in the bill, which was written by Republicans, and that the rules on corporate bailouts are too lax.
“We’ll see what happens. I think we’ll get there,” President Donald Trump said at the White House moments after the measure failed to advance. “We have to help the worker. We have to save the companies.”
“All of a sudden, the Democratic leader [Chuck Schumer, D-N.Y.] and the speaker of the House [Nancy Pelosi, D-Calif.] shows up and we’re back to square one,” McConnell said, blaming Democrats for “obstruction.”
“So we’re fiddling here, fiddling with the emotions of the American people, fiddling with the markets, fiddling with our health care. The American people expect us to act tomorrow,” McConnell said. “And I want everybody to fully understand if we aren’t able to act [Monday], it’ll be because of our colleagues on the other side continuing to dicker when the country expects us to come together and address this problem.”
McConnell said the second vote, set for Monday, would show whether there’s been any “change of heart” among the Democrats and he noted it would take after the markets open, which could increase pressure on Democrats not to oppose the measure and frighten investors.
Schumer is scheduled to meet with Treasury Secretary Mnuchin at 9 a.m. ET on Monday to continue talks.
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Schumer said: “Early this morning (Sunday), Leader McConnell presented to us a highly partisan bill written exclusively by Republicans, and he said he would call a vote to proceed to it today. So who is being partisan? He knows darn well for this bill to pass it needs both Democratic and Republican support.
“Given more time, I believe we could reach a point where the legislation is close enough to what the nation needs for all senators, all senators to want to move forward,” Schumer added. “We are not yet at that point.”
Download the NBC News app for full coverage and alerts about the coronavirus outbreak
The stalemate unfolded after top Democrats said Sunday that they’re not yet ready to sign off on the major coronavirus stimulus package — and will be preparing their own legislation — as Congress tries to ready the bill for passage as soon as Monday.
Just before an 11 a.m. meeting of the top Republican and Democratic congressional leaders, as well as Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin, Pelosi told reporters that “from my standpoint, we are apart.”
Schumer told reporters ahead of the meeting that “we need a bill that puts workers first, not corporations,” and declined to say whether he supports the current bill.
Leaving Sunday’s meeting, Pelosi said that she will introduce her own legislative package but that “we are still talking” with Republican leaders. She said that at this point, however, there is no bipartisan deal.
The meeting came hours before the critical procedural vote on the Phase III bill, the text of which hasn’t yet been released. McConnell had delayed the vote from 3 p.m. to 6 p.m. ET to give congressional leaders more time to hammer out the details.
Just before Sunday morning’s meeting, Democrats revealed what they are still opposed to in the stimulus package. According to a person familiar with the negotiations, Democrats say the language would allow for corporations to keep bailout money while still firing workers, that the bailout money would have virtually no restraints and that there are very weak stock buyback restrictions.
A senior Democratic aide told NBC News that Democrats are concerned that the bill lacks specific provisions to protect people from evictions, foreclosure or forbearance and that it would allow for only three months of unemployment insurance.
McConnell told reporters after the meeting that the Senate plans to move forward with its bill and is “hopeful and optimistic” that it will have bipartisan support.
“But make no mistake about it, we’ll be voting tomorrow. I mean, the wheel has to stop at some point,” McConnell said. “And I don’t want any of you to buy the notion that this isn’t a thoroughly bipartisan proposal already. There’s still some elbowing and maneuvering for room, as you can imagine, but this is a pretty solid-like bipartisan proposal agreed to by a lot of rank-and-file Democrats who were involved in drafting it.”
House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy, R-Calif., said that he thought the meeting “was very productive” and that both sides are “very close” to a deal. He added that he doesn’t think Pelosi’s introducing her own legislation would be “productive.”
“I don’t know that we’d have the time for that,” he said, adding he believes it “would do the country a lot of damage.”
Mnuchin told reporters he’s still optimistic about a deal, saying, “We still think we have an overall understanding, and we’re going to try to get this on paper.”
One potential complication was the news Sunday that Sen. Rand Paul, R-Ky., has tested positive for the coronavirus. Paul in recent days had contact with many other senators, and his announcement triggered a discussion about whether senators should immediately return home or self-quarantine. Sens. Mike Lee and Mitt Romney, both Utah Republicans, said later Sunday that they would be self-quarantining for two weeks and would have to miss floor votes after having had “extended” interactions with Paul.
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Sen. Bill Cassidy, R-La., said he is concerned that other senators could be infected.
“I am concerned about every American. This thing is incredibly infectious, so I am concerned about every American,” he said. “Now senators, as a rule, tend to be a little bit older, so senators are at an increased risk for complications. But, by the way, not as high risk as a nursing home. And so we just need to be concerned about everybody right now.”
Democratic senators learned of Paul’s coronavirus test while they were in their Democratic caucus meeting Sunday, according to two sources with direct knowledge of the meeting. About half the senators were in the room, with the rest calling in by conference call. Once the Paul news came out, the senators on the phone urged those in the room to leave immediately and to stop congregating in the room.
But other senators pointed out that there’s no provision for the Senate to vote unless senators are physically present and that they can’t just all go home.
According to details of the bill released Thursday, Senate Republicans propose to give a $1,200 check to every American adult with an income under $75,000, decreasing gradually after that and zeroing out at $99,000 income. Checks would fall to $600 for those with little or no income tax liability, and $500 would be added in per child. The eligibility would be based on 2018 tax filings.
Meanwhile, Sen. Bernie Sanders, I-Vt., has proposed universal $2,000 checks per month “for the duration of the crisis.” Other Senate Democrats have suggested quarterly checks that begin at $2,000 per person, decreasing over time based on economic triggers.
The total coronavirus package McConnell released would cost about $1 trillion. Already, Congress has approved — and Trump has signed — coronavirus aid legislation that provides free coronavirus testing and ensures paid emergency leave, among other measures.
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Originally published at https://www.nbcnews.com on March 23, 2020
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insfiringyou · 5 years
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BTS - One Night Stand with Suga
Contains: Smut. Angst. Flirting. Fingering. Oral sex. Face riding. Vaginal Sex.
Set a year after his break up with our headcanon girlfriend, Jeong-sun, and around one month after the (straight) threesome with J-Hope and a stranger in England.] Yoongi has sex with an African-American woman he meets in a bar.
Find out all about our headcanon universe, plot and characters here. To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook & Our full masterlist can be found here
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(Photo credit goes to VT cosmetics)
Rated content below the cut
The low hum of nondescript pop music drifting out of the speakers did not distract Yoongi from the leather-bound book in his hands. He flicked through the pages of the diary casually, occasionally stopping to pencil in a few key dates; Hoseok’s birthday in February, then a two week trip to Taiwan in March. The flicker of somebody taking off their jacket at the table behind him caught his eye and he locked eyes briefly with the tall, dark-skinned woman seated alone a couple of meters away. Being an early Tuesday afternoon, the small bar was almost deserted. Tucking her light blue denim jacket over the back of her stool, the woman smiled before climbing onto the seat, turning her gaze downwards. The rest of her attire was understated and formal; a cream coloured patterned blouse and plain black trousers covered her curvaceous body. She looked as though she had finished work early and had come straight from the office.
Yoongi turned back to the bar as the waiter came over and asked whether he wanted to order any more drinks. Glancing at the empty tumbler on the wooden surface which had held a double shot of whisky half an hour before, he shook his head. He had only stopped for an hour of peace and quiet to reflect on the schedule management had given him earlier, outlining the group’s plans for the next two months before their next break. The bar was a short walk from his apartment, in a side road off the bustling sidewalk of the main high street, and somewhere he had been frequenting more and more in the past six months whenever he wasn’t on tour. While he never stayed for more than a couple of drinks, it got him out of his silent apartment which had suddenly begun to feel too big for him. He had come to dread days off, when the afternoons and evenings seemed to drag on and on. 
He frowned at the page beneath his pale hand as something was placed beside him with a small tap on the wood. He looked up to find the waiter putting another glass of whisky down in front of him. Locking eyes, the older male smiled and nodded behind Yoongi. 
“She asked that I bring you this.” He said, making Yoongi spin around automatically to see who he was referring to. Once again, he met the gaze of the woman seated at the small, round table and pointed to the glass with a frown. She shrugged, a sweet grin pulling at her full, pecan coloured lips as she raised her own glass in the air, saluting him in a cheers. Out of the corner of his eye, Yoongi noted the waiter retreat discreetly into the store room, leaving them alone and, with a surprising lack of hesitation, drank the liquid in one, long gulp. It coated his throat like honey, warming his stomach pleasantly as he slid off his stool and walked over to her curiously, tucking the leather diary in his pocket.
“Are you sure it was for me?” He asked with a small, apprehensive smile.
She shrugged once again. “You looked lonely.” Her voice was warm and slightly accented, a hint of toying coquetry in the tone. He felt his stomach grow pleasantly warm at the sound; it had been a long time since anyone had flirted with him and even longer since he had flirted back.
“I was just thinking.” He explained simply, honestly. 
“Lost in thought?” Her lips tugged upwards playfully and he noted the dimples in her cheeks.
He paused. “You’re Korean is really good. Where are you from?” 
Smiling at the compliment, she tapped the table lightly, encouraging him to join her. He moved silently onto the stool. Up close, he could smell her fragrance; a mixture of jammed fruit and warm musk. 
“Boston.” She replied. 
Yoongi flashed a small, toothy grin. “The Red Sox are great.” He slipped into English without really thinking and her face lit up at the comment, making her dark eyes sparkle. 
“You speak English?” She asked. 
He shook his head but the smile remained. “Not very well.” Casting his eyes downwards, he switched back to his native language but she did not seem disappointed. 
Pressing on, she leaned forward slightly on her elbows. “Do you come here often?”
“Only when it’s quiet.” 
“Am I disturbing you?” She suddenly sounded a little apprehensive.
“No.” Yoongi looked up. “You’re quite refreshing.” 
There was the trace of a smile still on his lips and she tried to read whether he was being sarcastic in his tone of voice. She sensed no malice, but pressed on nonetheless. “Because I’m black?” She asked, raising one arched eyebrow. There was a moment of hesitation as he understood the implication of her words. She noticed his face flinch very slightly, as though taken aback by the accusation, but he covered it well for her sake and she felt herself relax. 
“Because you approached me first.” He explained honestly, speaking slowly. “How did you know I liked scotch?” He gestured over to the now empty bar, where the glass tumbler stood. 
She smiled automatically. “Just a feeling…” It was the truth. He had already finished his first drink by the time she had arrived twenty minutes before. There was a warm but slightly embarrassed pause between them before he spoke again.
“Do you teach English?” 
She nodded. “I try.” With a smile, this one less bashful, she ran a finger along the edge of her cocktail glass. The liquid inside smelled both zesty and bitter. “I work at the Yeoksam elementary school in the mornings.” 
He watched as she took a sip of her alcohol. “How are the kids?” He asked, his voice sounding simultaneously casual and interested. 
She smiled against the rim of the glass. “They always ask to touch my hair.”
Laughing gently, he allowed his eyes to briefly roam over her array of tight, off-black curls. They were beautiful, framing her dark, dewy skin like a fan, but he found his mind casting back to his own childhood, growing up in a homogeneous part of Daegu and found himself grimacing internally. “Do you mind?”
She shook her head, sending the ringlet spirals bouncing. “No. They’re just kids.” 
She finished the last dregs of her drink and Yoongi nodded towards the elegant shaped glass. “Do you want another drink?” 
She placed the tall flute on the table. “I’d love a gin and tonic.”
Placing his hands flat against the table for support, he moved from the high seat. “Hendricks or Bombay?” 
Grinning. “Hendricks.” 
He nodded once before heading to the bar which was now occupied by a few groups of suit-wearing men, clustered in groups of twos and three, clearly enjoying a late lunch break or an early break from work. He came back a few minutes later, clutching two glasses and a bottle. She poured her own tonic water into the glass of gin as he sipped his dark whisky. 
“Have you ever been to the UK?” He suddenly asked, looking up from his glass. 
She shook her head. “No, why?”
He shrugged casually. “If you like gin, there’s a lot of variety.” 
“When did you go?” She asked, inquiring. 
“A month ago.” 
“Did you meet the queen?” She smiled drily. 
He matched her tone, glancing at her cooly. “I’m not that important.” As he said it, it occurred to him for the first time that she hadn’t seemed to recognise him. At least, if she had, she was being very casual about it compared to most people he met. While he was often spotted when out with the group, he found that he could often slip under the radar when he was alone and dressed down. 
She flashed her teeth, breaking the indifferent tone of the conversation. “What’s your name?”
“Yoongi. You?”
“Michelle.” She smiled. “Are you going to have another?” Her gaze flickered to his finished drink before looking up.
“Are you?” He asked. His eyes were wide but his voice suggested he was giving her the authority to make the choice on his behalf. 
She shrugged. “I’m not at work tomorrow.” Sliding from her chair, she finished her drink in two sips. “We could pick something up on the way home.” 
He glanced at her, sensing the flirty tone in her voice and the implication of her words but wanting to be sure. After all, Korean was her second language. “Is that an invitation?” He asked. “Does it mean the same thing as in Korea?” 
She smiled, her expression full of mirth. “What does it mean in Korea?”
He shrugged offhandedly, deciding to be blunt in his explanation. “That we fuck.” 
Michelle pulled her denim jacket from the back of the chair and slid it back on over her high-necked blouse. Reaching over onto the spare chair, she picked up her handbag before turning back to Yoongi who, standing beside her, was a fraction shorter. He didn’t seem to notice or mind. “I might let you eat me out.” She smirked as they walked across the room. He laughed in reply, flashing his teeth and gums as he held the door open for her. 
***
They had decided, in the end, to go back to his place with it being closer. Stopping first at the small liquor store around the corner, she had insisted that he buy the cheapest beer, confirming his suspicions that she was clueless as to who he was. As he took them to the cash registers she tugged at his shirt sleeve. 
“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” She quipped. 
He turned to her, a six pack of beer in his arms. “You don’t.” He thought for a moment. “We could get non-alcoholic beer if you’d prefer?”
Her lips turned upwards in a wide grin. “I’d rather take the chance.”
After entering his apartment, they headed straight for the sitting room and took their places next to each other on the two-person sofa, their covered knees touching.
“What do you do for a living?” Michelle asked curiously, snapping off the ring pull on her can of Stella Artois. 
“I produce music.” He answered simply, sipping at his own can.
“You must be successful.” She looked around the room, eyeing the sheepskin rug and large television. “You’re place is really nice.”
He shrugged noncommittally. “I do okay.”
“What were you doing in Europe?” She glanced at him as she sipped her beer and noticed a moment of hesitation as he spoke.
“Touring. What made you come to Korea?”
She smirked. “I like seafood.”
Laughing, he turned to face her fully, his expression warm. “Is that all?”
She sighed a little but otherwise remained dispassionate. “I had a Korean boyfriend. We broke up.”
Yoongi found himself thinking of Jeong-sun despite himself and felt something pang in his chest. It felt as though a low, minor chord had been struck on a piano. It had been a year, and he wondered idly when it would stop hurting to think of her. He shifted on the sofa, a little awkwardly and took a sip of beer. 
“You didn’t want to move back home?” He asked, feeling the unpleasant sensation in his torso begin to ebb away.
She shrugged and smiled. “I like it here.”
“That’s good.” He murmured, finishing the can and placing it down on the coffee table in front of them. There was a moment of silence, not entirely uncomfortable, between them, before she let out a small, breathy laugh.
“You’re not in any rush are you?” She smirked. 
He looked at her. “For what?”
“To fuck me.”
He grinned a little bashfully. “I didn’t know if you were being serious.” He admitted. He had been open to things either way. It was nice to be alone with a woman, after so much time. 
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.” She taunted, finishing her own drink. “Don’t you find me attractive?” Her long, mascara coated eyelashes battered a little. 
He shrugged at her first point. “I just wanted to get to know you first.” Realising she might take his body language to be in reply to her question, he pressed on. “You’re beautiful.” He finished, his voice casual, as though simply stating a fact. 
She couldn’t help but grin, her shoulders relaxing into her body. “So are you.”
There was another pause as he moved closer to her, a little tentatively, bridging the small gap between them. Moving his head to the side, finding the right angle, he pressed his lips, slightly open, against hers. She kissed him back, capturing his lower lip and sucking on it sensually. Her hands found his shoulders and held him still against her as he massaged  her lips over and over. Snaking his arms around her waist, he pulled her into him until their torsos touched. The kisses were slow and unhurried as they enjoyed each other and eventually, she pulled away from his lips. 
“You’re a good kisser.” She whispered, her breath warm against his face. 
The ghost of a smile touched his lips. “I like kissing you.” He admitted before moving back in, a little more forcefully. Her tongue touched his as they moved together; brushing and massaging him. Despite the increase in pressure, the pace remained leisurely; opening his eyes slightly, he captured her tongue between his lips and sucked it gently. She let out a whimper in reply and, when he let her go, she pressed her lips to his cheek softly. 
“So…” She murmured, her voice low. “Are you going to show me where the bedroom is?”
He nodded against her skin and got to his feet, pulling her up with him and leading her down the hall. He opened the door to a medium sized room, simply decorated with plain white walls. A few black and white art prints hung from the walls; the bed was made up in crisp, pale blue sheets. She didn’t question why he had clearly taken to her to the spare room; the space had a blank, un-lived in quality to it, and he didn’t comment on it. The truth was he hadn’t realised where he was heading until he already got there. Rationally, he might have dismissed the move as making more sense since he had not left his room that morning in the neatest of ways. But deep down, he knew that taking her to his own bed felt too intimate. The spare room was like a blank slate; it was the only room in the entire apartment which did not had any significant memories attached to it. 
They walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, their lips moving back together immediately as she brushed her hand over his clothed crotch, rubbing back and forth gently, working him up. Feeling him slowly growing stiff beneath her fingers, she smiled and squeezed the outline of his length lightly, delighting in the way his breath hitched in his throat. He remained silent as she slid off the duvet to crouch in front of him; collected as she unfastened his jeans and edged them down his slender hips. Nestling closer between his thighs, she massaged his covered cock a few times, admiring the stiff shape of the outline pressed against his tight boxer shorts, before tugging the waistband down to free him. 
He gazed at her submissively, as she moved closer and took him in her mouth, gliding her lips and wet tongue along him slowly, leisurely. He allowed her to work him, her mouth steadily growing a little quicker as she applied more pressure against his cock. Her hand grasped him steady and his lips popped open in a silent moan as she paused to trail her tongue gently along his testicles. He watched, passively, as she took him back into her mouth and pulled him in deep. His breathing grew increasingly breathy as she sucked him; her lips felt amazing around him and the moderate pace of her movement allowed him to feel and savour every sensation she caused with her cheeks, lips and tongue. 
“That feels good.” He whispered, his fingertips brushing the dark spirals of her hair lightly, holding it back from her cheeks. 
“Do you want me to go faster?” She asked, slipping him out with a pop and gazing up at him from between his thighs. 
“No.” He muttered and caressed her cheekbone gently. “I like it like this. Can you keep going?”
She nodded with a smile, pressing her lips against his tip before sinking back onto him. She kept her movement steady and worked him for another few minutes; savouring his quiet, throaty whimpers. Eventually, he reached forward and encouraged her to stop, touching the sides of her face gently and leaning forward to kiss her. His mouth opened against hers, not squeamish enough to care that he was tasting himself on her tongue. She moaned into his mouth as they stood up in unison and pulled each other closer. He eased his jeans and boxer shorts from his legs completely and pulled away to step out of the pool of fabric.
“Can you excuse me for a moment?” He murmured. 
She nodded. “Yeah.”
He left the room to walk down the narrow corridor to his own, meaning to get a condom. As he pushed open the wooden door, the fact that he had not invited her into this space once more crossed his mind, particularly as it would have been more convenient. He reached into the bottom draw of his bedside table and searched through the jumble of contents; phone charger wires tangled like strings of spaghetti and he pushed past them to get to the back. The small box of condoms had not yet been opened but he checked the use by date on the bottom regardless. They had been bought a long time ago with the purpose to be used with someone else. He shook the thought from his mind as he glanced into the open draw and fished out a pale blue bottle of lubricant, this one opened more recently to be used on himself when he masturbated. He didn’t think he would need it, but it wouldn’t hurt to offer. 
When he re-entered the spare room, the woman, Michelle, was unfastening the delicate gold chain which hung around her neck. She placed it on the empty bedside table and moved under her blouse to unclasp her bra, sliding the straps off under the cuffs of her shirt. He walked over to her and placed the pair of objects down on the table, beside the round medallion of her necklace. Her hands immediately moved to his shirt and unfastened the buttons as she kissed him. Easing the sleeves away from his body, she encouraged him onto the bed and crawled on top of him, her lips never leaving his as he ran his hands along her sides, under the sheer fabric of her blouse, to brush her ribcage before moving down to her trousers. He unclasped them easily and pulled away from her lips to glance at her body as he eased them down her thighs before moving to her plain, sensible underwear. She allowed him to remove both garments completely but protested as he grasped her hips and arse keenly and began to guide her lower body to his lips. Se let out a small, breathy laugh. 
“I know I said…” She paused, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed at her forwardness in the bar. She didn’t need to explain what she was talking about, she saw he understood. “But you don’t have to.”
He shook his head gently beneath her, the implication that it didn’t bother him obvious but, when she didn’t move, he gently tapped his lips with his fingers twice, his palm flat against his face, encouraging her to straddle his face. She couldn’t help but laugh at his eagerness, feeling her heart race in her chest. She wasn’t usually insecure about her body, despite the few extra pounds she was carrying, but the prospect of her straddling his face and him tasting her after only meeting a few hours before suddenly seemed imposing.
“Have you done it before?” She asked cautiously, shuffling forwards slowly; her bare crotch hovering over his stomach then chest. 
“Yes.” He replied in English without really thinking and grasped her hips, pulling her a little roughly the rest of the way until her pussy was resting against his lips. She gasped a little in surprise as his mouth opened against her without delay, coating the length of her slit in saliva as his tongue ran along her inner folds. Moaning, she grasped hold on the headboard to steady herself as his tongue probed into the tight opening of her cunt. His hands moved from her fleshy arse, under her blouse, to cup her bare breasts. She moaned, snapping her head back as his thumbs played with the hard nubs of her nipples. He continued to pleasure her as he eventually returned his hands to her waist and encouraged her to move against him, moving her back and forth across his lips and tongue; licking and sucking her clitoris with the perfect amount of pressure, with barely a pause for breath.
“Fuck. You’re really good at that.” She couldn’t help but moan loudly as his tongue returned to her cunt, circling the tight ring of smooth skin before dipping inside. 
She was soaking wet by the time he finally eased her away, sliding her blouse from her skin and flipping her gently onto her back. Pecking her lips, once, he moved back down between her parted thighs. Her pussy was slick against his tongue as he captured her clitoris between his plump lips, flicking it with his tongue before applying more pressure. Feeling breathless, she watched him; admiring the way his long eyelashes brushed his cheek as he closed his eyes, making him look dreamy and beautiful. She gasped loudly and his dark eyes snapped open, meeting her gaze across her naked body. Maintaining eye contact, he stuck out his tongue and licked a line along her entire labia, trailing upwards along her impeccably neat strip of dark pubic hair and over her stomach and chest until he reached her hard right nipple. He licked around the bud, circling her espresso coloured areola, before capturing the nipple in his open mouth. 
“I don’t think you’ll need the lube.” She quipped as he moved to the other nipple. He smiled against her skin as he let her go and kissed her on the lips once more, his teeth pressing against her gently. Pulling away, he sat on his knees and reached over to the box of condoms on the table. He removed the cellophane carefully, a little frown playing on his face as he initially struggled to the pull the little tab to open it, his bitten finger nails too short. Michelle watched him eagerly, her lips parted as she felt the pleasant trickle of her own juices from between her thighs. He succeeding in opening the box and pulled out a square wrapper. Automatically, she reached for the condom, slipping it from between his fingers and pulling it open. He allowed her to roll it down his length gently, being careful to check it was in place before she leaned back down and guided him to her. He pressed his body against hers and looped his arms beneath her parted thighs, holding her close as he pressed his tip to her opening. Reaching down, she held her slick folds open for him, gasping as he filled her. 
He started fairly slow, pushing his hips against hers and kissing her as they moaned in unison, but quickly found a comfortable pace. She captured his lower lip between her teeth and tugged it gently, watching as his eyes fluttered open to gaze over her face sensually.
“Does it feel good?” He asked after a few minutes, pulling away from her lips.
“Yes.” She gasped beneath him. “You can go harder.”
He nodded and nestled himself closer to her pelvis, pulling himself out of her almost all of the way before snapping back into her body. She swore under her breath in English and, the next time he felt her clench around him deliciously, he joined her in Korean. 
“Do you want to go on top?” He eventually asked, moaning against her lips. She had started to touch her clitoris delicately and he sensed she was finding it hard to reach her high in their current position.
“Yeah.” She murmured gratefully as he slipped out of her and they re-positioned themselves, him rolling onto his back. He grasped his erection, adjusting the condom slightly, as she aligned her hips against him and sank onto his cock. Propping himself up on his elbows, he watched her ride him with parted lips; his eyes occasionally flickering closed in pleasure. He knew she was close after a few minutes, the friction of her clit dragging deliciously against his crotch bringing her to her high. She gasped a string of curse words as she came; placing her palm flat against his bare chest to steady her trembling body as her orgasm rippled through her. 
“Are you okay?” He asked as her breathing slowed. He brushed her sensitive clitoris gently, delicately, with two fingers.
“More than okay.” She smiled, gasping. “Are you close?”
“Not long, I promise.” He gasped as he felt her cunt clench around him; her drawn out climax squeezing him. “Are you okay to keep going?”
She nodded. “As long as you need.” She licked her lips as she began to grind her hips once more, a little more clumsily in her exhaustion. A glimmer of sweat stood out on her upper lip and forehead. It didn’t take him long to follow. Grasping her hips tightly, he let out a beautiful, gaspy moan as he rocked her body against him, his eyes snapping shut momentarily as he felt his release. 
She waited until he had stilled beneath her before he rolled off him gently. His eyes flickered open at the loss of contact and he blinked a few times, reaching for the condom. She touched him delicately. 
“Let me get that…” She murmured, slipping the thin piece of latex from him carefully before knotting it off and dropping it into the small bin by the side of the bed. She leaned forward and kissed his chest as he pulled her into him, their breaths equally strained and heavy. She felt herself begin to doze against his warm, comforting skin and had to force herself to open her eyes. 
“Do you want me to go?” She asked, not really knowing how long they had been cuddling like this.
“Stay…” He murmured against her dark hair, his lips pressed against her firmly.
***
The apartment was pleasant and warm in the morning. He had switched on the radiators at some point in the night and grabbed the spare blanket from the closet. They showered separately in the morning; with him showing her how to work the taps in the bathroom.
“I don’t know how you take it.” He muttered as she entered the kitchen, fully dressed. They had slept in until gone ten o’clock and, now, the bright, midday sunlight streamed in through the windows. 
“Two sugars.” She glanced at the mug of coffee he had made her, resting on the marble counter. 
“Do you have any plans for your day off?” He asked, handing her the cup and taking a sip of his own. 
“I’m going to Incheon to meet some friends.” She blew on the liquid, cooling it down. “How about you?”
“Nothing special.” He placed his mug on the counter top. “Do you need a ride there?”
She shook her head. “No, I have train tickets booked.”
“What time does it leave?” He asked. 
“About two hours.”
“I can take you to your apartment.” He offered. 
She smiled pleasantly. “That would be nice, thanks.”
He hesitated. “Can I take your number?”
“Yeah.” She replied immediately but, as they exchanged devices to input their numbers, a moment of silent realisation seemed to pass between them and Yoongi understood that, while she would reply to his texts if he messaged her, they would not meet again. He wasn’t sure whether he was saddened by the prospect. While she was sweet and beautiful and funny, and the sex had been beyond good, he wasn’t sure whether he was ready to seriously date again. He knew he should be; a year was a long time to some, but the thought made him sad nonetheless. 
The journey back to her apartment took an extra ten minutes longer than anticipated. There was unexpected roadworks along two of the major streets, but they had left with plenty of time to spare. He glanced at his Rolex as he tucked his black Hyundai against the curb. 
“I hope you enjoy Incheon.” He said as she unbuckled her belt. 
“Thanks.” Smiling, she leaned forward, meeting his soft lips. He kissed her a couple of times, his open mouth gentle against her, before they pulled away in unison.
“Goodbye.” She said as she opened the car door and stepped out into the street. He watched her enter the block of apartments, making sure she was safely inside before he pulled away from the sidewalk and re-joined the traffic. Making a last minute decision, he took a left turn instead of a right, wanting to avoid the noisy, clinking sound of drilling from the road workers. He turned down a couple of narrow side streets before pulling back onto a wider road. He drove for a mile before he realised, consciously, where he was. Just in time, he took a quick glance to his left and watched as a couple of store fronts rushed by. The one in the centre boasted a cross-shaped neon sign above the canopy and he wondered, vaguely, whether Jeong-sun was currently at work. He quickly turned his gaze back to the road, refusing to allow himself to linger on the thought. 
***
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sophiag-lts-blog · 5 years
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DRRM: Brgy. Sangandaan, Proj. 8, Q.C., LAGING HANDA!
As a freshman in the University of Santo Tomas, we are required to take up this course called NSTP (National Service and Training Program), and we’re currently focusing on what we call DRRM (Disaster Risk and Reduction Management). So what are all these and what do we do? Basically, we learn and get to know more about the different communities in the country, and how we can do our part and contribute to the overall well-being, happiness, and safety of the people who live in it. DRRM is grounded and focuses on four thematic areas: Disaster Prevention and mitigation, Disaster Preparedness, Disaster Response, and Disaster Rehabilitation and Recovery.
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For the past 7 years that I’ve lived in the humble and thriving community of Brgy. Sangandaan, I’ve never had the chance to interact with the people who worked in the barangay hall or office. And now, I’ve recently had the chance to have a walk and “kwentuhan” with one of the local head persons of our barangay’s DRRM: Sir Fidel Nisperos.
December 9, 2019, I visited the brgy. hall. All of the staff and workers who were there were very patient, kind and accommodating. And as I was waiting for Sir Nisperos, I was able to observe that the place has a very happy and healthy working environment, and all seemed very close to one another. This even brought a smile to my face. 
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Sir Fidel was kind enough to accommodate an interview with me even without prior schedule or notice. He enlightened me and shared with me almost entirely everything I needed to know about our barangay’s DRRM. 
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We first identified and analyzed the hazards, calamities, dangers, that may affect and disturb the peace and safety of the community. Sir mentioned a few specific incidents and calamities that have already occurred: in 2012, a large fire spread across 100 homes affecting around 200 families; in Bagyong Ondoy the floods were so great that it surpassed the height of an average Filipino and the height of three-story townhouses. We are now preparing for “the Big One”.
So how does DRRM prepare for this? To identify a nearing threat, they always stay updated with the weather forecast. They often hold earthquake drills (quarterly) in areas like the Savemore supermarket (Project 8) and the Villagers Montessori, because these are the places where a lot of people mostly gather. They are always alert and standing by, since the Blue ridge, Libis in Q.C. is the nearest fault line to us. Their evacuation emergency plan for any kind of calamity, is to escort people to the designated evacuation centers, namely: first plan is at the Mendoza covered court, then Ismael Mathay Sr. High school, since both are of the highest places in the district, and there are a lot of buildings. If ever it is too full, next is to evacuate to the church beside the Brgy. Hall, the Immaculate Conception Church. Last resort is to the private village, Paradise Village’s covered court (given their consent). 
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When it comes to mitigation, He said that they first look back at the previous incidents and what may have caused things to happen, and what may have gone wrong. As for instance, during Bagyong Ondoy, there wasn’t enough mitigation for it, and since then, the government has been continuously cooperating with the different districts to ensure that everyone is prepared. They also conduct inspections of hazards, such as large trees that may cause harm to people and houses next to them, so they eventually have to cut these trees down. They also frequently de-clog the sewers, and provide dissemination programs on proper cleaning of the home and environment to avoid illnesses and viruses such as Dengue, and hygiene programs.
We took a little walk around, this when we talked about the Depressed areas and the Informal settlers who live by the river and underneath the bridge. He said it to be one of their main concerns for a number of reasons: they are one of the main causes of the river’s pollution; it is dangerous to live underneath the bridge and beside the river, since one can easily fall into the river, or during storms, floods may easily surge them due to its overflow; they are the poorest in the society, therefore they don’t have the right drainage and septic tanks that enable them to avoid floods; since they are the ones usually most affected during calamities, most of the funds for financial assistance goes to them. At this moment they are still waiting for the government’s approval and provision for them to be relocated, and they are continuously encouraging them to consider this. This has to be one of the most hazardous places. Another is that there are a lot of stray dogs by the route I pass towards home, and two or three times they’ve already barked or threatened me (but didn’t harm me thankfully).
One of the safest spaces in the barangay has to be the area within the Brgy. Hall, beside it the Church and beside the Church is the Health Center. Having these three geographically close to one another gives (if not all, to me personally) a sense of security, safety, ensurance, and community. Personally based on my observation, one of the best practices my community has is cleanliness. I walk from place to place around the barangay very often, and I have hardly seen any trash such as wrappers or plastics lying around.
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In addition to these, I asked Sir Nispenos about the specific and various programs for the PWD, elderly, and the youth. For the Pwd, they have a list and record of them so that they’d know who to prioritize. For the Senior Citizens, they do their best to screen and identify the senior citizen indigents so that the people who first get the government pensions are those who really need it. And lastly for the Youth, there are life training programs, especially for those out of school, such as welding, automobile, call centers, sewing and dressmaking, cosmetology, etc. For those who wish to study, there are several scholarships offered, supported by the government and the diocese of Cubao. 
Personal insights
I think one of our main issues and concerns in our community is poverty. This has been the most obvious yet unresolved and dominating issue in our country, and I can see it clearly everyday as I pass by the bridge where the informal settlers live. Based on my own knowledge on politics and government programs, support and services, I think the government should focus on helping these informal settlers both find a proper home, and gain a sustainable way of earning money and making a living. The government should support them in a way that sometime in the near future they are then able to eventually support themselves. As Sir Fispenos said, most of the funds go to them since they are always the most affected, due to lack of resources, nd the lack of resources come from lack of sustainable jobs and income. Therefore, the cycle goes all over again. The allocation of our budget tends to be quite messy at times, but then again there are a lot of issues and concerns that need focus and I hope the government recognizes this. I simply realized how blessed I am to be able to live a comfortable life. I am thankful for the everyday blessings of having a happy and complete family, a religious community and a solid group of friends who are always there to support me, a roof over my head, having food to eat three or more times a day, studying in a prestigious university, and knowing and having a deep relationship with God. These things I try not to take for granted every day, and I eventually realize that everyone, every single child of God deserves to be loved and to be blessed with happiness and peace, all the days of their lives. That’s why we must in return share these blessings given to us. It is important to be socially aware of these issues and kinds of things, because it strengthens our sense of community, and helps us empathize more with the people around us. One concrete way is to be more active in social development programs, like me not only in NSTP, but in my religious org. wherein I am able to reach out to different kinds of people at different states of life. One suggested way is to also create my own action plan, so that I am able to openly share my personal thoughts and takes on an issue then it may eventually contribute to the greater good. 
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 Sources: https://sites.google.com/site/ismaelmathaysrhsqcsecondary/history-1 , https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwiso6Ol1LDmAhVT8XMBHWAvBicQjhx6BAgBEAI&url=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFile%3A03102jfBarangays_Church_Conception_Talipapa_Sangandaan_Quezon_Cityfvf_04.jpg&psig=AOvVaw1vBG8_kcajqoUVAgsGs0oZ&ust=1576258930208586 , https://foursquare.com/v/savemore-project-8/51511425e4b0fe2bab60f58d?openPhotoId=51a6d80d498e1575af11bb58 https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&ccid=17vSFTAP&id=EF31C8E734D970C54EA5A64AF405583ECDB67CDE&thid=OIP.17vSFTAPBzCazaZNrBltdwHaE7&mediaurl=https%3A%2F%2Fs.yimg.com%2Fny%2Fapi%2Fres%2F1.2%2F3xRorRyaPJ4VHMsZbVPUcg--%2FYXBwaWQ9aGlnaGxhbmRlcjtzbT0xO3c9MTI4MDtoPTk2MDtpbD1wbGFuZQ--%2Fhttp%3A%2F%2Fmedia.zenfs.com%2Fen_us%2FNews%2FReuters%2F2014-01-28T083908Z_1069901473_GM1EA1S1A3P01_RTRMADP_3_PHILIPPINES.JPG.cf.jpg&exph=853&expw=1280&q=poverty+quezon+city&simid=608007690116796036&selectedindex=1&ajaxhist=0&vt=0&sim=11
http://ndrrmc.gov.ph/attachments/article/41/NDRRM_Plan_2011-2028.pdf
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bountyofbeads · 5 years
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Democratic divides take center stage at first debate
https://wapo.st/31ZcPzE
SOULESS Trump 😢😭🖕👉“BORING!” he tweeted as the candidates began discussing the deaths of a father and daughter at the border.
Democratic divides take center stage at first debate
By Toluse Olorunnipa and Michael Scherr | Published June 27 at 12:16 AM ET | Washington Post | Posted June 27, 2019 |
Deep divides over health care and economic policy dominated the first Democratic presidential debate Wednesday, as 10 candidates jousted in Miami over the best formula for beating President Trump and fixing the economic struggles of the middle class. 
The result was a prime-time display — the first national event of the election season — showcasing economic and regulatory differences that have riven the Democratic Party, including transformative plans to eliminate private health insurance, fund free college for most Americans, break up giant corporations and impose sharp tax increases on the wealthiest Americans. 
The ambitious slate of proposals highlights the Democrats’ leftward shift, a trend Republicans are seeking to take advantage of by linking the party with socialism and government control. The generally sober event also highlighted one of the key dilemmas that Democrats face in their attempt to oust Trump — a bombastic showman whose name was only occasionally mentioned but whose presence loomed large over the proceedings.
Sen. Elizabeth Warren (Mass.), standing center stage with the most early attention from moderators, drove much of the debate with a passionate defense of disruptive plans that would face long odds of passage in Congress. She framed each of the issues as a question of determination, saying she was willing to fight and take on the “corruption in this system” that had created the problems. 
“We’ve had the laws out there for a long time to be able to fight back. What’s been missing is courage, courage in Washington to take on the giants,” she said. “I want to return government to the people, and that means calling out the names of the monopolists and saying I have the courage to go after them.”
Her rivals were forced to respond, though they avoided taking her on directly, trying to explain their plans as different routes to the same goal. 
“I do get concerned about paying for college for rich kids; I do,” said Sen. Amy Klobuchar (Minn.), a thinly veiled reference to plans supported by Warren to make public colleges free for all Americans.
But the two-hour debate proceeded without a significant viral or humorous moment to rival the kind of spectacle created by Trump during the 2016 debates that were dominated by the real estate developer’s shocking comments, off-color jokes and biting attacks on his rivals.
Trump’s campaign characterized the debate as “the best argument for President Trump’s reelection,” arguing that Democrats were proposing “a radical government takeover of American society that would demolish the American Dream so many are gaining access to under the growing Trump economy.”
Rather than paint a hopeful vision of the nation’s future, the Democrats onstage focused on the grim challenges facing the country — warning of a long list of serious threats to the nation’s well-being, such as corporate power, global warming, the humanitarian crises on the southern border and the growing economic power of China. 
Perhaps seeking to introduce themselves to a national audience, the candidates only rarely addressed one another directly or strayed from well-rehearsed lines.
When Sen. Cory Booker (N.J.) was asked about previous comments criticizing politicians who pledge to break up specific companies — as Warren has — he seemed to shift in Warren’s direction, saying “I don’t think I disagree” that corporate consolidation is a problem.
Former Texas congressman Beto O’Rourke gave his first answer in both Spanish and English, but he struggled to respond directly to the question about how high he would bring the marginal tax rate for the wealthy. He spoke instead about ending gerrymandering while bolstering the Voting Rights Act and same-day voter registration. 
“I would support a tax rate and a tax code that is fair to everyone,” he said, after the question was repeated to him. 
Wednesday’s debate marked the first of 12 scheduled by the Democratic Party, including at least two split over two nights, with 10 more candidates scheduled to appear in Miami on Thursday. Polls show a wide-open race, even as most of the 23 candidates struggle to register even 2 percent support.
Warren was the only candidate to appear polling in double digits, with clear momentum after months of tireless campaigning. Three other candidates, O’Rourke, Klobuchar and Booker, have been struggling to maintain the early expectations of their campaign announcements. Six more, including Rep. Tim Ryan (Ohio), Rep. Tulsi Gabbard (Hawaii) and Washington Gov. Jay Inslee, have found themselves struggling to be noticed in the crowded field. 
But all of the candidates were given a chance to weigh in on the key divides in the party. Only Warren and New York Mayor Bill de Blasio raised their hands when asked whether they would get rid of private health insurance.
“I understand: There are a lot of politicians who say , ‘Oh, it’s just not possible.’ . . .,” Warren said, fully embracing the single-payer health-care plan backed by Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.), who will be onstage Thursday. “What they’re really telling you is that they just won’t fight for it. But health care is a basic human right. And I will fight for it.”
The issue of immigration, an area of relative agreement in the Democratic Party, prompted one of the few fierce exchanges of the night — between the two Texas politicians on the stage. Former housing and urban development secretary Julián Castro sought to draw a contrast with O’Rourke by saying the former congressman opposed repealing part of U.S. immigration law that allows for criminal prosecution of migrants who come to the United States without proper documentation. Castro has called for decriminalizing undocumented immigration, a position Republicans have branded “open borders.”
“I think that you should do your homework on this issue,” Castro said, turning to O’Rourke. “If you did your homework on this issue you would know that we should repeal this section.”
O’Rourke said he favored immigration policies that ended the family separations that have taken place during the Trump administration, and to ensure that migrants seeking asylum are not detained.
For most of the candidates onstage, the debate marked one of only two chances they will have, in addition to the July debates, to spark the interest necessary to get them on the September debate stage, when the polling and donor qualification requirements will dramatically tighten. 
Several candidates made clear attempts to grab and hold the spotlight in the hopes of breaking through. 
At both ends of the stage, de Blasio and former Maryland congressman John Delaney, who poll the lowest, forced their way into the conversation repeatedly, with the former arguing he was the most passionate liberal on the stage and the latter playing the role of the most practical moderate.
“What we are hearing here already in the first round of questions is that battle for the heart and soul of our country,” de Blasio said. “This is supposed to be the party of working people. Yes, we’re supposed to be for a 70 percent tax rate on the wealthy.” 
Delaney responded by calling such ideas unrealistic. “I think we have to do real things to help American workers and the American people. Right?” he said. 
Booker’s strategy in the debate was to repeatedly personalize the issues that were raised. When talking about guns, he spoke about his Newark neighborhood where seven people were recently shot. “I live in a low-income black and brown community,” he said when asked about corporate consolidation. “I see every single day that this economy is not working for average Americans.”
Candidates focused mostly on policy but also spent time attacking Trump for his governing style and his record since taking office in 2017. Trump’s erratic approach to foreign policy came in for blistering attacks.
“I don’t think we should conduct foreign policy in our bathrobe at 5 in the morning,” Klobuchar said.
“This president and his chicken hawk Cabinet have led us to the brink of war with Iran,” Gabbard said. 
“The biggest threat to the security of the United States is Donald Trump,” Inslee said to applause. 
Ryan was one of several candidates who blamed Trump for conditions at the border, where migrants from Central America have been traveling in family groups, overwhelming U.S. facilities meant to house adults. Lawyers visiting some of the facilities have said that children in the facilities were living in squalor without access to basic hygiene items.
For his part, Trump weighed in from Air Force One, where he was en route to the Group of 20 summit in Japan. He focused on technical difficulties that forced NBC to cut to a commercial break when audio problems surfaced.
“.@NBCNews and @MSNBC should be ashamed of themselves for having such a horrible technical breakdown in the middle of the debate,” he tweeted from over the Pacific Ocean.
The president didn’t attack any specific Democrat during the debate, instead focusing on a candidate who was not on the stage.
“Ever since the passage of the Super Predator Crime Bill, pushed hard by @JoeBiden, together with Bill and Crooked Hillary Clinton, which inflicted great pain on many, but especially the African American Community, Democrats have tried and failed to pass Criminal Justice Reform,” Trump tweeted from his presidential plane before the debate even started. “Please ask why THEY failed to the candidates!”
 The president has repeatedly weighed in on the Democratic primary, and he spent part of Wednesday doing the same. His focus has largely been on Biden, who in early polling has been leading Trump in some key states. Biden will join Sanders and eight other Democratic candidates at Thursday’s debate.
On Wednesday, with Biden not on the stage, Trump appeared less interested in the actual substance of the debate.
“BORING!” he tweeted as the candidates began discussing the deaths of a father and daughter at the border.
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marathongirl · 6 years
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The Most Important Love
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If 20 years ago you had told me that one day I’d be posing for a photographer, outside, in lingerie, I would’ve thought you were crazy. But here I am, sharing exactly that. Why you ask?
Today is Valentine's Day; a day dedicated to celebrating love. It's also the middle of Eating Disorder Awareness month. And for me, this year marks 20 years since I've been in recovery; 20 years since I was diagnosed with a life-threatening eating disorder and admitted into inpatient care.
At this time in 1999, I was a very sick, 12-year old girl; a smart, sensitive, kind, 7th grade girl who was so concerned with pleasing everyone else that she didn't allow any room to love herself; a young girl who sought perfection as validation of her worth: perfection in her grades, and roles as a student, daughter, sister, and friend. A girl so focused on reaching perfection that she was unable to see the self-harm she was inflicting in the process.
20 years ago, I thought I had unlocked the key to my happiness. I was empowered by a new-found ability to strictly control my eating and exercising behaviors. I was riding on the initial endorphins that came with a new fitness routine and diet. My new way of life was a way of coping with a manifestation of insecurity, self-doubt, and self-hate; those feelings that stemmed from innate emotional sensitivity, combined with the pain that came from coping with precocious puberty as a young girl.
Having grown up in a society that worships beauty and slenderness, the "chubby" and "fat" comments over the years had done wonders to my already low self-esteem, and my drive towards perfectionism. But now, I had a way to channel all of those negative feelings and thoughts into something powerful, and something that I could control; something that would allow me to finally be perfect. And that thing was Anorexia.
A common misconception with Anorexia is that it's rooted in vanity; that Anorexia is a fancy term for privileged girls who starve themselves strictly because they want the attention that comes from being thin. Well, in my case, that assumption could not be farther from the truth. For me, Anorexia was my hidden secret; my outlet for coping with life and all of the demands that I placed on myself. I didn't want people to see it. I wanted to hide it away; to protect it from the rest of the world. It was my safe place; my haven; my secret weapon; the thing that was just MINE; not for anyone else to see or acknowledge.
And for a long time, I did hide it. I physically hid it behind baggy sweatshirts. I didn't wear make-up or spend time on my hair. I didn't wear the tighter jeans that other girls wore. Because the last thing that I wanted was to call attention to my appearance. And the more my disordered eating and exercising worsened, the more I isolated myself from everyone. Whenever anyone expressed concern, I'd have an excuse or a lie handy. I would do anything to protect the thing that I thought was saving me.
And eating disorders don't just starve the body; they starve the mind. The lack of nutrients starves your brain and you're incapable of seeing the world clearly. Everything becomes clouded and distorted. The disordered eating triggers disordered thinking, and eventually, you spiral out of control and crash. You go from feeling powerful and elated, to feeling powerless and defeated.
And inevitably, I crashed; I crashed hard. I crashed to the point of being unable to get myself out of bed one morning. And on that day, I was fortunate enough to have an amazing support system that got me the help that I needed.
Since that day, which was undoubtedly my "rock bottom", I've experienced a lot of peaks and dips in the recovery process. While I'd love nothing more than to say that 20 years later, I'm fully recovered, the reality is that recovery is a journey; not a destination.
These past couple of years have been a test of my strength, resilience, humility, and ongoing recovery. After going through a divorce, and experiencing all of the life changes and stresses that come with that, I've felt the tug of my eating disorder once again, trying to pull me back into the comfort of familiarity and control. There have been many times when I've felt like I'm not good enough - as a mother, friend, or significant other. I haven't been kind to myself. I've set the bar far too high. I haven't allowed myself the space and permission to heal and grieve and take time for myself.  And at moments I've felt myself both consciously and unconsciously, slip into old thought patterns and behaviors.
So this year, 2019, I made a vow to be kinder to myself; to stop beating myself up; to stop allowing others to determine my worth; to give myself permission to move at a slower pace, and feel whatever I need to feel in that moment without allowing impatience or guilt to hinder that process. To be more mindful about the choices I'm making for my mind and body. To make sure that I'm projecting the kind of self-love and self-compassion that I want to see in my own son, so that he doesn't doubt his worth. And to remind myself that I am strong, and capable, and that my value is determined by the love and kindness that I show myself and others.
This photo was taken a few years ago, as part of a shoot that I did with a VT photographer, at a time in life when I felt healthy and confident. It was one of the most empowering experiences I've ever had; to be photographed while standing boldly, in the open, in lingerie. A few times people drove by and I felt embarrassed, but then I reminded myself why I was doing this. This was my moment; it was like raising a middle finger to anything and anyone that has ever made me doubt my worth. It was a celebration of who I am, and what I've overcome.
I had not publicly shared any of the photos prior to now, because in true perfectionist fashion, I feared the response. I worried that people would look at my photos as a reflection of vanity.
But as I think about the last 20 years, I feel grateful and humbled that despite the toll that my eating disorder has taken on my body, I have endured. This body has overcome precocious puberty and the bullying that comes with it; it's given life to a beautiful boy; it's run a marathon; it is strong and powerful and something I'm focusing on loving, instead of punishing.
And I'm hopeful that this Valentine's Day, whether you're celebrating alone or with a special person, that you can take a moment to acknowledge your own worth, and to remember that the most important love of all is the love that we show ourselves.
..And that sometimes the best way to embrace that love is by sitting on an antique piano chair, on an old bridge in VT, wearing a garter and thigh highs and appreciating how incredibly insane and wonderful it feels to do just that.
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theatredirectors · 6 years
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Nell Bang-Jensen
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Hometown? 
Burlington, VT.
Where are you now?  
Based in Philadelphia, PA. 
What's your current project? 
Right now I'm a Director-in-Residence at Carleton College, representing Pig Iron Theatre Company. I'm working with students to devise an original play about technology, that uses no technology.  It's a melodrama, performed under clip lights, that uses mimed screens and devices as a metaphor to explore missed and made connections. 
Why and how did you get into theatre? 
Like almost everyone on this blog, I started out acting in plays in elementary, middle and high school. I was living outside of New York at the time and loved the magic of theater. I have a vivid memory of seeing Les Miserables (my first Broadway show) for my 10th birthday and coming out of the theater to discover it was snowing.  I remember feeling in that moment that everything felt heightened and more alive. The school theater departments I was part of were not particularly inspirational (I had a director in high school who would determine casting by lining us up by height to ensure the female lead was not taller than the male lead!) but while at Swarthmore College, I discovered devising (in particular, Pig Iron), and fell in love with the idea that new theater could be created from the people in the room. That kind of authorship was exciting to me. 
What is your directing dream project? 
I like art-making in collaboration with members of a community, and because of that, I don't go into shows with many prescribed ideas. One of my directing dream projects is currently underway. It is a devised piece I'm making with Philadelphia boys ages 10-12 years old to explore what masculinity looks like to a new generation. Through a process of story circles, we're exploring what it means to project yourself onto ideals of manhood in an era when gender is fluid and masculinity is often villainized. 
What kind of theatre excites you? 
I like theater that's like a parade. Since a young age, parades have made me cry; I think the effort of people coming together to create a spectacle that is totally superfluous is undeniably beautiful. The theater I love celebrates this kind of civic engagement. It is virtuosic and transcendent, or if not those things, hilarious, awkward and bumbling. It shakes us from our daily reality. It unsettles and awakens in a communal space. 
What do you want to change about theatre today?
I want to challenge the binary of who is an artist and who is not.  I want us all to have more resources to do our work, and even if we don't, operate from a mindset of abundance rather than scarcity. I want more transparency, more equity, more inclusivity, more accessibility.  I want us to get rid of expectations for how audiences should or should not behave. What is your opinion on getting a directing MFA? 
I think if someone wants to take time to work on their craft in a concentrated environment, an MFA is a great option. I also don't think anyone should feel they have to do that---there aren't hard and fast rules for anyone's career. 
Who are your theatrical heroes? 
Pig Iron Theater, Lear deBessonet, Cornerstone Theater, Maria Goyanes, Emilya Cachapero, Joseph Papp, Brandon Jacobs-Jenkins, Becky Wright, my fellow rising artistic leaders in my TCG Leadership U cohort, and SO MANY MORE. Anyone who is able to clarify their values and then enact those values in their work. 
Any advice for directors just starting out? 
Go see a lot of plays and talk about them. Work with people you actually like being around. 
Plugs! 
I was just given a Next Stage Director's residency through the Drama League and am developing Nosejob (working title), a devised play chronicling twelve centuries of consent, power and penance, as told by 9th century nuns and a contemporary football team. I'm really excited about it.
People can also check out my website at www.nellbangjensen.com 
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bloojayoolie · 6 years
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Andrew Bogut, Beautiful, and Cats: ON the NYC Kill List 6 years young Only 29 lbs Stunning & ON the NYC Kill List !!! HELP!!! ADOPT MEI Please, don't let them kill me !!! Brownie 43078 Gorgeous Brownie is 6 years young, only 29 lbs, healthy & ON the NYC Kill List! HELP!! FOR A NEW Family To KNOW: Brownie is described as a AFFECTIONATE, PLAYFUL & FRIENDLY little guy. He loves following his person around, chase balls & play with any toy he can get his pretty paws on. House-trained, well-behaved, he very much enjoyed walks around the neighborhood. Given up for a new baby, this sweetheart would love to be YOUR new Baby so PLEASE, APPLY NOW to make him yours but HURRY, he IS Out Of Time :( Adorable little Brownie WILL DIE at the Manhattan, NY ACC UNLESS RESERVED/FOSTERED/ADOPTED/RESCUED RIGHT NOW!!! Just DO IT! Save his Life RIGHT NOW!!! ***** To Be KILLED 10/11/18 in NYC ***** Gorgeous little Brownie is 6 years young, only 29 lbs, & BACK ON the NYC Kill List !!! HELP !!! FOR A NEW Family To KNOW: Brownie is described as a AFFECTIONATE, PLAYFUL & FRIENDLY little guy. He loves following his person around, chase balls & play with any toy he can get his pretty paws on. House-trained, well-behaved, he very much enjoyed walks around the neighborhood. Given up for a new baby, this sweetheart would love to be YOUR new Baby so PLEASE, APPLY NOW to make him yours but HURRY, he IS Out Of Time :( Adorable little Brownie WILL DIE at the Manhattan, NY ACC UNLESS RESERVED/FOSTERED/ADOPTED/RESCUED RIGHT NOW!!! Just DO IT! Save his Life RIGHT NOW!!! Brownie 43078 Hello, my name is Brownie. My animal id is #43078. I am a male black dog at the Manhattan Animal Care Center. The shelter thinks I am about 6 years 1 weeks old. I only weigh 29 lbs. Please, Please, Please, save me! I came into the shelter as a owner surrender on 1-Oct-2018, with the surrender reason stated as person circumstance - new baby. :'( May I be YOUR new baby, pleeeeease? **************************************** To FOSTER or ADOPT beautiful little Brownie, SPEAK UP NOW & Save a Life, APPLY with rescues OR message Must Love Dogs - Saving NYC Dogs IMMEDIATELY!!!! **************************************** The general rule is to foster you have to be within 4 hours of the NYC ACC approved New Hope partner rescues you are applying with and to adopt you will have to be in the general NE US area; NY, NJ, CT, PA, DC, MD, DE, NH, RI, MA, VT & ME (some rescues will transport to VA). ✔Pledge✔Tag✔Share✔Foster✔Adopt✔Save a life! Thank you for caring! ================================= "Rescue only" means a foster or adopter must live within the Northeastern states and must apply to rescues already approved to pull from NYC ACC shelters. Rescues can't do anything without APPLICATIONS! If your application is approved, rescue will arrange transport. ================================= Basic Information: Brownie is a 6 year old male. He is a black and tan medium mixed breed. He is in our care because his previous owner was expecting a new born and had no space in her apartment. Previously lived with: 1 adult How is this dog around strangers? Brownie is described as shy for a couple of minutes but once warmed up to you he becomes friendly and outgoing. How is this dog around children? Behavior around children is unknown How is this dog around other dogs? Behavior around dogs is unknown How is this dog around cats? Behavior around cats is unknown Resource guarding: Brownie allows for his food and water bowls to be touched. He allows for treats and toys to be taken from him. If told to get off the couch he will ignore you Bite history: NONE Brownie did not attempt to bite or scratch his previous owner House trained: Yes Energy level/descriptors: medium, affectionate, friendly Other Notes: Brownie enjoys baths and having his coat brushed. When attempting to trim his nails he would pull his paws away but not growl or attempt to snap or bite. If someone unfamiliar approaches you or the house he isn't bothered. Has this dog ever had any medical issues? No Medical Notes there are no know health concerns noted at the time of intake For a New Family to Know: Brownie is described as a shy, affectionate and playful guy. In the home he tends to follow you around or be in the same room as you. He loves to chase his toy balls around the home. Brownie is house trained and will rarely have accidents if he is kept on a schedule. In the home he will destroy things, if left out of his play pen. For exercise he enjoys slow walks around the neighborhood, brownie was never walked off leash Behavior Asilomar TM - Treatable-Manageable Recommendations: No children (under 13)/Place with a New Hope partner. Recommendations comments: No children: Due to how uncomfortable Brownie is currently with novel stimuli, we feel that an adult-only home would be most beneficial at this time. Place with a New Hope partner: Brownie is very fearful at the care center and has snapped when leashed and during some handling. We recommend placement with a New Hope partner who can provide any necessary behavior modification (force-free, positive reinforcement-based) and re-evaluate behavior in a stable home environment before placement into a permanent home. Potential challenges: Fearful/potential for defensive aggression Potential challenges comments: Fearful/potential for defensive aggression: Brownie is described as being shy with new people. At the care center, he has been fearful with new people and has snapped. It is important to always go slow and give Brownie the option to walk away from any social interaction. Brownie should never be forced to approach anything that he is uncomfortable with or to submit to petting or handling. It should always be Brownie’s choice to approach a new person or thing. Brownie would do best in an initially calm and quiet home environment and should be given time to acclimate to his new surroundings. ... NOTE: *** WE HAVE NO OTHER INFORMATION THAN WHAT IS LISTED WITH THIS FLYER *** ... RE: ACC site Just because a dog is not on the ACC site does not mean they are safe by any means. There are many reasons for this like a hold or an eval has not been conducted yet or the dog is rescue-only... the list goes on... Please, do share & apply to foster/adopt these pups as well until their thread is updated with their most current status. TY! ============ Shelter address ========== - Brooklyn Shelter: 2336 Linden Boulevard, Brooklyn, NY 11208 - Manhattan Shelter: 326 East 110 St., New York, NY 10029 - Staten Island Shelter: 3139 Veterans Road, West Staten Island, NY 10309 - Phone number: 212-788-4000 (is automated only) Operating hours: Monday through Friday 12.00pm to 8.00pm, Saturday & Sunday: 10.00am to 6.00pm. Closed on all Holidays.. ================================= == About Must Love Dogs - Saving NYC Dogs == We are a group of advocates (NOT a shelter NOR a rescue group) dedicated to finding loving homes for NYC dogs in desperate need. ALL the dogs on our site need Rescue, Fosters, or Adopters & that ASAP as they are in NYC high-kill shelters. If you cannot foster or adopt, please share them far & wide. Thank you for caring!! <3 ================================ Donna Darrell Lorraine Healy Jody Harris-Stern Michele DeSanti Carole Zollo Jane Kleinsinger
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