#bumper recruitment

[rightnewshindi]

Medical Jobs 2024: मेडिकल स्टूडेंट्स के लिए इस राज्य में निकली बंपर भर्ती, 39100 रुपए तक मिलेगा वेतन; जानें पूरी डिटेल

MPPSC Recruitment 2024: मेडिकल की पढ़ाई करने के बाद सरकारी नौकरी करने का सपना देख रहे उम्मीदवारों के लिए अच्छी खबर है. मध्य प्रदेश लोक सेवा आयोग (MPPSC) ने एक नोटिफिकेशन जारी किया है. जिसके अनुसार राज्य में बंपर पदों पर भर्ती की जाएगी. इस अभियान के लिए आवेदन करने की शुरूआत जल्द होगी. आवेदन करने के इच्छुक और पात्र उम्मीदवार आधिकारिक साइट mppsc.mp.gov.in पर जाकर आवेदन कर सकते हैं. भर्ती से जुड़ी…

[vocaltv]

Sarkari Naukri 2023: इस विभाग में 500 पदों पर निकली बंपर भर्ती, इस तारीख तक कर सकते हैं आवेदन

मुख्यमंत्री भूपेश बघेल के निर्देशानुसार प्रदेश में विभिन्न विभागों द्वारा रिक्त पदों की भर्ती के लिए विज्ञापन जारी किए जा रहे हैं। इसी तारतम्य में आदिम जाति तथा अनुसूचित जाति विकास विभाग द्वारा छात्रावास अधीक्षक श्रेणी ‘‘द’’ के 500 पदों पर भर्ती की जाएगी। यह पद छत्तीसगढ़ के स्थानीय निवासी अभ्यर्थियों से योग्यता अनुसार भरे जाएंगे। छत्तीसगढ़ लोक सेवा आयोग द्वारा आयोग की वेबसाइट https://psc.cg.gov.in/…

[wizardofahz]

Time's Favorite Superhero

Fandoms: Fringe, 12 Monkeys A/N: Happy 10th end-of-Fringe-aversary! This was written in Cassie's POV, but hopefully it should be readable to 12 Monkeys and Fringe fans alike.

Cassie takes in the lab before her. It was not what she'd imagined, old-fashioned as it is, when the FBI had come to her for help. She had expected something fancier, high-tech, because despite how much government agencies enjoyed griping about their budgets, surely the elite teams got the latest and greatest, right?

Behind them, their FBI guide slips away. A different FBI agent approaches. "Hi. I'm Agent Olivia Dunham with the F--"

"Woah," Jennifer draws out in a long exhale before exclaiming, "Hey, Otter Eyes!" Given their close proximity, Cole jerks back at the volume. "I found someone Time likes as much as you." Jennifer turns back to Agent Dunham with dual finger guns. "You gotta die, but Time will always find a way to bring you back."

"Jennifer!" Cassie scolds. She knows holding the entire timeline in her head is difficult for Jennifer, but she also hoped Jennifer would know better than to talk to people about their deaths by now.

Jennifer observes Agent Dunham carefully.

"Spoiler alert?" she says more contemplatively than guiltily. If Cassie had to guess, Jennifer is sorting through the timeline and double checking which events have already happened.

In the background, an older man in a lab coat leans into the younger man beside him and asks, "Is she an Observer?"

Agent Dunham has clearly experienced her share of weirdness. She barely reacts beyond a quirked eyebrow, and her voice is dry when she responds, "By all accounts, I have died a couple times."

"Right on!" Jennifer cheers as if Coach Time had drawn up a brilliant play and Agent Dunham followed through with a crowd-rousing dunk. She holds up a hand, asking for a high-five that Agent Dunham doesn't seem inclined to reciprocate.

To save them all from further awkwardness, Cassie sticks her hand out in Agent Dunham's direction. "I'm Dr. Cassandra Railly, a virologist with the CDC, but you can call me Cassie."

Jennifer pouts when Agent Dunham reaches for Cassie's hand instead of her own.

Between Jennifer's eccentricities and Cole's lingering post-apocalyptic gremlin social skills, Cassie decides to make the rest of the introductions herself. "That is Jennifer Goines, CEO of the Markridge Group, and this is James Cole."

Agent Dunham's gaze settles on Jennifer, reappraising, then lands on Cole. "And what's your role?"

Cole shrugs. "I just have a vested interest in making sure this sort of thing doesn't happen again."

"Again?"

"You know how it is," Cassie steps in. No one needs to know about the pandemic-induced apocalypse they broke time to fix. "Humanity likes repeating history, pandemics included."

"Oh yes," the older man says, sounding entirely too excited.

"This is Dr. Walter Bishop" -- Agent Dunham says, quickly cutting off what Cassie can only assume is Dr. Bishop's incoming pathogenic fanfare -- "and Peter Bishop."

She doesn't expand on Peter Bishop's credentials, but there's clearly a familial resemblance. It seems theirs is not the only family in the world-saving business.

Speaking of families.

Still pouting from the rejection, Jennifer turns her frustration on Cassie.

"I can practically hear Frau Grandma when you say my name like that. 'Ms. Goines,'" she says in mimicry of Jones' disapproving voice, then in Cassie's, "Jennifer."

Agent Dunham clears her throat, a noise bordering on impatience, and begins debriefing Cassie's contingent on the weaponized virus the Fringe team found. The situation is relatively contained at the moment, but they want a cure developed in case of a potential breach.

Cassie and Jennifer join the Bishops in tackling the problem. Agent Dunham sits to the side, occasionally watching and asking questions, but mostly reviewing whatever case evidence they have.

Cole also situates himself elsewhere, antsy with nothing to do. His eyes flit towards Agent Dunham often. She's the only one with a gun and therefore the biggest potential threat, but Cassie notes an underlying curiosity, probably wondering what also made her special in Time's eyes.

Cassie would be curious too, but she has bigger fish to fry. Actually, no. Wrong animal. Because as pressing as another global pandemic is, her most immediate concern is herding cats, super genius cats with an infinite capacity and penchant for chaos. The synergy of Walter and Jennifer is frankly too much for one person to handle.

Peter helps of course. He's friendly and personable, but more importantly he's familiar with Walter's quirks in the same way that Cassie is familiar with Jennifer's. When dealing with such unique minds though, familiarity can only get them so far.

Walter sends Peter in the direction of some shelves and demands a stabilizing agent. "Quickly, Peter!"

"How am I supposed to find it when nothing is organized?" Peter asks with an exasperated petulance only a son could achieve.

"Everything is organized," Walter grumbles. "Where is Astrid? She would know where it is."

Jennifer bites her lip as she carefully pipettes 3 mL from a beaker raised to eye level. Task successfully completed, she responds, "On honeymoon with her wife."

Peter pauses his search and frowns. "How did you know that?"

"Hello???" Jennifer flings her arms out, and Cassie quickly grabs the beaker from her hand. "Primary! Give me yellow and I can paint you the world! Speaking of which, I never got them a present. Do they want a unicorn?"

Cassie doesn't bring up the fact that Jennifer doesn't even know this Astrid, not personally anyway. "Focus," is all she says.

"I want a unicorn," Walter says, focusing on the wrong thing.

"Walter."

Agent Dunham's curt, no-nonsense tone proves the most effective at getting everyone to focus on the problem at hand. Cassie gives her an appreciative nod.

They get in a few hours of productive work before Walter starts wandering around his lab and rifling through his own things.

Peter sighs. "What are you looking for now?"

"My stash of Brown Betty."

Cassie has no idea what that is, but the injection of disapproval, or is it alarm, in Peter's voice has her paying more attention. "No, absolutely not."

"We have been working on this for days," Walter protests. "I need to reset my mind, open it up to a new perspective."

"That's why Olivia brought in Dr. Railly and her team."

"Chill, dude," Jennifer says, once again dipping into her omniscience and leaving Cassie behind. "It's not like he's suggesting we break out the LSD."

Oh, they're talking about drugs.

Oh.

Oh no.

Dealing with Walter and Jennifer sober is already a lot. Cassie is absolutely not up for dealing with them on hallucinogenics.

"What about a food break?" Cassie suggests.

"That's a good idea," Agent Dunham says, and what she says goes.

They end up getting burgers and wraps. Cole ignores their cow's protests and digs right in.

(Right, because they have a cow… Maybe their cow is like Jennifer's turtle. Who knows? Certainly not Cassie.)

"Why yellow?" Walter asks Jennifer. "I merely ask to ascertain which set of primary colors you abide by. You mentioned painting, which leads me to believe your primary system is completed with blue and red, rather than cyan and magenta."

The two talk about Primaries and the Observers that Walter mentioned earlier.

Cassie is happy to let their discussion wash over her until Walter says, "We've had our own dabblings with primary colors of course, but RGB like the cones in our eyes. A simple pattern to induce hypnosis. Green, green, green, red. Green, green, green, red."

Walter's voice morphs into Olivia Kirschner's, ringing in Cassie's ears.

You're walking through a red forest, and the grass is tall. It's just rained. Most of the blood has washed away.

In front of her eyes, a green forest ends, making way for a clearing of tall grass. The scene flashes, green turning to red.

Cassie can't stop her tense voice from wobbling just a little. "Can we not?"

Cole takes a break from ravishing his cheeseburger to give her a look of concern. She waves him off.

Sufficiently rejuvenated after their food break, the scientists get back to work. Heat-shock proteins show the most promise for a treatment strategy, but they find that the virus adapts quickly to rising temperatures. If they can "speed up a fever" and surprise the virus with a high temperature before it can adapt, they might get a culture to produce the immune response they need.

That's a big if.

Brow furrowed and eyes closed, Cassie pinches the bridge of her nose. "There's no way we can instantaneously jump the solution to the right temperature. You might as well be asking for spontaneous human combustion."

"Yes!" Walter claps his hands together. "Olivia!"

"Yes!" Jennifer echoes. She puts on a dramatic voice as if narrating an action movie trailer. "Time for Time's favorite superhero." Then she snorts with laughter. "Ha! Time for Time..."

"No," Agent Dunham says, and to Cassie's surprise, she's reluctant instead of dismissive.

"I'm sorry, superhero?" Cole asks, tone mostly disbelieving but also a little put out.

So Cassie was right. He had been sussing out the competition for Time's favorite, so to speak.

"Don't worry, Otter Eyes," Jennifer says. "You're still Time's favorite non-superhero."

"I don't know how to--" Agent Dunham gestures vaguely at the equipment in front of them.

"You use your powers more than you know," Jennifer says, unusually gentle. "It's why I like being around you. You're so determined, you force Time and all its possibilities to chill. If you can dream a better world, you can make a better world. Makes things a little quieter." She taps the side of her head.

"So what exactly is your superpower?" Cole asks Agent Dunham.

But it's Walter who announces proudly, "Telekinesis."

"What, like making things move around?" Cole continues skeptically. "How is that going to help with your virus thing?"

"Olivia's powers can work at the molecular and even the particle level."

Cassie turns to Agent Dunham as understanding dawns. "So you can direct the speed of the solvent molecules, which will give us the exact temperature we need."

"But I can't control it." The impenetrable aura of Agent Dunham is buckling now, self-doubt making itself known. "Give me a dying patient and then maybe it'll happen, but I can't do it by just staring at a petri dish."

"Hmm." Jennifer taps her chin in thought. "Like the light box bomb."

"We are not attaching a bomb to any of this," Peter growls.

Cassie doesn't know what a light box bomb is or how it relates to the situation, but she does know that Agent Dunham is looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"Hey," she says, approaching Agent Dunham in her least threatening manner. "Do you have somewhere more private we can go? Why don't you come with me, and we'll figure it out."

Cassie doesn't know if her words are all that compelling -- she knows less about the other woman's powers than most in the room -- but Agent Dunham seems to appreciate the opportunity to escape. She gives Cassie a brief nod and then leads her to an adjoining office space.

Agent Dunham isn't exactly the most talkative character, and under stressful circumstances, that seems to hold even more true. Cassie finds herself having to speak first.

"What's your preferred breathing technique when firing a gun?"

The non-sequitur proves effective at pulling Agent Dunham out of her funk. Her eyes snap to Cassie's. "Excuse me?"

"You know: respiratory pause, half-hold; that kind of thing."

"You shoot?"

"It's not a skill that I thought I'd ever pick up, but--" Cassie shrugs. "Life has a way of twisting things around."

She nearly mentions what a good shot she is, how she's better than Cole, who taught her, but then she figures that would probably make Agent Dunham nervous about leaving him with the Bishops.

"The reason I ask," Cassie continues, "is that maybe we can borrow something you're familiar with and transfer it to getting your powers working when you want them to, make it feel more natural."

They work through it that way. One step at a time, seeing what works for Agent Dunham and what doesn't. They borrow other pieces of shooting advice, such as "squeeze, don't pull" for fine-tuned control.

It's still slow going, but they get there in the end. Agent Dunham manages enough control to activate a few test-retest cultures, and the scientists find a potential cure ready for human testing if the need ever arises.

"Thank you for your help," Agent Dunham says as the visitors prepare to leave, and Cassie knows she's talking about more than just the virus.

"I'm glad it worked out," Cassie says, also talking about more than just the virus.

"Auf wiedersehen, Time's favorite superhero," Jennifer says, suddenly appearing and draping an arm around each woman. She tells Agent Dunham, "Tell Astrid she'll have a unicorn waiting for her when she gets back. Would you like a unicorn too? You are after all, a unicorn, among humans."

"I would still like a unicorn," Walter says.

"Three unicorns coming right up," Jennifer crows cheerfully.

"Say good-bye, Jennifer," Cassie says. She'll have to warn Agent Dunham that the unicorns are very real.

She doesn't miss Agent Dunham's grateful look as she drags Jennifer away.

[bharatlivenewsmedia]

Bumper recruitment 13 हजार पदांसाठी बंपर भरती

Bumper recruitment 13 हजार पदांसाठी बंपर भरती

Bumper recruitment 13 हजार पदांसाठी बंपर भरती तुम्ही सरकारी नोकरीच्या शोधात असाल तर ही बातमी फक्त तुमच्यासाठी आहे. केंद्रीय विद्यालय संघटना (KVS)ने अध्यापन आणि अशैक्षणिक पदांसाठी 13,404 रिक्त जागा जाहीर केल्या आहेत. यामध्ये प्राथमिक शिक्षक, टीजीटी, पीजीटी आणि संगीत शिक्षक, प्राचार्य आणि उपमुख्याध्यापक या पदांसाठी 11 हजार 744 जागा रिक्त आहेत. उर्वरित भरती शिक्षकेतर कर्मचारी वर्गाच्या पदांसाठी…

[best24news]

Haryana Jobs: हरियाणा रोडवेज मे निकली डाईवरो की बंफर भर्ती, ऑनलाइन करे अप्लाई

Haryana Jobs: हरियाणा रोडवेज मे निकली डाईवरो की बंफर भर्ती, ऑनलाइन करे अप्लाई

हरियाणा: हरियाणा कौशल रोजगार निगम (HKRN) ने हरियाणा के युवाओं को बड़ी खुशखबरी दी है. हरियाणा सरकार ने 1300 से ज्यादा नई बसों को खरीदने का फैसला लिया था. अब इन बसों के लिए हरियाणा कौशल रोजगार निगम ने हरियाणा रोडवेज ड्राइवर भर्ती (HKRN Haryana Roadways Driver Vacancy 2022) के लिए आधिकारिक नोटिस जारी किया है. WhatsApp यूजर्स को बड़ा झटका, दीवाली के दिन इन Phones में नहीं चलेगा व्हाट्सएप   जो भी साथी…

[is-this-yuri]

bumper sticker that says 'i run over military recruitment ads'

[kaisacobra]

Eyes On The Prize - Hope Mikaelson

Summary: Hope just wants you to have the best time of your life at the new Mystic Falls funfair

Warnings: Fem!reader, pure fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

Hope almost couldn't believe it when Alaric announced to the students that they would be allowed to visit the new Mystic Falls funfair.

Of course, along with the permission came an authoritative warning from the headmaster, reminding the young ones to be discreet and not to use their abilities to gain an advantage in the games, but at this point, everyone was so excited that the words of caution were barely heard.

Hope glanced to the side with a smile on her face, finding the happy expressions of her other friends who were celebrating the permission as a victory, and, of course, you, who were already exchanging looks with the girl with your own laughter.

To be honest, Hope had already planned a way to escape from Salvatore School with her group of friends as soon as she found out about the fair through Lizzie. She was supposed to sneak out at night with the Saltzman twins, Kaleb, MG, and you, who were secretly the reason why she had planned this little transgression.

The connection between the two of you was almost immediate ever since you were rescued by Alaric on one of his recruiting missions. He brought you to the boarding school so you could better control your powers, and Hope was assigned (more like forced, at the time) to give you a tour of the property.

At first, the tension between you was palpable. You could hardly look at Hope, averting your eyes shyly every time you noticed she was looking at you, and Hope was never the best at first impressions, which made her wonder how she should act around you.

But somehow, your conversation started and never stopped. In no time, you had come to understand Hope better than anyone and made her feel relaxed in a way that was normally reserved only for her family.

With time, she began to notice that she couldn't help but smile when you laughed, that you were the first person she looked for in any room, and that she completely lost focus when she looked at you because you became the only thing on her mind. Hope wasn't stupid. She knew very well that her feelings for you had crossed the line from friendship into something much more intense.

And that's why when you mentioned that you had never been to a fair after Lizzie mentioned the Mystic Falls fresh attraction, Hope took it as a personal mission to make you go and have the time of your life.

With Alaric's permission, the old plan of sneaking out and stealing two cars to get to the town was discarded, but still, the group of friends remained excited as they stepped out of the school van, catching their first glimpses of the festival's vibrant colors.

"This is so beautiful," you sighed in admiration as soon as you stepped alongside Hope. Mikaelson looked at your side profile, enjoying the way your eyes seemed to shine with the sight of countless fun possibilities awaiting you.

"It really is," Hope replied, her gaze fixed on you. She definitely wasn't talking about the decorations.

"Hey! Let's take a picture in the hall of mirrors!" Josie requested, already pulling you by the arm in that direction. You briefly glanced at Hope and signaled that you'd be back soon, causing the blue-eyed girl to decide to wait for you at the entrance.

Kaleb and MG headed toward the bumper cars, but Lizzie stayed with Mikaelson, looking at her with a teasing smile. "Are you finally going to tell y/n about your crush?"

"Shut up, Lizzie," Hope turned her head, hoping that the blonde couldn't see her blushing face. As good as Hope was at hiding her emotions most of the time, it seemed obvious to everyone that she had a little crush on you.

Everyone except you, of course.

"Ugh, you guys are so frustrating," Lizzie huffed, crossing her arms in irritation. "So, what are you going to do today? Follow her around like a lost puppy, just like at school?"

"I don't—" Hope tried to formulate an argument, her cheeks burning from the feeling of being caught. "I just want her to have fun today, that's all."

Seemingly having lost the last remnants of her patience, the blonde Saltzman grabbed Hope by the shoulders and gently shook her back and forth. "For the love of god, just do something! No one can stand you two looking at each other like you're in a 2000s teen romance movie!"

"Okay, that was very specific," Hope removed Lizzie's hands from her, but she opened a shy smile as she processed the girl's words better. "Do you think she looks at me that way too?"

The twin threw her hands up in frustration. "Jesus, what did I do to deserve this? Of course she does! Are you both blind or something?!"

Hope pondered for a few seconds. It wasn't a secret to anyone that the two of you were closer to each other than to anyone else, but the Mikaelson never thought that it could be a sign of interest on your part. She thought about the times you turned to her first to celebrate a touchdown during games against Mystic Falls, the times you went to her room in the middle of the night because you couldn't sleep, and most importantly, the times you held her hand when she needed comfort, which was more frequent than Hope would like to admit.

"What do you think I should do, exactly?" The girl asked cautiously, beginning to consider the idea of making a move on you.

Lizzie rolled her eyes and gestured around with her arms, indicating the festive environment they were in. "Look around! A funfair is a great place to have a date without it looking like a date. Seize the opportunity and, I don't know, be romantic."

"I'll give it a try," Hope smiled and nodded to the blonde. "You're actually decent at this love advice thing. I don't know why you can't use it on yourself."

"Listen here, you garden gnome—"

Before Lizzie could properly retaliate to Hope's teasing, you and Josie joined the two of them again with amused smiles on your faces. "Are you two bickering again? Don't you ever get tired of it?"

Taking advantage of the distraction caused by Josie's words, Hope moved closer to your side and linked her arm with yours, feeling the area where your skin touched growing warmer. "Want to go check out some games with me?"

You looked to the side and happily confirmed as soon as your eyes met the tribrid's. Hope began to pull you further into the festival, making sure not to look back when you turned to wave goodbye to the twins, knowing that Lizzie would have the most insufferable expression on her face.

The two of you began to venture further into the decorated streets of Mystic Falls, appreciating every detail that made the fair more vivid and exciting. The line for the Ferris wheel, glowing in shades of blue, was long, children screamed with excitement as they bumped into their friends on the bumper cars, and hundreds of people passed by you, holding candy apples or cotton candy in their hands.

"Have you been to many of these?" You started the conversation after a moment of silence. At some point, you had started holding Hope's hand to avoid getting lost in the crowd of people, not that either of you was in any hurry to let go.

"A few," Hope replied. "I used to go quite a bit in New Orleans with my family. My parents used to compete to see who could win more prizes for me at these booths."

She pointed to the game booths. Some were shooting games, others had ring tosses, others were fishing games, and there were countless other options to try your luck and win a prize. The Mikaelson turned her gaze back to you and found your gentle expression. "And who used to win?"

Hope felt her heart skip a beat with your genuine interest in her family moments. Normally, everyone else was so quick to pass judgment every time the Mikaelson name was mentioned, associating the family with their evil deeds of the past, but never you. You understood.

"My aunt Rebekah, actually," the tribrid chuckled at the memory. "But she'd pretty much compel the vendors into giving her all the prizes, so I'm not sure if that counts."

"Of course, it counts! If there weren't any explicit rules..." You shrugged playfully, which elicited a laugh from Hope. Unconsciously, she squeezed your hand a little tighter as you continued the conversation. "So, does that mean you're good at these games?"

The girl squared her shoulders, assuming a super-confident posture. "Oh, I'm more than good. Want me to teach you?"

You laughed heartily at Hope's confidence but agreed, letting her lead you to the first booth she saw, which appeared to be a high striker. She pointed to the red device decorated with yellow numbers that went up to a bell. Leaning against it was an orange hammer. "Look, all you have to do is hit the hammer on this black part hard enough to ring the bell."

"OK, sounds simple enough." You tried to reassure yourself, and Hope placed a gentle hand on your shoulder to encourage you. "I mean, I'm supernatural, right? I can handle a carnival game."

"Yes, you can," Mikaelson hyped you up as you approached the vendor, noticing that the man seemed to be holding back a laugh, as if he didn't believe you could do it.

Hope watched anxiously as you raised the hammer, preparing to apply as much force as possible in your strike. When you brought your hands down and hit the black button, Hope watched as the disk slowly rose, reaching only halfway up the game.

The man laughed when he saw your disappointed expression and took the hammer from your hands. "Oh, why do little girls still keep trying to win this? Leave it to the real men, okay? Your boyfriend can win a prize for you."

Upon hearing the comment, a wave of anger boiled Hope's blood, causing her eyes to briefly flash yellow before she could control them. Taking a few steps forward, she carefully pulled you behind her and glared at the vendor with disdain. "She doesn't need a boyfriend. I'll win it for her."

He laughed loudly and held his own belly as if he were hearing a great joke. Still looking at the tribrid with amusement, he extended the hammer to her challengingly. "Fine, then. Do your best."

You took a few steps back, giving enough space for Hope to position herself in front of the game. She had a focused expression on her face as she toyed with the hammer, switching it from one hand to the other as if she were bored. After a few more seconds, Hope quickly discarded the hammer to the side and hit the button with her hand, causing the disk to rise so fast that in less than a second, the bell was ringing.

The vendor looked back and forth between Hope and the game in shock, unable to believe the scene before his eyes. Stuttering in surprise and fear of the strength demonstrated by the girl, he awkwardly pointed to the prize shelves. "Y-you can choose."

A smug smile spread across Hope's lips as she surveyed the available stuffed animals to be taken. Crossing her arms, she turned to you and nodded towards the shelves with her chin. "Which one do you want?"

Your cheeks reddened at the gesture, and you had to look away to keep Hope from noticing you turning into a tomato. "No, you won, it's your prize."

"But I want you to have it. I already have too many stuffed animals, anyway," she insisted. "Go on. Choose."

You considered your available options, scanning through dolphins, penguins, and birds, until you finally selected a plush brown wolf that reminded you of a certain someone. "I want that one."

The vendor hurriedly picked up the plush and handed it to you, perhaps fearing what Hope might do if she lost her patience. You could swear you saw him trembling, but you didn't have much time to investigate his body language because Hope was already pulling you by the hand to another place.

"I thought we weren't allowed to use our powers," you commented with feigned innocence, giving Hope a playful look.

She responded with a feigned expression of confusion, looking up. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm just naturally very strong."

You snorted and playfully rolled your eyes. "Alright, Wonder Woman. Help me choose a game I can win on my own; I feel kind of humiliated here."

"I know one that will be fun," Hope pulled you to another booth. This time, yellow plastic guns were attached to the counters, and white and red targets decorated the backdrop. The two of you got closer, and Hope gestured for you to pick up one of the guns.

"The goal is to knock them all down," the tribrid pointed to the 10 standing targets. "Just aim and shoot. If you knock them all down, you win a prize."

You shrugged your shoulders in preparation and awkwardly picked up the gun with both hands. Aiming carelessly, you started shooting the foam bullets, realizing that they weren't going in the direction you expected. In the end, you huffed in frustration when you realized you had only hit 3 out of 10.

"I give up. I'm terrible at these things," you pouted and reluctantly placed the gun back on the counter. Hope chuckled softly at your frustration and in a quick motion, she trapped you between her arms, leaving both hands on either side of the plastic gun.

Using one hand, she held your left and raised your palm up, using the other to position the gun correctly for you to hold. After that, she held your right, making you hold the gun with both hands, and enveloping both of you in an accidental but very welcome hug.

Your body grew warmer every time you realized Hope's chest was pressed against your back, and your breathing was already becoming more erratic. At the same time, Hope prayed that you wouldn't be able to feel how fast her heart was beating.

"So..." Hope cleared her throat and tried to focus on the task of teaching you. "Hold it firmly like this and try to use the tip of the gun as an aim. You can look up really close and close one eye if it helps."

"And then I shoot?" You asked, trying to control your voice and speech so that nothing embarrassing slipped out accidentally.

"And then you shoot," Hope agreed in a low voice. She removed her hands from yours but remained in the same spot, choosing to cross her arms before she did something she couldn't control.

 You took a deep breath to try to regain focus. Following the tribrid's instructions, you closed one eye and tried to aim the tip of the gun's mouth at one of the targets, firing when you thought it was right.

To your surprise, the advice actually worked, and the bullet hit exactly where you had previously aimed. Repeating the actions every time, you managed to knock down all the targets and shouted in celebration when you realized you had won.

"You did it!" Hope celebrated and pulled you into a tight hug that you quickly returned. You swayed back and forth in the embrace, not wanting the moment to end, but it was interrupted by the teenager in charge of the booth, who impatiently asked which prize you had chosen.

You picked up a giant brown bear plush from the top shelf, and Hope offered to carry it for the rest of the night because, according to her, she had already proven her skill in the hammer game.

But you didn't stop there. The night was just beginning.

___

"You know, I think this is the price of greed," you said with difficulty as you climbed the steps of the Salvatore School, trying to balance the enormous amount of stuffed animals in your hands until you reached your dorm room.

A little behind you, Hope laughed. She, too, carried numerous prizes you had won during the night. "At least now you'll have plenty of company to sleep with."

"If any of these stuffed animals secretly turns into a monster and kills me in the middle of the night, I'll come back to haunt you," you joked and stopped in front of your room's door, suddenly realizing that your hands were too full to reach the keys in your pocket. "Can you use a spell to open it? I'm a bit stuck here."

With a quick hand movement before she could drop the items in her hands, Hope managed to open your door, making room for you to enter the room with quick steps to place all the plushies on the bed, relieving the weight on your arms.

Hope entered shortly after and did the same, putting her hands on her waist and containing a laugh when she saw that there were so many plushies on your bed that you could hardly see the comforter. "Yeah, I bet one of these will rebel in the middle of the night and suffocate you while you're asleep. My money's on the unicorn."

You used the pink unicorn to lightly hit her. "Wow. You won't even try to defend me, Mikaelson? How ungentlemanly of you."

The tribrid laughed with amusement, but soon her gaze softened as you locked eyes. "It's getting late, I should go."

"I had fun today. Thanks," you said, looking deep into her mesmerizing blue eyes.

"I'm glad," she replied with a shy smile, and after hesitating for a few seconds, she started to walk out of your room, wanting to give you space to rest.

When she was two steps outside your room, you suddenly stood up impulsively and called her. "Hope! Wait!"

She stopped when she heard your voice, turning around with anticipation. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to give you something. You won all these things for me at the fair, and I didn't get anything for you," you fumbled with your fingers, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Hope was quick to put your concerns to rest. "Relax. I just wanted you to have a good night. That's enough reward for me."

You blushed at her comment and in an unthinking, impulsive decision, you planted a kiss on Hope's cheek, so close to her mouth that you practically felt the tips of her lips meet yours. As you pulled away, a huge smile threatened to spread across your face. "Good night, Hope."

Seeing your room's door closing in front of her, Hope gave up trying to control her face from turning extremely red and let out a happy giggle. She touched the spot where your lips had just touched with the tips of her fingers, and her mind replayed the moment over and over again.

She sighed happily and practically skipped back to her own room. Thank goodness there was no one else in the hallway, or Hope's reputation as the scary tribrid would be seriously at risk.

That night, Hope dreamed of an alternate reality where she had moved just a few inches to the side, and you had actually kissed. She dreamed about the taste your lips would have and how you would hold her during the kiss.

But this dream didn't seem so unattainable to Hope anymore. Maybe she'd try it tomorrow.

[anarchistmemecollective]

what do the words "teufel hunden" mean? I saw them as a sticker in the fraktur font on the side of a truck with tons of conservative, gun-worshiping, and veteran bumper stickers. also does the license plate QAI3M mean anything?

not seeing anything more fashy than that

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Junior Year Ep 12/13 A Moonar Yulenear Miracle

Welcome back to Fantasy High where last week, I was MIA because I was on a girls trip–a reason I think the Bad Kids would very much approve of. 

Luckily, we can easily gloss over what we missed in a quick series of bullet points because, while it was an absolute banger of an episode (eat your dice Brennan!), it was fairly straightforward plotwise:

The Bad Kids were dropped into a creepy, dreamlike version of Mordred Manor which was created by a semi corrupted Cassandra who was trying to create a safe place for the Bad Kids to escape but having her intentions warped.

The Bad Kids did a fetch quest, fighting monsters and dodging Baron while they found the pieces of the pride armor curse. Once they got them together, they had a hefty piece of free infernal magic that Adaine could use as a spell component for a major thing–maybe even freeing Lydia from Bakur.

Cassandra assured Kristen that as long as Kristen is alive and believes in the Cass version of her, she can’t be fully corrupted (which is seemingly what Baron was trying to do–kill Kristen so Cass could comeback as his “stark father” the Nightmare King)

Cass also sent Kristen images of her wedding–where she got Kalina as a kitten as a present. Kalina once again reiterated that Ragh is the only name she can say before breaking her own neck so she wouldn't attack Kristen. 

Got it? Good. We reconvene with the Bad Kids as they’re escaping this briefcase dimension and all of their loved ones are calling out for them, but they all decide to take a brief detour to hell to get some answers about the pride armor first–just what every parent wants for their kids! Adaine stores the infernal energy in the Sword of Sight and Planeshifts everyone to hell.

They pop into Fig’s Hellish Recording Studio and slurp down some boiling hot grapefruit seltzers before recruiting Baby to help them find the research books they need. Baby trashed them all and, unfortunately, it’s trash day so they all have to book it as the dump truck ambles towards the dumpster. It looks like it’s gonna be a close call but then–BLAM! The dump truck is vaporized by a plume of fire from the Goldenhoard! Yup, Bill Seacaster is here and he’s tattooing one of those cheesy bumper stickers onto his ship's ass: My son is a Maximum Legend at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy. He got Fabian’s message after all! 

Father and son are delighted to see one another but there’s still a lot of research to do so Kristen goes dumpster diving for books. She gets a 25 Religion and then a 20 (not nat) History while Adaine gets a 22 History and Riz gets a 27. Here’s what they collectively learn about the armor they came to research:

The sin armors were collected by Gorthalax as trophies for his hall.

Each was created by a different infernal deity to punish a mortal for the associated sin.

The armor of Pride was created to punish an elf named Athrenriel.

The Armor allowed him to win tons of battles but every battle ruined his reputation and the happiness of his family.

Eventually someone gave away the armor (maybe directly to Gorthalax, it’s unclear) but that caused the curse to move to the bloodline of the family itself and it’s been passed down patrilineally since.

The curse is known as the “curse of humiliation” and it usually affects the oldest boy in the family once their dad passes–which is why Gilear was a stud as a younger man and then he morphed into the yogurt man we all know and love. 

The best that they can tell, some combination of Gilear putting the armor back on and Fig calling for the power in the Night Yorb fight/being an archdevil had some weird magical effect that pulled the curse back onto the bloodline and got her involved despite her not being blood related to Gilear. 

This is just my interpretation but what makes the most sense to me is that because the armor was meant to help you win battles at the expense of your family’s rep, once Gilear put on the armor and rebooted the curse to its default state, he got really lucky and Fig, as his family, suffered for it. 

Anyway, the party catches up Bill on the whole Kipperlily situation (he thinks Kristen should just kill her and Kristen isn’t NOT thinking about it), the shrimp jump, and the Cloud Rider (which he doesn’t know much about but he does use it as an opportunity to teach Fabian a fun way to threaten his banker). He also gives them all guns–much to Adaine’s delight.

Fig remembers that she has to figure out her pact and asks Bill, a Warlock patron himself, for help with that. He’s happy to help her cheat at school and for 40 gp (borrowed from Fabian of course) writes her an agreement on the back of one of his crewmembers and flays it off (nobody liked that). Somehow, I don’t think Zara–who wouldn’t even let her be a Warlock of Cassandra because that didn’t feel right–is gonna let this slide but hey, it’s not my grade in jeopardy here. 

On Kristen’s suggestion, Fabian also gets a touchup on his Maximum Legend neck tattoo. He barely manages to stay conscious (truly so barely–Riz is so anxious about Bill using a dragon-sized tattoo gun on him that he gives Fabian disadvantage while trying to be supportive) but with the help of his friends he succeeds and, for his troubles, he now has a gold tattoo that allows him to safely handled cursed gold–no more dragon madness for him!

That super important business out of the way, the group splits up. Fabian and Gorgug stay with Bill so Bill can prove a point about the wisdom of buttering up ramps (just go with it) while everyone else goes further into the Bottomless Pit to continue investigating the armors of sin–this time in person. There are high rolls all around so here are the highlights again:

The Armor of Pride looks elven in design but it also feels fundamentally infernal. Riz wonders if that means it’s something maybe summer Eladrin related and Brennan says that would check out.  

The other armors don’t really feel seasonal in any way (the Lust armor is a full Gimp suit lol).

When Riz turns on Detect Good and Evil, he can see the weird rune from the dead bodies on the Pride Armor which now also pings as the word Anakarna. It’s the arcane mark on the armor which means that Ankarna is the one who made this armor. 

As he does this scan, he gets a call on his Spy Kids watch–it’s his dad! Just like Fabian, he’s super thrilled but he tries to keep it profesh. His dad (Pok Gukgak, secret agent angel) is understandably concerned that his son is randomly in hell as well as the fact that a god whose name hasn’t been said in a thousand years just had their name pinged by angelic spy tech (the necktie Riz used to cast the spell–all info gets routed back to the home office in heaven). Riz explains everything and his dad offers to help if there’s anything they want him to look up. They ask him to look up Athenriel and Ankarana and Pok is able to do that because he’s freed from the bonds of Oblivati Mori since they found the name themselves. So that’s a new fact we just learned: O.M. applies to celestial and infernal agents too, not just gods themselves. With Pok no longer bound by celestial silence, we get a bunch of info about Athenriel:

He wasn’t a follower of Ankarna as far as they know.

He’s older than the Court of Stars (the government of Falinel).

He’s not in any of the heavens they know of.

He was a druid and built many of the standing stones in Falinel (very probably including  the one they triggered two episodes ago. 

Gilear is related to him patrilineally. 

They also tell Pok about Kalina and Spy’s Tongue Curse and Riz asks Ragh if he’s under that with anyone. Ragh says no adamantly but Pok points out that he wouldn’t be able to say yes even if he was. Pok says that in order to get around a Spy’s Tongue Curse situation, the best strat is to find someone just slightly outside of the group of covered people to get you in the right direction and here’s where I want to cut in really quickly to drop the piece of info from Sophomore Year that I said recently was a loose end which was bugging me and might be relevant. This is a screengrab from the recap I did of SY Ep 4:

So that’s suspicious as hell and also a possible reason that Kalina would want to say Ragh’s name to alert the Bad Kids to someone else. Anyway, back to the story in progress, Riz wonders if Athenriel is Bakur and asks his dad if there's anything connecting the armor being cursed and the Ankarna being corrupted/if Ankarna had a previous form. Pok starts looking it up and is a little confused because Ankarna’s file is a bit weird. It says she (we get the pronoun she in this ep so I’ll be using it now) is associated with the 9 Hells and it says that she doesn’t have any active divine domains (which isn’t weird because she’s dead) but the file is corrupted so he can’t see what the domains are supposed to be (though it seems like there are multiple). 

Riz thinks that maybe Sol could have pulled some shenanigans to snag the sun domain for himself and Pok lays down some facts about gods. Gods–even good ones–are playing a different game from everyone else. They have to when their very existence depends on having worshippers. And gods generally hate collabing with a deity that shares their domain because they were explicitly the competition. 

As they’re having this conversation, they’re exiting the pit and they make it in time to watch Bill hurl Gorgug up a giant ramp in some kind of insane and ultimately inconclusive science experiment. Pok says hi to him via the watch and they make quick plans for Bill to sell criminal secrets to heaven in exchange for gold (what is he even spending it on???? It’s hell!!!). Fig asks one last important question. Is this a Night Yorb situation? Now that the cat’s out of the bag, is it OK to say Ankarna’s name? Pok says it should be fine. The only problem will come if anyone actually starts worshiping her. (Did you hear that Fig?) 

Kristen Planeshifts everyone out of hell before Fabian has a chance to say goodbye to his dad (entirely for the bit) and all of their parents are so relieved that they’re OK. Gilear is even more excited when he learns that his good luck has been nullified and his life can suck again. He feels at peace being back in his comfort zone and firmly believes that he doesn’t deserve good luck AND the best daughter in the world. Fig is worried that Hilariel might leave him now that his luck is bad again but Hilariel was into him BEFORE his glow up so they’re all good. Possibly better than just good if Adaine’s teasing prediction of a baby on the way is more than a bit (Fabian demands she undo it with a div roll and plans to give Gilear a vasectomy with his sword). 

Lydia rolls up and asks what the hell happened because Bakur just tried to jailbreak harder than he has in ages. They start filling her in and offer to try the ritual they talked about in an earlier ep but she says they’ve been through a lot and it’s Fantasy Christmas tomorrow so they should get some rest first. Riz asks if Tracker is OK and they confirm that she and Nara both are when they give her a call. Zayn and Aelwyn are also both fine. Tracker and Nara were, as Fabian suspected, thrown out of the circle as protection by Gal from the pride armor situation. 

Kristen explains to Tracker everything about Ankarna and the corruption and Bakur. Tracker is honestly really sympathetic to Adaine saying the name out loud and triggering everything in a, “Well if you find a dead god’s name you GOTTA say it” kind of way, like it’s as irresistible as popping bubble wrap. 

They talk to Gorthalax who, surprise surprise, ALSO was being tongue tied by Oblivati Mori and can now spill some info. Lotta helpful dads in this episode! Here’s what he’s got:

Ankarna wasn’t a fiendish entity to start with. She fell, just like he did (you’ll recall Gorthalax went from being an angel of temperance to a devil of gluttony). He doesn’t know what her deal was exactly pre-fall though (which seems to be a running theme).

Post fall, she was all about rage and fire and conquering and Bakur was her right hand. Unlike her, Bakur wasn’t Celestial previously.

She had a set of scales that she turned into a warhammer (sounds like justice to war–also, doesn’t Porter have a warhammer? Suspicious).

She took artifacts from other pit fiends about conquest to study them which Gorthalax says is a super weird thing for a god to do. 

Bakur referred to her as a “Mistress to her people” which Gorthalax also finds weird because, generally speaking, gods are more the ones making requests not taking requests as she seemed to be doing (the Bad Kids think this might mean there was an as above, so below situation where her followers morphed her into what she is now).

She was very touchy about her relationship status and once almost merc-ed someone who made a pass at her and had a snide comment about her being married still.

Before everyone goes to bed, Tracker checks in with Kristen and offers to help in any way she can. Kristen asks her to ask Gal about Ankarna and her OG domain and Tracker promises to follow up–now that Oblivati Mori is out the window, she can bring it up during their weekly Zoom meeting no problem. Tracker, like Pok, warns Kristen to be careful to avoid allowing this goddess followers and belief because now that this name is out there, it’s only a matter of time. (FIG, ARE YOU LISTENING???) Kristen thinks maybe it wouldn’t be that bad if they can revert this goddess back to her original, presumably less destructive domain.

While the above conversation was happening, Nara was around so Adaine steered her away from it from getting her to take her and a disguised Aelwyn (“Roma Childa” which Fig shoots down with bazooka level force) to the Court of Stars where her dad apparently works (Note: Her parents are supposed to be clerics, right? I guess they just have no separation of church and state in Falinel, lol). Adaine tells these immortal elves with no concept of finances that she can’t afford to be the Elven Oracle and she’s tapping out because she’s working as an ice cream waitress to scrape together enough money for her basic needs. Nara both vouches for her skills as an adventurer and asks her dad to let her have the 10 barrels of diamonds that are just lying around their house that they don’t have any use for. After briefly clarifying that she (Adaine) was *not* in fact declaring war on Falinel (exhausting, high elves are exhausting), the Council says they’ll convene in a month to discuss whether Oracle should be made a paid position. Their first thought is lawyers but Adaine gets it changed to a dance battle and she gets Fabian assigned as her champion. Fabian agrees, though the text asking him if he’s down stops him from completing his sword vasectomy on Gilear. Better luck next time buddy. 

The next day, it’s the Moonar Yulenear and game time re: the gem in Lydia’s chest. Adaine is going to use the energy in her sword plus Contact Other Plane to make a viewing screen to talk to Bakur. With the spell, they get 5 questions and, of course, being the Bad Kids, they immediately waste two just asking “Sup?”. Riz yells at everyone except for Adaine (and maybe him) to shut up and the real questioning begins.

With their first proper question, they ask Bakur if he was Athenriel. He says yes. They guessed it in one. Second question: What was Ankarna’s previous domain before she was all about conquest? He starts crying scalding tears at hearing her name–the kind of crying that you do when you haven’t heard a loved one’s name in a really long time. He says she was the goddess of giants, long days of plenty, clarity, discernment, judgment, justice, righteousness, clarity, and the conviction to act with the force of the sun. So a serious slide from pretty chill to pretty intense. He also says that her sister was the light of her life and that she was fiercely protective of her. Final question: Was Sol involved in Ankarna’s corruption? Bakur, instead of answering, asks a clarifying question: Do they mean Sol himself or his followers?

At that, Adaine has to make a Charisma save. With help from her friends (including Gorgug’s new Flash of Genius Artificer ability) she just barely makes it. Bakur is going off about gods and followers and weapons and who wields who and Lydia is starting to not feel good so Adaine shuts down the connection right away. Lydia has to make a save and also just hangs on so it’s time for that gem to come out of her chest. 

When they reveal that they have the power to get the gem out properly, Lydia is taken aback and Ragh is in tears, soulfully pleading that they do anything they can to help, and of course they do. Adaine uses the energy stored in her sword from Fig’s curse to gold-seal the gem so it’s no longer in contact with Lydia’s skin. Inside the gem, Bakur reverts back from devil form to being a high elf that looks a lot like Gilear and is terrified of yogurt. 

Fabian volunteers to do impromptu surgery because he has the new anti-cursed gold tattoo and clearly the dice know he’s not anything close to a trained medical professional because he rolls TWO NAT ONES and KILLS LYDIA. But luckily, there’s no I in Team and the other Bad Kids are there to bail him (and, more importantly, Lydia) out. Adaine swoops in with a 13 Portent roll so she doesn’t just pass away on the spot and then Kristen, surprise surprise, casually pops out a Nat 20 to remove this enormous, chronic, burden from Lydia. Saint Kristen does it again. 

Lydia, free from the need for her constant rage for the first time in years, instantly falls asleep. Fabian keeps the gem because of his cursed gold immunity and Adaine uses Nystul’s Magic Aura to make it magically ping as an empty palimpsest to anyone who’s being nosy. 

And with that Fantasy Christmas Miracle, vacation is over and we move into downtime.

Fabian first!

First Track Popularity: 18. Wild success.

Second Track Bard: 23: A+ AND Brennan lets the Dance Battle for Adaine be a school project so he crushes his competition and gets her salaried! Even though he’s wildly wealthy and doesn’t need more money, Adaine declares him her champion for all future dance battles and demands that the position comes with a stipend as well. He’s named the Oracle of Dance and Adaine gets her extra credit from predicting that he becomes the future of dance. Way to pay off a bit.

Third Track Owlbears: 27. Big success!

Fourth Track Fighter: 32. Another A+!

Fifth Track Job: You might be wondering what a job roll is for Fabian since he’s, as I said before, fabulously wealthy. Well, he’s keen to threaten his banker life his dad showed him and with help from Fig as backup (and Adaine telling him where the banker is hiding) shakes him down. Brennan, who I assume is making this up on the spot, says that it’s written in Fabian’s trust contract that he gets a 200 gp advance every time he finds and threatens his banker. Adaine offers to locate him every day if Fabian will split the gold with her. Fig is down to tag along for free.

Adaine’s next–though we’re not going to resolve all of her rolls this episode. 

Now that she’s getting paid, she gives Basrar her two week’s notice and he’s sad to see her go but happy that she’s doing well. Adaine says that she’ll maybe come back to get a summer job for fun and he gives her a Fudgie the Whale cake to celebrate. Aelwyn’s sister senses go off and she can instantly sense that Adaine is having a nice thing without her. Adaine, who wanted to stuff her face with ice cream cake in private, is baffled at her non-divination specialist sister’s sudden supernatural intuition, but invites Aelwyn over to have cake with her. 

Also, with the Oracle job being paid now, Adaine gets to roll 2d10 GP and even if she fails her Oracle track, as long as she rolls for it, and her financial situation will count as Well Off which is great because it was really screwing with her school rolls to not have her finances in check.

First Track Wizard: Dirty 20. A+! And without having to worry about her supplies, she now has time for research and projects and stuff. 

Second Track Spells: This is a wizard mechanic that allows her to get new spells from her spellbook. With Help from Boggy, she rolls high enough to get a new 7th, 6th, 5th, and 4th level spell!

Third Track Mystery: She wants to Investigate Kipperlilly and on an 18, Brennan says that they’ll resolve this at the end of downtime, but she’s starting to put together where their hideouts and meetup stops are. Let’s put a pin in that until next episode. 

Fourth Track: Relaxation Fabian is surprised and honestly adorably thrilled when Adaine shows up at his little relaxation nurse spa day thing. And, this time, it actually takes! Adaine is able to relax so well that she removes 2 stress tokens (which allows her to get rid of two negative stat effects–she’s now down to only 1 stress). I guess money solves all your problems after all. 

[NOTE: Relaxation is supposed to be your last track but, in the AP, Brennan lets Shiv roll Oracle track and she gets a NAT TWENTY. Brennan flavors this as her issuing a ton of new prophecies while she’s at her spa day, haha.]

She closes off her downtime rolls with a sweet scene with Jawbone where she’s finally able to open up to him about the trouble she’s been having because she’s fixed it herself. Jawbone really wants her to know that she can come to him with problems and that she doesn’t have to fix things herself and when she says she likes solving her own problems and that she can still get discounted ice cream for everyone since Basrar let her keep the discount, Jawbone gently rebuffs her. He’s the adult, he buys the ice cream. (And Aelwyn steals the ice cream. Adaine catches her creating a portal to steal more whale cake from the mini fridge because she’s a menace even when she’s not actually there).

Finally for the episode, we move on to Kristen who is back in cleric class after a harrowing break and, as she steps into the classroom she sees an even more harrowing sight: In an all white suit with a Kentucky-fried silver tongue is the new Cleric teacher. None other than Buddy’s grandfather–Bobby Dawn. 

Detention*

Fabian for Killing Lydia

I mean, come on? Double Nat ones? My guy. 

Honor Roll

Kristen for Saving Lydia

The reason Kristen can be such a chaos generator is because and everyone just deals with it is because, at the end of the day, she’s also the best cleric ever hands down. Honorable mention to Adaine for her arcane assistance. 

*I want to give Bobby Detention just for existing but I’m gonna wait for him to do actually do something out of pocket. Somehow, I don’t think I’ll have to wait very long. 

Random Thoughts

Just a few quick notes this week! I haven’t been including this section consistently because I tend to get a lot of my random thoughts out in answering asks that people send me and also I’ve been so busy that by the time I get to the end of the actual recap I’m often like, OK I’m done, lol. But I wanted to take a few minutes this week to include a few thoughts.

Love Pok being just not happy that Adaine has a gun but not being able to say anything because his son is literally wielding his gun. Also lol at Murph saying, “It feels less weird when you call it an arquebus.” That’s why I love referring to it as a glock whenever I can.

I didn’t mention it in the recap proper but, in case it matters, Fig uses her blood to create a…Copy? Clone? Child? Romance Partner?...for Baby named Baby Baby. Truly not sure what their deal is. 

Riz has a thought about whether they can use the power of music to uncorrupt Ankarna and, honestly, not even remotely the craziest possible idea. They have a rockstar on the team and last season a viral shrimp party was an important strategy.  

As much as Fabian is protesting, I think he’d make a great big brother. Also, he’d have a full house again! I think he knows deep down he’d be the most ride or die big bro ever. Did you see how outraged he was last ep upon hearing her hurt Adaine?

I wonder if Gal throwing her clerics out of the circle had more to do with the general badness of the pride armor or her recognizing Ankarna’s mark specifically. Glad Tracker is going to question her. I think they should be exploring all their godly options at this point now that OM is gone. Hell, Kristen should try and ask Helio if he’s still taking her calls. 

We need eyes back on the Rat Grinders ASAP. I’m glad Adaine took initiative there because we still have so many loose ends with them. We did a lot of macro investigating this ep but I’m itching to find out about the BS happening closer to home. What is Kipperlilly up to? Why did Ivy react the way she did to seeing “Lucy”? Is Oisin evil or not and can Adaine date him? All equally important questions. 

If Brennan bided his time and let Emily rage about Porter for two seasons only to lull her into a false sense of security and reveal that he was involved in secret machinations this whole time I’m gonna laugh so hard. 

[darkmaga-retard]

Auron MacIntyre

Sep 21, 2024

Donald Trump has survived his second assassination attempt in as many months. The first attempt, in Butler, Pennsylvania, left Trump bloodied in front of a large crowd. Cameras captured the real estate tycoon’s defiant reaction.

For years, Democratic politicians and the media had escalated their rhetoric against the presidential candidate, frequently comparing him to Hitler and labeling him an existential threat to democracy. The chattering class continued to express their hatred, but for at least a few weeks, they seemed to recognize the need to tone things down.

With a second gunman attempting to take Trump’s life, the left has dropped any pretense of moderation. Progressives have embraced the idea that Trump is responsible for the attacks on his own life, further escalating their rhetorical justifications. They’ve decided that political violence should become a regular feature of American life — and that only one side should wield it.

The shooting in Pennsylvania this past July occurred at a public rally, making the events well-documented. However, the shooter remained intentionally shrouded in mystery. Thomas Matthew Crooks, the 20-year-old involved, had a suspiciously thin social media presence, and officials seemed determined to obscure his motives. The FBI even lied under oath about his internet postings.

Trump’s most recent assailant, 58-year-old Ryan Routh, has a more visible public profile filled with political opinions. Routh’s politics are clear: He displayed a Biden-Harris bumper sticker and made 19 donations to Democratic causes. A strong supporter of the war in Ukraine, he even spoke to the New York Times and appeared in an Azov Brigade propaganda video, where he expressed his willingness to recruit and fight for the foreign nation.

Despite a checkered legal history, including a standoff with police involving a fully automatic weapon, Routh was somehow permitted to travel to Ukraine in 2022. He intended to serve in the foreign legion but was rejected because of his age.

Both Facebook and Twitter took down the shooter’s social media accounts, but before they were scrubbed, users captured several posts. In these posts, Routh echoed the rhetoric of both Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, claiming that “DEMOCRACY is on the ballot, and we cannot lose.”

[nn1895]

Quiet Fics: Garden

Garden

“We’re going out today,” Prowl announced, putting his empty cube into the spotless sink.  

On the front room sofa, Bluestreak’s wings flicked.  

“We are?”  he asked, pushing himself up to see over the arm of the couch.

It was the first sign of interest in months. 

Please work.

“We’re going to the garden shop to pick out crystals.  Finish your breakfast.”

Bluestreak threw back his helm and chugged the cube.

0-0-0

Prowl was not, by nature, a nurturer.  

Lead a desperate last ditch effort against impossible odds when the syndicate set its sights on Praxus?  Absolutely.

Recategorize the ENTIRE file room because someone auto-sorted all the dates, but not the rest of the file?  He had a hot cube of energon and a fresh packet of rust sticks ready.

Crack his entire pelvic casing in a high speed crash?  A welcome sacrifice. 

Mentor new recruits?  

….he’d make sure to crash harder next time.  

It wasn’t that he disliked younglings or cadets.  He just preferred to let others deal with them during all of the awkward growing stages.  Like the “shoot themselves in the pede” stage and the “I’m certain I can do everything on two hours of recharge” stage.  

Then his cousin Spiral had been offlined during a routine surgery and there had been no one else to take in his grief-wracked sparkling.

So here he was, dead center in the “my whole world has crashed down” stage, with a sparkling he’d only met once at a family reunion.  Absolutely every decision he’d made so far had been shots fired so haphazardly in the dark he probably wouldn’t know if he’d hit a target until the sparkling was an adult.

They stepped out onto the quiet street and transformed.  It took a few tries for Bluestreak to maneuver behind Prowl, but it was getting less awkward each time they went out.

“The garden shop is on the other side of the city,” Prowl commed him.  “I’ll let you know when we get close.”  

He got a near silent, “Thank you, Uncle Prowl,” in return.

Towing was a new experience.  And…not an unpleasant one.  The (thankfully rare) times he’d had to tow injured enforcers had been spent trying to get them to let him drive.

The sparkling, on the other servo, was content to let Prowl pull him through the dense, Praxian traffic, without trying to steer or brake, wheels spinning freely.  

Bluestreak had even less experience with it all than Prowl.  It had been only a few days of cohabitating before Prowl had discovered that the sparkling had simply never been taken anywhere.  It explained a lot.

The night of Spiral’s funeral, after Prowl had explained everything to Bluestreak, they’d stepped out onto the driveway and both frozen.

Prowl had absolutely no idea how to transport a sparkling that didn’t fit in his altmode and the sparkling wouldn’t be road-safe for several dozen vorns.  He’d seem older sparklings towed, was this one big enough?

Prowl looked him up and down as Bluestreak pretended to be fussing with his mourning decals. Probably.  Maybe if they went slow.

“I’ll transform here and tow you to the road.”  Anything said with enough conviction became fact.  “Transform behind me and I’ll engage the towline.”

The sparkling nodded, still trying to press out the bubbles from the black lettering across his forearm.

“Right.”  There.  Simple.

It was not, actually, simple.

The loud thump echoed over the soft crick-crick of the circuit-crickets.

“Sorry!” the sparkling nearly wailed after the fourth time he’d misaligned and rammed Prowl’s back bumper.  

“It’s fine.  Try again.  Just a little bit back and over.”  At least it was dark.  He’d have time to polish out the scratches before anyone saw.  Not enough to pop out the dents though…

Prowl was halfway to suggesting they try it the other way, but he was worried his sensors wouldn’t pick up such a small vehicle.  He still had a patrolbot’s sensors despite being years off of a beat.  They were meant to take more of a beating and be less sensitive.  The thin, fluttery field of the sparkling was nearly invisible to them.

“O-okay.”  Prowl heard the small wheels on the gravel shift and vented in relief as he felt the towline catch.  

“Got it!”

“Yes.  Good job, Bluestreak.” 

The praise was automatic, but with the way Bluestreak’s field warmed, you’d have thought Prowl was awarding him the Primal Award.

0-0-0

Prowl stepped into the shop and he was slammed back into his sparkling days with the force of a zero-G take off.  The two-story tall quartz at the back still towered over the ruthlessly organized seed crystals bins.  Everywhere, flickers of multicolored light bounced and refracted into a hazy sheen.  The smell of fertilizer and impurity packets coated his chemical receptors like cheap wax.

He’d forgotten how much he used to enjoy growing crystals.

“Uncle Prowl?”  Bluestreak inched closer, his wide optics full of twinkling colors as he stared.

“We’re going to start a tabletop garden.”  Should he?  The sparkling might not want- what if -

Bluestreak’s wings flickered up and down as Prowl cautiously settled an arm around his shoulders.  

“I don’t know anything about crystals,” Bluestreak admitted, but his doorwings were twitching more actively than ever.

“It’s not hard.  First, we pick out a few seeds and a nice shallow dish.  We’ll pick up some growth medium and some fertilizer.  Depending on the crystals we might even be able to get some impurities to make them different colors.”

“Really?  What kinds should we get?”  He was actually leaning into Prowl!  Success!

“I think we’ll start with a nice quartz mix - easy to grow, easy to keep indoors.  These are the bins here.  Pick whichever ones you like.”

Bluestreak stiffened against him.  Scrap.

“They’re all good ones,” Prowl continued, pretending not to notice as he steered a now-reluctant Bluestreak closer.  “Each crystal will grow well, even if it grows differently.”  Prowl dug around in the bin of loose seeds.  “See this one?  That crack just means that it’ll branch there.  It’s one of the smaller ones, but it’ll catch up.  Now you pick.”

Bluestreak reached out and hovered his servo over the bin.  His field flickered up and down Prowl’s in a mixture of dread, uncertainty, and the faint trust that had started to thread through it recently.  He picked up a large, pale purple seed crystal.

“That’s a good one too.  We need two more.”  Bluestreak’s next choices - both clear quartz - were chosen a bit faster.

“Now we’ll pick out a dish.”  Less dread, more uncertainty, a stronger vein of trust dividing them.

It was progress.

0-0-0

Prowl had only attended the funeral and the reading of the will because his creator had asked him to.

Spiral’s carrier had been his Aunt and his creator’s only sister.  She’d felt some sort of obligation to have someone there “from the family” that Prowl just didn’t understand.  His creator hadn’t even liked her sister.  Prowl certainly hadn’t liked Spiral.

Prowl had attended the reading of Spiral’s will at the request of the lawyer who had seen him arrive and cornered him in the second entrance room.  Apparently the reading was going to get heated and he wanted someone representing the other side of the law there.

More like he wanted someone to act as a bouncer that the funeral goers would think twice about before crossing.

Prowl didn’t think he had much to worry about.  The kind of bots Spiral attracted were thin plated, stylish types with more insulation behind their optics than processor.  Well, insulation and pure, black spite.

“-and to think I thought Spiral had such good taste!” one of them was saying loudly.  Prowl took more fried energon balls from the buffet and wished he was out on patrol.  Out on patrol in the shopping plaza. Out on patrol in the shopping plaza in the pouring acid rain.

“It’s positively tragic!” another bot agreed.  They were criticizing their dead friend’s taste in wall art.  At his funeral.

Like called to like, carrier had always said.  

Prowl turned to grab another serving of the fluffy goodies when he caught sight of something small pressing itself into a corner.  

It took him a moment to recognize Spiral’s sparkling.  He was very thin and covered in mourning decals.  Prowl vaguely remembered seeing him twenty - thirty? - vorns ago when he was just starting to walk and roll on his wheels.  He couldn’t be that old then.

“And those drapes!”  More high, brittle laughter and Prowl saw the sparkling flinch, his optics darting around the room.  He was edging towards the doorway to the rest of the house.  Ah.  Prowl wouldn’t want to be here if he was the sparkling either.  Who was even supposed to be minding him?  It was cruel to leave a newly orphaned sparkling alone like that.

“Officer!”  Scrap, the lawyer found him.  “Officer, we’ll be reading the Will and Testament in a moment.  Would you come with me?”

Prowl tossed his half full plate back on the buffet table.  

0-0-0

Bluestreak was analyzing the two crystal garden dishes as if he was deciding which of his servo to cut off.

“This one is more sturdy,” he whispered, “but this one has better drainage.  I like the color on this one more, but I think this one will match the crystals.”

It was the most he’d heard the sparkling say since they’d met.

“Is matching the crystals important?” Prowl asked, hoping to keep him talking as he shifted the weight from one arm to another.  His arms were weighted down with growth medium, impurities, seed crystals, misters, and two beginner care books.

“Of course.  Everything you bring into your home is a statement about your taste.  You wouldn’t want something in your hab to clash.  What would bots say?” Bluestreak answered with frightening automaticity.  Then he flinched.  “I mean…”

Prowl had seen Bluestreak’s mouth move, but the words were all Spiral, the fragger.  He had enough time to lecture his sparkling about ‘taste’ but not enough to tow him to the nearest playground?

“I’m sure Sergeant Strongarm appreciates your consideration.  Next time she visits we’ll point out to her that we selected this dish to match the patches on the wall AND the stain on the kitchen floor.”  That startled a laugh out of the sparkling.  Finally!

“Visits?  You mean next time she drags you home from work?”

There!  A twinkle of mischief!

“Same thing.  I think you should get this one,” Prowl said, tapping the teal dish.  “You said you liked this color better.  Me too.”

“Okay.  Now we’ll go buy them?”

“Yes.”  Prowl took the rejected dish and set it back on the shelf.

“Did we get everything?”

“I think so.  If now, we can always come back.”

“Hey, Uncle Prowl?  Why is everything so damp?” 

“They spray the crystals in the morning.  It helps them grow and makes them shinier so bots will want to buy them.  Here hold this.”  He handed Bluestreak the lighter bags and took the teal dish.

“How do you know so much about growing crystals, Uncle Prowl?” he asked as they wove through the aisles.

“I used to grow them before I left home.  My creators still have a few of my larger gardens.”  He got to hear them complain about them every time he called.

“Really?  Why did you start growing crystals?”

Prowl was thrilled with each question.  “I needed something to do in the evenings that wasn’t too expensive and my creator got me a datapad from the library about crystalology.  When I grew my first citrine I decided to -”

0-0-0

Prowl looked around, keeping the contempt in his field tight against his frame, letting the boredom leak through.  There were certainly more bots here than he’d seen at the funeral itself.  He was going to stay in the back, against the wall, in case any of them were spitting actual acid.

“WHAT!  I put up with his disgusting jokes for two hundred vorns and all I get is the vintage Lunar collection?!  I bought half of those pieces for him!”

“If you expect me to accept a third - A THIRD - of the Chrome Enterprises account then -”

“What do you mean he didn’t leave any money for the remodel?  I’m scheduling the dumpsters right now to throw out these tacky paintings and those cheap rayon rugs.”

“Those are my paintings and my rugs you glitch!  I SAID I’d get them in the morning!”

“PLEASE!  QUIET!” the lawyer shouted from the table in the front.  “You may not throw away anything in this house until everything has been distributed to its recipients.  I can arrange an emergency moving service if necessary.  Anyone caught interfering will be removed from the premises and charges brought against them.”  The bots grumbled, but quieted down, claws out and poisoned words at the ready.

“Moving on.  All of Spiral’s bank accounts have been transferred to his creators except for the joint ones which will be transferred to the other name on the account.  As stated, you have a week to collect the physical items from the house and the bank will be expected you for the items in his safety deposit boxes.”  He leveled a knowing glare at them.  “The bank WILL be checking IDs.

“Furthermore, any custody of the mechanimals in the menagerie needs to go through the WildLife Preservation society.  Once you sign, you are responsible for transport, housing, and feeding.  There is no stipend.”

“If there aren’t any questions, we can move onto the land deeds and then get your signatures on the paperwork.”

“What about the sparkling?” someone asked.

Oh.  That had been him.

The lawyer squinted at him and looked down at his notes.

“Officer Prowl?  Well, it looked like Spiral didn’t say anything about him.  If no one wants to take him in I guess we’ll call Sparkling Services.  That is the correct procedure, yes?  I’ve never dealt with custody cases.”

All helms turned towards Prowl who had also never had anything to do with custody cases, but he’d be damned if he let that show.

“I’m sure it won’t come to calling SS,” Prowl said, scanning the bots in the room.  “If Spiral didn’t make arrangements then the next of kin - “

“Pit no!  I don’t want a sparking.”  Spiral’s brother.

“There have also been cases where family friends have -”

“What?  I don’t have time for a sparkling.”

“Spiral wasn’t that good of a friend.”

“I’m going to one of the moons this week!  I don’t have time -”

“Doesn’t he get some sort of maintenance check or inheritance?” called a sulky young mech in the front who hadn’t gotten anything in the Will.

The lawyer clicked through the Will again.  “No, it doesn’t say anything about provisions for descendants.  Spiral didn’t arrange any inheritance either.  I guess his upkeep will fall on his new guardian.”  He shrugged and then turned to Prowl again.  “Will you make the call after the funeral?  The house will need to be packed up and distributed.”  There was nothing in his tone that indicated the sparkling was any different than the tacky wall art or the cheap rugs.

Prowl’s processor spun through the scenarios as the crowd settled.  If Bluestreak didn’t come with an inheritance, money or land, then he was valueless to these bots. Given the lengths Prowl had seen others go to, he decided that was probably a good thing.  No tragic accidents or quick arranged bondings.  But SS was already overloaded and it would be easy for a quiet, sheltered sparkling to be swallowed up by the system.  He didn’t want to make that call.

Prowl scanned the room again…

…family, friends, business associates.  None of them gave a damn about Spiral and none of them would take in his sparkling - 

- his pale opticked, thin fielded sparkling.

“No need,” he heard himself say, before the thought had fully formed, “I’ll be taking him with me once everything is arranged.”

0-0-0

Prowl watched as Bluestreak carefully unpacked everything from their shopping trip and set it on the table.

“What do we do first?” he asked, sounding like a normal sparkling for once, excited and eager.

“We’ll put the medium in first and then you’ll figure out how you want to arrange your crystals.  This is a tabletop garden so we can put them closer together.”

They poured the medium together to keep as much of it off the floor as possible and Bluestreak started flipping through one of the datapads for layouts, asking Prowl’s opinion on each one.

Then, somewhere between choosing a layout and showing Bluestreak the trick of mixing the impurities in the mister, Prowl’s world rocked and resettled.

He lifted his helm and looked around his tiny habsuite.  

He had a table and chairs now, because they couldn't both eat on the couch.  It was tucked into the corner with a pile of goodies they’d bought yesterday driving home from the grocery store.  

He’d finally nailed up those shelves to hold all of his mystery novels and Bluestreak had shyly set his own beginner readers up there.

The kitchen stain would be gone by next weekend - Prowl had bought the cleaner - and he’d set aside money to paint over the patchy gray walls.  He’s planned on picking the color together.

In a few minutes they’d have a fresh crystal garden to add to it too.  

“There!”  Bluestreak set the final wire in place to hold that first cracked seed crystal up against the taller amethyst.  He grinned up at Prowl and Prowl found himself smiling back, his spark spinning dizzily.

“It looks great, Bluestreak.  I can’t wait to see it grow.”

I can’t wait to see you grow.

Bluestreak’s face lit up.  “You think they’re really going to grow?”

“You did an excellent job.  They’ll do fine.”  That bloom of warmth again, a warmth Prowl finally recognized.  It had been coming and going in Bluestreak’s field since that first night - 

They’d arrived at Prowl’s tiny, barren habsuite in the early morning hours. The street was empty - too early for anyone in his part of town to be up - and still dark.  He could see his trash bins tipped over in the side alley, waiting for the garbage trucks.  His downstairs neighbor had left her holovision on again.  He could see the faint reflection of the news program on her window. 

The familiar place had not brought the comfort Prowl had hoped for.  Instead a cascade of doubt, failure, anger poured through his spark.  What was a bot like him thinking about bringing a sparkling - a sparkling! - back to this facade of a home.  He could barely handle the grown recruits, this was a young, grieving, vulnerable sparkling.

“I’m sorry,” the sparkling whispered and Prowl realized Bluestreak was shaking.

A young, grieving, vulnerable sparkling standing on the sidewalk, in a place he’d never been, after driving all night, the day of his creator’s funeral.

“There’s no reason for you to apologize,” Prowl said, trying to gentle his tone.  This was impossible.  He was called gruff on a good day.  

“I know you didn’t want to take me.  Creator said no one would.”  The sparkling’s shoulders hunched tightly up around his helm.  “I heard all his friends at the funeral.  I’m sorry you won’t get any money for it.”

Prowl felt all the indecision drain from him.  

Blinding rage would do that to a bot.

He vented.

“No…I’m glad to do it, Bluestreak.  I want you here with me.”

“You don’t have to -”

“I don’t have anyone,” Prowl interrupted.  “I’m glad to have you with me now.  Very glad, Bluestreak.”  Oh.  He didn’t know his voice could sound like that.  “I hope you’ll be happy here. With me.”

Bluestreak hadn’t answered.  He’d reached out and taken Prowl’s servo and followed him up the stairs and into the habsuite with its single table, single second-servo couch, and pitiful kitchenette.  

Bluestreak hadn’t let go of Prowls servo until he’d fallen into recharge on the lumpy couch, leaning up against him, both pretending to watch the holovision as the sun came up.

So Prowl was not a nurturing bot, but he was trying to learn how to be enough of one for Blue, because he deserved better than what Spiral had given him and Prowl would be damned if he failed like that.

[hirocimacruiser]

Tommykaira R Tuned GTR

full spec

Public road specifications equipped with racing specs as standard.

[Main equipment of Tommykaira R)

●275/35ZR18 tires 9.5J×18 original aluminum wheels Front strut tower bar (with brake master stopper) Original double spring Tension rod Turbine change Multi-cup super intercooler ●Sport air element Engine control unit ●Quick shift gear

(Rear) Original shock absorber (manufactured by Bilstein) Pillow ball type front

Interior (steering wheel, carbon meter panel, combination meter assembly (300km/h

speedometer), triple meter, driving mat, shift knob) full aero (front bumper spoiler, rear wing spoiler, rear under spoiler, side step, rear garnish, aero mirror)

- Side decals, etc.

Easily over 400 horsepower. I get nervous just imagining the numbers of...

truth

Shocking full-spec power! Tommykaira R ¥7,620,000

The price is only for the Kyoto shop front car body. Options, registration fees, consumption tax, etc. are not included.

____________________________________________

TUNED SKYLINE M25

The Tommykaira M25 is positioned at the far right of the Anti GT-R. Let's give the ultimate complete machine to the champion of winding who sticks to FR forever.

[Stage1]

Maximum output 280 horsepower 5-speed manual car ¥3,880,000

[Stage2] Maximum output 300 hp ¥4,280,000

[Stage3] Maximum output 330HP <5M/T only> ¥4,680,000

*A/T specifications are set only for stages I and II

The price is for the vehicle body only. Options, fees, consumption tax, etc. are not included. The maximum output of the A/T car is 5 horsepower down from the manual car.

*Specifications and prices are subject to change. Prices shown are for 5 manual cars.

Recruitment of full-time employees (mechanic sales)!!

[diabolus1exmachina]

Skoda 110 Super Sport ‘Ferat’ (the czechoslovak vampire-car!) 

The Skoda 110 Super Sport 'Ferat' is one of those forgotten prototypes that had a very different purpose than the initial objective with which they were created. It is based on the Skoda 110 R Coupé, a concept car that was forgotten for a decade until a studio sued a vehicle to produce a horror film in 1981. In 1970 the Skoda 110 R Coupé was born, a well-known sports model in the world of rallying. A year later, the Czech manufacturer ventured to develop a prototype that would take it even further to the extreme. The Skoda 110 Super Sport Type 724 is born. Its main attraction was the absence of conventional doors, in whose place was a kind of capsule that gave access to the entire cabin, while in the central position was the same 1.1-liter gasoline block and 73 CV capable of reaching 161 km. /h maximum speed. The concept was presented at the 1971 Brussels Motor Show, although it failed to impress those present and ended up being forgotten and collecting dust in a company store until 1981, at which time a film studio was interested in the car for a horror movie. The film 'Upír z Feratu' from 1982, whose translation would be 'The Vampire of Ferat'. The Skoda 110 Super Sport Type 724 was lent for filming and given that its access capsule to the interior gave it a lot of personality, it was decided to make a series of tweaks to the design to adapt it to the glamor of the cinema. New bumpers and headlights, a huge spoiler, and black paint with red accents were installed. The plot of the film tells the story of a nurse who is recruited as a rally driver by a manufacturer (Ferat) to participate in races, although the car hides a hidden secret: it does not need gasoline to run, it does so from human blood. . Currently, the Skoda 110 Super Sport Type 724 (or 110 Super Sport 'Ferat' in honor of the film) is part of the company's museum.

[ingek73]

Duchess of Sussex faced ‘disgusting’ threats to life, senior Met officer says

‘Very real’ threats against Meghan led to prosecutions, says outgoing assistant commissioner Neil Basu

Pippa Crerar and Kiran Stacey

Tue 29 Nov 2022 18.29 GMT

The Duchess of Sussex was subject to multiple “disgusting” threats against her life, a senior police officer has revealed, adding they were “very real” and led to prosecutions.

Neil Basu, the outgoing assistant commissioner of the Metropolitan police, told Channel 4 News the threats were deemed credible, adding that the material would have left her feeling “under threat all of the time”.

The remarks throw new light on Prince Harry’s attempt to get automatic police protection for his family when they are in the UK.

In his final interview before leaving Scotland Yard, Basu, the country’s most senior officer of colour, criticised Suella Braverman’s talk of dreaming of sending migrants to Rwanda as “inexplicable” and suggested his outspoken views on racism may have cost him promotion to the top job in policing.

But it was his comments on the threats to Meghan’s life that appear to reveal why Prince Harry told the high court earlier this year that he would not feel safe when visiting his family under existing security arrangements. The Duke of Sussex subsequently won the right to challenge a Home Office decision not to grant him automatic police protection when he is in the UK – despite offering to pay for it himself.

When asked if there had been many credible threats against Meghan’s life, Basu answered: “Absolutely, and if you’d seen the stuff that was written and you were receiving it … the kind of rhetoric that’s online, if you don’t know what I know, you would feel under threat all of the time.”

He added: “We had teams investigating it. People have been prosecuted for those threats.”

The Sussexes have been approached for comment.

Basu became an officer at the Met in 1992, rising through the ranks to be appointed as the assistant commissioner for specialist operations in 2018. He has attracted criticism among Conservative MPs for his outspoken views about race and policing, such as criticising elements of Prevent, the government anti-terrorism programme which has targeted Muslim extremism.

He was tipped as a future Met commissioner, but did not apply to succeed Cressida Dick earlier this year, with government sources saying they were opposed to his candidacy.

Basu later applied to be head of the National Crime Agency, but was turned down for the job by the Home Office without any explanation.

He told Channel 4 News: “I do know that No 10 has previously interfered in me being appointed to positions. And the reason for that, I have not been told.

“I would surmise – and people who know me surmise – that it is because I’ve been outspoken about issues that do not fit with the current political administration. They are wrong. Diversity and inclusion are two of the most important things for policing.”

A Downing Street spokesperson said in a statement: “A new director general was appointed to the National Crime Agency earlier this year by the then home secretary [Priti Patel], following a fair and open recruitment campaign.”

The Home Office said in a statement: “The home secretary expects forces to take a zero-tolerance approach to racism within their workplace.

“But she is also very clear about the need to manage our borders effectively and have an asylum system that works for those in genuine need, as are the British people.”

Asked whether he regretted being seen as “woke”, Basu responded: “Are you alert to issues of racial and social justice? Yes I am. And if that is the definition of woke, I’ll wear it as a bumper sticker every day of the week.”

He added: “I was born in 1968. [Enoch Powell’s] ‘rivers of blood’ speech happened on the constituency next to where my parents lived and made their life hell. A mixed-race couple walking through the streets in the 1960s.”

He added: “I speak about race because I know something about race because I’m a 54-year-old mixed race man.”

[trashmenace]

Reading Rumble Round 13

Tunneling up through the floor, Richard Shaver emerges from the hollow earth and joins the fray.

Was Shaver a man haunted by strange messages from beyond and used those experiences to become a pulp writer? Was he an aspiring pulp writer first and used the Shaver Mystery as a gimmick? Was he a rambling lunatic whose inane scribblings were rewritten by Ray Palmer?

Whatever the truth, the man was crazy.

The Mind Rovers by Richard Shaver Amazing Stories January 1947, Vol 21 No 1

A prisoner learns a novel means of escape - into his own mind. The world his dreams created has spawned life, and he can live in that world while a robot in the dream world controls his daily activities. He can travel into other dream worlds, where he recruits other prisoner and seeks to bust up the Prison Industrial Complex Racket, only to find it run by a former Nazi with strong mental defenses. Ambitious, creative, and Shaver definitely doesn't pull it off.

The Pitch by Dennis Etchison Whispers, October 1978

Mall kitchen appliance pitchman with dark motives.

He Asked for Hell by Paul Ernst Horror Stories, November 1935

A crystal cube creates a doorway to a gruesome dimension of the dead, where a man tries to dump the body of his murder victim. Truly chilling.

The Demons of Darkside by Leigh Brackett Startling Stories, January 1941

A falsely accused man hijacks a ship to Mercury for evidence to save his loved one and encounters telepathic crystals.

On a Dark October by Joe R. Lansdale The Horror Show, Spring 1984

Available in Bumper Crop from Amazon https://amzn.to/3LjIntf

Dark quickie tale of human sacrifice.

The Grisly Horror by Robert E. Howard Weird Tales, February 1935

Arcane African rites and a carnivorous gorilla in the pine swamps of Mississippi. More racist than it sounds.

All authors stay in the ring

[robins-den]

odnt worry robin i will munchmcjcnchcrunchcurnnch all the candy in your room and then explode and fall ovwr and die of a headache

thank u so much my dear nephew i appreciate it

Pan out on Grif and Simmons, who are approaching another Red soldier (Sarge) clad in red armor.

Sarge: Hurry up, ladies. This ain't no ice cream social.

Simmons: Ice cream social?

Simmons and Grif exchange looks.

Cut to Sarge.

Sarge: Stop the pillow talk, you two. Anyone want to guess why I gathered you here today?

Grif: Uh, is it because the war's over and you're sending us home?

Sarge: (Sarcastically) That's exactly it, Private. War's over. We won. Turns out you're the big hero and we're gonna hold a parade in your honor. I get to drive the float, and Simmons here IS IN CHARGE OF CONFETTI!

Grif: I'm no stranger to sarcasm, sir.

Sarge: Goddamn it, Private! Shut your mouth or else I'll have Simmons slit your throat while you're asleep!

Simmons: Oh I'd do it, too.

Sarge: I know you would, Simmons. Good man. (brief pause) Couple of things today, ladies. Command has seen fit to increase our ranks here at Blood Gulch Outpost Number One.

Grif: Crap. We're getting a rookie.

Sarge: That's right, dead man. Our new recruit will be here within the week, but today we received the first part of our shipment from Command.

Grif and Simmons exchange looks again.

Sarge turns towards a hill behind them.

Sarge: Lopez, bring up the vehicle.

A large, armor-plated, jeep-like vehicle comes over the rise with Lopez in the driver seat, who pulls up along side the Reds.

Simmons: Shotgun!

Grif: Shotgun! (realizes he is too late) Fuck.

Sarge: May I introduce our new, light reconnaissance vehicle.

Camera closes in on the front of the vehicle and starts to move left, circling it.

Sarge: It has four inch armor plating, mag bumper suspension, a mounted machine gunner position, and total seating for three. Gentlemen, this is the M12 LRV! I like to call it the Warthog.

Cut to Grif and Simmons.

Simmons: Why Warthog, sir?

Cut to Sarge.

Sarge: Because M12 LRV is too hard to say in conversation, son.

Cut to Grif.

Grif: I know, but why Warthog? I mean, it doesn't really look like a pig.

Sarge: (after a brief pause) Say that again.

Grif: I think it looks more like a puma.

Sarge: What in Sam Hell is a puma?

Simmons: Uh, you mean like the shoe company?

Grif: No, like a puma. It's a big cat, like a lion.

Sarge: You're making that up.

Grif: I'm telling you, it's a real animal!

Sarge: Simmons, I want you to poison Grif's next meal.

Simmons: Yes, sir!

Sarge: (pointing at the front of the Warthog) Look, see these two tow hooks? They look like tusks, and what kind of animal has tusks?

Cut to Grif.

Grif: A walrus.

Sarge: Didn't I just tell you to stop making up animals?!

Cut to a view of the Reds through the sniper rifle scope.

Cut to Church, wielding the rifle, and Tucker, wielding a M6D pistol.

Tucker: What is that thing?

Church lowers the rifle.

Church: I don't know, man. Looks like uh.. looks like they've got some sorta car down there. We'd better get back to base and report it.

Tucker: (taken aback) A car? How come they get a car?!

Church: What are you complaining about, man? We're about to get a tank in the very next drop.

Tucker: (disappointed) You can't pick up chicks in a tank.

Church: Oh, you know what? You could bitch about anything couldn't you? We're going to get a tank, and you're worried about chicks. What chicks are we gonna pick up, man? And secondly, how are you gonna pick up chicks in a car that looks like that?

Tucker: (sighs) What kind of car is it?

Church: (looking through the scope of the sniper rifle) I dunno, I've never seen a car like that before. It looks like a... uh... like a big cat of some kind.

Tucker: ...What, like a puma?

Church: Yeah, man, there you go.

Cut to Red Team.

Sarge: So unless anybody has anymore mythical creatures to suggest as a name for the new vehicle, we're going to stick with the Warthog. How about it, Grif?

Grif: No, sir. No more suggestions.

Sarge: Are you sure? How 'bout Bigfoot?

Grif: It's okay.

Sarge: Unicorn?

Grif: No really. Uh, I'm cool.

Sarge: Sasquatch?

Simmons: Leprechaun?

Grif: Hey, he doesn't need any help, man.

Sarge: Phoenix?

Grif: (sighs) Christ.

Fade to black.

Sarge: Hey Simmons, what's the name of that Mexican lizard? Eats all the goats.

Simmons: Uh, that would be the Chupacabra, sir.

Sarge: Hey Grif, Chupathingy! How about that? I like it. Gotta ring to it.