#handheld metal detectors

[anchortex-corporation]

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[smarthomesolutions]

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[auroralwriting]

poker face

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

spencer and you go to the casino to find the unsub. you think he looks pretty hot playing poker.

word count: 2.0k

warnings: making out, gambling, poker face spencer aghhh

"Forensics got a fingerprint match on the last victim. Eddie Langdon. We're looking into him." You said as you walked back into the office that held some of your team members.

Hotch came in behind you, "Hey, any luck?" Emily asked.

"No, they don't want to allocate agency funds for the buy-in. I'm still working on it." Hotch replied, looking down to his phone as he got back on another call.

Rossi chuckled, "Well, I can't imagine why not. We're only asking for fifty thousand bucks of taxpayer money so that FBI agents can play Texas hold 'em."

Emily eyed Rossi, "Hey, what about you?"

"What about me? What?"

"You could stake us the buy-in." Emily smirked.

Spencer sat down next to you, "Yeah, you're a best-selling author."

You nodded enthusiastically, "Don't forget a best-selling author and longtime FBI agent. You could loan us the money, or something."

"No," Rossi shook his head.

"Why not?" Emily frowned.

"One, it's against regulations, and I'd like to hold on to this job for a little while longer." Rossi began.

Under your breath, you muttered, "It's just a little violation, 's all."

Rossi just rolled his eyes at your comment. "And two, I prefer to spend my money on actual things, like single-malt scotch, a fine cigar, beautiful artwork."

"Poker chips are things!" JJ replied quickly with a smile.

Rossi just scoffed as Spencer spoke up again. "Maybe just think of it as like a new experience. I mean, at your age, how often does that happen?" Oh, no he didn't.

"At my what?" Rossi slowly turned his head to Spencer who just gulped and awkwardly looked away.

"Rossi, this may be our only chance to get this guy." You said slowly. "They government isn't going to give us the money. You're our only way to catch this killer. Please?" You paused for a moment. "And if it helps, you can just write a new book to get some more cha-ching."

Rossi sighed, "All right, fine. But I'm ignoring that last comment. I'm a decent poker player, but I can't promise that I can stay in the game long enough to--"

"You know what?" Emily interrupted. "I bet you're a great poker player, but what if we sent in Reid?"

"I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Parump because of my card-counting ability." Spencer commented as if it was the most casual thing in the whole world.

You raised your hand slightly, "Why did I not know this sooner?"

"Look, I know I'm not a genius like the boy wonder here, but poker is not Blackjack." Rossi argued. "It's about bluffing, reading human nature, head games. It's not math."

That's when Spencer stood up, "That's not entirely accurate. There actually is a mathematical equation for knowing when to raise and when to fold. If P represents the size of the pot at the time of play, then P times N minus one, with N representing the estimated number of players in the final round of betting--"

"Okay! Fine, I surrender!" Rossi cut Spencer off quickly. "Just try not to lose all my money. Actually, you know what?" Rossi quickly spoke your name. "Take her with you, I don't want you losing all my money and if she needs to interrupt the game, then so be it."

Your eyes widened, "Rossi, I've never stepped foot into a casino in my life."

"You'll be fine!" Rossi waved it off as Spencer gave you a comforting look.

Oh, this was not what you expected at all.

Spencer and you had to get checked by security with the handheld metal detectors. Yours didn't go off, but Spencer's did. He played it off as just a pen. Thank god they accepted that.

The two of you walked in. For someone who stared at dead bodies and killers all day, this was the most nerve wracking thing you'd experienced in a while. It also didn't help that Hotch decided you and Spencer were to play a couple when you had such a big crush on him.

"Hey," Spencer muttered, "It's okay."

"Just nervous," You replied under your breath. The two of you made your way to the bar. Spencer got himself a drink, and you got some champagne. "Is it really just math?"

Spencer nodded, "Math, and a little bit of luck."

The moment you felt Spencer take your hand, you tried to pull away. "Spencer, what about germs--"

"I don't mind your germs, you're my friend. Plus, we have a part to play, remember?" Spencer muttered, locking his fingers between yours. Your heart pounded as you did the same.

"I'll observe as you play," You muttered, remembering the list of things you needed to look for to find the unsub. "I know you don't need it, but good luck."

Spencer smiled at you, the comment being just so sweet and innocent. "Thank you." You looked so nervous, so out of place. It made Spencer notice you more.

Spencer had taken a seat at a table, which you stood behind him, leaning over his shoulder. Your hands rested on the back of the chair. So far, no one caught your eye, until one man at another table did. Casually, you poked Spencer and he caught onto your stare.

"You know, would it be all right if I sat at table two instead of four? I have a pre-glaucoma condition and the light's kind of bothering my eyes." Spencer called over the employee, who took him to the desired table.

The men didn't just eye Spencer as he sat down, you noticed they eyed you too. Defensively, you wrapped your arms around Spencer's neck from behind. "Ah, I'm calling." One of the men said."

"I'll raise." One guy said. You stared at him, noticing his red eyes. Weird. "Eight thousand."

"Eight thousand.. That's, uh, fifty-six months wages for the average person in Bangladesh." Spencer commented casually. In reply, you giggled and played with some of hair, pushing it out of his face. Spencer hoped you didn't feel his face turn hot under your fingers. "Uh, kind of makes you think, doesn't it?"

"Hey, it's eight thou to you." One guy remarked. "Now, are you in or are you out?"

Spencer sighed, "I.. am in. And I raise."

"Three raise? That's too rich for my blood." The guy sighed. One man, the one who raised before Spencer, bored holes into him.

"Are you in, sir?" Spencer asked.

"I'll call."

"Call?"

Spencer flipped his cards, "Straight."

Based on everyone's reactions and Spencer's coy face, straight was a very good thing. Playing the act, you kissed Spencer's forehead and squealed lightly, deciding to stroke his cheek for a moment. "A gut shot straight draw? Are you kidding me?"

"That is just-- that is nuts."

It was no wonder Spencer was banned from casinos. Spencer's poker face was good. He simply just covered his mouth after a moment and stared, watching everyone's reactions. His hand slowly ran down to his chin, and in that moment, it did it for you. Sure, Spencer was your cute little nerd, but he'd never been so hot to you.

You noticed next to the man who was staring, he had an eight ball keychain. "Hey, mind if I look at this?" You asked, reaching for it.

The man was quick to grab your hand hard. Spencer jumped into action, pulling you from him.

"Hey. What's the problem, sir?" An employee asked.

"She's reaching for my chips!"

"I'm not even in the game," You remarked.

The employee grabbed your arms, "You need to come with me."

If Spencer's eyes could've gotten any wider, they would've popped out of his head. "Hey! Don't manhandle her! She can walk, let go!" Spencer ripped the mans arms off of you and pulled you into his chest. "Come on, love. Let's just go."

Spencer's words caused your chest to tingle as he guided you away. You watched as he clicked the call-device, it lit up red. The look on the mans face, your unsub, was clear. He knew.

You met up with the team as you were lead out the doors, "They're FBI agents," Hotch informed the guard.

"There he goes, plaid shirt, baseball hat." Spencer pointed.

After searching the whole casino, the unsub made a break for it. His name was Curtis Banks. You and Spencer were sent to his house to see if he was there. After a quick search, it was clear he wasn't there.

"Hey Hotch, he isn't here. There's a foreclosure sign in the lawn." You informed your chief.

"All right, you and Reid stay there in case he comes back." Hotch hung up the phone.

You shrugged to Spencer, "And we wait."

After a beat of silence, Spencer turned to you. "At the casino, you couldn't keep your hands off of me after I won." Spencer said out of nowhere. "Your physical proximity was close, you frequently stared at me--"

"I was playing my part," You argued.

"Yeah, too well." Spencer pointed out. "Were you checking me out?"

Heat rose to your cheeks, "No. Why would I do that?"

"Look at me and say it," Spencer demanded, but his tone wasn't harsh. It was simply just firm. "You won't look at me."

Slowly, you turned to look at Spencer, "I wasn't checking you out."

"You can't look me in the eyes. You've never not looked me in the eyes." Spencer continued.

"Stop profiling me," You tried to end the discussion. It was clear Spencer had caught you. You weren't interested in being turned down, especially when you were in some sort of steak-out with the genius.

Spencer frowned, "I'm not profiling you. I'm just telling you as it is."

"That's what profiling is," You countered. "We don't need to have this conversation. Was I checking you out? Yes, I was. Is that what you wanted me to say? That you looked so damn hot winning thousands of dollars with your best poker face while you let me all over you?"

Spencer said your name, but you kept rambling. It took him grabbing your chin and forcing your face closer to his to make you stop. "You think I'm hot?"

"Yeah," You stuttered. "Yeah, I do."

Slowly, Spencer trailed his finger over your bottom lip. "I always thought you were the most gorgeous girl I'd ever seen."

"Where's this confidence coming from?" You asked.

Spencer shrugged, "Gamblers frequently experience a phenomenon called the 'winning high,' it releases dopamine and adrenaline, making gamblers do riskier things than they'd normally do."

"You gonna use that high to kiss me?" Your voice was a mere mutter. Your lips were just grazing Spencers.

"Is that what you want?" Spencer lowly asked.

"What do you think?" You retorted.

Spencer's lips slammed onto your own, harder than you expected. His large hand had the back of your neck, and he pulled you impossibly closer. It was hot, just how you wanted it. Flimsily, Spencer reached to the bottom of his seat to scoot it back. His hands went to your hips, guiding you to move across the seats to his lap.

"You know, we're still on the lookout." You mumbled, pressing another kiss to the genius's lips.

"They haven't called us yet." Spencer challenged, hand running down your back to your waist.

Slowly, Spencer's hand began to creep up your shirt, just to your navel-level. His kisses descended to your neck, pressing opened mouth, warm kisses to your skin.

"Spence," You whined, grabbing his hair to push him closer. He sighed in reply.

You both jolted when your phone began to ring. You grabbed it quickly, "What?"

"Ooh, someone's frisky." Derek teased over the phone. "We got the guy. You two are all good to head back."

"Thanks, Morgan. See you back there." You hung up the phone, tossing it back to to your seat. "Looks like we have to wrap this up."

Spencer smirked, "We fly back in the morning. We'll find some time soon."

Spencer's words weren't a tease, they were a promise.

[moodyvoid]

Imagine the League of Villains are being scanned by one of those handheld metal detectors.

Obviously, Dabi is setting it off constantly on almost every inch of his body, nearly breaking the damn thing.

Everyone else gets cleared until Mr. Compress is the last one— seeming a bit reluctant for some reason.

His prosthetic arm sets it off, but otherwise everything is in the clear… until it’s lowered to his crotch, where the scanner lets out a loud beep.

Everyone freezes and Mr. Compress shrugs like, “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 7

Part 6

It took Damian the rest of the afternoon to prepare for his trip to Amity Park. Jon helpfully agreed to cover for him, on the promise of a copy of the upcoming Cheese Viking 2 and getting filled in on all the hot Bat gossip afterwards. Wasn’t friendship grand?

Pennyworth thankfully agreed that ‘bonding time’ between the Super Sons was a good use of fall break and even took the time to ‘Prepare some healthy snacks for the young Masters, lest you eat junk food the whole week’. The task also handily distracted the butler while Damian packed the Batwing with all the necessary surveillance equipment he would need and set up the program to spoof his flight data. Damian had no doubt that Father wouldn’t be fooled for long, but with the Bat it was always better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

The flight to Illinois was mercifully uneventful. Damian rappelled off in the middle of the eponymous city Park, then instructed the autopilot to take the plane to a wooded area outside city limits and park there in camouflage mode. Once he was sure his arrival had gone undetected, he changed into civvies and with his backpack full of gear set off in the direction of Fenton Works on foot. In jeans, sneakers, a dark hoodie and a baseball cap he looked like any other kid his age, even if he was out after curfew. Damian made sure to stick to the shadows and ducked behind cover whenever a car passed him.

All in all it took him until the early morning hours to arrive at the correct address. Intellectually, he had known the Fentons operated their workshop out of the family home, but he was in no way prepared for the monstrosity of a building that greeted him. Damian couldn’t help but stop and stare in disbelief.

What had once started out as an ordinary brownstone building had a glaring neon sign out front, proudly proclaiming the company name. Perched precariously on the roof was a gigantic metal structure that looked like a cross between a cartoon UFO and an observatory. There was no way this was legal or sane. If something like this had popped up in Gotham it would have been flagged as a Rogue hideout and bugged to hell and back. Hell, Damian was half tempted to break in immediately to start planting cameras but was held back by the likely presence of a custom security system. Mad scientists were rude like that and Damian didn’t want to tip his hand too early. He would have to at least wait until he was sure the Fentons weren’t at home.

Damian tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and strolled past the building at a fake casual pace. The windows were dark and the building was silent, except for the faint hum of the neon sign. This early on a Saturday morning, the residents were likely fast asleep. He spotted an electric scooter chained up next to the stairs leading up to the entrance and made the deduction that it likely belonged to Daniel. Under the guise of retying his shoelaces, he dropped to one knee and surreptitiously attached a bug to the vehicle. Ideally he would get the opportunity to bug Daniel himself, but for now this would have to do. Hoping that no one had noticed him, Damian continued down the street.

He had researched the area ahead of time and had found an apartment a few buildings down and across the street that was advertised as available for rent and was unoccupied. Breaking in and disabling the home alarm was child’s play, and after making sure he was alone in the apartment, Damian settled in to begin his surveillance.

He pulled the handheld radiation detector out of his backpack and after making sure it was operational he slipped it into his pocket. With no way to boost its range he would have to get pretty close to Daniel with no major obstructions in the way in order to verify if he had been in contact with the marked bills he had slipped Phantom. But Damian was confident in his ability to stay undetected. After all, Daniel had no reason to suspect he was being stalked by a curious Bat.

Damian kept himself occupied by listening to the local radio broadcast over his comm. The hosts sounded like chipper twenty-somethings, excitedly shilling for various local events happening over fall break, in-between shilling for local businesses. Why anyone would want to eat at an establishment called the Nasty Burger was beyond Damian. Whenever they stopped nattering to play actual music it was a blessing even if the appeal of the songs was entirely lost on the young vigilante. Finally, at 8am they had an actual news segment. Most of it was covering major US and global events, nothing Damian hadn’t already heard. Elections, natural disasters, rising tensions in Bialya…

“...and in local news, the City Library has announced that clean-up after last week’s ghost attack is finished, and they will be open at their normal hours on Monday!” the female host said cheerily, as if she was talking about the weather. “As usual, we would like to remind our listeners to keep their third eyes peeled for any ghost sightings! In case of a ghost attack, follow standard protocol and head to your nearest ghost shelter. Thank you! And here’s Mark with sports!”

Damian was flabbergasted. Ghost attack? This city experienced supernatural incursions and treated it like it was a normal occurrence? He’d read that the Fentons were ghost hunters, but he hadn’t thought anyone was taking them seriously! If Amity Park was under attack on a regular basis, how come the Justice League didn’t have a file on the city? Surely the news should have leaked to the outside world by now!

It was rare that Damian was caught so utterly wrong footed. His cursory research into Amity Park had turned up nothing like this! He was itching to get back to the Batcomputer to do a deep dive on the city and its history. Unfortunately, all he had on him was his phone which was ill suited for serious data compilation. At best he could scour local news sites and social media for any hint as to what was going on.

After half an hour of fruitless searching, he gave up in disgust. There was no mention of ghosts anywhere, save for the Fentons’ own website. Yet the news report had been almost blasé about the subject! Something was rotten in the State of Illinois.

All he could do for now was stare out the window at the Fenton’s front porch and hope his quarry made an appearance soon.

At 9.13 AM there was finally movement at the Fenton house. A dark-haired teenager in jeans, a light T-shirt, a backpack and a bicycle helmet bounded down the front steps and unlocked the electric scooter. It was unmistakably Daniel.

Damian hurriedly packed away his things, grabbed his backpack and left the apartment. He made sure to rearm the security system and lock the door, leaving no trace of ever having been there. Of course Damian wasn’t about to pursue his target across the rooftops of an unknown city in broad daylight. He would just have to wait for Daniel to arrive at his destination and follow him there. He retrieved his phone and pulled up the tracking data. It looked like the teen was headed towards the city center.

Damian tuned his comm to the listening device he had planted and set off towards downtown Amity at a light jog. For a while, all he heard was background noise. After about ten minutes, Daniel came to a stop.

“Hey Tucker, ready to go?” That had to be Daniel.

“Hey Danny!” a second male voice answered, “I was just waiting for you. Sam says she’ll meet us at the main entrance of the mall.”

“Sweet. Hopefully we can grab something cool from Game’O’Rama if we beat the rush.”

“You said it, my dude. Come on!”

The tracker resumed its movement. Now that he had a destination, Damian used his phone to call a cab. There couldn’t be that many malls in a city this size.

Daniel and his friend ‘Tucker’ kept up a steady stream of idle chatter on their journey. Damian learned more than he ever wanted to know about the attractive qualities of the female students at their high school, the tediousness of the homework assignments they had received for the week and the reviews of recent horror movie releases. Inconsequential chit chat as far as Damian was concerned. Once the pair arrived at their destination they parked their scooters and were soon out of range of the listening device. Damian cut the transmission and spent the rest of the short cab ride trying to find information on Daniel’s companion. Since they were apparently classmates and he had a first name to go on, it didn’t take long to narrow it down to Tucker Foley. Damian made a mental note to investigate him in depth later.

The mall was moderately busy when he arrived but nowhere near as bad as Gotham. Luckily there was a floorplan displayed at the entrance and it didn’t take Damian long to find the Game’O’Rama store. Predictably, it was dedicated to video games, gaming accessories and memorabilia. A sign in the window announced a major weekend sale, likely what had drawn Daniel and his companions. Damian slipped on a pair of mirrored sunglasses to conceal his eyes and meandered into the store. Wandering between the aisles, pretending to examine the games on offer, it didn’t take him long to find his quarry and Damian got his first good look at the trio.

Daniel was almost a head taller than Damian, slightly paler and with his dark hair mussed up from the scooter ride earlier. His clothes were slightly threadbare, and not the kind that was intentional. His white T-shirt bore a faded NASA logo and his jeans were frayed at the cuffs. He had dark circles under his eyes, though not nearly as bad as Drake got when he was on a case. Nonetheless, for the moment he seemed cheerful and at ease. He was examining the back of a disk case.

“I don’t know Tuck, I’m not much for medieval fantasy,” he said amusedly, “and a lot of these monsters look like ghosts we’ve seen. I get enough of them on a day to day basis, I don’t need them in my video games too.”

Again, this talk of ghosts.

The African American male next to Daniel had to be Tucker Foley. He was just a few inches shorter than Daniel, with his hair in shoulder length dreadlocks partially covered by a red beret. A matching red T-shirt with white Atari logo and baggy camo pants screamed nerd even before you got close enough to notice the black rimmed glasses and the clunky looking device he was tapping away on. Where did he get it from, the middle-ages?

“Look, the reviews are pretty great, and if we avoid everything ghost related what’s even left?” the boy argued, “You can’t let ghosts ruin your fun, man.”

“Tucker’s right, Danny.” the third member of their group chimed in. She was dressed head to toe in black, with a sheer, lacy top, a knee-length skirt, fishnet gloves and stockings and a pair of combat boots. With the thick soles giving her added height, she was almost as tall as Daniel. She wore eerily pale foundation making her dark purple lipstick and eyeshadow pop out even more. She had a small nose stud with a matching purple stone. Her earrings were shaped like spiders dangling from a web and she wore a pentagram necklace. Damian knew some of his schoolmates belonged to the goth subculture, but Gotham Academy’s dress code heavily limited such self-expression on campus. He guessed this girl was either really dedicated to the style or really dedicated to pissing off her parents. Maybe both.This had to be ‘Sam’.

“Besides, if Technus couldn’t ruin gaming for us no one else should either!” she continued.

“Fiiiiine,” Daniel sighed, clearly playing up his reluctance. “but if Amity gets attacked by an army of goblins next I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’!” He double checked the price tag. “Splitsies?”

The girl scoffed and plucked the case from his hand. “I’ll take this one, you can pay for lunch later. Why don’t you two go ahead to Pineapple Republic for those jeans you wanted? I’ll catch up to you.”

“If you’re sure. Thanks Sam!” Daniel leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I guess we’ll see you there.”

“Yeah, thanks Sam.”

“Go on, shoo!” she laughed and headed over to the cash register as the boys left the store. Making a split second decision, Damian grabbed a random game from the shelf and got in line behind Sam. He leaned slightly towards her, pretending to examine the figurines behind the counter and stealthily stuck a bug to her skirt. Now he could listen in on their conversation without having to risk being noticed.

After paying for his purchase he wandered off in the direction the other teens had taken. He would just have to leave the game somewhere ‘accidentally’ at the earliest opportunity. Pretending to check his phone he tuned his comm to the frequency of the new bug. 

“...I think those are still a little short on you.” Sam said amusedly.

“Man, I’m glad I finally got my growth spurt, but having to replace most of my wardrobe is gonna be a pain in the ass!” Daniel complained.

“Look at it this way Danny, this could be your chance to branch out. A whole new style, a whole new you!” Sam countered enthusiastically.

Damian walked towards the source of the signal. He didn’t follow the trio directly into Pineapple Republic, instead heading into the shoe store across from the clothing store. Browsing there would let him keep an eye on the entrance.

“Let me guess, would this style include black, black and more black?” came Foley’s snarky voice.

“Black is timeless, I’ll have you know,” Sam sniffed in mock offense, “and Danny does look good in it. Just try it?”

“I don’t know Sam, I don’t wanna blow my allowance on clothes that don’t feel like me.”

“Oh! We could always try the thrift store, they have plenty of cool stuff! And upcycling is great for the environment.”

“Uh, hard pass,” came the flat reply, “I would like to survive the year with some of my dignity intact, please.”

“Yeah dude, if Dash and his cronies caught wind of Danny going to Goodwill or something they’d never let him live it down.”

“There is nothing wrong with buying second-hand!”

“Says the girl in $500 guaranteed cruelty free designer boots.” Foley shot back.

“That’s different!” Sam sputtered, “And besides, I don’t see why you still chase the approval of those jerks.”

“Easy guys, settle down,” Daniel said placatingly, “Sam, you know it’s different for us. You might be able to brush off Paulina’s snarky comments, but I can’t just brush off Dash trying to rearrange my face. I’d rather not paint an even bigger target on my back.”

Sam gave a loud sigh. “Ugh, stupid high school politics. I can’t wait to graduate.”

“I dunno, if things go according to plan you’ll have to deal with real politics, Ms Future Administrator of the EPA Manson.” Daniel teased.

“You mean Senator Manson.” Foley chimed in.

“Madam President Manson!”

“Stop it guys!” the girl laughed, “I’ll leave the political ass kissing to someone else. I just want to save the planet! But I gotta get my doctorate first.”

“Well if you do end up having to take over the country to do it, there’s one thing to keep in mind,” Foley said sagely, “You can’t be much worse than President Luthor.”

The two replied with fake gagging noises while Foley just snickered.

“But seriously, since you brought up mixing up my style… I was thinking of getting my ears pierced.” Daniel said hesitantly.

“Really? Ooh, do you want studs? Danglers? An industrial?” Sam gushed excitedly.

“Well… aw nuts.” Daniel’s voice was suddenly tense.

“You know what?” Sam rushed out, equally tense, “I think you should go and try these pants on. In the changing room. Right now.”

Damian frowned. What the hell had happened? He glanced out the shop window but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Suddenly, he heard distant screams and the sound of glass breaking. It’s almost like being back in Gotham.

Part 8

[wazzi2ya]

Husk owns one of those handheld metal detectors which he uses exclusively when Niffty has to enter his room.

[biocrafthero]

Prev post reminds me of how my sibling was harassed by TSA one time because they have diabetes and use wireless monitors and stuff to regulate their blood sugar levels. They couldn't go through the metal detector without risking disrupting their devices so they asked for a handheld scanner thing to be done instead but the asshole TSA agent didn't give two shits about their health and forced them through the metal detector. I don't remember if any of the devices got messed up or not but the fact that they put their medical devices at risk at all was so shitty. Literally fuck the TSA

[brandnewdress]

is it..stupid of me to be scared to go to the london shows now :( idk how to process this..

it’s not stupid to be worried, but you have to remember that 1. we don’t know the exact motivations of this murderer for all we know he was going to target any large gathering in the area and 2. after the Manchester attacks, the security at wembley is now really high (much higher than it was for rep), they check everyone - you walk through a metal detector and then they use that little handheld thing (very much like they do at airports) so the chances of anything happening are negligible even IF someone would be evil/stupid enough to try anything

[irismfrost]

July 21 - Independent Excursion 1: The Economics of Taipei Nightlife

The cultural aspect of Taiwan that I’d like to focus on is the profitability of the nightlife here, particularly the club scene. 

During my time in Taipei, Taiwan’s capital city, I’ve been out 3 nights. The first night, my group arrived at our first location (Club A) around 10:30pm. We were planning to get there early to avoid the line and pay a cheaper cover. The line didn’t start moving until about 11pm, but we were glad we got there early because the line was getting pretty long and cover was cheaper before 11:30pm. Once 11pm hit, the doors opened and the line started moving pretty fast. The bouncers scanned our passports, charged us cover (500NTD for girls and 800NTD for guys), gave us a receipt with a ticket attached, gave us a wrist band, and sent us through a metal detector. It was quite a process, but one that they perfected. Once in the club, the ticket we got with our receipt at the beginning could be used for a free drink. We found out that the cups were refillable, so if you finished your drink and still had your cup, you could get a free refill. This meant that you could ideally get free drinks all night, so we did and we stayed at club A all night. 

The second night, my group did a bar crawl tour. This included a tour guide who showed us 3 different bar locations and gave us a little background on each. Our first stop was a traditional looking bar (Bar B) where our tour guide highlighted a famous Taiwanese liquor, Kinmen Kao Liang 38, a 38% ABV liquor made from sorghum famous for its mild taste (it tastes like a mix between vodka and whisky). We all had a free shot and received a 50NTD coupon. The drinks were expensive and definitely made up for the fact that we all got a free shot. Our second stop was a famous brewery with craft beers (Bar C). Again, we all got a small sample for free and paid for the rest of our drinks there, which were also expensive. I had some tea beer which tasted like tea with beer flavor - it’s hard to describe but was actually really good. Our next stop was a “pour your own” bar (Bar D). We got a small sample of one of the drinks and had to buy a full drink separately. Our last stop was a club, which our tour guide did not join us for (Club E). Similarly to Club A, they had perfected a system for letting people in. We got to cut the line because we were with the bar crawl group, but the process is: you get your passport scanned, a wristband, a hand stamp (it didn’t show up, but may have been a black light stamp), and a bouncer gives you a pat down and waves a handheld metal detector over you. It was free for girls and 300NTD for guys, but you get unlimited free drinks and didn’t need your cup like Club A. We were in the club for about an hour when all of the lights suddenly turned on and the police came. I’m not sure exactly what they were looking for but they took all of our passports and typed the numbers into their system and gave it back. It wasn’t scary as much as it was annoying because it took so long. The second they left and the lights turned back off, the beat dropped and every cheered and it was like nothing happened. It seemed like club raids are a common thing in Taipei.

For our last adventure, we wanted to try a new club. After some searching and questioning locals, we discovered that this club had closed down. We saw another club (Club F) with no line and asked them what cover was - they said free. They gave us all a wristband and the second we got in there, we knew that we weren’t staying. There was hardly anyone there. The tables were almost filled, but there was no one in between and no one on the dance floor. There were 4 bouncers just standing next to the dance floor and they were doing nothing because there was no one there. We used the bathrooms and left. We noticed that there was another club in the same building, but we weren’t sure how to get in (Club G) but saw it was on the basement level. We took the elevator and miraculously skipped the line. When I went up to the entrance, they noticed that we didn’t have a stamp or a wristband and told us to go outside and wait in line. We did not because there didn’t seem to be a lot of people in there as far as we could tell and after we left the building, the line seemed short. Disappointed, we went to Family Mart to regroup and all grabbed a drink to sip on while we waited in our next line - this time, we were determined to go to a place that had people in it. We ended up trying a famous club (Club H), as it was listed online as a nice and established club. We avoided it in the past because the comments said that it was a little racist towards Americans, but those comments were from a while ago, so we decided to give it a shot. We tried our best to down the rest of our Family Mart drinks because they didn’t let outside drinks in the building (I was unsuccessful, as I probably had less than ¼ of my beverage). There was suspiciously practically no line, but we went through a metal detector again and this time, they were a little biased against the guys in our group. I was able to hold onto all of my things going through and the guys had to send everything through the conveyor belt, including their literal own belts. We took the elevator upstairs and there was a longer line waiting for us. After we got to the front, they checked all of our passports while we were inas we got closer to the front of the line and we found out that the cover was 1000NTD and you only got your first 4 drinks for free, as opposed to clubs A and E with unlimited drinks. We left the line and gathered by the elevators. As we were deciding if the 1000NTD was worth it, the other elevator opened and was filled with the police - this club was about to get raided just like club E. We ended up leaving and going next door to Club A. We went through the same entry process and paid the same cover as the last time we went. Unlimited drinks were included and we also discovered that you could turn in your cup for a chip so that you didn’t have to carry your cup around when you were on the floor. After being in there for less than 30 minutes, the police came and must’ve just finished raiding Club H. Club A had two stories with bars on each and also took a long time. But once they were done, everything went back to normal and we stayed the whole night. 

Reflection

We all had a great time at clubs A and E, but how are they still in business? They are giving out free drinks all night that are definitely worth more than the cover that we paid to get in (at least if we were to buy the drinks ourselves). Maybe the alcohol itself costs less than our cover, but when you also consider staff (bartenders, bouncers, promoters, management, etc) and rent, people like us shouldn't be worth admitting. 

According to a Harvard Business School Case Study done on a famous New York Club, Marquee, most clubs fold after being open for about 18 months, and the longer a club is open, the harder it gets for it to stay open. The Marquee is an exception to this statistic, as is Club A, E, and H. Club A has been open since March 2018, almost 6.5 years. Club E has been open since September of 2020, coming up on 4 years. Club H has been open since June of 2018, a little over 6 years. Of course, these clubs are highly rated and have a reputation to support them, but if everyone there was like me, they wouldn’t be making any money - it’s a business after all. 

The Marquee case study explains a little more about the revenue drivers of clubs. There are two types of customers that visit a nightclub: bottle service customers and filler crowd. Bottle service customers are the people who sit at the tables. They are high end customers who are ready to buy a lot of top shelf liquor. According to the study, these customers account for 40% of all people in the club, yet 80% of revenue. However, in order to attract these customers, the club needs to be at capacity. Just like how our group left Club F, no one wants to be at a club with no one in it. Even if all of the tables are full, it still looks empty. This is where people like me come in. I am part of the filler crowd. We are always standing or dancing and fill the space between the tables, making the club look full and attracting the high-end clients. People like me are more of an investment that will drive revenue than the actual revenue itself. These clubs do not make as much of a margin on the filler crowd as the bottle service customers. Places like Club E also seem to partner with 3rd party promoters, like the bar crawl tour, to help generate the filler crowd. Even partnerships like this, must be a large expense, but the investment must be worth it. 

According to the Marquee study, another large factor is the relationships built between these high-end clients. Running a club, and a bar, is a service, and consistent service is what keeps these establishments in business. Prioritizing repeat customers is what helps these clubs maintain and build their reputation, while retaining the clients themselves is also a huge revenue driver. 

High revenue must offset the costs to create real profit, but providing a nice service means that you have higher costs. For example, Club A has plenty of tables, two stories, a balcony with a view of Taipei 101 (prime real estate), multiple bouncers, and probably plenty of promoters. To stay in business for 4-6 years, these clubs must be making a nice profit from these bottle service customers, especially since they are giving out free drinks all night to the filler crowd assuming the crowd is staying all night. 

I also want to point out a distinction between the Marquee case study and the night clubs in Taipei. New York clubs, like the Marquee, charge between 10-20USD for a single drink, and there is some profit made from the filler crowd, especially compared to the nightclubs in Taipei that offer unlimited drinks, most-likely making much less profit than New York clubs. Yet, these clubs still are able to maintain their business for long periods of time, therefore supporting the idea that the majority of profit comes from bottle service customers. 

Overall, nightclubs in Taipei may seem to not be making much profit from the perspective of the common club-goer, but in reality, rely on high-end bottle service clients for a majority of their revenue. The common club-goer is the filler crowd, an investment to attract the high-end bottle service clients. Despite the high costs of running a night-club, the revenue created by these high-end clients results in enough profit to keep these clubs sustainable long-term. 

Resources:

Club A: https://www.instagram.com/wave_taipei/?hl=en 

Club E: https://www.instagram.com/ruff.taipei/ 

Club H: https://www.instagram.com/ai.nightclub/?hl=en 

Marquee HBS Case Study: https://thegetwell.co/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Marquee-Harvard-Business-School-Case-Study.pdf

[mudaship39]

Character bio of the Asian Pasifika demigod and Afro Latine Native alien hybrid superhero main character part 4

Wrist Mounted Arm Computer:

Attached to their left arm is a human and alien magical  and technological mechanical portable wrist computer. It is a personal information processor that is powered by steam, gas, & or electricity. It has knobs, dials, buttons, & switches on the top, bottom, left, & right sides for accessibility. It comes with a red, blue, green, silver, or gold light. It comes with a keyboard. Can function as any number of useful tools. Wrist computer uses include data storage, inventory management, topographical mapping, assisted targeting, medical diagnostics, radio receiver, video player, music player, and portable gaming console, a communicator, a light, a scanner, a smart phone, a smart watch, a portable computer, etc. 

It lets him/her/them stay in contact with their handlers and allies. It gives him/her/them mission-specific information. Including where weapon caches are. It keeps track of their credentials. Is also a handheld personal force shield generator. It has crime databases, wiretapping, evidence analysis, a lie detector, and monitors its wearer's heartbeat, blood pressure, & blood sugar to ensure that its use was authorized and to send help if the user is healthy or is in trouble. Can project 3d and 4d holograms. It provides internet access and cellular reception with clear reception and unlimited data anywhere on Earth. 

Has clear reception and cellular reception in terraformed and colonized planets, moons, comets, asteroids, & planetoids star systems and galaxies of the multiverse. It uses nanotechnology to physically reconfigure itself to prevent hacking. It also has GPS functionality. Has a hacking tool. Has a compact first aid kit. Is a wearable computer. Has an interface is a holographic 3d wrist-mounted computer complete with a miniature 4d holographic projector. 

The wrist communicator is based on an alien memory metal so when they take it off it can flex into a tablet shape. Can hack computers, machines, phones, tablets, robots, & artificial intelligences. It can dispense first-aid, repair and customize equipment, and send and receive phone calls. It can record audio sound and visual video footage for later playback. Using a simple but elegant form of sonar and satellite tracking this wrist mounted computer can map out areas where its user travels. 

It acts as a database for the wearer’s personal information and inventory. It is capable of tracking the wearer’s status and organizes the user’s inventory of apparel, junk, weapons, misc, armor, mods, aid, items, & equipment. An overlay of the data is also available. In addition, the device features a built-in radio module. It has an advanced compass. 

It has a virtual 3d and 4d map that displays discovered locations. It has a holographic map projector which shows a complete 3D or 4D scan of an area. It has a sonar and motion sensor system that highlights nearby allies, enemies, people, animals, beasts, creatures, and monsters. It is a communicator, a map, a flashlight, a compass, a scanner, a music player, a smart watch, & a portable computer.

It has lighting functionality. A holographic player, video tape, CD player, & DVD player is mounted beneath the display. It is capable of keeping tabs on the user’s health condition, ammo, weapons, armor, apparel, & food and water. It shows the user’s health bar as red, yellow, orange, & green. It has a blue, pink, and purple heath bar system to show laser, plasma, & hard light shields and force fields. It has a silver, gold, & obsidian health bar system to show combat armor, power armor, & mech suit armor condition. 

The wrist computer gauntlet’s uses include but are not limited to data storage, inventory management, topographical mapping, assisted targeting, telephone, medical diagnostics, computer, radio receiver, telegram, hacking, music (CD) player, & Video (Video and DVD) Player . It can map out areas. It can take and store notes and memos. It has a built-in radio. It has a geiger counter and toxic gauge for radiation, toxins, & poisons. It has a built-in flash light used to illuminate dark areas. 

It needs to be worn as a gauntlet which seals with a biometric lock. It utilizes a revamped 3d or 4d holographic display interface with animated images. It automatically updates using satellites. Additionally, it integrates with the onboard computers of power armor and mech suits allowing a user to access their wrist mounted computer from within the armor via a HUD visor display. The inventory menu is a system used for viewing and managing collected items. The menu also displays total currency and carry weight on the screen. 

It is sorted into several tabs. Weapons, Apparel, Aid, Misc, Junk, Mods, Ammo, & Money. All guns, melee weapons, grenades, and mines fall in this tab. Specs of weapons can be viewed and compared as well as equipped and unequipped weapons.  It shows their attachments such as silencers or suppressors, compensators or muzzles, grips, flashlights, scopes, red dot sight, red laser sight, or grenade launcher. Shows the damage effect it has on enemies. It shows the weapon’s stats such as range, damage, etc. It shows the weapons condition and shows if it is in need of maintenance and repair. 

All armor and clothing appear in this tab. Specs of armor and clothing can be viewed and compared as well as equipped and unequipped apparel.  All aid such as medicines, drugs, food, and drinks are sorted here and can be used and consumed in this tab. Miscellaneous items such as keys, cds, dvds, holographic tapes, notes, and items which fall under no other category are in this tab. Mod tab for weapon and armor modifications. Ammo lists all types of ammunition for guns, grenades, & mines currently in inventory. Currency shows all dollars and copper, bronze, brass, silver, gold, & platinum coins, cash, and credits. 

A unique feature of the Mark 20 Wrist Computer is an adapter plug attached to the underside of the device. This plug is used to perform diagnostics on power armor and mech suits. It can hack into computers. It has a lockpick module to pick the locks of doors, safes, etc. In addition, the plug is also used to gain control of robots, androids, artificial intelligences, automatons, mech suits. When wearing a power armor or mech suit the user does not interact with the wrist computer directly. Instead all the information is displayed through the suit’s integrated HUD but with a different HUD color. 

This implies that the Mark 20 is capable of interfacing with power armor or mech suits onboard systems to allow access to its functionality without having to directly operate the device. It is a wrist gauntlet, wrist bracer or wrist computer. It is a piece of wrist-worn technology. It houses several technologically advanced features.  The wrist gauntlet is a small computer device worn on the wrist and features numerous controls for various items of human and alien magic and technology. It has a digitized display. The gauntlet is linked directly into a metahuman and superhuman humanoid’s combat armor, combat helmet, power armor, power armor helmet, & mecha suit and governs many of their functions. 

The gauntlet also acts as a power source for these tools although it has only limited capacity and would become depleted with repeated use. However, despite the clearly advanced nature of the technology involved, the wrist gauntlet can be recharged from any common power source such as gas, steam, water, nuclear power, & electricity.  

The mark 20 is the most customizable model made. It was the epitome of technology. Each instrument is individually crafted and personally attuned to its recipient. The device is so personalized to its user that it could continuously monitor and report the vital signs of its assigned wearer in real time. It was the quintessential personal data assistant complete with a magical AI modeled after a female humanoid alien and female human. Complete with its own mapping system, navigation system, radio receiver, computer, video and music player, cellphone, & personal inventory tracking software. It’s a souped-up PDA complete with DNA biometric lock.

[smartsafetyindia]

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[istorkyou]

A Thousand Battles (A Modern!Ivar AU)

A modern!Ivar x F OC (Julietta Lothbrok)

Warnings - NSFW, MINORS DNI. Language. Slight violence.

Synopsis - Julietta wakes up with no memory of her life or her husband, Ivar. Will it ever return? Does she want it to?

Word Count - 4333

This is for @blackseapearl 400 follower trope challenge. I asked for Amnesia :)

Shout Outs - A massive shout out to @blackseapearl and @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for beta reading, ironing out all the mistakes and the motivation to keep going with it. Special hugs to @blackseapearl for talking through the ending with me and giving me some much needed inspiration and the wonderful moodboard.

This fic kicked (and is still kicking!) my ass, I’ve never had such a hard time with motivation as I have writing this long-ass bitch so I hope you enjoy it :)

It’s also LOOOOOOOONNNGGGGGGGG….. and I’m only the tiniest bit sorry about that!

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @momowhoo​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​​ @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint​​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​​ @serasvictoria​​ @mimiiinspace​​ @itsmysticalmystery​​ @lonewolf471​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​​ @draculasbride-blog​​ @love-all-things-writing​​ @southernbe​​ @redhead7799​​ @kaybee87​​ @ivarlover​​ @ivarhoegh​​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​​ @darkphoenix5037​​ @profoundtyrantharmony​​ @snarling-through-our-smiles​​ @crazyunsexycool​​ @xceafh​​ @bragisrunes​​@noway4u @batmandallyboy​​ @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73​​​​ @meandmycherrytree

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

CHAPTER 9

The rigmarole of getting through the security of the Gala sets Ivar off, especially when Julietta sets off the metal detector arch and is taken aside to be searched.

“No one touches her,” Ivar warns the security guards menacingly as he steps in front of her, pushing her behind him protectively. “Keep your fucking hands off my wife. She has surgical pins in her arms and that is setting them off.

“Sir, we cannot allow entry unless she is properly searched and we are satisfied there are no weapons about her person. Please do not obstruct us.”

“Get a hand held metal detector and wave it over her. The only part of her that will make it beep is her upper right arm which is held together by pins because of a car accident.”

She raises onto her tiptoes and places her lips by his ears and whispers, “Let them do it, I’m not bothered and it’s protocol. I’m no different to anyone else. Okay?” He turns his face towards her, deciding what to do, and when she gives him an encouraging nod he turns back to the security team

“Touch her inappropriately and you die.”

The guard nods tersely and sweeps his hands over her body. He then gets the handheld metal detector and what happens is exactly what Ivar described, beeping over the scar tissue set off by the pins under the skin.

“Ok, ma’am. You may go in. Thank you for your compliance.”

Ivar's arm encircles her waist as he guides her into the great hall, but not before making a note of the guard's name tag

In the banquet hall they find the rest of the family and Ivar hands her a glass of champagne. “To us,” he holds his out and she toasts with him.

“To us.” She takes a sip and looks around the party. There are clear factions, groups clustered together, eyes sweeping the other, surveying the attendees, marking up the enemies in the room.

Ragnar approaches her. “Things will be less tense once the alcohol flows later. I know the atmosphere is crackling right now, Julietta but don’t worry. Is this helping your memory? Do you recognise anyone?”

“Have I been here before? How would I recognise anyone if I haven’t?” she questions and catches the tiniest squint of Ragnar's eyes.

An hour later and Ragnar was right, the atmosphere has changed, still charged but less segregation of the groups, meaning business is being spoken about, deals being made. She is surveying the room when she feels Ivar close behind her, his breath in her hair, his hand grips her waist. “Hello beautiful. Dance?”

“You want to dance here?” she asks with an amused voice.

“I want to dance with you anywhere. Come on, baby.” He grabs her hand and leads her to the dance floor, into the crowd of other couples dancing closely.He pulls her against him, his right to him wrapped around her waist. He sighs happily and she relaxes into him.

“You look so sexy in that dress I can’t wait to get you home later.” He places a small kiss on her exposed shoulder

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do to me later, Ivar?” she asks, letting a hand touch his chest and slowly move it down to stop on his stomach. “Describe it to me.” She enjoys the way his cheeks colour a little. “I know what I want you to do to me.” Her voice is low and sultry.

He moves his face to her ear and whispers, “I am going to make you cum more times than I ever have before. I won’t stop until you can’t take it anymore and you are begging me to stop. How does that sound?” He slides his cheek across hers and kisses her

“That sounds very good,” she replies breathlessly, “let’s go home now!” He throws his head back, laughing at her enthusiasm.

“As soon as we can, love.”

When the song finishes they head back to the family, and soon Ivar is approached by Ubbe, who whispers in his ear. His eyes flit to her and he nods once, taking the few steps that closes the gap between them.

“Baby, I have to go and speak with someone. I’m sorry, I’m needed.” He can see the apprehension in her eyes so he cups her face.

“You said you wouldn’t leave me tonight,” she says petulantly, but she’s covering her feelings of dread at being left alone. She hasn’t seen the stranger from the alley yet but she assumes he is here somewhere and it makes her grip her husband's hand harder.

“I’m sorry, I will be as quick as I can. Stay here with my father, okay? You will be safe with him.”

“Ivar, you said you wouldn’t leave me. You promised.” She repeats.

He kisses her hand. “I won’t be long.” And he leaves. Julietta watches him walk away with a nervous feeling building within her. She’s never been exposed to his business before and strangely, for the first time she’s considering how dangerous it must be for him. Her heartbeat picks up and she wants to run to him to stop him putting himself in harm's way

Her thoughts are interrupted by a quick tap on her shoulder and turns round expecting to see Ragnar's eyes but instead of the crystal blue ones she is looking into the chocolate brown eyes of a man. A tall man with a scar through his right eyebrow and stubble covering his tanned skin.

It’s Lev.

She works her hardest to control her facial expression, her breathing, and fights the urge to run

“Can I help you?” she asks, a tremble in her voice. What is he going to say to her? She glances to the left and sees Ragnar eyeballing the pair of them, clearly gauging her reaction to the stranger.

Lev looks pissed at her, eyebrows drawn together in a deep scowl. “I would like to dance with you.”

She lets out a relieved, high pitched giggle. He doesn’t seem to be there to expose her. She shakes her head and her hand flies to the necklace Ivar gave her earlier.

“I can’t dance with you. I'm a married woman,” she tells him indignantly, looking him up and down.

He raises his eyebrows at her. “Your husband is an insecure man? Doesn’t trust his wife?” His head tips slightly and he smiles menacingly.

His sick little game bursts the calm bubble she is trying to exist in. She looks at him up and down, the man who claims to love her, to know her, but for whom she feels nothing but contempt.

“He’s not insecure at all and he has absolutely no reason to distrust me. It’s inappropriate for me to dance with a stranger,” she snaps at him. Julietta feels hand run up her arm and she closes her eyes, assuming Ivar has returned and for a split second she feels calm again before realising it is Ragnar.

“I do not think my son would mind at all if you had an innocent dance with….”

“Raphael,” Lev replies in a thick Spanish accent.

“With Raphael. Don’t look so worried Julietta, go and have fun.” Ragnar gives her a little nudge towards Lev

“No,” she replies indignantly. “I don’t want to dance, Ragnar. I will not disrespect Ivar and I think you don’t know your son that well if you think he wouldn’t have a problem with this. I will wait here for my husband.”

Ragnar lets out a patronising chuckle and cocks his head to Lev as if apologising for her insolence.

“Nonsense child, off you go. You don’t want to appear rude to a guest of the Gala, do you?” Ragnar flashes his eyes at her. “I must insist.”

Lev doesn’t wait for her answer, he grabs her hand roughly and guides her to the other side of the dance floor, as far away from the Lothbroks as they can get and pulls her to him so her body is flush with his.

“Hello, Etta. I knew you would come tonight. Your curious little mind couldn't stay away, could it?” His eyes are wandering over her face and neck as if he is about to devour her. “My Gods, I want you so badly. I’ve missed your tight little pussy, your dirty little mouth, fuck, I’m getting hard just looking at you.”

She tries to step away from him, repulsed by his words, by the way he is looking at her, at the realisation that he seems to know her so intimately and yet is a total stranger to her. His fingers dig into her waist as she tries to shift away from him

“Where do you think you are going? Did you find the things in your apartment?” he asks in Russian.

“I didn’t look,” she answers stiffly, hoping he doesn’t know her well enough to know she’s lying.

He is staring at her intently. “Always so adept at lying, you know I didn’t have to teach you that? It came naturally to you. You still have no memory?” She shakes her head, turning her head to look at the family but he grabs her jaw and brings her face to his.

She has her hands over his instantly, before she registers it herself and she is digging her nails into a pressure point on his hand which makes his hand drop quickly and he laughs, stretching out his hand.

“I did teach you that though. Don’t look at them. You keep your eyes on me. Do you know how I feel having to watch you dance with that cripple? Watching you let him touch you, kiss you and whisper God knows what into your ear? How dare you do that in front of me, acting as if you actually love him. You have clearly forgotten what I told you about falling in love with him. And stop speaking to me in English. I taught you Russian, you will speak to me in the mother tongue.”

He spins her around on the dance floor and she catches eyes with Ragnar who is watching them closely. She addresses him in English. “I don’t know what you and I were to each other, before my accident, but you need to understand something. Whatever it was is finished, the affair, whatever it was, is done now. I love Ivar, I don’t know who I was before the accident but this me, the one you keep bothering, wants no part of you. Do you understand me?”

He spins her around again so his back is to Ragnar and then his face toughens, turns nasty. “You were mine! Before all this, you were mine. We were in love for years…and I still love you. My Gods, the things we used to do together! You may be married to that cripple but you are mine Etta. My warrior, my fighter, my love. You will remember it’s an assignment and when you do you will run back to me.” He pulls her tight to him again and he moves his head like he is about to kiss her so she shakes his arms off her.

“Assignment? What are you talking about? I don’t believe anything you say,” she hisses in Russian, surprising herself.

“Julietta!” Ivar’s voice shouts behind her far enough away she knows he didn’t hear her speaking Russian. “What is going on here?” He pulls her behind him and faces Lev, who is somehow managing to keep his face neutral despite the hatred she knows he feels towards Ivar

“I wanted to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room, nothing more, nothing less.” Lev has switched back to his fake Spanish accent.

Ivar looks him up and down with disgust. “You make a habit of putting your hands all over married women? You are lucky this evening is a safe haven or I would have put a bullet between your eyes before you even knew I was here. Do you know who I am?”

Lev smirks and replies simply, “yes. You are Ivar Lothbrok.”

“Then you must have a death wish asking my wife to dance with you. We will catch up soon, you and I, in a setting that is much less favourable to you and your disrespect.” Ivar turns to Julietta, sneering and grabbing her hand harshly. He doesn’t say a word, he just walks her briskly back to the family.

“We are leaving,” Ivar announces

Ragnar is still looking at Lev, who, in turn, is watching Ivar and Julietta.

Ivar tries to contain his rage but he doesn’t succeed. He grabs her upper arm and pulls her into him so he can talk quietly to her. “Why the fuck did you dance with him? You’ve humiliated me in front of everyone.”

Before she gets a chance to reply Ragnar interrupts. “Ivar, I gave the okay. That man seems quite besotted with your beautiful wife, didn’t he Julietta? Who is he my dear?” Ragnar questions her with a look of menace and distrust on his face.

Something inside her kicks into gear, she addresses her father in law with an annoyed and covering tone. “Oh you think I know who he is? Very funny Ragnar, I know no one on this fucking Earth apart from your family!” She points her finger at him accusingly. “Don’t put this on me, I told you Ivar wouldn’t like it, didn’t I?” She looks Ragnar up and down in contempt and a rage fills her whole body in a way she’s never felt before.

In her head she watches herself throw her arm around Ragnar's neck and snap it, hear his last breath, see his life force leave. Her conscious mind feels sick at the images playing out.

Ragnar just watches her, as if he can see her thoughts, feel them. A satisfied smile creeps over his face.

Ivar looks between them. “Let’s go. I’m done with this night.” Ivar grips her arm and they leave the Gala, not noticing Lev's gaze following them.

In the car on the way home they are both silent but the tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife. The silence gives her a chance to process what Lev told her. They were in love, before she met Ivar. He referred to Ivar as an ‘assignment’ again

Her ability to speak Russian, an assignment? Surely it can’t mean what she thinks it means… she needs to look at the stuff she found in her apartment. She could be a….

“So. You think it’s appropriate to humiliate me in company? In front of our allies and rivals? To dance with another man?” Ivar’s voice trembles with rage, his knuckles white with the force he is gripping his crutch, but his face is still turned towards the window. “I’m a joke to you?”

“Ivar, please. You know you aren’t a joke, I love you…”

His gaze turns to her. “You fucking love me but you allow another man get close to you?” His eyes travel up and down her with an unmistakable look of disgust.

It flares her anger again. “Your fucking father made me, I said no twice and your father practically pushed me into him! Gods, get a handle on your temper when you are talking to me. I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“I don’t appreciate my wife getting pawed by another man in front of half the city like a common fucking whore.”

Whore.

Whore.

The word bounces around her brain like a ball on a squash court.

Whore. The rage the word ignites in her gut causes her to slap him hard across the face. “Fuck you, Ivar. You are bunch of fucking wolves. All of you! Business was so important that you broke your promise to not leave me alone at the Gala knowing who could have been there! Your father offered me up like a lamb to the slaughter for Gods knows what purpose but I’m fucking sure it was a business one. If you have an issue with me dancing with another man tonight you take it up with your father. He forced me to do it. I told him no but apparently that word isn’t in his vocabulary!” 

Ivar rubs his cheek, clearly in shock at her actions, but she barrels on, undeterred.

“Don’t you ever dare to call me a whore again. You may have a reputation but do not for one second think I’m scared of you or will allow you to speak to me like I’m dirt. Like I’m less of a human than you. Fucking whore??

She stares at him, waiting for his reply but it doesn’t come. He just continues to hold his face and stare at her dumbfounded, so she rips her chin high and spends the rest of the ride home watching the city get smaller, biting back tears she sure as shit will not allow to fall now. In front of him.

------------------------------------

Ivar doesn’t get out at their house, he doesn’t say a word, she just watches the car drive towards the main house so she assumes he is staying there for the night.

Entering their house and runs to her closet, heart beating so hard from the adrenaline that she thinks it might tear through her skin. Julietta finally takes out the notebook and the phone from the hiding place. Unsurprisingly the phone is dead and she doesn’t want to risk plugging it in to charge out in case Ivar comes back tonight.

She looks first at the notebook she found hidden under her mattress. Pages and pages of nonsense, written not in English or Russian as she expected, but what seems like a code, she only recognised the dates in the corners of the pages, starting from 2012, the year she met Ivar. She scouts every page for the key but doesn’t find one. She throws it down in frustration and picks up the notebook that Lev knew about. Inside it is full of Russian writing, at least she can read that. It’s pages of dates, times, locations, names of people and companies. Each page is dated and they start from before she moved onto the estate, before the accident. She flips through all the pages and around a year in the page dates are getting longer apart, not days now, weeks sometimes months and when they are entries the information on them are less detailed. No more names, fewer locations. After their wedding date there are only two more entries.

She keeps flicking through hoping to find help to decipher the other notebook but nothing.

Her breathing has calmed now, her heartbeat raised but less so. She takes the notebook with the Russian writing and tucks it into her dress, she stashes the other notebook back in its hiding spot along with the phone.

Her feet carry her outside and she turns on the fire pit as her brain tries to offer up any alternative reasonable conclusion than the one she has already come to.

She was leaking information to Lev and whoever the fuck he works for. Who she worked for. Her heart breaks at the realisation: she was selling Ivar and his family out.

Why would she do that? To what end?

She turns the notebook over in her hands and almost throws it into the fire but at the last minute decides against it. If she has to tell Ragnar about herself she will show him what she divulged

She is going to die because of this, the family will kill her. She puts her head in her hands and sobs.

She knows she needs to pull herself together, hide the evidence until she can figure out what she needs to do. How she can handle this new information about herself. She knows she can’t barrel into this, she needs to be smart.

-------------------------------------

Ivar waits in his father's office. Drinking more of the expensive whisky in the crystal decanter than he should, certainly more than he should if he wants to feel half decent in the morning.

He hears Ragnar and Aslaug come home an hour later and he hauls himself to the office door and waits for his father to see him.

“Ah Ivar, I thought you would be here.” He turns to Aslaug. “I will be with you after I have spoken to our son.”

“Ivar, just hear your father out,” Aslaug pleads but Ivar doesn’t reply, he turns back into the office and drops into the chair opposite his father's desk. When Ragnar shuts the door Ivar explodes.

“You made her dance with him! Did you enjoy my humiliation, father? Revel in my shame? In front of the whole fucking city? I fucking hate you!” Ivar continues to scream at his father until his throat grows hoarse whilst Ragnar sits calmly and takes it all. When Ivar screams himself silent Ragnar holds up his hands.

“Son. There was a reason. That man didn’t take his eyes off your wife all night. He barely contained his anger watching you dance with her. I saw the rage in him when you were kissing her, he started to head towards you but he managed to hold himself back. I asked around to find out who he is, no one knew who he worked for but he had a valid ticket. He knows her, Ivar. Or he used to. I needed to see if she knew him.”

“Of course she doesn’t, she doesn’t know anyone here but us and a handful of people from the gym.”

“I couldn’t read her. I couldn’t tell if she was so uncomfortable dancing with him because he was a stranger or because there is a history. He grabbed her jaw, Ivar. He turned her face away from us when they were talking, that’s not an act one stranger does to another.”

“What fucking history? What are you implying?”

“I don’t know but I know the look of jealousy on a man’s face caused by a woman. He watched her for an hour from the corner. I thought at one point he was going to follow you when you went to talk business but I watched him change his mind. He used your absence as an opportunity to get to her. That’s why I allowed it.

Ivar thinks hard for a few seconds. “Was she looking at him?”“She glanced his way but I couldn’t decipher if it was because of the intensity he was watching her or if she recognised him. Talk to her. You know her the best. Ask her if she knows him, Ivar. I’m either wrong or she’s a very talented liar. I hope it’s the former.”

-------------------------------------

When Ivar gets home he hears the television coming from their bedroom. He walks quietly down the hall and into the bedroom, stopping at the door to the walk in closet. When she spots him he sees her take in a massive breath and when she exhales it seems like all the fight, the resentment at his words and actions goes with it. He can see she’s been crying, her eyes are rimmed red and her eyelids are puffy. As her face breaks and more tears flow she holds her hands out to him and he doesn’t wait even a fraction of a second to go to her, pulling her into his arms.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you by dancing with that man, I didn’t want to, I promise. I’m sorry I slapped you.”

“I’m sorry I called you that name, I won’t ever call you anything like that ever again. I’m sorry I was so mad at you, I was so jealous when I saw him near you. He was looking at you like he was going to kiss you and I just lost it. I’m sorry.”

Julietta reaches behind him and pulls his necklace off the side and shows it to him. “You took it off. You said it was safe at the Gala and you only take this off when it’s dangerous.” He doesn’t reply, just shrugs. “Here, let me put it back on for you.

Her hands snake behind his neck and she looks up into his eyes, which are boring into hers, making her hands wobble as she tries to do up the clasp.

Ivar reaches up as if to stroke her cheek but he actually grabs her face hard and moves close to her, running his nose along hers. “Who is he, Liet?” he says in a sweet voice that doesn’t match his face at all. His face is as dark as the midnight sky.

As her breath catches in her chest things move in slow motion. She feels the necklace slip from her trembling hands, sees the necklace fall from his neck and her eyes follow it as it bounces on the floor.

The familiarity of this situation makes something crack.

Then the floodgates in her brain open.

Memories drowning her, filling her completely, no space left for oxygen even. Snapshot of her life before the accident zooming at her like she is standing in the middle of a motorway, memories hurtling towards her dangerously.

Her parents. Their deaths. Letters. Meeting her real father. Realising what kind of man he is. Meeting Lev. Love with Lev. Training. Her new life. Violence. Meeting Ivar. The circumstances. The wedding. Seeing Lev in secret. Her accident. Seeing who was behind the wheel of the car that hit her.

“Liet! Julietta!” Ivar is shaking her violently, his voice sounds like it’s coming from far away, the blood rushing through her ears is the only thing she can hear properly. Suddenly her vision goes sharp, before the edges get dark, her vision decreasing, slowly being taken over by the blackness until her vision is no more than a pin prick.

Then nothing.

Chapter 10

[unprocione]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ➤  * @stillaware requested a plotted starter!

the residual scent of bleach lingers in the air of the hospital hallways, and his scarce few belongings clink and clatter as he empties his pockets into the plastic tray provided, as leon makes his way through the comprehensive security set-up, shifting his legs shoulder-width apart as they wave the handheld metal detector over the fabric of his slacks, extending one arm, and then the other for the same treatment. leon can barely smother the impatient urge to tap his foot, instead repetitively squeezing his hand into a fist at his side and releasing, as they look over his government identification, and then his a.u.p.i.t. badge. leon startles, reluctantly dragging his eyes away from the curtain-clad sliding glass doors further down the hall ahead, as the woman behind the glass barrier clears her throat and asks him to sign a non-disclosure agreement he doesn't bother to read through for the second time. he knows the drill and gist by now. penning his signature in narrow cursive, piling his keys and wallet and identification cards loosely into his pockets, leon takes the chilled can of V8 in hand he bought directly from the lobby vending machine, and immediately breaks into a brisk walk as they wave him through.

stopping just outside the door, wavering on the threshold, leon pauses, uncertain - how is he going to approach this? what is there for him to even say in the first place? hey, i'm leon kennedy, nice to meet you, so, what was it like being held captive in your own body for four years because i let a renowned and amoral spy escape with apparently a handful of plaga samples? no hard feelings, right? guilt gnaws as he hovers outside of valentine's room, and leon draws a hand over the lower half of his face, scratching at light stubble with blunt nails as he considers a slight hope that maybe, if he was as lucky as everyone kept telling him he was, she would be fast asleep, knocked-out cold, and he could leave a note wishing her well instead of having to conversate face-to-face with her. leon winces visibly at the thought alone, disparaging it immediately. with the immense respect he has for jill in spades, he won't allow his admiration to be outwon by his self-reproach, and if she strangles leon with her iv lines, which he'll probably deserve, he won't go out as a coward, only as an idiot. inhaling, exhaling, biting the bullet, leon knocks twice before turning the handle and stepping in, and he can't hide the way his face drops the instant he sees the state of her, but he tries anyway, a well-practiced debonair half-smile instantly at the edge of his lips, raising a hand in greeting before it drums out a tinny beat on the canned drink he's brought along, sparing an assessing glass to the vitals monitor to the side of the bed, and then back to her.

❝ hey there, i'm leon, i wrote the kennedy report, about the plaga? i wanted to stop by, see if they were looking after you alright.. ❞ leon pauses, mouth partially open as he glances at her monitor again, back to her, and to the monitor again, concern flickering across his features. quiet for a spell of seconds, leon closes his mouth, internally settled on a new approach, with a matter of fact click of his tongue in a well, shit manner. he turns away, abruptly taking a chair from his side of the room, and placing it backwards near the end of her bed, leon swinging a leg over and straddling his seat with his arms braced over the back. wordlessly hooking two fingers in the collar hem of his shirt, leon pulls it down low over his breastbone, bearing the edge of fractals of jutting blackened veins, his skin warped with thick scar tissue, discolored to an amalgamation of dark pink and red splotches. leon's collar hem springs back into place as he lets go, and he scratches at the light stubble on the side of his face again, a nervous tilt present in his smile now. ❝ it's much easier to just show you than explain, sorry, ❞ leon's fingers drum against the back of the chair, the first few beats of journey's wheel in the sky. ❝ i wanted to answer any questions, if you have them? there's.. there's just certain shit that doctor's don't get, and can't understand. i'm a complete stranger, so i get it if you don't want to pass a tissue box back and forth with me, ❞ briefly, leon's boyish smile broadens, only kidding, before it shifts into that light half-smile again. ❝ but if, you change your mind, or something feels wrong, freaks you out, now, later, six years from now, three in the morning, whatever, whenever, i'll be a phone call away. ❞

[dreamsofthejackal]

The ghost werewolf of the stone wind turbine

In a forest far away there is the worlds largest and oldest wind turbine. It is so big that that there is a village on top of it and it is so old that it is built from stone and grass has grown along one of its blades.

I went to visit it with a friend, we were going to do a report on it. Both of us were apprehensive as we both hated heights. Arriving at the base there was an open door in its thick castle-like walls and inside stone stairs that spiralled upwards.

We walked up the first flight of stairs to where there was a window, it had no glass or frame, just a hole in the stone to let the light in. I looked out, my heart sank as I already started feeling uneasy about the height and there was a long long way to go. Once reaching the top the village seemed normal, a pub, a church, a windmill and a few cottages.

We met up with one of the locals and he had something to show us. There was a hole in the ‘ground’ that had been dug. We were invited into the hole and the local man took a small handheld pick axe and tapped the stone floor of the hole. A piece of mortar popped through and sunlight beamed in. Looking through the hole I could see the ground hundreds of meters below and the sudden realisation that I was standing on a thin stone floor with nothing beneath me sent a shiver up my spine. That was it, there was no longer any need to be up there, we can interview the locals at the base of the turbine where it’s safe.

Once at the bottom of the structure my colleague found the piece of mortar that had been poked out to form the hole, I wasn’t impressed. We got talking about the history of the wind turbine and the village and one of the locals mentioned the ghosts. I questioned her more about it and she took out her phone to show me some of the videos. Each video I was quickly able to debunk as not being a ghost. Like the man in the orange jacket who fell behind someone only to disappear and then be replaced by a different ghost in a yellow jacked. I pointed out that you can see in the video that the jacket is reversible, orange on one side and yellow the other.

“What about the werewolf then?” The local girl said to me.

“What werewolf?” I replied, highly skeptical about whatever evidence I was about to be presented with. She showed me multiple videos of a large shadow-like figure, tall and broad appearing and disappearing in a way that my brain couldn’t comprehend. I was scared again, a creepy feeling crawling up my spine. As I watched the videos the girl explained that he takes supplies from the village. What sort of supplies I asked and she said they seemed to be supplies for a child so they didn’t try and stop the ghost werewolf.

We decided to stay to see if we could catch a glimpse of the werewolf for ourselves. It wasn’t long before we saw something moving in the tree line of the forest. It was like you couldn’t see it when looking directly at it but you could see it in your peripheral vision. Feeling exposed I got us to move inside the structure, back to the body of the turbine at to top of the structure.

I waited, knowing that the ghost would have to come through the chamber where I was to get to the village. Someone asked me something, taking my attention away for a moment and when I looked back it was there, standing right in front of me. For the first time my eyes focused on the creature as it solidified before me. It was tall, Broad and mostly humanoid with a seemingly hooded head. I didn’t see it move but somehow it got closer to me. Everything was black on the creature and any detail was caused but differing textures. It raised its head and our eyes connected, the long muzzle and sharp, black, metallic teeth made me understand why they called it a werewolf.

“I need to find my metal detector” I heard it say, but in my mind I could feel other things along with the words. It was a feeling of loss and sadness, a feeling of searching for something in the ground, in the forest. I felt a brain fog lift from my mind while looking at the creature; it’s form now more solid than I’d ever seen it. I could feel in my mind the pieces and understanding fall into place, this was neither a ghost or a werewolf but an entity not from this world, possibly not even from this planet. The creature was a parent, it was lost and trying to find the things it needs to get home. The fear was gone, replaced with a necessity to help.

[ductusau]

Ductus: Understanding Duct Flanges: Essential Guide for HVAC Systems

Duct flanges play a crucial role in heating, ventilation, and air conditioning (HVAC) systems by ensuring secure connections and smooth airflow. Whether you’re a contractor, HVAC technician, or simply someone interested in home improvement, understanding the importance of duct flanges can help in maintaining efficient systems. Here’s a comprehensive look at what duct flanges are and their key benefits.

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A duct flange is a metal rim or edge that helps connect duct sections securely. It acts as a structural joint, allowing for the quick and secure assembly of ductwork, ensuring the HVAC system remains sealed and functions effectively. The flange works with gaskets and fasteners to maintain an airtight seal, preventing energy loss and maintaining the efficiency of the system.

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Why Are Duct Flanges Important?

Duct flanges are more than just simple connectors; they provide significant advantages to HVAC systems. Here’s why they are important:

Enhanced Structural Integrity: Duct flanges add strength to the ductwork. This reinforcement helps prevent the ducts from shifting or coming apart over time.

Airtight Connections: The primary function of a duct flange is to create a tight seal between duct sections. This prevents air leaks, which can lead to energy loss and decreased system efficiency.

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Installation Tips for Duct Flanges

When installing duct flanges, consider these tips to ensure optimal performance:

Clean the Edges: Ensure the ends of the ducts are clean and free from debris. This helps create a stronger seal.

Use Gaskets: Always include gaskets to enhance the airtight seal. Gaskets prevent air leaks and improve overall efficiency.

Align Properly: Make sure the flanges align correctly before securing them. Misalignment can lead to air gaps and reduced performance.

Tighten Evenly: When fastening the flanges, tighten the screws or clamps evenly to distribute pressure uniformly across the joint.

Check for Leaks: After installation, inspect the connection for any air leaks. This can be done using a smoke test or a handheld leak detector.

Benefits of Using Duct Flanges

Reduced Air Loss: Flanges help minimize air loss, ensuring that conditioned air reaches its intended destination without unnecessary waste.

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Final Thoughts

Duct flanges are an essential part of any HVAC system, contributing to efficiency, safety, and ease of maintenance. By providing strong, airtight connections, they ensure that your system runs smoothly and effectively. Proper selection, installation, and maintenance of duct flanges can significantly enhance the performance of your ductwork and HVAC unit. Whether you’re upgrading an existing system or installing a new one, understanding the value of duct flanges can make a significant difference in the overall outcome.

For More:

Ph: +61 3 9464 1433

Mail id: jim.malek@ductus.com.au

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