#how 1990 was 33 years ago

[slut4converse]

Radios in 2050, playing music from the 90s, 2000s, and today

[cerenemuxse]

Human!2x5 getting married HCs

very long.

for age reference, Edward's in his early 40s while James is in his mid-30s (8yr age difference). takes place in future modern day (2030s)

for the ceremony, they wear suits. Edward's is cream white with cerulean and navy accents. James' is like a VERY dark, almost black, navy with red and pink accents.

its a small (as they could get it to be) outdoor spring wedding.

They have matrons of honor AND best person. Edward's maid of Honor is Emily and his best men is BoCo and Duck. James' maid of Honor is Jasmine and he has two best men, Donald and Douglas.

Edward's party consists of all his sisters. that's it lul

James' party consists of Gordon, Henry, and Rosie. it's pretty small lul

ok so- they both walk down the aisles. its a different layout. one walks in from one side while the other walks in from the other, meeting at the center

originally, Edward was a little embarrassed by the idea, but he arrives at his aisle on Callum, his (2nd) Clydesdale horse. It was James' idea. That's why its outdoors HEHE

"what's their wedding so-" THIS

(piano for James and violin for Edward)

Edward cut off contact with his parents after they kicked him out so his twin sisters are the ones walking him down the isle.

Doesn't really have a dad (Emily's parents divorced shortly after he was adopted) so Mama Sterling walks him down the aisle, along with Jasmine <33

THE RING BEARERS ARE JACQUELINE AND THOMAS WITH THE (SOON TO BE) FAMILY CAT, SOPHIE 💥

For the wedding reception, they basically swap color schemes, wearing each other's colors ✨ they wear weddings veils covered in flowers designated (so Ed's are for himself and the same goes for James), but both have white roses. (i wanna design these and their ceremony suits someday 👉👈)

Both floral schemes share daisies (loyal love).

Edward's floral scheme is chamomile (patience) and delphinium (big-heartedness + ardent attachment).

James' floral scheme is amaryllis (splendid beauty, pride, worth beyond beauty) and gladiolus (strength of character, faithfulness, and honor).

newlyweds' first dance was this. a fast paced dance to get them going for the night 💃💃 this was one where others were allowed to join in.

The playlist is a mix of 1970s-2000s and jazz. The jazz was for some of the elderly folk (and James, my beloved jazz enjoyer).

slow dances were occasionally thrown in so they could rest. Edward's leg injury from years ago got the best of him in recent years so now he has a cane. helpful when his injury starts to tire him out. speaking of which, it was decorated for the occasion, covered in vines (made of wire) and fake flowers

since the parent situation is mixed with both of them, its more like a group dance. Edward dances with his sisters while James dances with his family, adopted and bio. (Emily, Mama Sterling, Donald, Douglas, and Jasmine.) the more elegant of all the dances that night

then comes in the "father-child" dances. (try not to cry challenge: impossible)

it was chaotic. they were playing something from like the 1990s to 2000s. probably fucking Backstreet Boys or something, idk but that's the idea.

father-child(ren) dance took them out for a bit. they were also wearing heels. low heels but still enough.

both kept laughing as they tried to feed each other cake so they smudge some of it on each other.

the photographs are like those photos in dark places and the only lighting you get is from the camera's flash. it was all Polaroids, btw. James and Edward would later scrapbook them <3

the speechs were held for the end as that's when the energy is low and there would be less interruptions, considering who was present (a bunch of loud teens LMAO)

everyone cried and laughed at least once.

donald and douglas was pretty cheesy. teased James for a bit but ended it with a loving note about how happy they are their little adopted brother. Had james in tears.

Jasmine followed right after. she was happy to have been able to reconnect with her younger brother after decades of being separated

Jacqueline's really was the kicker for him though. (TLDR: these two have been attached ever since James adopted her after watching her during a foster care program. she was around 7 when adopted, an age that most people would avoid when adopting.)

Henry and Gordon's was similar (context: they met in HS at music competitions. Henry is Gordon's half-brother, attending the same school. James attended their rival school and the rest is history). Teased him but ended on an unusual heartfelt note.

Edward did not escape the flood of tears. His adopted kids, Thomas, Percy, and Nia, did their speech together, followed by his sisters, BoCo, and Duck. was a crying mess (in a good way) from the start.

Emily ends the speeches by telling how they all met, and the "everyone but you two knew that you crushed on each other" story of those two from her perspective. had everyone laughing, including those two.

James was the one to throw the bouquet but like tradition, both he and Edward didn't look over to who it was. he might've accidentally smacked Gordon with it, who was dating Rebecca at the time. BOY did James and Edward have a field day over that HAHA-!

once its over, they clean up and go home, both of them taking Callum back to McColls (that's where Callum is homed since Ed and Jim live in apartments. planning to move out into a house in Wellsworth tho). they planned their honeymoon to be a few days later so they could rest from the thrilling but exhausting day they had. they emotionally (/pos) and physically tuckered out from the event haha-

knocked the fuck out once they got home, crashing onto the sofa.

and now they're husbands <33

[liyatime]

💭 . . . " THE ' OLDEN DAYS " . . 📦 .

📦 pairing ; non idol au ! yang jeongin x male reader

📦 genre ; angst

📦 cw ; death , cursing , jeongin was born in 1990 , jeongin is 33 (in 2023)

📦 music ; “in a good way” - faye webster “good looking” - suki waterhouse

the pattering of bare feet could be heard across the hard wooden floors of jeongin's house as he was sitting on the couch of his living room watching tv and sipping coffee from his white mug in his pajamas.

“dad ! dad !” two loud voices called. jeongin perked up , turning his attention to his 2 twin daughters , chae-yeon and chae-young , they had his black (?) hair and brown eyes. they ran into the living room with an old photo album , sitting in front of their father. “not so loud.. you'll wake your mother.” he scolded. “alright,” chae-yeon started , “but dad , we found your old photo book!” she said , holding up a page full of old memories. jeongin put down his coffee mug and took the book as the girls sat beside him on the couch with huge smiles. “wah.. this was so long ago..” jeongin said , running his hand over the plastic protecting the images and polaroids.

he flipped through the pages , reliving every memory he had. “this is when me and your mom were in college—” “this was our first date—” “this was during our school festival—” jeongin went on and on about his younger days , eventually flipping on a page that was full of polaroids and camera printed images of him and his old friends.

“this was in college too.” said , "isn't that uncle minho?" chae-young said , pointing to a picture of her father and minho , “yes.. this was when i was in my early twenties! me , uncle minho , and uncle jisung used to hang out by the han river in hangang park nearly everyday after school.” jeongin said , a big smile on his face.

“dad ,” chae-yeon said , “who's this?” she said , pointing at a picture of jeongin and a man with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes. “that's.. an old friend.” he said in a lower voice , his smile got smaller each second he looked at the picture. “why don't we see him?” chae-young asked , an unknowing smile on her face as she looked at multiple pictures of the man and her father , "yeah , you guys have a lot of pictures together!" chae-yeon added. “he moved away.” jeongin said with a nervous smile. “aww.. he's so handsome too!” chae-yeon said , her sister swatting her in the back of her head. “ah! what!?” she whined , rubbing the back of her head , “he's dad's age now! that's disgusting!” chae-young said, chae-yeon pouted and stayed quiet.

“anyways dad , how'd you meet him?” chae-young asked. “we went to the same highschool , but i met him at uncle changbin's father's ramyeon shop.” jeongin answered , putting the photo album on the table and sitting back on the couch. “what year was it? 2007? yeah , in 2007 i met him at the ramyeon shop , we were both 17.” “what's his name?” chae-yeon asked , “(m/n).” jeongin said “uncle (m/n)~” chae-young sang , flipping through more of their pictures , “more like oppa (m/n)~” chae-yeon said , chae-young held her fist up and sucked her teeth. “ah , why!” chae-yeon said , pouting again and holding her legs up to her chest. the girls settled down and jeongin laughed before continuing his story.

“when we were in mr. seo's ramyeon shop , we ordered the same thing at the same time , how cliche is that?” jeongin said , “like a k-drama!” chae-yeon exclaimed , “yes, like a drama.. after that we sat down together and talked for a while , not about much , just introduced ourselves and exchanged numbers.” jeongin added , reminiscing.

—

jeongin was outside of mr. seo's ramyeon shop , awkwardly standing there in his SOPA uniform , one hand was on the strap of his backpack and the other holding onto his iphone 1. he was constantly checking the time , his friend minho was supposed to show up 6 minutes ago but he never came. jeongin was a shy person , an introvert , so minho was always with him , he was his voice when he couldn't speak for himself.

after 2 more minutes of waiting for minho , jeongin decided to just go in the shop , order his own food , and wait for minho to get there. when he walked up to the front counter a boy walked on the side of him , jeongin didn't think much of it , so he just told the cashier his order ,

“can i get one bowl of ramyeon?—”

“can i get one bowl of ramyeon?”

the two boys stood there looking at each other awkwardly , and the cashier got confused and put the orders in the same order , thinking they were together (not like that). “ please take a seat at table #4, we'll bring your food to you.” the cashier said , pointing at the table. “ah— wait..” jeongin said in a low voice , the cashier had walked away for a moment to handle some business and the two boys were left there dumbfounded.

the boy was the first to move to table #4 , and jeongin followed soon after. they sat at the table in silence until jeongin spoke up , “im yang jeongin..” he said , playing with his hands under the table nervously. “i'm (l/n) (m/n) , how old are you?” jeongin was taken aback by the question but answered nevertheless , “17—” “i'm older than you!” (m/n) exclaimed with a huge smile on his face , “ah.. sorry for speaking informally..” jeongin said , bowing. (m/n) stretched over the table and put his hand on jeongin's shoulder , “it's fine! let's speak casually.” he said.

the boys went on to talk for a whole hour until jeongin's phone buzzed , he took it out his pocket and looked at it while slurping his noodles.

( "minho" "I'm sorry, Jeongin. I can't go to the ramen shop today.. OTL" )

jeongin sighed , putting his phone back in his pocket and standing up from his seat and leaving money on the table for the bill , “hm? where are you going?” (m/n) asked , also standing up. “oh , i have to go.. i was supposed to be here with a friend but he bailed , i might as well go home now.” jeongin said , giving a sad smile. he picked up his backpack from the seat next to him , putting it on his back , “bye (m/n)—” “wait!” (m/n) interrupted , “my number.. put it in your phone later , and call me when you get lonely.” he insisted, holding out a piece of paper with his phone number on it , smiling . “sure.. seeya (m/n).” jeongin said , taking the slip of paper and walking out the restaurant, waving towards (m/n).

(m/n) sat back in his chair , breathing in and out while clutching his shirt. “shit.. he was cute.” he said , getting back up and leaving the shop , but not before bowing towards the staff.

from then on , jeongin and (m/n) met up from time to time , and from time to time turned into every day after school. they hung out at night usually , grabbing snacks from a convenience store and sitting on a park bench to eat it to making out in (m/n)'s car in the middle of the woods.

(m/n) really brought jeongin out of his shell , he became more sociable and could speak up for himself more than before. no matter how many friends jeongin had , (m/n) was always his special someone. but of course— jeongin couldn't tell his kids this , they promised to tell nobody , it was their little secret.

—

“so— he was your best friend?” chae-young asked , “yeah , essentially.” jeongin said. his eyes glanced at the clock above the tv and he got off the couch , “girls , it's past bedtime , put the photobook up and head to bed , alright?” he said , walking into him and his wife's room. “yes!” the girls shouted , running off.

jeongin's wife was already fast asleep , so he just crawled into bed , pulling the covers up and laying on his side , staring into the white wall in front of him. it was quiet and jeongin didn't like it , so he closed his eyes and stayed as still as possible , letting his consciousness send him to sleep.

—

(m/n) and jeongin were sitting in his bed at his housde , holding each other's hands as they made out , tongues gliding against each other. jeongin started to take off his shirt and (m/n) took notice , helping him take it off. this continued for a while , the intimacy was overwhelming.

“boys! would you like som— MY GOD!” (m/n)'s mother opened the door , she was holding a tray of juice and a plate of cookies but it crashed to the ground. the boys turned their head to the door , and everyone was frozen in place. jeongin with his shirt off , (m/n) helping him , and (m/n)'s mother at the door frame , holding her hands to her mouth in shock.

she slammed the door shut and (m/n) threw himself off the bed and out the door , chasing after his mother. jeongin sat still on the bed , quietly collected his shirt and backpack , put them on and made his way out of the room. (m/n) and his mother were arguing , she was screaming at him and he was stuttering trying to explain himself. jeongin walked up to them and bowed at (m/n)'s mother before exiting the house , making his way to his home , embarrassed at the situation. he had no intentions of going back to (m/n)'s house after that embarrassment. (m/n) called his name from his house but jeongin was already halfway down the street at that point , he didn't turn to call back or walk back.

(m/n) and jeongin stopped seeing each other for a couple days until jeongin texted him , asking him to meet up at hangang park. when (m/n) made it there , jeongin was sitting on a bench , drinking a can of coffee that he got from a vending machine. (m/n) sat beside him and sat there quietly , looking at the atmosphere , the dogs , children playing and families in picnic's. “sorry.” he said , jeongin turning to him. “it's alright , i just left 'cause i was embarrassed.” (m/n) nodded. it was awkward. “i dont think i'll be going to your house again.. but your welcome to come to mine.” jeongin said , taking a swig from his coffee. “thanks.” (m/n) replied.

the couple shared happiness and more through their adolescent years , kisses , hugs , and bowls of ramyeon from mr. seo's shop. they even shared an apartment together. during their first years of college they bought an apartment together with their shared assets. their college days were busy , so busy infact that they stopped seeing each other for days on end to get work done. it caused a split in their relationship and there was no thread left to sow it back together.

it was no surprise that jeongin brought up the idea of breaking up with (m/n) , to which he objected.

(m/n) and jeongin were sitting on a beach , it was dark out and the sea smell filled their lungs. they were sitting side by side , (m/n)'s hand on jeongin's thigh, traveling upwards. "what are you doing.." jeongin asked , scooting. "feeling you up. what's wrong with that? i usually do it—" "not today (m/n)." jeongin interrupted , (m/n) looked at him like he was weird but said nothing. "i think we should take some time off." jeongin blurted. "time off of what?—' "this relationship" he said , (m/n) scrambled to his feet , the sand getting in-between his toes. "for what? were doing just fine!" he exclaimed. "were really not , (m/n)". jeongin said , getting onto his feet and crossing his arms. "we barely see each other , and it's getting uncomfortable living with you. i feel like were strangers." he admitted.

"then we can start seeing each other more!—" "NO!" jeongin hollered. "it's not that simple! that's hard for me (m/n)!" "how is it hard for you!?" they continued to argue , walking all across the beach and even near the sidewalk , (m/n) walked a little too far onto the road , and jeongin started hollering for him to move out of the way. but (m/n) walked with his ears covered and eyes closed like some idiot. "(M/N)! MOVE!" jeongin shouted. (m/n) couldn't hear him and stepped onto the road—

BAM !

—

"(M/N!)" jeongin shouted as he shot up from the bed , panting heavily. his wife awoke and began to ask him what's wrong , comforting him. jeongin pushed her arm away and went to the kitchen for some water. he grabbed a glass and turned on the faucet , letting the water flow into the cup , taking a sip.

jeongin put down his water and leaned against the counter , cupping his face. "fuck.." he said , ruffling his hair and emptying the cup into the drain , putting it into the sink.

he returned back to his bedroom to see his wife already asleep with a worried look on her face , he paid her no mind and just closed the door and got into bed. he laid there staring at the ceiling , listening to the clock from the living room tick.

tick. tick. tick. tick.

jeongin closed his eyes. trying not to let his memories relapse , he just wanted to sleep. to forget about (m/n).. but how could he? it was his fault he was dead. the truck hit (m/n) and it was his fault.

—

it was the day of (m/n)'s funeral , (m/n)'s mother was standing by his portrait , he had many guests coming to visit him. and of course , jeongin was there in his black tuxedo. he paid his respect and left the room quietly , going outside to sit on the steps. after a while of sitting there quietly , (m/n)'s mother came to sit right beside him , jeongin bowed towards her and they began to talk.

"he was a good man.. wasn't he? he was a little pushy but he was a good man.. that damned truck driver.." she said , tears flowing from her (e/c) eyes. jeongin patted her on the back ,

"yeah.. he was a good man."

a/n ; spent 3+ days in this bcuz writing is difficult ! i hope you guys enjoy it !

[cynthiafalvey]

BIOGRAPHY | MUSINGS

character name: cynthia ruth falvey

nickname(s): cynthie, cynth, thia, princess

age & dob: june 9th, 1990 (33)

gender identity & pronouns: female, she/her/hers

sexual orientation & relationship status: bisexual, single

residential area: an apartment downtown

occupation: producer for local colorado commercial video production company

place of birth: cardiff, wales

length of time in providence peak: consistently from 2000-2008, visiting in between, and permanently since july of 2023

faceclaim: lucy hale

FAMILY.

mother: erica falvey (53)

father: rodney falvey (59)

siblings: elijah falvey (41), nikolas falvey (39), reginald 'reggie' falvey (35)

niece: rhiannon falvey (7 months old)

TL;DR.

youngest (and only daughter) of the falvey family, born in cardiff, wales and moving to providence peak at the age of ten. youngest sibling to her very core, and an expert of teetering on the edge of demanding attention when not easily given and knowing just how and when to slip under the radar. moved to new york after high school to attend university, eventually settling into film & television studies. after finishing her masters degree, a personal assistant role to the executive producer of a reality dating show (what the heart wants) turned into the start of her own producing career. worked on several seasons of the show, but the behind the scenes dishonesty and manipulation eventually got to her. after saying no to her boyfriend's proposal and on the verge of a mental breakdown, cynthia quit her job and moved back to providence peak seven months ago under the pretense of it being a temporary stay for her niece's birth, and is currently working a less soul-crushing producer job at a local colorado production company.

BIO.

Cynthia had just turned nine years old by the time she accepted the fact that she would not be getting another sibling to take over the role as youngest in the Falvey family. It was one year more than the gap between her and her eldest brother, and the surpassing of it successfully sealed her fate in the spot she now knows she was always meant to uphold.

Did it stop her from thinking that the sit down conversation her parents had gathered them for shortly before her tenth birthday had been a surprise pregnancy announcement anyways? Unfortunately, it had not, and the actual reasoning for the common room meeting had left very much to be desired, especially when Cynthia’s usual tactic in getting what she wanted (being cute) did not seem to sway her parents on their decision to move them all to Colorado.

Her go to plan B (kicking and screaming like a bat out of hell the whole way until they changed their mind) and C (turning around and boarding a flight back to Wales immediately upon landing) both proved to be busts, but Erika and Rodney weren’t without some tricks of their own.

Who would’ve guessed that all it would take for Cynthia to change her tune was a little promise that she could get her ears pierced once they were settled?

(Or that that had been her longcon all along?)

Ears freshly pierced, there was nothing her first year in the American school system could throw at her that she couldn’t handle. Socially and academically, she excelled and continued to do so all throughout her junior and high school years.

The worst part about being the youngest was by far that unshakeable feeling of being left behind. They’d always been close, but it was watching each of her brothers leave the nest for their respective endeavors, and the combination of losing Eli and Reggie both in the same year to theirs, that really had Cynthia digging her heels in. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, stop them from achieving whatever it was they were searching for away from home, and would be proud of them all the same, no matter what it was, but she’d be damned if they all drifted apart on her watch.

Her own time to fly came at the age of eighteen with an acceptance to NYU. Though tempted to head to the opposite coast of LA to be closer to Elijah, hearing the way he talked of the big city life there, she couldn’t help but want one of her own after practically conquering Providence Peak.

New York was decidedly not Colorado, but Cynthia fell in love with it all the same. There was always something going on, always something to see or do, and the city quickly became her playground while she figured out just what, exactly, she was accumulating all that student debt for.

She eventually settled on Film & Television studies, which no one in her family had to point out wasn’t the practical choice (then again, what was anything any of them did considered practical?), but after shopping a few different majors, it was the first to feel right. Cynthia learned that she thrived in the behind the scenes of tv and filmmaking, several of the projects she worked on over the course of the four years going on to win local festivals and awards, and even a chance to study abroad in London for a semester before her junior year.

It was a no brainer to continue her studies all the way through to her Masters, graduating finally in 2015. Various odd jobs and several internships were held over this course of time, but her big break came in the form of working as the personal assistant to the executive producer of a reality dating show, What the Heart Wants. It wasn’t exactly what she envisioned herself doing in the long term, but an in was an in, and she was going to give it (and her boss, Isabelle Robbins) her all.

And her all she gave, and then some. For years and several seasons of the show, she made sure she was at the top of her game, Isabelle’s right hand man, but still Cynthia felt like she wasn’t any closer to getting a shot at any kind of producer spot. It wasn’t until an off hand comment she made about a lie to feed one of the contestants was put into action and garnered a viral reaction that opened Isabelle’s eyes to just what her assistant might be capable of beyond fetching her coffee.

Her first official producer role for What the Heart Wants was at the age of twenty seven for the show’s fifteenth season, and Cynthia began to build herself a reputation for knowing exactly what to say and do to get the most drama. She couldn’t say that she didn’t like the attention, didn’t like the praise from her boss, or scrolling on Twitter after an episode would air and see the reaction gifs and memes created from the episodes, and she definitely couldn’t say that she didn’t like the travel perks, getting to visit different beautiful locations with each new season, even eventually meeting her long term boyfriend, Jonas, while abroad.

What nobody prepared her for was how much the constant drama would eat at her over the years. By her fifth year and tenth season (including spin-offs), Cynthia was losing her edge, no longer able to stomach the word-twisting and blatant lies, a development that Isabelle was not pleased with, and was constantly breathing down her neck to fix. And yet, her breaking point was when her boyfriend of several years got down on one knee and proposed: what should have been the happiest day of Cynthia’s life, only for her to look the man that she claimed to love all this time in the eye and answer with a resounding no.

The worst part was that she couldn’t even give a reason. She didn’t have one. There had just not been one part of her that’d wanted to say yes, a part of her that’d felt anything at all, really…and that was what scared her the most.

Needing a change and with the excuse of being there for her niece’s birth, Cynthia quit her job and flew back to Providence under the pretense of it being a temporary visit (just until the ink on her new lease had dried). She loved her family and had never been known to shy away from being the topic of discussion amongst them, but the thought of having to explain to them what had happened both with work and with Jonas was too much when she didn’t even know what to say.

For the time being, she applied for and accepted a producer position at a local Colorado commercial video production company, which has somehow already felt more fulfilling in eight months than the several years she spent in reality TV.

Though still battling the shame that came with trying and failing and trying to decide just what comes next, she can’t say she’s not happy to have her family all back in one place again.

HEADCANNONS.

has never known the correct words to any song ever, and this does not stop her from singing along to them anyways (very reminiscent of this tiktok)

could manage to kill even a plastic plant, do not ask her to water yours!!!

peak of her career was when chrissy teigen replied to one of her tweets and claimed to be a big fan of the show (and then when she met her at the 2022 bravocon)

considers her first time at the cheesecake factory a formative experience

self-appointed herself in charge of the family christmas card, and takes the role very seriously. in similar vein, she's also the queen of wrapping presents misleadingly to look like something else entirely

if at a coffee shop/cafe and a chocolate chip cookie is available, she will be participating in one, and thinks it is a perfectly acceptable breakfast, argue with the wall!!!

always has her nails painted, feels naked without at least a simple nude color

her anxiety manifests itself in the form of heartburn, so she eats tums like they're candy

can, but should not for the guaranteed safety of herself and others, drive

is incapable of walking past a claw machine without trying her hand at it (so you could imagine how dangerous it was once they started slapping credit card readers on them things)

what the heart wants actually won an emmy for it's seventeenth season; the statue use to reside on the mantel above her fireplace, but is now currently used as a jewelry stand

thinks she could have definitely held out longer and swindled a puppy out of her parents in exchange for accepting their move to colorado

has considered homicide over nyt connections (colors with their first letters changed??? get fucked), but still completes it, the wordle and the mini crossword every day and sends her scores to the family gc, even if no one else is playing

isn't picky with food and is pretty open minded when it comes to trying new cuisines...which is good because she's not the best cook (not awful but nothing fancy), and orders takeout several nights a week, so she likes that she has options

though finding her place running things behind the scenes, in high school she made herself nice and visible, participating in a slew of extracurricular, such as cheerleading, debate, dance and theater (her role as juliet her sophomore year of high school was truly inspired)

has a small scar on the underside of her chin from when she was eleven and her brothers had picked her up thinking it'd be funny to swing her into the pool, but accidentally dropped her too early and she smacked the edge instead (first trip to providence peak memorial, ayoooo)

currently on a social media cleanse, going as far as removing instagram from her phone entirely (does it stop her from sporadically redownloading it just to make sure she's not missing anything? no)

loves, loves, loves a bubble bath, and spends an excessively unnecessary amount of time in the shower

has a twelve step skincare routine

still has not told anyone in her family the truth behind her breakup and sudden move/job change

CURRENT CONNECTIONS.

younger (and only) sister of @elifalvey & @reggiefalvey

for all intents and purposes @draslihanxfahri-bailey's sister in law

friends who may or may not have kissed last november and are v much not talking about it @fletcher-braley

rite of passage childhood crush on her older brother's best friend @rcmandaniels

keeping the dmv workers who signed off on their licenses up at night, probs/surrogate sister @phoebeyates

friends who smash (broken tvs) @cjwelford

childhood turned awkward friends who drifted apart @theaxharris

blew off some low key noncommittal steam together in new york @dylan-westwick

fast friends who brunch @sarayoon

met and befriended @jacobklee while in new york

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

to be posted: ex-boyfriend, maybe a past contestant/host from the show she worked on (think the bachelor)!

potentially a roommate!

a best friend or two, girl squad (even old besties that drifted?)

childhood/high school/family friends

high school romances/flings

'used to hook up when home for the holidays but would stop when one (or both) of us got in a serious relationship and now neither of us are seeing anybody'

anyone she'd met while living in new york (on and off 2007-2023) or traveling (studied abroad in london in 2010, and filmed in different locations around the world from 2015-2023)

flirtationship/fwbs/one night stands/tinder dates

friends who’ve had a falling out/frenemies/enemies

connects through her brothers

neighbors

owners of businesses her production company's produced commercials for

drinking buddies

gym buddies

[ghostly-penumbra]

Seven Ways to Summon the Ghost King

Chapter Seven: Family Call

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [here]

Ao3

Summary: How can you say no to such a pressing call?

... no, really, Danny would love to know.

Notes: There are big spoilers for The Sandman comics. And I mean HUGE. As in, the culmination of the comic HUGE. Ye be warned!

- - -

“Brother, I stand in my gallery and hold your sigil. Please come through.”

“I am –ha!– in the middle of something right now.”

The being dressed all in white blinked, unimpressed, “I am worried about your safety, please come through.”

“Just… need… to kill them all…”

Dream of the Endless, no longer known as Daniel Hall, sighed in exasperation.

“Twin brother I am in my gallery holding your sigil, and I summon you.”

“Don’t you- stop that! Shit! You, kid, if you win this match in my name, I’ll make ya my apprentice!”

There was a fervid screech, and finally, his brother passed through where his portal portrait was.

Death of the Endless, pretty much still Daniel James Fenton, was spat out of his portrait and landed headfirst on the floor of the Dream Lord’s gallery.

“Hello there, twinsie dearest.” Danny deadpanned, crossing his arms as he glared up at his twin brother.

It was a curious thing, their twinship. Daniel Hall and Daniel James Fenton had both been born the 3rd of April of 1990, effectively making them the same age, but Daniel Hall had been in the womb for almost two years, making him technically older in existence, and Danny Fenton had been born premature.

Now, Death had already been there when Dream had first come to exist, because everyone had the potential to die long before they could even dream for the first time, so that Death had been Dream’s senior. But, this was a different Dream and a different Death, and the current Dream had taken his position in 1993, whilst the current Death had done so in 2023, giving this Dream work seniority.

Then again, this Dream had been a toddler when the position was given to him, and this Death had already been thirty-three, a whole adult by that point.

In the end there were too many factors to tell who was older than whom but since Desire and Despair had chosen to be twins, why couldn’t they?

“Hello, little brother.” Dream smiled down at him.

Knowing they wouldn’t reach a definite conclusion didn’t stop them from bantering over who was the older brother, however.

“I saw you had been summoned to the Waking world and through the eyes of one of your invokers, noticed you were nonplussed. I’m worried, brother.”

Ah, yeah, he might have knocked a kid out cold with his presence. It happened. And- she got better!

“That was two hours ago, baby bro. Having trouble measuring time in the Living world again?” He teased even as he held up a hand to be helped up.

“Au contraire, Death. I know just fine how long it’s been but I also know you can take care of yourself amongst a crowd of teenagers, powered or not. Alas, you took your time, and I grew restless.”

Dream lifted his brother up and got a snort and a friendly shoulder shove as a reward.

- - -

The brothers stood next to each other on Dream’s balcony, overlooking his Kingdom. Well, Dream stood, whilst Death sat on the railing, with his feet hanging down, back in his human living form as a 33 years old adult.

(He was already dead long before he became Death, so there was no need to kill him a second time. The fact that he was alive and could choose to be so whenever he wanted was of no consequence. It was more likely one of the reasons he had been a perfect pick for it.)

Danny broke the silence, “They couldn’t have done anything to me, even if they had tried. You know that.” He threw a pebble at the far-off lake and saw it skip endlessly.

Dream didn’t look at him. He didn’t need to have his predecessor’s memories of his entrapment to know what it had done to him. Even after the incident with the Dream Vortex, he had been proud and unyielding. Arrogant.

A human lifetime of imprisonment later, and as soon as he was free, he started planning his demise.

“Poorly done?” He asked instead.

“No, not at all,” Was his twin’s answer, “The circle was perfect, so was the chanting, and if there weren’t any trapping mechanism that was there on purpose. This one kid had a journal, the one who had the idea to summon the concept of Death to their dorm, filled with the knowledge we took with us when we left.”

He wasn’t talking about Dream, because Dream still walked the Waking world and interacted with humans in a more regular basis than his predecessor. It had been Death who, tired and grieving, had chosen to step away from the living, and only show himself to collect them and guide them to their next step; and as the King of Ghosts, he had taken all ghosts, spirits and shades with him, freeing them if they were trapped, helping them move on if they were still hesitant, and forcibly dragging them if they refused to stop wreaking havoc.

And he hadn’t been the only one; Heaven had finally stopped it’s wayward angels from going to Earth and, as Death would put it, “fucking shit up”, and the souls that resided there could no longer be summoned either.

Same thing with Hell; the gates had been closed so that the damned could only enter, not leave. There were no more demons making deals and messing with humanity anymore.

“That shouldn’t be possible. You made sure to kill all that knowledge in the Waking world.

Death sent a glare to his brother. He had not ‘killed the knowledge’, he had just taken it to his castle in the Ghost Zone, where only the dead resided. Shut up.

“And they won’t see it in their dreams, either.” He chose to say.

“Never.” his brother reassured quickly. The Dreaming would not inspire anyone in ways that could harm any of his siblings.

“Yeah, I thought as much,” Death huffed with a smile, “There was a…” He continued, knowing better than to use the word ‘thing’ when referring to someone that could think and feel. “… a being attached to this kid’s soul. It- he is something neither Didi nor I had ever seen.”

He let his words remain in the space between them, and knew his twin was seeing them written out in the air in front of him. (Much likely in comic sans, the asshole.)

“Not in a physical shape, at least.”

His brother said nothing, and only watched him reach revelation on his own even if it still was in his realm. He could be an ass patient like that.

Danny thought about it, looking for the words to explain his mind to the collective subconscious of the multiverse.

“That being is a bridge, for knowledge on us, not just us Endless, but many non-mortals, on our realms, how to call us, how to find us, how to appease us… how to trap us.”

This time he did see the words hanging between them –and it was comic-fucking-sans–, a bright toxic green that read trap. He put a hand on Dream’s shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

“He didn’t put the trapping sigils, and they wouldn’t have stopped me in this form.” Even after becoming an Endless, that little trick of his didn’t stop working. Things meant to contain the dead had no power on him when he chose to be alive, and vice-versa. He could get his siblings out, too, should they need it.

He wouldn’t sit idly whilst he knew he could help. He could protect.

And, if anyone tried to go and tell him of rules and limitations, he could kindly point them to his Obsession and how it predated his duty as an Endless, how it had been part of him for almost a decade, and how the change in his nature had not managed to override it from him, no matter how much it tried.

Not wanting to continue with that topic, Dream said instead, “Did you have fun? Annoying or not, it’s been a while since you spoke with someone your age who still had a heartbeat.”

On cue, rings of light swept Danny up and down, turning him back to his ghost form, looking fourteen years old, right before his growth spur, with baby fat still on his cheeks and, if he lowered his guard long enough, sometimes he still moved like that hunched, awkward teen still discovering who he was.

“It was cool, actually! Most ‘these kids were nice, and they had  a bunch of cool video games; is not like any of them were a real challenge, but new competence is always welcome. Their universe didn’t have DOOMED, though, even if they are three centuries after the game was invented, but I fixed that, so I think they’ll be okay.” He said, knowing damn well he would be going back soon as the war started, to collect several of the people they loved and admired. “I may have won at DDR, but that girl sure got the Spirit Award.” He turned a mischievous smirk at his brother and found him grimacing and holding back a sigh, which only got Danny to laugh out loud at him, his smile so wide his eyes were half-closed in joy.

- - -

“Things are changing.” Danny said as they stared at the night sky, this time from the Waking, Living world where they had been born, four thousand and fourteen years ago.

“They always do.” Dream was a prime example of that.

“You know I fuckin’ hate chess analogies-” And he did, so much that the last time he had touched a chess board had been to throw it at Vlad’s annoying face. “-but… ugh, the pieces are being set, something’s gonna make a move, and we’ll have to face this new… board.” Danny scrunched up his nose in distaste. Fucking analogies. “And we need to move, too,” he continued nonetheless, “we gotta be ready, ‘cause if what’s coming next is what I think…” He didn’t finish his sentence, because he genuinely didn’t know how it’d all turn out. People would die, but they always did, as for the rest…

“Brother, please speak plainly.”

But Death couldn’t, he didn’t dare voice his concern here in the presence of both Father Time and Mother Night and speak it into reality. He wouldn’t fuck it all up again, when it was the ones he loved whom suffered the consequences. It had always been that way.

So he chose his words carefully.

“… the mascaraed will fall, there is now a bridge between what we tried to hide, and them. I don’t doubt there are others across the multiverse-” connected, drawing the others to themselves, “-it’s just that-” I haven’t been there, I haven’t paid attention, I stopped protecting them, “I didn’t notice before.”

“And when the game board is changed,” Dream continued in his brother’s stead, knowing how his thoughts spiralled, “if we don’t adapt to the new rules-”

“We adapt.”

Dream blinked, and turned to fully look at his twin brother.

Even still in his ghostly, Endless form his eyes were their icy blue, and they didn’t have that bright ethereal shine of their own, but instead reflected the street lamp next to their bench, the full moon above them, the stars in their mother’s body and the stars on Dream’s own eyes. Danny’s blue eyes shone with the world around them, alive.

There was no question in those eyes, no hesitation. This was something he was willing to speak into fact, into truth, unshakable.

They would adapt, because the other option was the end, everything and everyone leaving, everywhere. Danny locking the door with key and-

Being left behind, alone and Endless, please don’t, I don’t wanna, don’t make me-

“We adapt.” His brother echoed, his eyes human and green, a sign of affection, an oath of support, with their parents and anyone that cared to see as witness.

Danny breathed in again, not needing but wanting to, and rested his forehead on his twin’s shoulder.

“We got preparations to make. I may have already started. Let’s go, bro.”

Under their Father’s watchful gaze, two Daniels stood and left the quiet park of Amity and prepared for the future.

FIN

- - -

And so ends my first multi-chaptered fic written outside an event! Thank y'all for being with me these days and for all your lovely comments I haven't gotten around to replying!

Whatever they are, I would love to read your thoughts on this, because it was this chapter I wanted to write all along. There is a heartbreaking lack of Danny Phantom/The Sandman crossovers, and I feel it.

Real life is awful right now, so I don't think I'll get to write more of this concept, of Danny being Death of the Endless, but do feel free to come yell at me in my ask box anytime!

Also, a sidenote I can finally say: Something funny I'm noticing in the DPxDC area is that people are giving Danny the "all souls will be mine in the end" role as part of being the King of the Infinite Realms, and I'm like "uh, no, that's Death's bit, a canonical DC character. you guys are trying to make Danny Death" WHICH IS WHAT I JUST DID LMFAO

Anyway, thanks for reading ❤️

[quaranmine]

Hello, it's me the anon who write about their thoughts, intepretation and message about your fic. I'm glad you like my thoughts and such. I deeply appreciated it. Say i have a few questions, i was browsing your blog see. And i saw that you or someone you possibly reblog linked two other fics that connected to 'The incandescene of a dying light' universe. And i wanna ask is this canon to the first fic? Because if so, that's cool that the others are being inspired to write and attempt to connect their fics to your universe fic. Also i know this is probably irrelevant but i got ask. How are Scar and Grian doing to the year 2020 on the fic? Is scar still working to shoshone national park to this year i mention or he retired a long time ago? Is there an age limit for the employees working for the national forest like at this age you be immediately or forcedly retired with small benefits package just for your safety? Also i wonder what Grian and Scar reactions to the invention of the internet and smartphones during the 1990-2010's because i just take a little research about international calls during the 1980-1990's and ugh... that's a hefty price to pay for such calls. No wonder people avoid staying too long on international calls. Because the phones bills man, it's gonna burn your wallet. Anyway that's all of my questions. I hope i didn't bother or anythin' about my questions. Have a good time, writer.

Hello, nice to see you again in my inbox!!

Yes, my story has inspired several recursive works (which is the term for a fanfic of a fanfic) and I'd like to give them a shout-out!

I Waved Goodbye to the End of Beginning by @crazypercheron is a fantastic multi-chaptered work set the year after the main fic took place. It's about Cub visiting Scar's lookout and trying to offer him comfort as he realizes Something happened last year. It has a slower pace than the main story and really expands on a lot of details about Scar's life as a lookout.

The Evergreens Enfold the Shrine by @darkaviarymc is an amazing little story that asks the question of how Mumbo's story will be perceived later, through some college students (Gem, Etho, Beef) in 1995 telling a ghost story about Mumbo.

From Embers by @honeylashofficial is a great oneshot set in the same universe (but not directly referencing the main fic) about what happens when Impulse and Skizz go hiking in the forest and get injured.

The Phosphorescence of a Glimmer in Extrimis by TotallyNotAPlant is a little crack AU in which Mumbo is just. A cryptid in the forest.

Of these, TotallyNotAPlant's story is definitely not canon since it's a crack story, but the other three are sort of....dubious canon? Half-canon? They're not fully canon because they were not written by me, and I might have made different choices. (This does not mean I dislike the choices anyone has made, it just simply means we all have our own unique styles as writers. I am thrilled that other people are finding their own meaning in my work and I don't want to dissuade them from doing so by demanding they fit my exact mental framework.) Since they are recursive works, I cannot guarantee I won't ever end up causing continuity errors if I upload something new because I do have a few other works in this AU that might get uploaded. However, I'm incredibly pleased with the work that all these lovely writers have done, and I am willing to work around what they're doing if I can!

Scar and Grian are doing great in present day! I think they'd benefit from being able to communicate more easily now. Scar may or may not be retired by now--without taking exact birthdays into account, he'd be about 64 in 2020 since he was 33 in the main fic (and 68 today.) Grian would be approx. 59 in 2020 and 63 in 2024 (but i am not incorporating exact birthdays into this.)

As far as I know there isn't an age requirement for fire lookouts, just the physical requirements like being able to hike/haul water/chop wood etc. I have seen videos/read about older lookouts. The only Forest Service age requirements I know of is that wildland firefighters must be under 37, and law enforcement officers must be under 37 when appointed. Otherwise there is not an age where you are forced out of typical federal service, just an age you're eligible to retire like all jobs.

Based on federal hiring, Scar would either be a temporary appointment (<6 months, can be rehired on a yearly basis but not guaranteed. Most common for fire lookouts) or seasonal permanent (must work minimum 6 months, guaranteed rehire with benefits and retirement.) I'd prefer him to be seasonal permanent just for his, like, quality of life but his fire lookout appointment is only 5 months so he doesn't immediately qualify. Maybe they keep him on at the office for an additional month after fire season ends. It might be most likely that he was hired as a recurring temporary employee for the first few years and then offered a seasonal permanent position. OPM has information about how this worked in the 80s but it's a bit too in the weeds for me to bother with LOL.

The real question isn't his retirement or age though--it's if the lookout is even still in service. I personally do not think it would be. There are VERY few lookouts left in the 2020s. I found an article from 2016 that said there were only 3 left in operation in Wyoming, and I don't even know if that's still true 8 years later. There's plenty of out-of-service ones remaining, and you can easily rent them for a night to sleep in on recreation.gov. But very few remain staffed. By the time the story is set, most lookouts are already out of service. I think it's likely his lookout would go out of service somewhere in the 90s. I think he'd work there til it went out of service, but I don't think this is a job he can keep the rest of his career. He might be offered a career transitional job in the Forest Service after that but I don't know if he'd take it or not. He could be an interpreter or some other seasonal job. To me the loss of a fire lookout job isn't a sad ending for him though--it's just how life and careers change :) I don't really have a clear idea of what he'd do instead. He has a lot of random skills picked up from the work he does in the off season and I think he'd pretty easily find something else to pick up.

Reactions to internet: well, Grian's going to have to learn computer stuff to do his job! Remember how Mumbo was learning computer aided design but Grian didn't know much about computers? Yeah, buddy, AutoCAD is about to become an industry staple for architects in the 90s so you need to keep up. Poor Grian with all his hand-drafting skills.

In @darkaviarymc's fic there's a bit about Scar being active on those mid-90s message boards that I LOVE. I think he totally would do that and have all this knowledge about the outdoors but also weirdly specific extra knowledge. And tons of misspellings of course.

Grian and Scar would keep in touch. The growing accessibility of the internet would only help. The phone bills...yeah there's no great way around that in the early years. I also like to think Scar goes to visit Grian in England since he's never been at the time of the main story :)

[jenuinely-speaking]

hi!!! can i ask 1, 12, 19, and 33 for the ask game?

Hello hello Lucky! 👋🏽🥰Hope your day is/has been going smoothly!

Starting off strong I see. Alrighty then *cracks knuckles* here we go~

1) What was your first exposure to TMNT?

I laugh at this now in retrospect.

Picture this: 9-year-old Jen visiting her newly moved out older sister with her mom. Mom and sis are needing to talk about stuff that doesn't involve wee little Jen, so big sis tells her to watch whatever DVD was left in the player -- should be good for a kid younger than preteen age to watch. Low and behold, it was the original 1990 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie, at that time the same age as wee little Jen. Now, little Jen has seen the original cartoon -- but it had been a hit or miss. But this movie? Holy crap, it was like the holy grail was delivered within the palm of her hands.

What's funny, apparently mom and sis ended their conversation not even fifteen minutes into the movie and tried to get my attention, but I was immediately hooked and sucked into it -- they finally got my attention about halfway through the movie lol We ended up eating lunch at my sister's so I could stay and watch the movie. Never looked back and have no regrets (and lovingly fully blame my older sister to this day for my obsession🐢💕).

12) Which version of Donatello is your favorite?

Picked up on that, I see lol Honestly, love all the turtles equally due to their differences and complimentary dynamics--BUT, speaking specifically on Dontron...couldn't have asked a tougher question lol

After thinking on this (I literally stepped away to ponder this question, no lie) it will have to be Bayverse Donatello. His adorable snort-laugh (tickles me every time). His nonchalance on electrocuting his brothers with his electric bo. His pure, un-adulterated excitement with anything science/tech related, even if it's preconceived inconceivable science and tech. HIS NONCHALANT STEPPING OUT OF AN AIRPLANE AS IF HE WERE STEPPING OFF A PORCH. BRO. Just. *mind still trying to compute after so many years* What the fuck, Don?

I also can't help but think Bayverse Donatello was a core blueprint/inspiration for Rise Donatello and, if that's truth, I love that kid (Rise) even more for his complete, unhinged energy ✨🤌🏽

19) Who is your favorite ally?

Hands down, the Nutrinos from the 1987 cartoon. Absolutely love the trio, especially Kala. The episode where she was accidently stranded in the boys' dimension, and they had to work on getting her back home is one of my top 10 favorite episodes of any iteration of the series. Michelangelo and Kala tiptoeing around their hard-core crushes for each other is just chef kiss ✨🤌🏽🧡

33) What is your favorite thing you've made for TMNT?

Hhhhnnnggg That's another toughie, considering how endless my pit of stories has become. If I'm to be honest, it's a tie between two drafts that I have:

1) A story that started 13 years ago titled "The Fifth Renaissance Master". It is currently getting revised and ties in TMNT with Gargoyles and Transformers, a story that will be told within the span of 3 arcs. My two favorite bits? And this I don't mind spoiling 'cause it's gonna be in the summary once it's a good way along to post -- I figured out a way to have Elisa be their sister while still holding her adult history on becoming a detective for the NYPD. And for Transformers to tie in via the villains after the second arc. Words ✨cannot express✨ how excited I am for this story.

2) A softer story titled "A Family Tail" that is geared towards Splinter finding, in his early years as a newly formed mutant and father, the care, compassion, friendship, and eventual love from a nurse that helps him get his sons through their first ever bout of illness at a very young age. Possibly one of the most wholesome stories I've ever plotted out and my heart hurts so good every time I pick it up to write😭💕. I am thinking of posting this one soon(like, two really's soon), chapter-by-chapter, as I randomly get scenario ideas during the day. So, this one might just end up an on-going story post soon enough.

[fiercynn]

On the evening of October 12th, the Palestinian American legal scholar and human rights attorney Noura Erakat called into the CBS News Streaming show Prime Time with John Dickerson—which airs nightly on CBS’s website and apps, as well as on Pluto TV and Paramount—for a live interview on the human rights crisis caused by Israel’s bombing of Gaza. According to internal CBS discussions reviewed by Jewish Currents, employees at CBS had prioritized booking Erakat in part because the show had not included any Palestinian guests in its coverage of the region during the previous three days. But while the interview aired live to the network’s thousands of streaming viewers, CBS omitted the footage—in which Erakat sharply criticized the anchor’s framing of Israel’s actions—from the version of the episode published online that night, and declined to post a standalone clip of the interview, as it usually would. According to a schedule reviewed by Jewish Currents, the interview was initially listed in the 7:30 pm slot, between segments on Senator Bob Menendez and Israel/Palestine-related protests across the United States. But while those reports appear in the version of the show available online, Erakat’s remarks do not. Speaking with Jewish Currents, Erakat described her Prime Time interview as “a really tense back-and-forth.” “Rather than just answer questions about how bad things are,” she said, “I talked about media responsibility for perpetuating racist and Islamophobic tropes that have basically fomented war.” When Jeff Glor, the anchor filling in for Dickerson, described Hamas’s October 7th attacks on Israeli civilians as “barbarian,” Erakat asked why the same term wasn’t used to describe actions by Israel, noting that Israeli soldiers shot and killed her cousin three years ago at a checkpoint in the West Bank, and Israel still has not returned his body. Further, when Glor started to say that Gaza was facing Israel’s current bombing campaign “because Hamas started it,” Erakat asked if he thought Israel’s war crimes in Gaza were justified, leading Glor to backtrack. [x]

the article goes on to talk about numerous other palestinian and muslim commentators, analysts, and journalists who have been sidelines, including yousef munayyer, a palestinian american write and political analyst who was set to appear on CNN's this morning until he told them that he planned to "raise awareness about the mass atrocities" committed by israel; omar baddar, a palestinian american political analyst who was similarly scheduled for a CNN international show until he shared an outline of his planned comments; medhi hasan, ayman mohyeldin, and ali velshi, three MSBNC journalists sidelined from hosting their own shows; and more.

this only contributes to the overall media bias against palestine, one that has been ongoing for decades: historian maha nassar wrote a piece for +972 magazine in 2020 showing that out of the 5,739 op-eds about palestine published in the new york times and the washington post from 1970-2019, only 78 were authored by palestinians - LESS THAN ONE AND A HALF PERCENT. even someone as famous as edward said only had one op-ed published by the new york times throughout the 1990s, during which time thomas friedman wrote 33 articles discussing palestinians, william safire wrote 24, anthony lewis wrong 39, and a.m. rosenthal wrote 56.

[cryiinglikecassandra]

a brief introduction to CHESTER KOWALSKI, a 34 year old WITCH, current OWNER of MAGPIE'S EYE and conduit of the dead and demonic.

IN CHARACTER 

FULL NAME:  Chester Kowalski SPECIES: Witch, Hallowed Circle Coven AGE: 33 DATE OF BIRTH: 17th October 1990 GENDER IDENTITY: Cismale, He/Him NEIGHBORHOOD: Downtown OCCUPATION: Store Clerk / Owner of Magpie’s Eye WORKPLACE: Herb & Spice Apothecary / Magpie’s Eye POSITIVE TRAITS: Spontaneous, Friendly, Compassionate NEGATIVE TRAITS: Catty, Jealous, Self-Indulgent LENGTH OF TIME IN RAVEN’S PEAK: 22 years FACE CLAIM: Robert Sheehan

BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGER WARNING: Cults, Death, Birth

Florian came into the world to the sound of hymns, prayers in dead tongues, a circle around his laboring mother, people in robes with hands held high as he was birthed on a great carved tablet. There was silence afterwards, the babe held squirming as it cried loud, echoing off the walls. What were they waiting for? A sign. It came when the babe continued to wail, no silence following, accepted by their worshiped deity. Florian had not been slaughtered but, perhaps it would’ve been kinder than what followed. A brand was seared onto the back of the babes’ neck, a symbol written in an infernal language, marking Florian a door for all things dead and demonic to pass through – for he’d been born into the Children of Demise, a witching coven-turned cult who worshiped demons. Not that anybody would know, on the outside, they were just another communal family, preaching unity and recruiting the vulnerable and lost to their cause.

  He was so beloved growing up, doted on by the many mothers, for he was made to be a prophet through which their lord spoke. For all this dread and despair, it was often not reflected on Florian, too young to really know what he was doing. Sometimes, people he couldn’t see talked to him, imaginary friends who told him all about the world, about things that had been – some were kindly and gentle, others waves of anger and grief, wailing about how they died, why had they died? Florian learned that these invisible beings could take over his body and use him as he used dolls. When you grow up with such powers, when others make you feel special and worshiped, it’s impossible to feel terrible about such a thing.

  Except – there was one aspect Florian didn’t like. That was, when the demon would possess him, wear his flesh and do bad things.

  All cults face dissent, no matter how strong. Florian felt this loss the most when his mother, Magda, lost her best friend – the woman had been pregnant and fled for the betterment of her baby. Even at a tender age, he became quieter, more withdrawn from the loss of someone like a second mother. She was the first, and many followed afterwards, years suddenly becoming marred by turmoil and infiltration until eventually, another witching coven aided by hunters came to take the cult down. It was a bloody fight to the end, leaving only a few children and those who quickly gave up their loyalty when faced with violence. A gun was leveled at Florian, barely 12, to finally end the cult’s terrible mission.

  An older witch stepped in and stopped him. She took Florian – renamed him Chester – and adopted him as her own son. Chester has grown up in Raven’s Peak with little issue his entire life, being a loyal servant of the Hallowed Circle Coven that rescued him all those years ago. Recently, Chester has been dealing with his adoptive mother’s health decline and subsequent move into a care home the next city over.

OTHER

he can hear and occasionally see ghosts and spirits of those that have passed. chester isn't afraid of them, and actually offers a service where he will allow a person to speak to their deceased relative using him as the vessel. he charges an extortionate amount for this service because its physically and mentally taxing.

alexa play it girl by aliyah's interlude

very good at potions & healing magic, his main specialty.

grows some magic infused...herbs that you can smoke for certain emotional affects.

it's zaza.

loves the coven he's in and is fiercely protective of it and those within.

very affectionate. loves to hug others, kisses to the crown of your head, holding hands, always kind of got to be touching you?

siri play good old fashioned loverboy by queen

probably actually nonbinary but not an aspect of himself he feels he has time to explore at this point

loves karaoke!

brand on the back of his neck is covered up by his hair. it's long curls, just to his shoulders.

kind of always wearing eyeliner. has a very loud and statement based fashion sense.

enjoys painting, runs local nude drawing classes. is sometimes the subject.

terrified of demons. absolutely? they whisper to him in the night and he has frequent nightmares about it.

isn't fond of hunters. like, at all.

certified yapper

[donovanpaak]

INTRODUCING...Donovan Paak.

STATS:

Nicknames: Donnie, Don.

Character Age:  33

Neighborhood: Midtown

Occupation: Firefighter

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday: June 29th, 1990

Faceclaim: Charles Melton

Hometown: Asheville, NC.

Years of Residence: 25 Years

Pinterest Board /

Character Inspiration: Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Patrick Verona (10 things I hate about you), Kevin G (Mean Girls), Rick O'Connell (The Mummy), Neville Longbottom (Harry Potter)

tldr;

-- DONOVAN PAAK grew up in a loving home where knowledge was everything. his parents went missing when he was only seven years old and he ended up being fostered by the yoon's, a family that showed him nothing but real love. not long after, a single mother with means adopted him and helped him try to connect the dots of his biological parents' disappearance. after years and with no answers, donnie made it his mission to save people that needed to be saved. he became a firefighter after spending a year in south korea, thriving in his career until three years ago when he made a mistake and his friend decided to take the fall for him. since then, donnie wonders how long his conscience will let him keep the secret and struggles with keeping up with the lies.

READ BELOW for fun facts, biography, possible connections.

random facts

donnie loves drawing and will do so at any time of the day, even when he's having a conversation with his close friends or family

has quite the graphic novels collection; however if you ask him about any tv show or movie, he will probably not have any idea of what you're talking about

hosts video game nights once a month at his mother's home in carriage falls

can and will outdrink you under any circumstances

can be a little quiet and reserved upon first meeting him

will do anything for the people that he loves

donnie can fall asleep very easily and will take naps at random times of the day

owns too many backpacks

prefers to stay in rather than going out, but will still have fun when out with friends

owns way too many books, his collection includes all the books that belonged to his parents. he hasn't read half of their stuff but reads one book a week

he's a people pleaser and is mostly happy when he makes other people happy

biography

Donnie was born in Asheville to loving parents whose real and only love was their research and their son. The Paak’s had found love in what most people would call a movie story, two archaeologists that met in university and married right after. Donovan was born two years after their marriage, and then five years later they found a topic that turned their research into their whole lives.

Donovan doesn’t remember a lot of it, or of his parents, but they traveled more often than not when he was a child. His grandmother would take care of him until she passed away, then came the nannies,or the aunts. It was during one of those trips that his parents never came back from. Donnie was seven.

The foster system is one of the first things that he can remember, but unlike most kids, Donovan remembers it fondly as that is where he met the Yoon’s. Minhyuk came first as his social worker, but also who eventually became his foster dad which led to Donovan’s move to the town that he now calls home: Wilmington. With the man came Sara and Mahi, who Donnie grew so attached to that by the time that he had to say goodbye to his temporary family, he knew he would never be able to let them go.

With the Yoon’s, he learned what a home cooked meal was, what having siblings felt like, what sharing toys really meant, but most of all, he learned that his parents hadn’t left him, but that they’d been missing after their flight to Berlin.

It worked out perfectly when almost a year after being in the system, Donovan was adopted by a single woman in her thirties who’d always wanted children but couldn’t have them with or without a partner. Adela Garcia was a sophisticated, fairly rich museum curator and collector. But Donnie’s favorite thing about the woman was that she was local to Wilmington and that was all that mattered because that meant that he would stay in touch with his sisters. He could get through anything with them.

Adela was the perfect mother though, food was always on the table, traveling overseas only happened when she could take Donovan with her, she didn’t miss a school play or sporting event, bought him anything and everything that her son wanted. The one thing that she could not give him though? Answers. 

At thirteen, Donovan only wanted to know what happened to his parents, how could they have disappeared out of thin air and why had no one ever asked these questions? So, Adela helped him. She hired investigators, let him miss classes when needed, hugged him when they hit dead-ends. 

Slowly, Donnie realized that his parents’ disappearance would always be a mystery to him. This led to him acting out a little bit. He tried getting into fights with older kids in school, tried drinking, yelled at his adoptive mom, yelled at who’d once been his foster dad. High school was a roller coaster, too much pent up frustration and heartbreak that he was finally letting out. Donnie often wondered if his mom would give up on him but she never did, neither did the Yoon’s.

When no one left him, he realized that despite not having answers, he had a family, and although he would never stop looking for his birth parents, Donnie had to move on. Meeting Chloe helped, it was like someone finally understood him. He’d found the missing piece to his support system.

At eighteen, Donovan graduated high school. He and Adela spent a year in Korea, where they found his father’s side of the family and although he loved spending time with them, he was even happier to be back home in Wilmington when they did come back. Spending a whole year doing nothing but drawing, reading and sightseeing gave him answers that he hadn’t had upon graduation.

He joined the fire academy the day that they landed back in Wilmington. Two years later, he joined the Wilmington Fire Station as a candidate. His mother wasn’t particularly happy, she could have paid for any school, any major, but her son had chosen to put his life at risk everyday of his life. Donovan’s answer was and will always be that he can’t do anything that isn’t helping those who need it. 

Naturally, Donnie thrived as a firefighter, graduating top of his class and becoming the driver for the truck in record time according to the older firefighters. He has worked his way up in the past decade and is thought of very highly by his teammates and superior officers, but he’s never really wanted up the hierarchy as the reason why he wanted to be in the job was that he could save people. It’s his calling.

Three years ago, Donovan and another firefighter went on a call with everyone else and Donnie messed up by being impatient and not following his chief’s direct orders, which led to one of his teammates getting extremely hurt. When Donnie woke up, his friend had taken the fall for him, telling him in secret that with his injuries he couldn’t keep being a firefighter and Donovan deserved a second chance, he’d only done what he thought was right.

Despite his friend’s support, Donnie has felt incredibly guilty since then and for a few years struggled to be happy with his job, feeling as if he’d betrayed the firefighter spirit and honor by letting a dear friend take the fall for his mistake. He’s never told anyone but as much as he loves his job, he wonders if his conscience is going to let him continue working and has found himself not as centered as he’s always been, trying to see if he should follow his gut, come clean and lose everything he’s worked so hard for or to keep quiet and keep going.

possible connections

friends, childhood friends, fwb, hook ups, one night stands, enemies, rivals, drinking buddies, partners in crime, love interests, anything you can think of that your character can fit into his life!

[lxvenderhxzehv]

(Miley Cyrus) [THE ROCKSTAR]. Please welcome [Tiffany ‘Tiff’ Royale (She/Her)] to Huntsville, WV. They are an [33]-year-old [RESIDENT] who lives in [TOWN]. You may see them around working as a [Private music Teacher]. They are looking for [Nickleby 'Nick’ Dalton] their [Half-sibling] Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive.

Name: Tiffany Royale Actual Name: Daisy March Dalton Nicknames: Tiff Age/DOB: 33, september 24, 1990 Gender: cis-Female She/Her Sexual Orientation: PansexualPersonality type: The Rockstar Relationship status: single Occupation: Private music teacherDestianation: In Town

Bio:

Born Daisy March Dalton, Tiffany was her mother and fathers pride and Joy until was about 7 years old that's when Nick was born and suddenly her world the flipped upside down. Her parents split and her dad left them. Everything she had know was changing, but the one thing she still had was her music. and While she was against the idea of being an older sister and Nick and Tiffany fought like siblings do but there was one thing they could always bond over and that was music.

At a young age Tiffany had always been really good with music. She knew how to play piano and guitar by the time she was 8 years old. Then one instrument after another along with song writing Tiffany was well versed in music by the time she got to high school and was even in her own band with a few of her friends. Writing songs for them Tiff was perfectly find being be hind the scenes and in the back ground.

It was around her senior year that Tiff started dating a guy from the town over. His band had a bit more notoriety than her own. So when she got the news that his ban was moving on in the battle of the bands competition she packed her things and went on the road with them. The band did very well the first few rounds and even made it to the finals. When the band and the crew went out that night to celebrate the victories they had so far they went to a Karaoke bar. Tiff got on stage as a bet little did she, or the band for that matter that there was a producer in the crowd that night. He offered Tiff the opportunity of a life time.

Before she knew it she was the one of the most popular pop stars out there. Selling out arenas with in minuets, having more money than she knew what to do with. it was then she decided it was time to go back and see her family. However when she got to the last address she was given by there mom, all she was greeted with was a for sale sign and and Empty home. She tired to get in touch but never was able to get an answer so she gave up.

about 5 years ago Tiff decided it was time for a change, She had been doing pop for 10 years it was time to move into the rock scene. at first people didn't take her seriously, but suddenly she was just a popular then as she was before. She found her people where she belong.

now 15 years later she has found herself back in Huntsville after her tour bus broke down.

[aclaywrites]

My 21st birthday— 33 years ago, wow! 1990, the year of this book’s publication! Lesbian friends from the LGA (Lesbian-Gay alliance. I remember the following year when we had a long debate over renaming ourselves LGBA to add Bisexuals and how Lambda Alliance was all-inclusive but maybe too vague to get noticed by people looking for the gay club in the newspaper. Friends at a different university had a similar renaming drama. One of them suggested Freedom Action Group which was winning the vote until everyone else noticed the initials 😂 but I digress…)

The ladies took me out to the gay part of town, which is centered around a nationally legendary homo hook-up hotel. We start off at Alibis, the lesbian club where I’ve heard men had to have lesbian escorts in order to be allowed in. That’s where the country dyke asked me to dance (see Query #6) and I watched my friends play pool before we moved on. I was absolutely out to myself at the time, and abstractly hoping for love and romance (I was a bit of a late-bloomer, so while I understood my desires, I wasn’t really ready to act nor be acted upon).

Next stop, Angles, the biggest gay bar in the city and in the state. This was much more movie-style nightlife with bars on two floors and drag queens in the ladies room, loud music and giant video screens. We danced and danced and so many fags complimented my dress and my hair, it made me feel so pretty, and I didn’t even realize at the time that my friends were all making love connections and I was becoming bffs with the boys.

My initial response was ‘Oh what fun!!!! This is where magic happens!!’ 😂 Soon I came to prefer a house party to a bar night, and it is still that way.

I think about that cowgirl at least once a month. I hope she got a happy ending.

[usafphantom2]

A CIA Spyplane Crashed Outside Area 51 a Half-Century Ago. This Explorer Found It.

How urban explorers uncovered the site—and the memory—of a covert Cold War–era accident.

Sarah Scoles

composite illustration and picture of a jet in a desert

Stealth A-12 jets were never meant to be seen, then one went missing in the Nevada desert. US Air Force

“OXCART” WAS AN ODD NICKNAME for the plane that killed pilot Walter Ray. Oxcarts are slow, cumbersome, and old. Ray’s A-12 jet, meanwhile, was fast, almost invisible, and novel. Among the US’s first attempts at stealth aircraft, it could travel as quickly as a rifle bullet, and fly at altitudes around 90,000 feet. On a radar screen, it appeared as barely a blip—all the better to spy on Soviets with—and had only one seat.

On January 5, 1967, that single space belonged to Ray, a quiet, clean-cut 33-year-old who spent his workdays inside Area 51, then the CIA’s advanced-aviation research facility. Set atop the dried-up bed of Groom Lake in the Nevada desert, the now-infamous spot made for good runways, and was remote enough to keep prying eyes off covert Cold War projects. On the books, Ray was a civilian pilot for Lockheed Martin. In reality, and in secret, he reported to the CIA.

Ray’s last morning on Earth was chilled and windy, with clouds moving in and preparing to drop snow on the nearby mountains. He took off for his four-hour flight to Florida and back a minute ahead of schedule at 11:59 a.m., the sleek curves of the Oxcart’s titanium body triggering sonic shock waves (booms) as it sliced through the atmosphere. He’d done this many times, having already logged 358 hours in these crafts.

At 3:22 p.m., Ray radioed back to base: His gas was low. “I don’t know where my fuel’s gone to,” he said. He lowered the plane out of the speedy headwinds, hoping to save some fuel. But the altitude change couldn’t cut his consumption enough.

Thirty-eight minutes later, Ray radioed in more bad news.

The fuel tank’s low-pressure lights had blinked on. The A-12′s jet engines—so powerful that the director of central intelligence once said they sounded as if “the Devil himself were blasting his way straight from Hell”—began to fail, then sputtered out.

At 4:02, Ray sent his final known transmission: He was going to eject.

Home Plate—as this group of airmen referred to Area 51—began to search. They hoped to hear a transmission from the shortwave radio in his survival kit. For them, this hunt was also personal. Many worked on the same mission as Ray: developing planes that didn’t exist in a place that didn’t exist, sometimes risking an accident like this, which also wouldn’t exist.

Isolated in the desert, the group of about 30 staffers Barnes worked with on the site’s Special Projects felt like family. “We went up on Monday morning, came home Friday night,” recalls former Area 51 crewmember T.D. Barnes. “We couldn’t tell our wives where we were at or what we were doing.”

At 3:25 p.m. the next day, a helicopter found the plane, strewn across three canyons. The crews cut a road through the sand to schlep out the debris before anyone else found it—and found out about the secret flight.

Two days after takeoff, a CIA aircraft finally spotted Ray’s parachute, and men helicoptered in to locate their comrade. His chute formed a shroud around his body, and his ejection seat sat some 50 yards above him on the hillside. The two hadn’t separated, his parachute hadn’t deployed, and so he had slammed straight into the Earth. Blood spattered the ground, but Ray’s boots still had their spurs.

To explain the aerial search going on, the Air Force told the public a cover story: An SR-71 Blackbird—whose existence had recently been revealed—flying out of Edwards Air Force Base, had gone down.

For years, Ray’s crash sites remained largely hidden from the public. But in the late 1990s, an explorer named Jeremy Krans began what would become a decades-long quest to uncover it all, and ultimately to make Ray’s once-classified life public. “I felt that we needed to do something,” he says, “because nobody knows who the hell Walt is.”

Krans had a pastime that gave him the skills to do something about it: urban exploring, sometimes called “urbex” by the initiated. It’s the art of adventuring in and around abandoned or hidden structures, urban and otherwise. Urbexers scavenger-hunt for sites and then crawl through closed tunnels, scour old buildings, flashlight around finished mines, and trek through old military bases. The community—small and loose but dedicated, lurking and sharing on forums and blogs—is populated by photographers and amateur historians. They like to go places that used to be something else, to someone else. They’ve uncovered spots others likely never knew about, like the New Jersey State Hospital for the Insane and the rainwater drains under Sydney. Krans, once a frequent poster on the urbex forum UER.ca, has always favored defense sites, beginning with empty missile silos and ghostly military installations in his early 20s.

In 1995, he and a group of like-minded friends formed an exploratory crew dubbed “Strategic Beer Command” (a riff on the US’s then-recently disbanded Strategic Air Command). It would be a few years before they’d learn of Ray’s site, but the motivation was already there: a desire to remember what the rest of the world had forgotten.

KRANS’ INTEREST IN AVIATION goes back to the 1980s, when his dad, a machinist fascinated by engineering and innovative planes, would sometimes bring home jet models. Krans’s favorite was the SR-71 Blackbird, a Cylon-ship of a craft, and the follow-on to the A-12 he’d one day search out. Meanwhile, Krans devoured films like Indiana Jones and The Goonies—tales of explorers and treasure-hunters.

His own journey into such journeying began just months after his father passed away. Krans’s employer, a General Motors dealership, had sent him to its Automotive Service Educational Program. He felt lost and listless, and spent hours killing time between classes in the school’s computer lab, largely sucked into websites about Area 51, where he had recently made a road trip. He started reading Bluefire, a blog run by a guy named Tom Mahood. In 1997, Mahood spun a tale of searching for—and finding—a long-lost A-12 crash site. It had taken him more than two years, 20 trips, and $6,000 to replace a sunk truck.

Mahood was a veteran prober of Area 51 secrets, having, for instance, dug into the conspiratorial claims of Bob Lazar, whose stories underpin most of the site’s alien lore. (The site’s true Cold War purpose wouldn’t be acknowledged until 2013.) Mahood first read about the A-12 crash in The Oxcart Story, a 1996 CIA history of the plane’s development, which said only that Ray’s craft had gone down about 70 miles from Groom Lake. That’s not a lot to go on. The lack of information appealed to Krans: a quest.

Before Bluefire, Krans hadn’t heard of an A-12, let alone one that had gone down in the desert. The jet, he soon learned, was a marvel in its time. It could fly nearly four miles higher and four times faster (around 2,200 miles per hour, or nearly three times the speed of sound) than its predecessor, the U-2.

At such speeds, friction with the air heated much of its skin up to 600 degrees Fahrenheit. In the 1960s, the only metal light and tough enough for such a feat was a titanium alloy, which made up 90 percent of the aircraft. The remainder comprised composite materials—relying heavily on iron ferrite and silicone laminate, swirled with asbestos—that absorbed radar, rather than bouncing the waves back to whoever was watching.

That wasn’t the end of the innovation list. The lubricants also had to work at both the extreme temperatures reached while traveling at three times the speed of sound, and at lower, cooler speeds. The engines needed “spike-shaped cones’’ that could slow down, squish, and then superheat the air coming in for better combustion. According to a CIA history of the plane’s development, without the spikes, the engines would only have gotten 20 percent of the required power. Amidst all this, pilots had to don astronaut-ish suits, with their own temperature and pressure controls and oxygen supplies.

While the A-12 represented a big leap forward, its usefulness would be short-lived. The US decided to stop flying over the USSR in 1960 after a U-2 pilot was shot down; satellites had begun to snap recon pictures from orbit; and the A-12 progeny, the SR-71 had performed its first test flight in 1964. The Oxcart flew only 29 missions, between May 1967 and May 1968, in an operation called Black Shield out of East Asia.

Ray was preparing for Black Shield during his final ride, which went sideways due to several factors: a malfunctioning fuel gauge, electrical mishaps, and perhaps an untested modification he himself had added—a common practice for test pilots. Ray, a short man, had added a 2-by-4 to his seat to make the headrest hit right. When he ejected, the wood kept him from separating from the seat, which stopped the parachute from deploying.

It was in that entrapment that Ray lost his life. And it was in that computer lab that Krans decided he needed to go find out where. At the time, it was just another exploration. “It’s Indiana Jones,” he says. “It’s treasure hunting.”

He liked how his explorations changed his conception of the past. “I’ve had a love-hate relationship with history,” he says. Reading stuff in school? Closer to “hate.” But seeking and finding something physical felt different. “You walk back in time, and you say, ‘Okay, what was happening right here if I was here 40 years ago?’” he says. “It gets you thinking.”

So he set out to think about Walt Ray.

KRANS BEGAN COLLECTING information that might lead him to Ray. The accident had left two crash sites, one for the pilot and one for his plane, which rocketed on after Ray ejected. He started with the details Mahood had spilled, which did not include the actual site of the crash. Urbexers don’t like to spoil the ending, or make it too easy for crowds to spoil the site itself, and generally leave what they discover as a mystery for others to keep solving. Maps and satellite images are typically their best tools, supplemented by databases of historical, military, or former industrial sites. UrbexUnderground.com recommends aimlessly following rivers, railroad beds, or rural roads—because those routes usually track development.

Mahood had scoured old newspapers. The Los Angeles Times put reports of the covered-up version of the crash four miles southeast of a Union Pacific Railroad site called Leith; the Las Vegas Review-Journal and the Las Vegas Sun plotted it four miles to Leith’s southwest. Not helpful. He’d searched topographic maps and the land itself, looking for scars on the landscape, or roads that seemed to lead nowhere. Krans gathered all the information he could from Mahood’s descriptions.

Wanting to get more details, Krans told officials a “BS story” and then offered to cover a doughnut bill for the recorder’s office in Pioche, Nevada. Information gathered from the paperwork, which included Ray’s death certificate, revealed that the pilot had died 200 yards east of a particular mining claim, a couple miles from the larger Cherokee mining operation. Krans began to gather his own detailed maps of the area, and negatives of aerial photos. Soon, he knew approximately where Ray had met his end: just off an area called Meadow Valley Wash—a low drainage that flows with water when it storms. The spot was miles from anywhere, on the side of a hill whose poky desert plants scrape anyone who walks by, and over which wild horses keep watch.

The search for Walter Ray

Krans first headed out in the fall of 1998, driving to Cherokee Mine, and searching for plane debris, at a site somewhere farther out than Ray’s landing spot. To try to find that second location, he took pictures, tried to match them to his maps, and marked down the labeled sticks denoting mining claims. Two more subsequent trips, over a few ensuing years, also revealed nothing.

He gave up for a while. But the story kept flying through his mind. Not a good quitter, he ordered more digital photos from the United States Geological Survey (USGS) and filed a Freedom of Information Act request with the CIA. The results offered a few (differing) sets of coordinates for Ray’s hard landing and his plane’s.

The next time Krans went out, in 2005, he took eight people and three trucks. At the time, a flood had washed out the area, leaving 30-foot drops off the side of a narrow road. They uncovered nothing that he was sure came from a downed jet.

When he returned next in 2008, Krans brought along two four-wheelers, companions, and his daughter, Mercedes. At four years old, she’d been hearing about Ray much of her life. All they discovered were water bottles from earlier explorers.

“Something just told us that we were close,” Krans wrote at the time in a post on Roadrunners Internationale’s website, run by Area 51 veteran Barnes. The group aims to preserve the history of those who worked on Area 51′s classified aircrafts during the Cold War—and reunite, digitally and physically, the ones who are left, now that they can freely talk. The Roadrunners, about two dozen strong, have inducted Krans as an “associate member.”

On Krans’s next trip in 2009, he brought old hands and newcomers. One first-timer asked Krans if—after so many years of seeing nothing—he expected to just walk up and uncover the crash site. “Yup,” Krans said around the campfire, a cigar in his mouth and a near-empty beer in his hand. “I’ve been here too many times and know too many places that it wasn’t,” he wrote for the Roadrunners. “Like a life-size game of Battleship, it just can’t hide anymore.”

The next morning, the Commanders began their search where the group had halted the year before. It happened right away: As Krans was walking up a wash offshoot, something synthetic-looking caught his eye. Leaning down, he picked it up. It was an artifact from the A-12.

The others fanned out, and soon found their own pieces. They were right in the middle of the field of debris, left scattered by tragedy more than 40 years before.

Recalling this moment, Krans—who, since graduating from GM, has owned his own car-servicing shop and worked as an HVAC specialist—what it was like to find the site after so long, his voice breaks. “I don’t know how to describe it, I really don’t,” he says.

His limbic system manifests mostly in actions. Such as when, five years later, in 2014, Krans brought a memorial—a model of the A-12, welded to a metal pole—to near Ray’s resting place. He and Mercedes made it. They traced the plane’s edges onto body-shop paper, overlaid it onto a steel plate, and sliced the shape with a plasma cutter. Using a pipe bender from Krans’s old shop, they fabricated the engine housings, which stick out like devilish exhaust pipes.

At one point in their explorations, Mercedes asked her father why they were doing all this.

“Because nobody else did,” Krans told her.

OVER THE 12 YEARS Krans and various Strategic Beer Command adherents had spent seeking, the true goal of their quest had shifted. “As I kept making trips back, I just—” he pauses. “It got to be more about Walt.”

It became about pulling Ray and the other Area 51 workers—like Barnes—out of anonymity and back into existence. “A bunch of these guys, they were ghosts,” he says. “They didn’t exist for that portion of their lives.” A little metal memorial could change that.

On a September day, I attempted to find it. Outside the small town of Caliente in southeast Nevada, the road turned to well-graded dirt, curving around the rocky mountains whose strata mark the tectonics and erosions that led them to their current state.

The much-worse road that winds up to Cherokee Mine doesn’t have a name. At the intersection, Google Maps says only “Turn left.” Deep gravel threatened to strand the tires; cacti aimed to pierce them. At Cherokee Mine, a wild horse watched from the ridge above, still as a monument.

It was hot outside—115 degrees, much different than the morning Ray took off.

In the valley, I stopped following the wash and hiked toward the approximate place where I thought Ray went down, based on a scouring of topographic maps—matched with a picture of the saddle where the recovery helicopter had landed 53 years ago, and a close reading of descriptions from Mahood’s and Krans’s adventures. I scampered up another hill, around its side, back down, up another, and then back to the wash to survey again.

Finally, from the elevation where I started, I saw above me a stick-like object poking up out of a rock just one ridge over. No, I thought. That’s a dead tree. But next to the wood, there it was: a matte black pole poking from the rock, a sculpture at its top. I had been right next to it, just like Krans was when he found the debris field, the remnants of humans past blending within the landscape.

When I reached the spot, a low buzzing came from the scaled-down plane. The wind was sliding across the open ends of its engine housings. Krans didn’t intend for that to happen; it’s just how moving air and open pipes work. “It almost brings a tear to your eye, doesn’t it?” Krans asks me later.

It did. I started thinking of Ray, falling to Earth. Here. Of a secret death to go with his secret life.

Drilled into the rock next to the memorial is a metal sign: Walter L. Ray, it says, the words welded into the plaque. In service of his country, 5 Jan 1967.

Past the Oxcart, there were no other signs of humans. No evidence of their aerospace achievements, wars cold or hot, lives, or deaths. Only this miniaturized A-12, whose silhouette sits stark against scrubby plants—its nose pointed toward Home Plate.

An Army-green ammo box sits nearby, bolted down and hosting notes from those few who’ve visited. Along with a laminated printout of Ray’s story, there’s a handwritten page from Krans, addressed to Ray. “I will always have a beer for you and the boys,” it says. “You guys earned it. And after the Roadrunners organization is gone, know that the memory will live on.”

The Roadrunners are getting older. The last reunion at the time this was written in 2021, which Krans attended, happened in 2015. After that, there weren’t enough of them left. One year at the Nevada Aerospace Hall of Fame annual banquet, which has become something of a makeshift reunion for Roadrunners and their associates, Frank Murray, an A-12 pilot himself, came up to Krans and shook his hand. “You make us remember,” Murray told him.

Memories of their time inside Area 51 are, in fact, all the Roadrunners have of that ghost-like period of their lives. “None of us has ever got to go back out there,” says Barnes. “Once you leave, you’re gone.”

Sarah Scoles is a freelance science journalist and regular Popular Science contributor, who’s been writing for the publication since 2014. She covers the ways that science and technology interact with societal, corporate, and national security interests.

[kellshaw]

Author Ask Tag Game!

I'm knee-deep in edits at the moment on Book Two of the Revenant Records, so haven't been able to write all the Deep and Meaningful posts I wanted to. So I'm playing a tag game!

So this open tag came via an open tag @nonsenseramble via @mthollowell-writes reblog.

(Am I doing this right? Should I reblog, reply or just post separately with tags?)

This is about the current book I'm editing at the moment.

What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it? It's about accepting things, moving on, gaining wisdom. Lukie was murdered twenty years ago, made a deal with a ghost lord, and returned to the living lands as an undead revenant. Having dealt with her killer, all she wants to do is go home again. But her father's got a new family now, and the magical and mundane worlds are severed from each other because of ancient rituals. When she tries to reconnect with her father, he doesn't believe it's her. Worse, she accidentally causes his soul to become trapped in the Underworld. Her attempts to get it back stir up ancient curses and malevolent forces.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)? It's a secondary world modern day setting. A lot of it is figuring out, "What would elves look like in the modern day" and "how does a hidden occult world work and what does magic look like in an age where most of it has passed?" And "what does magic look like when it's all based on pacts?" I pose a question and try to answer it in the setting. Then take out lots of extraneous world-building, leaving enough for the story to work. Also, it's also heavily inspired by all the urban fantasy tabletop rpgs we played in the 1990s/2000s. I'm working on a game for the setting, once I find the System of my Dreams (I've got through so many....) I've run a few games in the setting, and some worldbuilding comes from how the players did!

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, help readers grow as a person? Lukie leaps into things without thinking and makes decisions she thinks are the best at the time but have messy consequences. One idea was to figure out how to grow up when you're stuck at being seventeen forever? How do you escape from a mire of supernatural debt that you took on to gain the power you have? And also, how do maintain your friendship going with your former best friend from high school, after he's forced to become your guardian and control how and when you feed on souls? Especially when he's keeping secrets...

How many chapters is your story going to have? 33. There were twenty eight, but I added a POV character to flesh out a plot line that beta readers thought needed more development. It's working out.

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it? Original work. I'll stick it up on the book store fronts Amazon, Kobo, etc when it's ready.

When and why did you start writing? I've been writing since primary school, but i decided to publish shorter, urban fantasy crime/thrillers after spending years bogged down trying to write epic fantasy. I have a vast graveyard of trunk novels. Sometimes I think about revising them, but I'm working on building up fiction in my current setting first.

Do you have any words of engagement for fellow writers of Writeblr? Keep on writing. Write what you like. Find what works for you—writing every day consistently works for me.

What other writers of Tumblr do you follow? People with cool writing blogs!

Uh, do I tag people now? @anomalousfrequency @jgmartin and everyone else, you're all awesome.

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Aaron Taylor-Johnson 

full name: Callum Mendes 

nickname(s) / goes by: Callum

pronouns & gender: he/him, cis man

sexuality: bisexual 

birth date: 17/12/1990, 33

birth place: Barcelona 

arrival to merrock: 5 years ago 

housing: historical downtown in apartment 

occupation: tattoo artist 

work place: mods tattoo shop 

family: Mother Sophie and Father Juan, living abroad, sister Norah and brother Lucius 

relationship status: single 

PERSONALITY

Callum has always been kind of perfectionist, so he can easily get annoyed if something is not going his way. 

He is a perfect kind of friend as he is very understanding and supportive. 

Callum is usually very stubborn so sometimes it might be hard to convince him otherwise, even when he's not right. 

WRITTEN BY: Tina (she/her), gmt.

BACKGROUND / BIO

triggering / sensitive content: alcohol/drug abuse in past.

Callum was born in Barcelona and lived there for a few years. Then his parents decided to move to England, where he was actually growing up. He liked to live there, despite of the weather, at least when he was younger. He was good in school even though he wasn't  really ambitious. Callum was showing his perfectionism even when he was a teenager. He was very talented for the arts and music, so he always knew he will do something close to that.

When he was in school, he used to go to the classes of singing and he knows how to play piano and guitar. Although he liked the music and playing the instruments, it was more of his mother wish then his own. His mum was always dreaming about being a famous singer or pianist, which wasn't Callum's dream at all. He was still attending the classes and played in the school as well as long as it will make his mum happy.

Callum really grew up being very close to both of his parents, as well as his brother Lucius and sister Norah. His childhood and school days were more than happy and he couldn't ever ask for more. Despite of that, he did have drug problem as well as alcohol problem. It happened because of people who were hanging out with him and he just didn't want to be different. That really disappoint his parents in a way, although they are still there for him.

He never went to rehab, but he stopped it as it wasn't doing any good for him. Then he decided to attend the classes to become a professional tattoo artist. As he was very talented in arts, he found it very easy and he loves to do tattoos. His mum thought he would go on a music path, but Callum really thought this is the best decision for him.

He moved to Merrock 5 years ago, together with his brother and sister. He is now planning to open his own tattoo shop and live his life to a fullest. The job is going great, but his love life is a kind of a mess. Before he moved, he was in a long relationship with a guy who hurt him a lot. That is why Callum doesn't want to get involved with anyone, unless it is a friendship.  

[amarhastings]

google doc ・ connections ・ pinterest ・ playlist

STATS

full name: amar hastings

nickname(s): am (only by a selected few, most people call him hastings or amar)

age/date of birth: 33 / october 6th, 1990

zodiac sign: libra ☼ capricorn ☾ taurus ↑

gender identity: cis male (he/him)

face claim: dev patel

place of birth: oxford, england

current location: fairford, wa

neighborhood: mountainside

sexual orientation: pansexual

relationship status: single

occupation: businessman

education level: mba in business

fears: heights

hobbies: driving, gardening, reading, crafting

languages spoken: english, hindi, french, punjabi, italian and spanish

height: 6'2

instruments played: piano, french horn, violin

tattoos: none (yet)

piercings: none

labels: the soiled dove, the benefactor

positive traits: earnest, reliable, dedicated, meticulous, articulate

negative traits: secretive, unyielding, workaholic, resentful, argumentative

favorite color: depends (for clothing is neutral colors, for decorations a wam orange/brown pallet— he tends to graviatate towards that pallet more when it comes to most things)

favorite food: italian food

allergies: none

right or left-handed?: right-handed

parents: aadhira bhatt (oncologist), thomas hastings (ceo), amber hastings (step mother/real estate mogul)

sibling(s): tba hastings

pet(s): a 5 year old golden retriever that used to belong to his late fianceé

TL;DR

tw: death mention

was born in london to a single mother who tried her darn best to raise him to be a good man while also continuing her higher education to become an oncologist, dad didn't knew about him until he was 3 but once he did, he took care of him. comes from a rich family (on his dad's side), is expected to inherit the family's company and he pretty much handles half of it since it moved to america under his care. had a fiance, richard, who was a fairford local who tragically passed away a few years ago.

HEADCANONS

his family means SO much to him, he'd do anything for them, esp his mom (who now lives in california)

has a proper english accent that he absolutely claims not to have

he's not shy per se, he loves meeting people and making friends, but he has a hard time actually letting people in/learning to trust

he's a charmer by nature, though he claims he isn't. and claims to have no game— he does.

business was never something he wanted to do himself, instead something that was chosen for him. had it been his decision, amar would be either a historian or a psychiatrist (something he may do in the future, who knows? 👀)

loves art: music, painting, litrature... all of it, big advocate. sucks at each and every one of them but he is drawn to those who excell at them

okay he is still mourning so he hasn't done much of it in a while but man knows how to party. he is very reserved and proper most of the time but when there's an opportunity to party he. turns. up. and he can DANCE

hopeless romantic through and through

technologically challenged (he TRIES though, technology is just against him half of the time)

CONNECTIONS

sibling(s) (wc on main soon)

family of his late fianceé

maybe family of his own?

friends he met when his fianceé was still alive

family friends

neighbors

best friend(s)

possible love interest (?)

flirtationships

(future) fwb?

enemies

business rivals/friends

maybe future business partners?

literally anything, the sky is the limit and he is very easy going i promise!