#i still need to plan postcard legacy

[aurorangen]

Riku playing cupid!

[teadreamsims]

Okie dokie guys, there's been a change in plan

As you know, I was going to start playing and posting the Human Enough challenge here on my blog. However, after much thought I have made the decision not to do this. I just started not enjoying it the moment I started playing it when thinking about how I needed to get screenshots for tumblr and make it look good and interesting.

Instead, I am considering posting gameplay shots from the Postcard Legacy Challenge that I've been playing in my spare time. It won't start from the beginning bc I'm halfway done with the first gen, and there likely won't be LOTS of posts bc I like having it as the thing I play away from tumblr, but I've been having so much fun that I wanna show yall what I've been up to.

It's still smth I'm thinking about so no guarantees, but yeah!

[starthetripledevil]

Mario Legacy Challenge: 1987 (Part 2)

Jumpman has already gone to multiple different locations with the circus this year. Things haven't gone wrong since Donkey Kong's escape at the end of 1985. But this particular destination, located in a jungle, may prove to be different.

Donkey Kong Junior has been looking for his father ever since the latter went missing nearly four years ago. Now he has finally found a clue: a circus with a giant picture of his father to advertise its upcoming show. Finally, after all this time, he is close to reuniting with his father.

The circus used in the following screenshots is by seeker_ban_ra on the gallery (idk if the username is still accurate as the source I'm using is a screenshot from June).

The young gorilla makes his way to the circus. There is no show going on at the moment, so not that many people around. Now his goal is to find his father as soon as possible.

The owner of he circus, Harrison Gibbs, is painting some kind of advertisement for the circus. Next to him, we see postcards from various locations the circus has visited.

Jumpman is in charge of guarding Donkey Kong to make sure he doesn't escape. He feels very dedicated to work right now. There's no way something could possibly go wrong tonight, right?

Donkey Kong Junior has found the one keeping his father captive. Now he needs to figure out how to free his father.

Jumpman goes to Harrison and asks what the plan is. They come up with the following plan: Jumpman takes Donkey Kong to the jungle, making sure to keep him captive the entire time. The rest of the circus tries to keep the smaller gorilla from finding them.

Jumpman does as he is told, but after some time, the younger gorilla discovers them. Now begins the plot of Donkey Kong Jr.

Jumpman may try to escape with the gorilla, but no matter how much he tries, Junior keeps catching up to him. And with all that time spent guarding the gorilla, he is starting to get hungry. Clearly this plan isn't working.

Jumpman returns to the circus (still making sure to keep DK captive) and tells Harrison exactly what has happened. He also predicts that the small gorilla will be here soon.

Harrison and Jumpman discuss what to do. For Harrison, the worst part of all this is that they will have to cancel today's show. This, of course, also means losing out on money.

The two have come up with a new plan. Jumpman will take DK to a hideout, a building located across the water. Jumpman can go there with a helicopter, and with water in the way, there's no way Junior can actually catch them, right? Meanwhile, Harrison attempts to distract the small gorilla.

Jumpman is worried. What if this plan goes horribly wrong? After all, things are already going wrong.

And, of course, Donkey Kong Jr. has already caught up to them. Time to escape.

Harrison attempts to keep DK Jr. from figuring out where Jumpman is heading, but he's not able to stop the gorilla for long.

DK Jr. might be smaller than his father, but the sizes of these dogs shown in The Sims 4 are way smaller than the true sizes.

Harrison has been injured in his attempt at stopping DK Jr. At least this time, he has been much more helpful than when Donkey Kong escaped from the circus two years earlier.

Now he has to follow Donkey Kong Junior. The smaller gorilla can't go to the hideout!

Jumpman has made it to the building. Surely there's no way the smaller gorilla can get here, right? And even if he does, he'll have a hard time freeing his father. (I know there's no cage in these screenshots, but really, you can just assume that everything actually looks more like in the Donkey Kong Jr. game.)

Bad news for Jumpman: Junior has managed to follow him to the hideout. He even made it past the river.

The only thing Jumpman can still do is fight. Maybe throwing obstacles will drive the smaller gorilla away. But it doesn't work. Junior is very determined to free his father.

Meanwhile, in Brooklyn...

Mario, Luigi and Pauline are back home from school. Mario and Luigi seem to be especially impressed by how good the local school is. They seem to be having a great day.

They have no idea that somewhere else, things are going horribly wrong.

Mario decides to try playing basketball... he may be too young to enter the actual court though, since he's only near it.

Pauline is having a casual conversation with her neighbor Emmalyn. Pauline used to have a grudge against her, but now the two actually get along.

Harrison follows Junior as quickly as he can, attempting to warn Jumpman, or help him, or something... but it's too late!

When Donkey Kong Junior freed his father, he also broke the building in the process, causing Jumpman to fall all the way from the tallest point of the building.

Harrison is in shock. He can't believe what just happened. He is starting to regret everything. He should have never insisted on capturing a gorilla for the circus. He should have never insisted on keeping the gorilla captured! Now one of his employees is dead.

The Kongs escape, eventually making their way back to Kong Island. It was never their intention to kill, just to get out of there.

On his way back home, Donkey Kong also ends up sabotaging the greenhouse of some guy named Stanley, but this isn't really relevant to the Marios' story.

With what just happened, there is no way Harrison can continue running the circus. He keeps thinking about how horrible of a mistake this all was.

Harrison makes his way to Brooklyn and tells Jumpman's family the sad news.

And with this, generation 1 of the Mario Legacy Challenge is over. Taking over is the heir Mario Mario Junior, who is the Mario from the Mario series, so Gen 2 will most likely feature more familiar characters than any other generation.

For the rest of 1987, see this post.

[amethyxtnix]

Hello Everyone!

This simblr is still new (only one month old) but I've posted CAS lookbook challenges and the gameplay of my current legacy challenge (The Postcard Legacy Challenge).

I am planning to do more legacy challenges (I have 3 lined up already) and planning to post the builds that I will do in the future.

I would like to get to know more other fellow simmers out there and to fill up my dash with anything sims related. So please like/retweet this post. I am in need of friends too so I will be following :D

[kaijuuryoku]

Men of their word.

The signal of the last trial manifests itself in the most radiant beam of light ever seen, just above the centre of the judgement plaza, where those who once were exiles come back to their people once more. Amidst the shining curtain of the Shimmer-pool, a crackle, and then a booming wave of dust washes the light away. The cloud settles. An enormous shadow stands over it. White haired demon of a man, in a golden mantle draped over a blue-and-red shawl, powerful set of horns, and skin darkened by the years waiting in the deserts of the exile.

He walks a few steps, and then collapses on his knees.

An ash-colored sap comes running to his aid. Soon, they embrace.

“I told you that one time…” whispers Oralech… “I would see you here or there, once again.”

“I know,” sobs Volfred, “I knew you were a man of your word.”

***

The alcove whitened under the slowly falling snow. The dark evening accentuated by the cold, had a single dot of roaring and warm red. The hearth besides the Blackwagon, with wood piled up high, provides a bit of solace against the incoming storm. Right on the top of the stockpile, full of stones and lumber, rests a very satisfied Ti’zo, smiling and tired. At the first sign of his trembling sleep, Tariq walks towards the little imp, and leaves his hat over the quivering body of the true winner of the match, with enough care that he can breathe. When Tariq turns around, he finds himself observed by Volfred, curious and smiling, and by Oralech, stifling poorly a laugh

-         “I would say that you need your hat, Minstrel, since it’s confusing to ask where does the white of your head end and where does the snow start.” Volfred quips and Oralech loses control. His booming laughter is contagious enough for Tariq to trace a smile in his pale face.

-         “Ti’zo earned this small boon.” Tariq sighs. “We wouldn’t want to make our little star of the night sick due to this cold day. Even Erisa felt the brunt of the weather up here, as she is finally fast asleep in the Blackwagon. The night promises an even colder time.”

-         “You’re not wrong. Oralech, please fetch something to stoke the fires higher.”

Oralech, still smiling, ambles to the stockpile and brings out four of the biggest logs he can carry, throws them in the flame unceremoniously, and returns to the stone where he was sitting. A small pleasant silence fills the atmosphere, as the fire soon grows and rages. The storm placates, and the three men envelop themselves in their coats. Oralech and Volfred bundle together, the fire reflecting in their eyes.  Tariq brings out a lute and plays a small song, the one about Plurnes.

-         “You know… I think I’m going to miss Brighton dearly, all in all.” Oralech says with sadness.

-         “We all will.” Tariq replies “But he earned his reprieve.”

-         “And you will soon follow him.” Volfred adds. “Perhaps you will regain the chance to practice medicine, even.”

-         “That’s somewhat a relief, if I’m honest!” Oralech beams with the chance, and the flame shines in his eye. “I’m afraid I could lose my healing skill… I only practiced on the battlefield. It’s not the same to be able to attend wounded soldiers, with a permanent sense of urgency, than to bring health to a child. I would very much like that.”

Volfred pulls his head lower into his coat. A tinge of bitterness in his eyes betrays the signal of fear and loss he might experience, but beyond that, a feeling that he may not be able to conceal anymore.

-         “I would also like to return to the city, too… but I would be always afraid. Even if I were to be free, the literacy ban would just eventually return me to this place.”

-         “If I were there, I would protect you. That’s why I think I need to return before any of us returns. I must protect those that would be sent to the downside for reading.” Oralech insists with fervor, looking at the diminished sap with interest.

-         “Then you would be sent back too. You know how the ranks of the military are. You’ve told me before.”

Oralech is overcome by a cold anger. His memories come flashing by, uncalled. His eyes set on the flaring coals.

-         “Forget the high ranks. I believe it is unfair how our soldiers die for the pleasure of older men who don’t see blood in their lives. Young men run a thousand miles to make war, in the name of people who wouldn’t walk ten meters to sit and talk with their enemies. I wonder how many wars would have been prevented if the great generals had made the right call at the right time… They enforce the literacy ban to make themselves necessary. Many years I wondered if the highway remnants were right when they attacked us, but now I’ve roamed this land, this endless desert, and now I believe their generals may not be that different. Fools, all of them. I damn them for sending us here.”

He stops to catch his breath. Volfred moves with his hand a strand of the brown mop of hair away from the man’s eyes. Tariq’s song switches to a slightly livelier tune about the old king.

-         “I’m sorry that you feel that way. I understand your motivations, but a single nightingale won’t make our summer. We’ll need more of us up there”

-         “So you agree with me, Volfred?”

-         “Oralech, I told all about you my revolutionary plan. Of course, I agree with you. However, it requires both time, and faith. Faith in ourselves and faith in others to come.”

-         “What do you mean by that?”

-         “He states the obvious, Oralech.” Interrupts Tariq while still aptly playing. “The Nightwings are a barely working team as it stands right now. You are four. Were you to leave, that would make them three. Erisa, Volfred, and the Great Star, Ti’zo. What would happen were both you and Volfred disappear from the Downside?”

Volfred sits up straighter, and Oralech hunches back a bit.

-         “The Nightwings would disappear.”

-         “That’s very much right.” Tariq agrees with his small smile disappearing. “Volfred is Right. You need to set a legacy.”

-         “And that will not be done by us sitting here wondering how to fix our situation upside, and not thinking of our remaining days here.” Volfred pleads. “The stars dictate our path, but that means we must grow. That is our purpose, here. To bring everyone under our wing and protect them. I want us to be more than the team that oversees and judges of the future liberation. I want us to be also a symbol of hope.”

-         “But it will take time, and I might be discovered.” Oralech mumbles. “They might kill me. They might kill you. We need safety in numbers and in position.”

-         “I know, but that’s why we need the plan.” Volfred turns and grabs Oralech by his hand. “We’re little more than aggrandized sphinxes, asking for others to solve our riddle. We must be on the proposing side. We must come to the light, and face it undaunted. If we do things right, I’m sure we will find each other eventually. I will be there. I will rejoin you.”

-         “I’d hate to wait. Were you not to come, I’d seek you, and I’d find you, and I’d berate you for taking so much of my time.”

The two of them look at each other happily, and they recline one into the other. A thought crosses the mind of Oralech: a question he now gets the chance to answer.

-         “Tariq. You’ve seen most of our wars, have you not?”

-         “I have, though not gladly nor by choice. I do get to see their sons.”

-         “What is your take on them?”

The music stops. The lute master opens his coat and produces a green, ethereal crystal, and looks deep into it. His voice is soft, and yet, it reaches into them as if he were right beside them.

-         “I think nothing of wars, though I hate conflict. It’s easy to hate something that you can see, feel or touch, but wars, to someone forced to be in the sideline, are a shapeless thing. A mass of cut limbs, sad people, and strewn tears. In the beginning, all I could think of was how lucky I was to be paired with someone whom I love so profusely…” Tariq looks at the summit longingly. “But now, even love has become a medium line. It is what I breathe, what I live, and what I am. When you are eternally happy in your station, you see others justifying themselves in the horrors they perpetuate through the power of their love, and you ask yourself if the nature of love is one alone. Can we really be driven to war because we love too much? Is our love of our country dangerous? The territory, the people, the culture… is this a valid excuse to snuff one another? I soon saw that only the dumb believe in a destructive love. They are not ready for real love, and so, they hate, and they despair, and that is what they bring to others.”

He looks at the couple, and sees them in fear.

-         “That is why I enjoy love in purity and simplicity. Love in the form of a postcard, a good meal, the commonality of community. I enjoy being with you, and I will ride it out with you for a little while more, if you allow me. That is, until I must return to Celeste.”

-         “You’re always welcome.” Volfred responds.

-         “And even if we lose each other… We will meet whenever the stars align.” Oralech agrees.

***

“Have the stars aligned, my dear?” Oralech asks innocently.

“I will see them once your eyes stop shining bright.” Volfred Replies.

“Took me long enough to find you, but Tariq is not with me…”

“I know, and it saddens me, but now, it’s up to him to find us.”

Fin. **************************************************************************

I really hope they appreciate it. I’m not a very good writer, so I took extra effort and it took some time in the making, so, as luck would have it, here it goes. @Venhediss

@supergiantsecretsanta

[circe-poetica]

COMMUNITY

8

Essential meanings: Community; belonging; being seen and understood by others; like-minded connections; a sense of family and friendship; knowing your place in the world.

The Oracle's Message: This card signals that a new group of like-minded people is entering your life now. Humans are social creatures, and we need to know we are useful to our families and communities. In a community, everyone has an important function and feels “I matter.” Membership in the group provides a sense of belonging, of family, and of purpose that comes from working together for the greater fulfillment of all. Perhaps you are part of a spiritual community, or an artistic one. Perhaps you are in a learning community where you share your love of education. Regardless of its form or focus, you will feel good about your community. You will be inspired by it and want to contribute to it. Your contribution may be as small as showing up or as large as becoming its leader. No matter your position in the tribe, your presence is needed.

Relationship message: You’re in a place of discovering the essential aspects that you share with another—and perhaps also those you don’t share. There are times when you follow and the other person leads, and times when you lead and the other follows. The appearance of this card points to the importance of learning the proper “dance” between you and another. Accepting the truth that everyone has flaws is part of that dance. Yet you are also being asked you to be aware of the dynamics that you don’t want to repeat. You’re in the perfect place to make changes in order to experience the best version of who you are together.

Prosperity message: Whenever you’re in a community of like-minded others, there is a powerful opportunity to reap great abundance. It’s essential to ask, What can I contribute? rather than What can I get from this? Find a need and look to fill it. Something meaningful will manifest. Even if what manifests is small, it is a sign that the doors of opportunity will swing open wider. There is also another meaning of this card to consider: Don’t try to be all things to all people. Choose your role and be true to it, and serve from a sense of authenticity. There is no greater sense of accomplishment than knowing you have purpose.

A CHANGE IN THE WIND

12

Essential meanings: A sense that unseen change has been initiated; preparation for a storm; awareness that your plans are not on firm ground; feeling a shift; uncertainty about which direction the winds will blow.

The Oracle's Message: We all yearn for certainty and resist change. It’s human nature to want the world to remain consistent like a zebra’s stripes. Yet nothing in our experience is black and white, nor will anything remain static. The one thing we are guaranteed is change. Now is a time of transformation as outer conditions are temporarily moving out of sync with your desires and expectations. Stay curious and remember even storms serve to clear the air, scatter seeds, and nourish the soil for better things ahead. Life is about to get interesting. Anticipate it with curiosity as you wonder what is coming in on the shifting winds. The unknown is where the magic lies.

Relationship message: Relationships go through periods where partners seem out of sync with each other and stormy emotions and moods threaten to take down the ship. Perhaps someone has a change of heart and leaves. Changes offer opportunities for mutual growth, a way for you to understand your own heart better and to know what you need to make you truly happy. Rest assured that whatever is happening now, good will come from it. Take temporary shelter and remove yourself from drama. The air will clear, and everything will be fresh and new again. This, too, shall pass.

Prosperity message: As you endeavor to create a prosperous life, you may encounter unexpected shifts that cause you to reverse directions. This is a good thing, so there is nothing to fear. Perhaps an opportunity you sought went to someone else. Perhaps you’ve pursued something that you suddenly realize is not in your highest good. You might not be 100 percent clear on where you need to go, but you are certain that things are not going as planned. Circumstances are not in your control right now. Wait it out. All will be well—even better, actually. Trust.

REGENERATION

REGENERATION

Essential meanings: Rebirth; second chances; new opportunities.

The Oracle's Message: Second chances are available to you now. Whatever opportunities you thought were dead are springing forth with new life, in a more authentic, stronger, and more powerful form. Whatever you may have perceived as a failure or loss is now being replaced by something better than you can imagine growing in its place. This rebirth is assured. Step into your new life. Destiny is being fulfilled in wondrous ways.

Relationship message: The world is based on connections and relationships. No matter what has happened in the past or even now for loss, death and endings are only illusions. There is life after death, love after loss, and in this moment, you are blooming with the regenerating life-force energy that makes you irresistible to love in all forms. Now is the time that you will see evidence of this new emergence. Can you feel it? Love is rising up to greet you.

Prosperity message: What happens when it appears that you’ve failed at something? Do you see the beauty in the lesson? The understanding that comes from difficulties is like a seed that lies dormant for a time. Then, when the time is right, new life begins to spring forth. Success begins to bloom and delight you. It is becoming apparent that there is a new you, a new start. There is a more powerful version and form of what you began to plant in the garden of your imagination. New opportunities are much better than those that came before and appear as if as a gift from the gods. Now is one of those times when out of seeming loss and failure comes remarkable abundance. Do not dwell on the past because you really are experiencing a rebirth.

The JOURNEY

29

THE MEDICINE: The journey is calling you, but the timing is premature. Collecting postcards or fantasies of where you want to go may take over your focus and make you miss your destiny. Other things must be completed first, or you may still be attached to knowing the destination. Remember that the point of the journey is not the destination; it’s who you will become as you are transformed along the way. Do not confuse the inner and the outer journey.

The GHOST DANCE

22

THE ESSENCE: The Ghost Dance of the American Plains Indians united the spirits of the living with those of the ancestors to bring peace to the world. When the ancestors are honored, they bring harmony to us. When we hold them responsible for all that is wrong with us today, they haunt us. Honor the spirits of the ancestors and receive their lessons and gifts. This includes honoring your own past lives!

THE INVITATION: The ancestors have a message of healing and a powerful medicine to offer you. Create a sacred moment at your altar, light a candle to them, and let their wisdom infuse you. At this stage in your life, you are done repeating their tragic stories. Step into the abundance that is offered to you, receive the gifts of those that have come before you, and write a new story for your life.

The CURSE

14

THE ESSENCE: The Curse refers to the limiting stories of our ancestors, and the karma from former lifetimes that preordains the events of our lives. It is the source of negative patterns, and it can show up as a disease, a destructive force, or a blockage on our creative energy. The curse holds us hostage to a false story that we confuse for reality. Recognizing the original wound that is playing out in our life can heal it.

THE INVITATION: It is time to recognize the source of your limitations. Did your grandparents live with a mind-set of scarcity? Did you inherit genes for heart disease? Were you a slave or a master in a past life? This karmic legacy is ready and waiting to be seen, to be untangled, and to be released. Honor the players and their stories. Forgive everyone and everything. Craft a new life course for yourself!

[larksinging]

i might as well go ahead and post this tonight and stop fussing about it. a while back @rorykillmore suggested “margot/alana but killing eve au” as a shitpost but the idea kind of stuck with me so. here you go

this is kind of tonally a mess because how do you even balance those two tones, stuff has been condensed for time, and characters are assigned kind of haphazardly but.... (shrug.jpg) enjoy??? this is just part one, the rest will come. later. uhh trigger warning for just the stuff you’d expect 

heres the ao3 crosspost

Beverly leans over to her conspiratorially. “Twenty bucks said it was one of the victim’s dads.”

Alana thinks she should be offended, but she’s too absorbed in the idea. “No, it was definitely a woman.”

“Really?” Bev looks at her. “Alright. I’ll take that bet.”

It’s not that Margot doesn’t have the nerve to kill. In fact, that’s the only part of this equation she really has down. After all, there are worse things than killing. And she’ll do what she has to do.

Whatever stops her from killing Mason isn’t the act itself. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s some twisted ounce of familial loyalty from the most fucked up part of her psyche. Maybe it’s a lack of practice. But it’s definitely not the idea of killing.

Mason doesn’t forgive her. Or rather, he doesn’t consider her enough of a person to be angry, so forgiveness isn’t necessary. He just sends her off to a psychiatrist. He even pretends to let her pick one.

On first impression, Dr. Lecter is like any other psychiatrist. She plans to scare him by being too honest, makes an internal bet with herself how long before he refers her. So color her shocked when, in the first sessions, he tells her that killing Mason would’ve been therapeutic.

A couple sessions later, she reveals that pesky little detail in the will, and why killing Mason is a bad idea. Hannibal just looks at her with his inscrutable eyes.

“You could make a life outside the Verger fortune,” He suggests.

She pretends to pause thoughtfully. “Mason would have me followed if I tried to run.”

“Surely you can come up with a way around that.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Things that are worth it rarely are,” Hannibal says with a silent smile in his voice.

One day, it builds up again. After one of her sessions, she drives home with murder on the mind. She creeps up the stairs towards his bedroom, a knife in one hand and the intention to butcher him like his precious pigs weighing heavy on her. The sound muffled voices, deep and dark against Mason’s sickly bright laugh, kills her nerve.

Margot can’t take his guests, if she could even take her brother. She shuts down before she can feel the sting of defeat, and instead hastily packs her bags before Mason can notice.

When she gets to driveway, Hannibal’s standing there.

“You couldn’t do it,” He remarks as he notices the clean knife still in her fist. “That’s alright. Every skill requires some practice to build up confidence.”

She just stares at him.

“You seem desperate. Do you want a new life, Margot? ” He smiles without his eyes. “We’ll have to fake your death first. No worries. It’s quite simple.”

Hannibal holds out a hand in a silent offer and, for once, Margot doesn’t have the urge to bite. Not him, at least.

The Verger legacy is built upon slaughter. Really, she’s just going into the family business.

Her new life isn’t what most people would consider pleasant, but it’s much better. Her job comes easily to her, as she’s already practiced in all the compartmentalization she needs. She uses her money to rent a big apartment and buy fancy dresses. On her days off, she finds pretty girls at bars to occupy her, even if she sends them away half the time.

Her only real friend is Hannibal, and even then, he’s more of a work friend. She finds him weird, and pretentious, and often condescending. She’s pretty sure he finds her spoiled and insolent. Of course, nobody in the killing business is all the pleasant.

The day goes like any other: she’s lounging on her couch when Hannibal knocks, and then lets himself in. He invites her to dinner, she politely refuses, he hands her a postcard with the details are hidden in code.

“Your train leaves later tonight,” He says curtly.

“What’s the matter? Ignored by your favorite again?” She doesn’t actually know the name of his favorite, but she knows it’s not her, and she knows Hannibal gets sulky about him. It’s an easy target.

“It’s not very becoming to pry, Margot.” The alias she picked is Magnolia, which is pretentious and stupid but she might as well indulge if she’s an assassin, but it’s hard to get used to it when he won’t even call her that.

“I heard he enjoys fishing. Do you cook fish as well as you cook... pork?”

He doesn’t respond, as if he doesn’t want to sink to her level. She’ll consider it a win anyways. “I think you’ll enjoy this one,” Hannibal says, and leaves.

Sure enough, when she looks up the mark, it’s some asshole father. Those are some of her favorites. One of theirs gone rogue and turned to serial killing girls who look like his daughter. Just the thing to cheer her up.

Normally Alana doesn’t do this sort of thing. She defers politely to the FBI when she needs, gives Jack the referrals he needs. It’s what she did with Will, and with Hannibal. But this time he’d asked her to come in for a witness, poor daughter of a victim, he could use someone to keep an eye on her just until someone figures out where to send her.

Of course, she can smell ulterior intentions a mile away. Jack has a way of doing that. But sure -- she doesn’t doubt the girl could use some help.

When she actually stops by, Jack manages to just happen on catching her in the hallway. While she’s here, maybe she could help out? He could use another opinion on this case, if she could just take a crack at profiling.

Alana represses a sigh, figure it’ll give Will a break from this sort of thing, and follows Jack to where he’s got the evidence put up. Will’s not there, good, but the room isn’t empty -- Hannibal’s looking it over too, and Beverly and the boys are already in a hum of speculative conversation.

It’s a strange case, to be sure. Dying had outed the victim as a serial killer they’d been tracking. She can’t say she’s too broken up about his death, but the professionalism of the kill is alarming. Almost in broad daylight.

Beverly leans over to her conspiratorially. “Twenty bucks said it was one of the victim’s dads.”

Alana thinks she should be offended, but she’s too absorbed in the idea. “No, it was definitely a woman.”

“Really?” Bev looks at her. “Alright. I’ll take that bet.”

Then she realizes the room has fallen silent and turned to them. Jack and Hannibal both watch her. “What did you say?” Jack asks.  

“That the killer was a woman.” She fights back a defensive streak. “He was targeting young women. If the killer matched his victim profile, he’d be too busy thinking of her as prey to consider her a threat.”

“Interesting theory,” says Hannibal.

The pay from her last job had gone to some luxurious new sheets. Well, in part -- she’d had to use part of her advance to buy a new outfit. She needed to blend in at the opera, after all. Good thing she hadn’t gotten blood on it. Margot rewards herself by sprawling out on her bed like a cat.

Hannibal knocks, enters, and doesn’t bother to invite her to dinner. She sits up and waits for the lecture.

“The bad news is that your stunt with the Minnesota Shrike has drawn the attention of the FBI.”

“Is that what they’re calling him?” Margot doesn’t bother to sound worried.

“The worst news is that your stunt at the opera left a witness.” He waits the right amount of seconds to try and fish a reaction out of her. She doesn’t rise to the bait. “It seems our cello player had a friend.”

“Unfortunate.”

“You need to be more careful, Margot,” Hannibal chides, “Or they’re going to catch you.”

“They won’t. I’m rather good.”

“They might.” He pulls a postcard out of his jacket. “The witness is staying at a hospital overnight. It’s a chance for some spring cleaning.” He glances around her apartment. “You could certainly use some.”

As if she could care any less about his veiled digs at her style. Good thing she’s never tried to cook for him. “I haven’t had time to do much organization. I’ve been too busy, you see.”

Hannibal isn’t amused. He begins to leave, but pauses a few steps away from the door. “Oh, and Margot?” “Hm?” “Make it look like a suicide.”

“It’s a shame about your theory,” Hannibal says without looking at her as Jack’s pouring over the Tobias Budge case. “The CCTV came in. The killer was clearly a man.”

“What?” Alana turns to look at him, and then to Jack. “Yesterday you told me there was no CCTV.”

“It must have come in yesterday,” Jack says, clearly disinterested. “I told Will to look it over if it did. I assume he told Dr. Lecter here.”

“It was a good guess,” Hannibal says with a smile. “But it occurred near the hospital where Dr. Chilton works, didn’t it? You know how the good doctor feels about maintaining surveillance.”

“Aren’t you going to take a look at it yourself, Jack?” None of this is sitting right with her. She can’t quite put her finger on it. “If this is related to the opera case--”

“Not unless there’s footage from the opera house too,” He responds curtly. “There’s not proof they’re connected. I’m more worried about maintaining protective custody for the main witness.”

Alana remembers distinctly Will mentioning the witness being admitted to the hospital. The same one Abigail’s at.  “I’m going to go check up on Abigail,” She says.

“Should we have brought flowers or... something?” Abigail glances over at her as Alana slows to a stop outside the hospital room.

“That’s-- a good idea,” She replies. It’s not like her for these things to slip her mind. It’s a bad sign when a serial killer’s daughter is more on point with social niceties than her. Especially since poor Franklyn laying in the hospital bed in the next room doesn’t have any flowers or balloons or anything to indicate having been visited, save for the agents providing protection. “Why don’t you go see what you can find?”

Abigail shuffles off to find a store or at least a vending machine, and Alana opts to stop by the restroom to try and clear her head a bit.

Alana runs her hands through her hair and wonders what the hell she’s even doing here. If Jack hadn’t seemed so eager to drop it, would she care so much? She stares at her reflection in the mirror as if it will answer.

Maybe it’s her own restlessness. She senses a change in the air lately that she can’t recognize. The feeling gripes her and as an idle reflex she pauses halfway through running her hand through her hair to imagine how it would look with a haircut.

A woman emerges just then from one of the stalls and takes her place at the only other mirror, only a few feet away. They catch each other’s gaze in the corner of their eyes and look at each other.

There’s something striking about this woman, even if she’s just in nurse scrubs. If Alana’s a flower in the middle of winter, all gentle curling against the sharp edge of snow, then this woman is like a cherry tree just after the bloom. The ghost of something soft and beautiful.

Alana’s too caught up in feeling poetic to look away. The stranger doesn’t either. “Are you alright?” She asks, though it’s not like she’s not staring too.

The woman doesn’t answer. Her eyes catch where Alana’s hand is still lingering in her hair.

“Cut it short,” She encourages, and then leaves the room as if she was never there.

Of course, Alana doesn’t think much about it after she gets the call from Beverly that there was no CCTV and the bloodbath she walks out into only moments later.

Everything from there is a bit of a blur. People sit her down at clean tables in dim rooms and tell her the facts like she doesn’t know. Five people dead, including the witness, Abigail was in danger, what were you thinking? Jack tells her in his professionally gentle voice that you won’t be advising on this case anymore, and Hannibal adds maybe you should stop seeing patients for a while. Of course. Of course.

It’s not until Jack shows up at her doorstep, well after dark, that things come into focus. Not that it makes any more sense.

“Do you need anything at the store?” He stands awkwardly on the step, a little too close to be polite. “Maybe some milk?”

“What?”

Jack just smiles and dips his head to indicated that she should follow. Alana fumbles her keys locking the door and follows him in a half-daze to the nearby market. They make it to the dairy isle and Jack leans against a shelf, idly pawing a carton of milk.

“What is this actually about?” Alana has the composure to ask.

He doesn’t answer immediately. “I can’t officially condone you continuing the investigation,” He says. “But if you’re still interested, maybe there’s another option.”

“Interested -- in our killer? Shouldn’t you be talking to Will, or literally anyone else?”

“You were onto something,” He says evenly. “I need that kind of intuitive. Especially when I’m limited in what I can do. I need you, Alana.”

This is probably a mistake, but she writes down the address he gives her anyway. It’s barely been 24 hours and she’s already restless.

Margot’s woken up by the sound of a polite but impatient knock. She’s already out of bed by the time the woman next to her (whatever her name is) groans. And when she gets to the door, Hannibal stands there and looks dismissively between the clothes she’d thrown on and the bed.

“Am I interrupting something?” He taunts. He catches her guest’s eye, and Margot glances back just enough to shoo her along. The woman hurried snatches up her belongings and awkwardly slinks out of the apartment. She glances back at Margot. Margot doesn’t bother to look at her.

“No,” She answers flatly. “Would you like to come in.”

Hannibal wanders into her kitchen to be safely away from the door and any curious eavesdroppers. “You were supposed to make the hospital look like a suicide,” He remarks.

“Didn’t it?” She’s already pouring herself coffee.

“So he slit his throat and removed his kidneys by himself?”

“Those were a gift. They’re in the back of the freezer, by the way. You seemed like you could use a good dinner party to cheer you up.”

“How kind of you,” He doesn’t sound amused. “I think you should take a break.”

Margot freezes. She looks up at him. “What?”

“You’ve been rather reckless lately.” Hannibal paces slowly over to the fridge to check her ‘gift’. “Do you have any idea what might have motivated you to act that way?”

Therapist-talk is only for when he’s feeling particularly dismissive and expecting her to be volatile. Well, fine. She can push back.

“I’m feeling restless,” She drawls and hops up to sit on her counter. “Maybe I need a vacation. Maryland’s supposed to be lovely this time of year.”

“Margot.” His tone is measured. “All in due time.”

“It’s been years,” She snaps. “There has to be some way that Mason’s death would benefit them, I could just stop by and--”

“Patience, Margot,” He says in that careful way that is very distinctly a threat. “You’ll never get what you want if you don’t behave.”

Honestly, Margot’s become tempted to slit the throat of everyone who tells her to behave. But the retort dies on her tongue and she simply stews in her fury while he paces closer, smug as ever, and pulls out a postcard.

“If you can do this with some subtlety, there will be no reason to worry.” She takes it stiffly from him. He pauses and backtracks to the fridge. “My sincerest thanks for the meat. Despite everything, you are my favorite butcher.”

“But not your favorite,” She adds idly.

There’s not a lot of space in this new office, but Alana will take what she can get. Beverly and Will agree to help out (it’d might be good for Will to get a chance to do something less... close, as far as she’s concerned), and Jack stops by quite often despite not being able to “officially help.”

Except Will doesn’t seem as eager when he actually arrives and sees the wall of theories and the state of this place.

“This isn’t like you, Alana,” He remarks. “What are we going on, your-- your hunch?”

“I thought Jack worked off of your hunches all the time.” Alana counters.

“That’s different. It’s not--” He sighs and gives up. “What’s gotten you so fixated on this one woman? She can’t be that important if it really is some larger conspiracy.”

“She’s our only lead to whatever this is,” Alana insists. “If we want to make any progress, we have to find her.”

That satisfies Will, or at least seems to. But Bev breaks the silence. “Right, so, where do you want us to actually start?”

“The hospital. I saw a nurse just before... before it all happened.” Alana pauses heavily. “Can you get the hospital records? Maybe she saw something.”

The next job goes by without a hitch. The mark had been so kind as to work late at his office in the hospital. Margot had even left him all torn up and dramatic, they way she knows amuses Hannibal. The media will be too busy scaremongering about serial killers to worry about assassins. Everything’s fine.

Or so she’d thought.  Hannibal enters her apartment without even knocking this time.  Margot grips a knife behind her back when she hears him come in. Her warnings that he had to knock or they wouldn’t be friends anymore is apparently worth disregarding when he’s annoyed.

“I told you to be subtle,” He sounds awfully cross.

“This will throw them off the scent,” She replies smoothly, “You’ve never cared how I do it before.”

There’s a strained silence as he eyes the knife in her hand. Then he sighs and folds his hands behind his back.

“There’s a woman leading an offshoot department of the FBI just to find you.” Hannibal fixes his gaze on her when the thrill of that idea lights in her eyes. “It’s not a good thing. We just need you to be inconspicuous until we find out what they know.”

“You underestimate me,” Margot replies. She gets out a bottle of wine from her fridge, the nice stuff that she keeps for charming women and when Hannibal comes over. She avoids his eyes when she pours him a glass. “What’s her name?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“You know me. Always curious.”

Hannibal takes his glass of wine and smells it. At length. Drawing things out before he decides to speak. “Dr. Alana Bloom.”

“Alana Bloom,” She repeats, tasting the name on her tongue.

“Doctor.” He sets the glass down again. “You’ll continue working, just be cautious.”

When he leaves, she immediately pulls out her laptop and searches for that name.

Coming in this late maybe isn’t healthy, but the mystery (or is it curiosity?) needles Alana. Beside, Bev said the files on the hospital staff would be in later tonight. It sure is later.

When she settles down at her desk, the room dark except for the blue buzz of her computer monitor, she begins the arduous task of looking through the personal files. If nothing else, monotony will kill her anxiety.

Except, with each passing face that she doesn’t recognize, something begins to dawn on her.

‘Alana Bloom’ doesn’t bring up many results. A few misplaced images of flowers, a few random people who don’t seem old enough to have a doctorate, let alone work with the FBI. When she adds on ‘doctor’, that at least brings up a group photo. Some kind of faculty picture from Georgetown. Margot opens it without really thinking.

Then she sees it. Or thinks she sees it. She zooms in, not once but twice, onto a face in the middle.

The woman’s hair is just as long and silky here as it was in the hospital bathroom.

Margot practically throws the computer away from her.

The door opens just as the realization crests over Alana. She half-startles and looks up to see Will.

“You too?” Her smirk is tinged with exhaustion and something else.

“Couldn’t sleep,” He doesn’t quite look at her. “Are you looking into an abyss, Dr. Bloom?” He’s mostly teasing.

“Not quite.” Despite everything, she finds herself repressing a smile. She shouldn’t be smiling. “I think I’ve met her.”

[azvolrien]

Berlin - Day 2

Woke up at about 8.30 after a decidedly stop-start night of sleep. The bed is very comfortable, but I never sleep all that well the first night in a hotel and someone in the next room kept having a rather loud conversation on their phone. The walls are not very soundproof.

Breakfast was a simple affair – a croissant and some orange juice from a small bakery near the hotel – before I set out for my customary First Day Explore. Anything you do twice is a tradition, right?

The first stop on my list was the famous Fernsehturm, Berlin’s highest point and one of the GDR’s more impressive engineering legacies. I got there early enough that there was barely even a queue. The lift up to the observation deck is incredibly fast – it goes at something like 6m/s – and the view from the top is amazing. The deck is at about 200m up – actually not at the top, but I doubt anyone but the occasional engineer gets to go all the way up, and you can see all the major landmarks of Berlin to one degree or another. Most of them are specifically pointed out on notice boards that go the full 360° around the observation deck.

On descending from the Fernsehturm, I had a brief look inside Marienkirche, a historic church and one of the few pre-war remnants in the Alexanderplatz area. Photos inside were not allowed, but they had a fair collection of paintings and an impressive organ for the size of the church.

I then hung around in the square for a while, taking a look at the huge Neptunbrunnen (fountain) before embarking on a bus tour. The tour guide – an English bloke – was a little too inclined to laugh at his own jokes, but he did seem to know his stuff about the city and the route was wide-ranging, taking in a lot of sights including the Dom, the Reichstag, the Brandenburg Gate, Potsdamer Platz and Checkpoint Charlie as well as many others. I went the whole way around the route and left at Alexanderplatz again before setting off on foot, past the Dom and the Museumsinsel and all the way down Unter den Linden to the Brandenburg Gate. Much of Unter den Linden is being dug up for a new U-Bahn extension at the moment so there were a lot of cranes and hoardings along the road, but the lime trees (the eponymous Linden) are still there to provide some nice shade on what was an unexpectedly hot and sunny day.

The Brandenburg Gate looks pretty much exactly as it does on the postcards and there isn’t much to say about it. The bronze quadriga is pretty cool, though.

I then walked through the gate and turned left to visit the Holocaust Memorial. The bright weather seemed at odds with the subject matter. Above ground, the memorial consists of a field of 2,711 large concrete blocks placed in a huge grid, some low enough to sit on but others more than 2m high. These aren’t engraved with anything – they’re just plain dark grey concrete – and the effect is a little surreal. Below ground is a free exhibition which did a good job of showing the horrors of what happened without venturing into ghoulish territory. Part of the problem with learning about the Holocaust is that the numbers involved are so vast that they sort of blend together – it’s hard to really contextualise the murder of millions of people. The exhibition dealt with this by including bits and pieces of writing from people who were there in the camps and the ghettos, and a room with biographies of certain Jewish families of the time – what their names were, professions, photos if there were any – and notes about what happened to them, if we know. One family successfully escaped into the forest and joined a partisan group; others survived the camps, or managed to get out beforehand. Most of the pieces still ended with ‘they were murdered’. It makes the whole thing more personal.

After that sobering experience, I left the memorial and crossed the road for a long, soothing stroll in the more pleasant surroundings of the Tiergarten, Berlin’s largest park and a network of shady paths due to extensive post-war reforestation efforts and some lovely lawns, sculptures and fountains. There is also a lot of bird life in the park; in addition to the crows, sparrows and pigeons found throughout the city, I also think I saw a couple of treecreepers – though I’ll need to look up what a treecreeper looks like before I can be sure – and some kind of fancy duck. More startling were the nude sunbathers basking in discreet corners. Ah, Berlin.

I then left the Tiergarten and walked off towards Potsdamer Platz, where I had a look in the impressive Sony Centre – not a huge electronics store, but a covered plaza with restaurants and a cinema – and found a shop in the U-Bahn station selling large bottles of water.  I was getting thirsty after my walk in the park, so I sat for a while in nearby Leipziger Platz for a drink. It was getting on for late afternoon by then, so I walked back to the hotel via Gendarmenmarkt with its twin churches for a rest before dinner, which was spaghetti carbonara and a chocolate soufflé with a mango & passionfruit sorbet in a small Italian restaurant off Alexanderplatz.

The majority of shops bigger than a newsagent seem to close on a Sunday. I will try and pick up a few bits and pieces tomorrow, as my sightseeing plans are weather-dependant; I’ve heard it might rain, in which case the plan in the aquarium and the Museumsinsel, but if it’s dry after all then I plan to check out the zoo.

[ricagrim]

I was tagged by @madeyesims when she did this wonderful challenge by @alwaysimming.   Above is my group of misfits before I threw them back in time from left to right - Dobbie Licious Trollman / Peppermint Grimberry / Artie Grim / Adan Guasm / Amelia Cheung-Dinh Fyres.  (It’s this moment I realized how many A names I tend to use.)  Images and stories under the cut.

rules: reimagine your founder (or a sim you made as an adult) as a teen! maybe even on prom night?

Artie - Amelia - Peppermint - Dobbie - Adan The group sat there in silence for a moment as they contemplated the news that they had just been given. At some point in the future they would be not only watched Sims but one day they would all be called upon to begin a challenge. While for some it would not be a hardship, at least one of them would experience heartache as they contemplated which challenges they would be chosen for.

Pepper: “Dude.. I can’t believe you told me.  How am I supposed to just act normal around the Bin now knowing the truth.”

Artie: “Quit’cha complainin’.  Would you rather I hadn’t told you after I found it?”

Adan: “You could have at least grabbed something that said what all the symbols meant.”

Amelia: “Guys.. grow up.”

Dobbie: “We can’t.. you don’t age in the Bin.”

Artie: “Okay.. even I will admit that one is bad.”

Pepper: “So now what?”

Adan: “Now we go back to hanging with all the others and wait for our time in CAS when we get chosen..”

Amelia: “Think we’ll remember?”

Artie: “I doubt it.  Ever get a postcard from someone whose been chosen before?”

Adan: “Then why tell us at all.”

Artie: “Why not?”

Dobbie: *growls* “You’re a jerk!”

Artie: “Your point?”

Amelia Cheung-Dinh Fyres Origin: Born to Morgan Fyres and Reid Cheung-Dinh during an Immortal Dynasty Challenge.  Game culled her when she was still a child. She was saved from an earlier version of the game to see how the in game genetics would look and the game produced a stunner.

Amelia had been a decent kid in school just before that moment when her life had been whisked away into the Bin.  She could almost faintly remember Windenburg and her grandparents but the only real link she’s kept to the past is her last name.  Now within the Bin, she’s continued her education with the other Sims of Games Past, Present & Future. Enjoying the comraderie of the others and knowing that she hadn’t been lost forever to have her story never told.  Amongst the younger generation in TS4 High, she fits in with the other artsy types becoming a perfectionist over time thinking that will make her worthy of being watched in the future though the thing she longs for most is just a family of her own to watch grow.  To make her mark, start her story and be remembered.

Peppermint Grimberry Origin: Founder of my Not-So-Berry Challenge! 

At Four High School, Peppermint was always running around with active Sims and the “jock” crowd. He enjoyed having a good time whether it was a real party or just a small group of his actual friends hanging out playing games/pulling pranks. When they get out, he plans to use a scholarship to help him land his dream job at FurureSim Labs.  Though the team tends to give him enough flak for his obsession over the color mint.. so he’s never actually told anyone before that he’s a science nerd too.

Dobbie Licious Trollman Origin: During a Sims 3 Life States Dynasty, Dobbie was the first born child to Wisha Licious and her dead husband Hugh. Unfortunately, Dobbie was born as a normal Sim instead of the ghost life state that was needed to finish the dynasty so he was aged up from infant to young adult over the course of 36 Sim hours or less and then sent packing so his mother and father could try again.  His little brother Boo-T Licious was the ghost the family wanted and proceeded to bring the family the victory it sought.  He eventually got revenge against his Great Great Great Great Grandmother Bubble by making her a conventional beauty. 

Dobbie wasn’t exactly the cutest guy in the school.  It’s one of the reasons why he and Adan got along so well.  Though even out of the two, Adan was still “prettier.” Despite everything, he wanted to prove his Great x 4 Grannie wrong that looks mattered, proving that he didn’t have to use twisted magic to maintain a legacy that maintained it’s... unique.. roots. Until that time comes, he spends a lot of time with the outdoors club. While he has a thing for spending time underground (under bridges?), he takes advantage of every chance to work with his hands in the dirt.

Adan Guasm Origin: Future Guasm Cult Challenge Founder.

There’s something about Adan’s past that no one ever talks about and he likes it that way. People want to avoid him? That just made things better. Dobbie and a few others were okay in small doses but he preferred brooding and planning for the future criminal empire that would be his.  Of course when evil plans become boring, he has absolutely no problem practicing his unexplainable charms on the ladies of Four High. Sure none of them would ever admit that the green-skinned charmer had gotten them but while they were with him, he always made sure to handle their every wish.  After all practice makes perfect..

Artie Grim Origin: My baby.. my red man.. my favorite sim to torture. Founder of Three TS3 Immortal Dynasties (one success), and current founder of one TS4 Immortal Dynasty. Reaper Representative in the TS4 Rival Dynasty Challenge.

TS4 High AU: Artie isn’t much to look at if you discount the bright red skin and the evil glint in his eyes. He’s a little on the scrawny side, working to figure out his place in the universe unaware of his past destiny and future plans to mess with him even more when the watcher is given the chance. He’s the guy that can get you anything you need while in school.  He always has answers, connections, and items that are in high demand even if you weren’t aware you needed it until just that moment.  Most people tend to ignore him a little bit since he’s a bit mentally touched.  Often found on the computer talking to the desk about things as if they were best friends.  Never with a headset on so it could be mistaken as a discord chat. People try to avoid him especially after he tosses Sass towards the watcher without a care of the consequences that were sure to follow. 

Artie: “What are you doing woman?” Rica: “Coming up with a backstory for your current rage of hormones.” Artie: “Well could you stop? You’re killing my rep here!” Rica: “What rep?  This is Tumblr.. they don’t know you here.” Artie: “Yet.. They don’t know me yet.  Now shush and give me back my muscles!” Rica: *evil giggle* Artie: “Manly muscles!  I meant manly muscles!”

Most people have done this so I don’t know if there’s anyone left to tag but feel free to claim I tagged you if you’re looking for a way to get in on the action. Thank you for reading this small creative exploration of all the characters.  There is so much not being said about Artie but mostly because I don’t think anyone really wants to read the paragraphs that I can spew about my little red reaper and his journey so far.

Ricanote: The word dynasty used throughout this post is in reference to the DYNASTY challenges that were for created and are moderated on Carl & Pam’s Sims Forum.  Dynasties are generational games with extensive requirements for every generation to complete or you fail. A Dynasty is about 10 x more restrictive than most other challenges available for Sims but only if you care about having your name written on the Hall of Fame. If you want more information, feel free to message me or google it.

[thesnhuup]

Confronting Racism, Past and Present

Our Board of Trustees meets in mid-winter for what we have called a “learning retreat,” going with my leadership team to a place where we can expand our thinking, to learn from some other area of work or industry, and to engage with thinkers and doers in other fields. One year it was Washington, D.C., where we did a deep dive into policy. Another year it was Silicon Valley to engage with new technology. Last year it was LA, where we visited SpaceX, heard from experts in entertainment, and met with Mayor Eric Garcetti. This past week we went to Alabama, to the cradle of the Civil Rights Movement in Montgomery and Birmingham, a fitting place to think hard about diversity, inclusivity, and equity. For most of us, maybe for all of us, it was the single most powerful experience of our time at SNHU.

I’m still processing why it was so. Almost everything we learned we knew at some level, intellectually, but this felt more visceral, often like a punch to the gut and a clasping of the heart. We know that the gun violence of a place like Chicago is out of control and exacting a terrible toll on the children and young people who live in what is effectively a war zone on American soil, but then Arne Duncan joined us with a group of the young men from his Chicago CRED program and we heard the reality of their lives. One had been shot ten times. Billy, the learning coach, had served twenty years for the murder of one of Arne’s best friends and the basketball hope of the neighborhood (a story told in ESPN’s 30-for-30 episode “Benji,” in which Billy appears). The story of the dinner he then had with the victim’s family was a knee buckling story of redemption and forgiveness – not a Hallmark version, but raw and true and ongoing. It’s a story I’ll never forget and one I really can’t recount here – I’m not good enough a writer to do it justice.

Arne shared that in the elementary school classrooms he can ask kids to raise their hands if they know someone who was shot and every hand goes up. He asks them to keep their hands raised if they know five people who were shot — all hands remain up. Ten people? Most hands. Fifteen people? More than half the hands. Twenty people? Half the hands. Think about it – these are little children in an American city. If they were white children, we would have a massive government effort to address the problem. This was a gut punch moment.

We spent time with our colleagues in Birmingham, one of our first urban eco-system learning pilot sites, and had a panel with the amazingly talented team Mayor Woodfin has assembled to address Birmingham’s challenges, including a similar wave of gun violence in the city’s poorest neighborhoods.

Not coincidentally, these are the same neighborhoods that were “redlined,” set aside for Blacks, as official city planning policy.

I had always heard the expression and assumed it was a tacit understanding. It was instead official policy, planned, and its effects are still being felt decades later. Arne’s program in Chicago aims to give young men an alternative to the violence, through work pathways. In Birmingham, we are working to create educational pathways to work through LRNG, our newly acquired community impact group. Billy made a simple and yet deep insight: if you live in a war zone and fear for your life, you carry a gun. If your little sister is going hungry and there is no work, you do whatever it takes to get money to buy food. If you live with incessant fear and hopelessness, you self-medicate through drugs or alcohol. These are rational choices when seen through that lens. Arne and others doing the hardest work imaginable in the hardest places in our country are trying to create hope and a different set of rational choices. I hope that our work with the city of Birmingham will provide a pathway to education, and connect talent with opportunity.

While in Birmingham, we visited the sacred ground that is the 16th Street Baptist Church, where in 1963 white supremacists planted a bomb that killed four little girls.

This storied church is where the heroes of the Civil Rights Movement met, and often preached, including Dr. Martin Luther King, the resolute Fred Shuttlesworth, an amazing man who is not as widely known as he should be, and Ralph David Abernathy, and where the 1963 Children’s Crusade was organized.

We have all read about the heroic struggle for equal rights, but there was something about being in the place that was incredibly powerful. One feels a kind of gravity, the weight of a history that suddenly feels less distant or abstract. It was a feeling I’ve had on the battlefields of the Somme or in the Killing Fields of Cambodia — the presence of those who haunt these places. It was true of Kelly Ingram Park, right across the street from the church and the site of the demonstrations where Theophilus Eugene “Bull” Connor had dogs released and fire hoses used on marchers.

The images from the church bombing and the brutal repression of the marchers made headlines worldwide, sparking outrage across the U.S., and led to the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Voter suppression and an ongoing attempt to undercut the act, including demonstrably false charges of widespread voter fraud, are stark reminders that the most basic civil rights remain under threat even after all these years.

If there was any doubt of that fact, it was shattered by our visit to the newly created National Memorial for Peace and Justice, a stunning memorial to all those killed by racial terror, including thousands of lynchings, in the 19th and 20th centuries. It is the first time I’ve seen in the U.S. a formal coming to grips with the racial hatred of our past in the way one sees in Berlin, which lays bare its guilt around the Holocaust.

Every metal piece, reminiscent of tombstones, represents a county and the names of those murdered there. While they are mostly from the southern states that enslaved people, New York, Oregon, California, and Illinois are among the northern states also represented. Racism knows no boundaries in America then or now.

The “crimes” for which people were murdered are shocking.

Lynchings were not rare. The Memorial is stunning in visually and physically capturing the scope of the multi-decade domestic terrorism that created a mass migration north, ethnic cleansing in today’s parlance.

Lest we take some comfort in the notion that these were the acts of some small, psychotic group of terrorists, the nearby Legacy Museum reminds us that thousands of people would turn out to see the violence, bringing children and whole families. Postcards were made and sold. As Bryan Stevenson would remind us, the perpetrators of this systemic terror were not just the uneducated and backward. Complicit were the best educated politicians, business people, clergymen, and yes, academics. And that history is not so distant, extending into my lifetime.

The Memorial and the Legacy Museum were the brainchild of the aforementioned Bryan Stevenson, the crusading lawyer and author of Just Mercy. Founder of the Equal Justice Initiative, Bryan has fought against the death penalty (which overwhelmingly reflects racial bias in its application) and mass incarceration. The Museum draws a clear and unequivocal line from slavery to racial terror to mass incarceration and a deeply racist criminal justice system. Later that evening Alabama put another Black man to death, a jarring and vivid reminder that the injustice remains that close.

Bryan met with us and gave a talk that was at once enraged and inspired. The MacArthur Prize winner was an inspiration, a master storyteller, and reminded us that however hard the challenges are today, they pale in comparison to the fights and the suffering that was endured by those who came before and that it is to them that we have a responsibility to continue the struggle for civil and human rights.

It’s how we honor their sacrifice.

How elevated and inspiring the fight can be was made clear to all of us when we spent over an hour with fabled Judge Myron H. Thompson, the first Black federal judge in Alabama. We sat in his courtroom, the courtroom where Judge Frank Johnson ruled in key civil rights cases, including the Rosa Parks case that struck down segregation in public transportation and the ruling that allowed the march from Selma. Judge Thompson, who has also ruled in famous cases, including Roy Moore’s Ten Commandments case and Planned Parenthood vs. Bentley, reminded us that in this melting pot of a country (some would say “salad”), it is the Law that acts as the pot, that keeps it all together. He reminded us that we were sitting in seats once occupied by Rosa Parks and Dr. King. It was absolutely inspiring and that old beautiful 1930s courtroom, witness to so much history, seemed like church.

As we walked back to our hotel, one member of my team, with tears still in her eyes, said, “I thought I knew. This was like a 2×4 to the side of the head.” At dinner, someone else said, “I’ve never cried so many times in one day, both out of sadness and inspiration.” It was against the background of these remarkable three days that the Board of Trustees unanimously approved our new Strategic Plan for Diversity, Equity, and Inclusivity, which we will release in the coming weeks. They did so because it is a superb plan. They also did it with a deep and abiding resolve that SNHU should play its part in countering this country’s long and ongoing racism and genocidal origins. The Legacy Museum begins with American Indians, the far too often neglected origin story steeped in bloody genocide against a whole people, acknowledging that we have so far to go as an institution and as a country.

On our evening news, the embarrassment that is Virginia politics right now, and in the chants of “Don’t shoot” that ring throughout American cities, we have stark reminders that before we can have reconciliation, we need truth. The truth about America’s ongoing racism is hard to bear, as all who were with us this week would attest, but it did not feel defeating. It felt freeing and empowering and humbling. As it does in so much of its work, SNHU will now put its resources into doing its part. At a time when American higher education is seen as part of the problem, we have to be part of the solution. Access is a starting point and we’ve worked hard on that part of the calculus of hope. With purpose and determination, we will focus on equity, diversity, and inclusivity.

http://bit.ly/2TIVLd1 from President's Corner http://bit.ly/2Bu6WyQ via IFTTT

[amethyxtnix]

UPDATES UPDATES UPDATES

Hello Everyone!

Finally updating my pinned post!

In this simblr, you'll find gameplay stories of two of the legacy challenges that I'm currently updating which has two different styles of storytelling. I am also doing CAS challenges and I am slowly getting back to building.

I am planning to do more legacy challenges (I feel like the next one would be more occult-centred, most likely spellcasters but we shall see). And I am nearly finished with the current CAS challenge so will be on a hunt to find more.

Here are the links:

Postcard Legacy Challenge (currently in Generation 2):

Live for Something Legacy Challenge (currently in Generation 1):

One Sim, 25 Outfits CAS Challenge

I would still like to get to know more other fellow simmers out there and be able to fill up my dash with anything sims related. So please like/retweet this post. Follow is always good too! And plus I am still in need of friends too so I will be following!

[twentysomethinginorlando]

To Marriage and Beyond: the Buzz Lightyear Proposal

New Post has been published on https://twentysomethinginorlando.com/buzz-lightyear-proposal/

To Marriage and Beyond: the Buzz Lightyear Proposal

People get engaged every day at Disney World. People get married every day at Disney World actually-they host weddings 365 days a year. What does not happen every day is being involved in one of these proposals. A while back, I planned and helped execute a fellow skipper’s proposal to his longtime girlfriend at the Magic Kingdom.

I had known Brian for a couple years, and met Jess a handful of times. Jay and Brian were really good friends, and as soon as he told Jay he was planning on proposing Jay offered to help. When I heard what they were up to I stepped in and started planning (taking over). Buzz Lightyear is their favorite character, Space Ranger Spin is their favorite ride, and she’s the Jessie to his Buzz. Jay wanted to get Buzz Lightyear himself involved, but it turns out characters can’t actually be involved in a proposal without a lot of money we didn’t have. So I came up with a way around that: we would have Buzz send them from his meeting place to the ride where we would use the ride photos to pop the question.

I went into Adobe Photoshop and mocked up a legacy style (the old paper ones) Fastpass for the Buzz Lightyear ride. I told Brian he had to pick a proposal date and stick with it before I finalized the design. Getting it printed turned out to be much harder than actually making it. I wound up with 20 postcard-size Fastpasses because it was the most cost effective method I found.

I cut two pieces of poster board in half to make four signs. My roommate at the time, Kirsten, had much better hand writing than me so she lettered out the words “Will you marry me?” over the four signs. I painted “Will” and “Marry” in green, and “You” and “Me?” in purple. This actually wound up being more time consuming than I thought because the movie I put on for background noise was way more interesting than I expected. I further enlisted Kirsten to come meet us at the park to hold one of the signs in addition to myself, Lacey and another friend.

Jay, Brian and I headed to Magic Kingdom early Wednesday, March 2nd. Jess was getting off work later that afternoon but we had prep work to do. Lacey and Kirsten were going to be meeting us later, and we were going to head to Buzz Lightyear as soon as our fourth was off work.

We went to Buzz’s meet and greet, and I spoke to the character attendant there. I explained our plan to her and gave her two of the Fastpasses, and asked her to make sure she could recognize Jay and Brian. They would be coming back later and we needed Buzz to give them the Fastpass. Then I had to find someone who worked Buzz Lightyear Space Ranger Spin and explain I needed to be able to get a group of seven people onto the ride at a moment’s notice. The cast member called a manager over and she issued us two anytime Fastpasses that were good for up to five people. Our final stop was the ride exit and gift shop where you can purchase your photos. I explained to the two cast members there what we were up to and asked if they would be able to pull the photos up on the screens in front of their registers, and they said it shouldn’t be a problem.

If only everything had gone to plan.

Jay and Brian stopped by Storybook Circus to get two Buzz Lightyear ear hats that they embroidered with the date, then went to meet Jess when she got off work. Jay wanted to stay with us but I insisted he stay with them to help coordinate things. Lacey, Kirsten and I were about to ride Pirates of the Caribbean to kill some time when we found out our fourth wasn’t coming, and they were getting in line to meet Buzz right then! We sprinted across the park and headed into the ride. I had hoped to encounter someone who looked friendly who might want to help us make some magic but no such luck, so Kirsten volunteered to hold two signs. We hopped on board and were too frantic to even really shoot at anything, we just sat there holding our signs up because we didn’t want something to happen and we somehow miss the photo.

This was back before I had free Photopass downloads.

We rushed to the preview wall and snapped photos of the reference numbers for our photos and went to where we had spoken to the cast members earlier. Bad luck struck again, and the girl that we talked to was nowhere to be found. So I started to explain the situation to the girl who was there, and then found myself having to write it down because she was deaf. She was super helpful and understanding! She brought out another cast member and the two of them pulled up the photos for us on the monitors as Jay gave me live updates on their progress. They were already on the ride! So we waited for what felt like twenty minutes for them to finish their four minute ride in a general state of stress and panic. They finally appeared around the corner and I waved to the two cast members and they pulled the two pieces of paper covering the photos away. (We didn’t want the wrong couple to see the photos!) Jess wanders by, completely oblivious and Jay goes, “Hey Jess, what’s that?” She still missed it until Brian physically turned her to see the screens, and then dropped down on one knee with the ring. I don’t think he even had to say a word.

The cast members printed copies of the two photos of us with the signs for them and we headed back out into the park. Jess and Brian decided to go tell Buzz that she said yes. Kirsten, Lacey and I were all still calming down from the nervousness and Jay was laughing at us, so we all hopped on the People Mover for a chance to catch our breath. We were cruising around Tomorrowland and we got stopped right over Buzz’s meet and greet as Brian and Jess were with him. I have never believed in Fate more than that moment. I managed to get it on video and tacked it onto the proposal when I uploaded it.

Talk about Galatic Heroes.

[minneapolisfoundationservices]

Angus King Speaks On Friday At The Process Development Lab At The University Of Maine In Orono.

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Have we forgotten the nearly 100 years of care and protection provided by Homestake Mining Company. This good standards for handy basement waterproofing products corporate neighbor spent millions of dollars improving public access, repairing environmental damage and promoting this South Dakota treasure. Homestake created the Spearfish Canyon Foundation to continue its legacy of canyon access, protection and promotion, but the cost has become too prohibitive for any one group. Homestake is gone now and the canyon requires a new deep-pocket to care for our beloved landscape. We should be grateful to the state of South Dakota for its foresight to carry on this legacy. The state is exactly the proper caretaker for the people of South Dakota. As Frank Lloyd Wright wrote in 1935, Spearfish Canyon is the most miraculous canyon in the West and My hat is off to South Dakota treasures; I hope the noble inheritance ... for that is what it is ... wont be exploited too much and spoiled as lesser beauty spots in our country have been spoiled. Natural wonders have their own inherent perils. They become so popular that the weight of human footsteps on the environment destroys its inherit natural beauty.

For the original version including any supplementary images or video, visit http://rapidcityjournal.com/news/opinion/columnists/local/article_efd52ee8-cd29-54a1-82a6-22ec9ffbb949.html

Bruce Poliquin announced plans for an Economic Development Assessment Team, which will explore ways to keep Maine's forest products industry alive in the wake of several mill closures. Buy Photo Ashley L. Conti | BDN Sen. Angus King speaks on Friday at the Process Development Lab at the University of Maine in Orono. King along with Matt Erskine, deputy assistant secretary of commerce for economic development and chief operating officer of the Economic Development Administration, Sen. Susan Collins and Rep. Bruce Poliquin announced plans for an Economic Development Assessment Team, which will explore ways to keep Maine's forest products industry alive in the wake of several mill closures. Buy Photo : Why $1.5 million for Maines forest products industry is just a start ORONO, Maine In a rare move, the federal government will deploy a team of economic development experts to Maine to help industry, state and community leaders form strategies for reinventing Maines forest products industry after a series of devastating mill closures. The U.S. Department of Commerces Economic Development Administration announced plans to send an Economic Development Assessment Team to Maine during an event at the University of Maine Friday afternoon.

For the original version including any supplementary images or video, visit http://bangordailynews.com/2016/07/29/news/bangor/feds-to-offer-advice-millions-in-grants-to-boost-economy-in-wake-of-mill-closures/?ref=relatedBox