#iafi

[things-ford-pines-missed]

DNA fingerprinting

Ford missed some major things that contributed to fingerprinting and using it in forensic science. Here's two:

Thing Ford Missed #142: DNA Fingerprinting

And then

Thing Ford Missed #143: Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System (IAFIS)

[surescreening12]

Why Fingerprint-Based Criminal History Checks are So Accurate

Fingerprint-based criminal history checks have long been considered a gold standard in the field of law enforcement and background verification. This method’s reliability and accuracy stem from the unique biological properties of fingerprints and the advanced technological systems used to analyze them. Here, we explore the key factors that contribute to the accuracy of fingerprint-based criminal history checks.

Uniqueness of Fingerprints One of the most compelling reasons for the accuracy of fingerprint-based checks is the inherent uniqueness of fingerprints. No two individuals, even identical twins, have the same fingerprints. Each fingerprint is characterized by distinct patterns of ridges, loops, and whorls that remain consistent throughout a person’s life. This biological uniqueness ensures that the fingerprint data collected from an individual can be reliably matched to their criminal record without confusion.

Permanence Over Time

Fingerprints are not only unique but also permanent. The patterns formed by the ridges on our fingertips are established in the womb and do not change over time, barring significant injury or scarring. This permanence allows for a consistent basis for identification over the course of an individual’s lifetime, providing a reliable anchor for historical criminal records.

Advanced Fingerprint Analysis Technology

Modern advancements in technology have significantly enhanced the accuracy of fingerprint-based criminal history checks. Automated Fingerprint Identification Systems (AFIS) are sophisticated databases used by law enforcement agencies to store and compare fingerprint data. These systems employ complex algorithms to match fingerprints against a vast repository of records quickly and accurately. AFIS technology can analyze minutiae points—the specific points of interest in a fingerprint pattern—ensuring precise matches even from partial or smudged prints.

Extensive Databases

The effectiveness of fingerprint-based criminal history checks is bolstered by the extensive databases maintained by various law enforcement and government agencies. These databases, such as the FBI’s Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System (IAFIS), contain millions of fingerprint records collected over decades. The sheer volume and historical depth of these databases increase the likelihood of identifying matches, thereby improving the accuracy of criminal history checks.

Cross-Jurisdictional Collaboration The accuracy of fingerprint-based criminal history checks is also enhanced by cross-jurisdictional collaboration. Agencies at the local, state, and federal levels, as well as international bodies, often share fingerprint data. This cooperation ensures that fingerprint records are comprehensive and up-to-date, making it easier to track individuals across different regions and legal jurisdictions. This collaborative approach significantly reduces the chances of overlooking pertinent criminal history information.

High Standards and Protocols

Law enforcement agencies follow stringent standards and protocols when collecting and analyzing fingerprints. Proper training of personnel, adherence to legal and procedural guidelines, and the use of high-quality equipment all contribute to the accuracy of fingerprint data. These high standards help ensure that the collected fingerprints are clear, correctly classified, and properly stored for future reference.

Reduction of Human Error

The integration of automated systems in fingerprint analysis has substantially reduced the potential for human error. Manual processing and matching of fingerprints are prone to mistakes, especially when dealing with large volumes of data. Automated systems minimize these errors through precise algorithms and machine learning techniques that continually improve with increased data and usage.

Real-Time Updating and Monitoring Fingerprint-based criminal history checks benefit from real-time updating and monitoring capabilities. Law enforcement agencies can quickly update fingerprint databases with new records, arrests, or changes in an individual’s criminal status. This real-time capability ensures that background checks reflect the most current information available, enhancing their accuracy and reliability.

Conclusion

The accuracy of fingerprint-based criminal history checks is rooted in the unique and permanent nature of fingerprints, coupled with advanced technological systems and comprehensive databases. The collaboration between various jurisdictions and the high standards maintained in fingerprint collection and analysis further bolster the reliability of this method. As technology continues to evolve and integration among law enforcement agencies becomes more seamless, the precision and dependability of fingerprint-based criminal history checks are likely to improve even further. This combination of biological uniqueness, technological sophistication, and procedural rigor makes fingerprint-based criminal history checks an indispensable tool in ensuring public safety and maintaining the integrity of the criminal justice system.

[iceagefloods]

IAFI 2023 YEAR-IN-REVIEW

A summary for our members and other interested people By Gary Ford, IAFI President, January 12, 2024 This is our 7th year preparing a Year-in-Review report for you, our members. We appreciate your continued support, friendship and membership. INSTITUTE MEMBERSHIP Our members provide most of our support and much of the reason for the various materials, activities and events we provide. In 1996, we…

[postsofbabel]

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[integritydna]

How Are Fingerprints Obtained From a Crime Scene?

A fingerprint is comprised of a collection of different swirling lines, each one completely unique based on the way the lines are formed and patterned. There are only seven different line types that make up different finger prints, but because the lines can start, split or stop at any point within the fingerprint, there are an endless number of patterns that can be created. The billions of different fingerprints that exist are comprised of many different angles, lengths, formations, widths and heights of these seven different line types.

Fingerprints left at crime scenes can be uncovered using several different methods. One of the most popular methods uses various adhering powders that are attracted to the oils present in fresh fingerprints. The fingerprint is made visible because the powder sticks to the oil imprint of the lines and ridges, forming the fingerprint. Another method for discovering fingerprints involves using either superglue, or Cyano-Acrylate, that vaporize when heated and the smoke attaches to the fingerprint in order to leave a visible white print. There are other methods that can be utilized in order to discover latent finger prints, but these typically involve specialized laboratory equipment that is not always available to crime scene technicians.

Fingerprint dusting methods work best with fresh fingerprints because they rely on our skin oils that are naturally secreted from the eccrine glands in our fingertips and are left behind on surfaces that we touch. Only the raised portions of our fingerprints actually touch the surface, which leaves a nice clear fingerprint behind. Fingerprinting dust clings to these skin oils, which is what allows the print to become visible.

Most fingerprints are initially run through state criminal fingerprint databases first. Not all state crime labs have access to the IAFIS database, even though the database is essentially free to use and is available for any crime lab to obtain. Typically, if a crime lab has no luck with a fingerprint search on a local level, they can turn to IAFIS in an attempt to find an out-of-state fingerprint match. More here No wait fingerprinting

Originally fingerprints only had a great deal of purpose when it came to solving crimes that had already occurred, though fingerprinting is gaining popularity in other crime-fighting methods. Biometrics allow people to keep track of the public coming and going in some circumstances, such as entering a court house by first giving your fingerprint. Many states require you to give your fingerprint when you apply for your driver's license, or have a check cashed in order to prevent fraud. Children are being fingerprinted early so that if they ever go lost, it will be easier to find them because they are in the system. And some high profile buildings like banks have locks which rely on fingerprints in order to open them. So there is a lot more that a fingerprint can do than simply put a bad guy away. They can also keep people safe, and help keep track of people by storing them in the fingerprint database.

[clickireland]

My first time in the home place of the @thecausewaygiants for their game against @donegalderryvipers . . #giants #causewaygiants #iafi #americanfootballireland @_sportni (at Lime Park, Armoy Rugby Club) https://www.instagram.com/p/CSHgJSmDyK5/?utm_medium=tumblr

[stonyoongi]

Can I have Yan!Jungkook (IAFY) + Somnophilia? Thanks

hey anon, how are you? thank you soo much for your request. i'm sooo sorry for the delay:(( have a wonderful week<3

yandere!jungkook (i'll always forgive you) + somnophilia

Ever since you noticed his pattern of schedules, you've come to hate Thursdays.

He wakes up earlier than usual and takes your still-sleeping body down to the basement, where he carefully lays you down on the mattress you slept on for the first few nights, before becoming good enough to sleep next to him in the master bedroom.

You don't like the basement. Despite the electric lighting, it's still a little dark, which makes for a sinister vibe. The walls are dirty, there are spiders and other insects that you fear and the smell is not the most pleasant, in addition to the disturbing memories of the painful punishments that happened in this room. He leaves breakfast ready on a small table beside the makeshift bed and a note wishing you a good morning and telling you he loves you.

You miss him so much throughout the day, boredom turns to loneliness, and you want his company so badly. Beside him, even if sometimes in silence, the atmosphere is welcoming. It's strange to think that all the hate and revulsion you felt at first turned into dependence and love. You're still sad that he doesn't trust you enough to let you be alone in the other rooms of the house, but you understand his side. He loves you and just wants to protect you, even if from himself.

He arrives later than usual and as much as you try to stay awake to receive him, you end up falling asleep without even realizing it.

Jungkook can't avoid smiling suit with the sight of your fragile body shrunken on the mattress, but soon he felt the blame him attaining him to notice the expression of the disturbed on your face. You probably had a shit day just like it, you need to relax as much as it.

Just like in the morning, he carries your body gently to the upstairs, taking great care not to wake you before leaving you on the comfortable mattress.

A first kiss is deposited on your forehead, then his lips go to your cheek, jaw, chin and lips slightly parted, where it takes a little more. You move again, ending up staying on your stomach and he smiles. So cute. He then decides to get rid of the heavy clothes he wears, getting naked and then positions himself behind you and pulls your body to his. He loves the comfort that the height difference between you provides, your back against his well-defined pectoral, buttocks pressed in the erection in the middle of his legs.

He releases a hoarse groan against yourr soft skin when you end up rubbing unconsciously against the stick of the same, not being able to avoid he takes a hand to your hip and forces you to move again. "Fuck ..." Some incomprehensible noises also escape from your mouth.

Jeon Jungkook's bold hand slides down your thighs and pulls your sweater up, accumulating all and fabric a little above your navel. Then he lifts your leg carefully and uses his free hand to hold the already erect cock and rub through yourr entire sensitive core. He thanks himself mentally for having sent you to be without panties.

"Ah ..." You moaned when you wake up and feel the stick tissue from invading your entry slowly. "J-Jungkook what -"

"Shh, baby, relax," he whispers in your ear, staring at the slow and deep thrusts, taking advantage of your walls by pressing his length. "Shit, you're so tight," curses a hand to one of your breasts to touch the soft flesh.

"M-more kook, please!" He smiles past your plea and grants your request, increasing the speed of the movements.

[transsexualhamlet]

2 7 and 10 for sigma nikolai fyodor!!

haw;heirogh;afewiogh;iafi;we :))

ask game

2. fist fight, get drunk with, share a flat with

Oh that is so easy. Share a flat with Sigma, because he's SANE and i might be able to SLEEP, fist fight Fyodor because I would actually win, and get drunk with Nikolai. I bet it would be fucking insane and I would wake up locked in his basement /pos

7. go to a wedding with, go to a party with, go to a museum with

Go to a wedding with Sigma. He would behave. He would be nice to be around and he wouldn't absolutely ruin it shdfhghfd. Go to a party with Nikolai for the same reasons because 1. fyodor would just sit in the corner the whole time and 2. nikolai knows how to party. Any party with Nikolai there is going to result in at least three fatalaties a sex dungeon and seventy five cops. And go to a museum with Fyodor, I think he would have a lot to say and I would love to hear his thoughts on the art, however depressing they are. He's quiet and very thoughtful and probably could tell me worlds more about it than the museum staff.

10. netflix and chill with, go ice-skating with, play dodgeball against

oh my god this one is. I don't know how to ice skate I've never ice skated in my life even though it sounds soo fun so I would do it with Sigma because he might actually be able to teach me and also I do NOT want to go up against Sigma in dodgeball he would have mad strategy and I am not ready for that. I do want to go up against Fyodor in dodgeball! Because I would win. And then you know what im gonna say for netflix and chill

IM SORRY FOR PICKING THE I WANNA FUCK NIKOLAI OPTION EVERY SINGLE TIME IN MY DEFENSE. I WANNA FUCK NIKOLAI

[faejilly]

WIP Folder

Rules: Post the name of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues/interests you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or I will tell you something about it!

I was bored so I included the “what they are” after the titles anyways, but feel free to ask me more questions or request excerpts if you’d like regardless *shrugs*

tagged by @twistedsinews, no pressure tagging @evilsapphyre @echo-bleu​ @glorious-spoon @ohfreckle @junemermaid and/or anyone who would like, no one who wouldn’t 😉

There are some miscellaneous ficlet things that are saved in tumblr drafts or notebooks or whatever: prompt fills, Shadowhunters codafics for the @malecdiscordserver​ #5YearsOfShadowhunters, some @shadowhunterbingo notes, #clizzy ficlets, Malec Alicante epilogue ficlets, some #7kpp feels, some flailing about a sequel to known subjects (BAU, SH/CM crossover) etc. They don’t have titles or anything yet, they’re just a mish-mash of oh I should get to that eventually notes.

WNIP: (aka Works-Not-In-Progress, as in I’m not planning on ever finishing these, but they might have bits I can use for something else some day)

oosdt (this dream is climbing sky) [sequel to out of some dreaming tree]

kisses (firsts) [notes on more ficlets for kisses are a better fate than wisdom; I may move this back into the regular folder once I get to 2x10 in the rewatch, since that’s where I stopped, timeline-wise, with the last ficlet.]

Persuasion [Malec Persuasion AU; Regency & Magic & Case-fic? It’s a monster that I may some day manage to cannibalize for parts.]

TOG [a Nicky/Joe meeting each other fic for The Old Guard]

candles (Merribela) [Dragon Age 2 Isabela/Merril something]

CI sequel: 5 times fic? [Cruel Intentions]

Code Realize warm as silk sequel [warm as silk]

Ngaio & Tane [Mass Effect, Spacer!Shepard and her estranged father]

Shan Xia notes [fic for a selkie character for an RPG that never got off the ground]

JE Zu & Yaling [Jade Empire, Spirit!Monk/Sagacious Zu Tragedy Feels!]

post-Kruschev (this is sept’s fault) [Scarecrow & Mrs. King Epilogue/s5 fix-it fic]

evil!angels [angels as eldritch horrors, parabatai angst, somethingsomething]

pro bono [s1 Malec Porn, I did a twitter thread about it once, it’s here]

Shadowhunters

iafy [I am for you; I have separate docs for notes, ch18, & ch 19. There will probably be a ch 20 as well (at least?) but I don’t have anything beyond notes for it yet.]

ibhww [if broken hearts were whole; this one also as a few separate docs as I try and get it organized]

mer!alec [this is also broken into three parts, the sequels to and breathing is wishing.)

fake hating [a Malec secret!relationship but Extra About It fantasy AU]

priest!kink theology? [Priest!Alec/Demon!Magnus. I made an aesthetic post about it last year, but I would like to Actually Fic (eventually)]

procedural-ish? [It was originally supposed to be a crack!fic/sex farce, and then a cop/CI pining thing, and is now probably a Mafia!AU? IDEK anymore.]

wing!fic [s1 canon-divergence AND ALSO NEPHILIM HAVE WINGS]

I had rather a rose than live forever [reverse!verse, High Warlock of Manhattan Alec Lightwood/Shadowhunter Magnus Bane]

spite!fic [not really spiteful, that’s just shorter than ‘2x20 aftermath/date night/pandemonium porn’]

fall fright fest continuation? (practical magic au)

“I do” [Arranged Marriage AU]

rubbish heap [s3 rewrite/sequel to with an if in its soul; includes amnesia & parabatai angst & Owl!complications & weird magic lore & etc.]

[dememarquette]

True Crime

They parked outside a cottage. Portend Point was a gorgeous neighborhood. Occupying it, 1305 Parkview was an equally picturesque property. It had everything one could want from a gentrified postcard: a manicured lawn, a white picket fence, friendly neighborhood dogs excited to see you but not too excited. A sign advertised this slice of warm American pie could be yours. FOR SALE it said, smacked across an unfortunate realtor's forehead. Kevin Locklear had a new golf cart staked on this commission. In his desperation, which reeked as bad as the scene, he ducked below the police tape to plant an optimistic 'Open House Resumes Wednesday!' picket. Adria would take personal pleasure in throwing it in the garbage.

"Jean and Sidney Morin," She briefed, as Ian punched in the door code. "They're from New Gisen, reported missing 72 hours ago. Gas station footage has the suspect grabbing Jean at the Circle K. Sidney was seen by traffic cams in hot pursuit, but we have nothing after the first intersection. Men are checking doorbell cameras along the street. So far, nothing." The stolen car in the driveway was similarly combed through. Every stray hair inside was documented. There wasn't much left that wasn't bagged, tagged and sent off to the lab, but Ian liked one last intimate walk-through before tossing the keys to clean-up. If he was absorbing one word of what Adria was saying, it didn't show. Her partner worked like a TNT detective. Adria pictured the world bottoming out around him. He'd suffer 50 consecutive epiphanies after looking at something stupid like a tipped ketchup bottle, and construct a convoluted MO from there, but that's not how she worked. If reading the block text helped, murder's hooked on phonics, by God she'd do it. "Neighbors didn't hear anything. We have no idea where the struggle took place, if there was one. Judging from the looks of this place-" "It wasn't here." He said, tuning in only for silent confirmation. She nodded, and he killed the lights. His UV swept over the walls. The inside had the aesthetically-pleasing insipidity of a gourmet cracker. It had been sanitized for a showing, but according to the carpet, the perp wasn't admiring the crown modeling. A modest drip-trail led straight from the front door to the basement, and there wasn't a petal out of place before it. After a quick scan of the rooms composing the ground floor, Ian got his fill of Ashley HomeStore's heritage collection. To the basement they went. Each wood plank creaked under their feet. The floor consisted of a flat slab of water-stained cement. The space was fashioned into a man-cave. Shelves were bolted to the walls. All the sofas were leather. Posters on the wall were swapped for something more palatable, flanking an entertainment system that was to be marveled. In a move that didn't appear to serve any purpose toward the room's breathability, all the furniture was shoved to the side to clear the center. A single bulb hung by chain overhead. Energy funneled through a copper wire made it hum. Evidence photos never did it justice. The victims were strung together by a lawn hose. A single cloth gag- maybe a sheet- knocked their heads together, pulled taut at the pocket of their jaws. Their height difference forced Jean's face heavenward. The whites of her eyes were visible from the top, but you had to be at the bottom to see the shadow she sat in was actually a pattern. Their blood leaked into a paste-like outline, seeping color into the circle etched into it. Where the natural tug of gravity didn't fill the trenches, the killer dropped to their knees and started fingerprinting, casting away any macabre elegance it formerly had. Their hands scraped to fill the pattern all until it got to the bottom of the arc. Ian read her mind. "They were interrupted." "By what?" She asked. His mouth pressed into a hard line. He didn't have an answer. Instead he completed his circuit before dropping closer to the gag. Adria knelt beside him, her boots toeing the edge where the brushwork tapered. Fingerprints- fragmented and smeared- were shipped off to IAFIS. Problem was, when the suspect hadn't indulged in some casual DUI, she needed something to match it to. She sized her hand up against theirs, while the deceased husband stared on. Adria avoided eye contact. Violent crime wasn't anything new. She's seen her fair share since moving to the city, but never a throat cut this deeply. Sidney had been nearly decapitated. Skin folded off his Adam's apple like a bow-tie. Stringy matter underneath was on full display. "What about the design? Does that mean anything to you?" "The team is working on tracking it. So far they're thinking it’s some type of online cult." "And that?" She tipped her head to the bowls skirting the outline. Ian grabbed one, sifting through it with a finger. Its contents stuck to the latex, white. "Cinnamon, and salt. The last one's pyrite. Offerings." "Then what were they?" "Bait." The moment he said it the lights died. Ian shot up. Adria pulsed to follow, but her balance teetered. Neither were near a switch. "Who else is here?" "No one." The bowl Ian was holding warbled a low note, spinning where he’d been. He shouted from the foot of the stairs. "Has to be the breaker. Don't move." "What?" "Don't move." "Wh- I'm not going to touch anything!" Adria lurched on steel-toes. Offense had her fumbling with her flashlight. Sure. Okay. Fine. So in the past she hasn't been the most careful. Maybe she's stomped through one or two crime scenes. But never when it mattered! So it's not like she'd- Something blew past her ear.  With a graceless shriek, she made it a third. "God DAMN it!" Coagulated blood gunked to her jeans. She fell onto her back, swearing and curling to assess the damage. Ian would take one look at her and scowl. He'll do that smoldering, glower thing of his that she only liked when it was directed to other people. And then she'll have to go home, change her jeans, and hope he lets her back onto the property before they break out the body bags. He's going to see right away that- There's smoke? She dropped her knee. Sniffing, she swiveled. Air was escaping somewhere, hissing like a busted soda can. Whatever it was suffused the room. Her eyes burned just to move, but she couldn’t shut them. It could be more than the breaker- But that wouldn't explain why it was in the middle of the scene. With a yelp, she witnessed a spark fly between the corpses. Her heels planted into the floor. She kicked, hastily wedging distance between her and smog lifting off the concrete. She could've pretended she missed the class where she found out cinnamon was flammable. She could've maybe let it slide that denim wasn't an accelerant, but this was straight up sulfur. A ribbon of light unwound between them. A silhouette stretched out from behind it, towering. "Ian?" She asked, already knowing it wasn't. It had too many feelings to be. "What is this?" It croned. Miserably, it picked up a leg. "Ugh." Fingers acting faster than her brain, Adria whipped her gun from its holster "HANDS. Hands up, now!" "Sticky-" It groused. She heard a wet, staggered ppmf-ff. That suspiciously sounded like bodies toppling. In a maneuver she couldn't repeat, she blindly vaulted over the sofa, jamming herself between its backing and the wall. Her vision developed slow. First outlines, then shapes. Colors a little after when the smokescreen fanned out, blurring the glow around his face. She propped up her gun. Old leather gave away her position. The red light of eyes widened, vaguely cartoon-ish. "WHOA, hey now. Don't shoot." "Get on the ground." She ordered. "I said I wanna see your hands! Both of them, now!" "Aye-aye!" He complied. There was something sarcastic about the way his shadow wiggled to the floor. "Happy?" "Who are you?!" "Demetri Marquette, at your service." He tried to bow, until the violent rattle of her pistol suggested that was strictly prohibited. "What are you doing here?!" "Same as you, I imagine." "What?! What does that mean?" "You know. Working. The hustle." He shimmied. One by one, the candles surrounding them lit. The man in the center appeared nothing as he did in the shadows. His stature halved. The reddish glow vanished from his face, but most perplexing yet was that he somehow found a cover to throw over the bodies. With the blanket over them, they looked like fucking sock puppets. Adria sucked in a breath, sputtering nothing but inarticulated syllables for solid five seconds before, "Hey- stop fucking with my scene!!" "Oh- this?" He patted the victim's heads. The disrespect alone should’ve been grounds to fire. "I was meaning to talk to you about that. I'm sorry but two? Overkill. We’re not in the business of extra credit but I do appreciate the enthusiasm. So, uh. What's it going to be?" She swore nothing about this conversation was tracking. "Huh? "Money, fame, power, et cetera?" Nonsense! Complete nonsense. What was he implying? That this was an offer? A transaction for the bodies? It didn't matter. He overstayed his welcome before he popped in. And the fact he got in here at all may mean he knew something they didn't. This ridiculous, unexplainable suspension of belief kept her from feeling imperiled but this fuck was going to ruin the whole case if he didn't already. She pinched the button on the side of her walkie. "Ian, I need back-up downstairs now." The stranger sucked his teeth. "Ah. I wouldn't do that.” ’Oh my God, shut up. “Come on, talk to me.” He cooed. “What would make you more comfortable? Fresh air? The lights- is it the lights?" She glared, trigger finger satisfied with rapid-fire button clicking. Ian's hip would be going off like the fire alarm should be. "You know, I was going for ambiance, but." He snapped. Suddenly the power was back. She twisted from her fort. Corner to corner, stomping cleared across ceiling. The basement door creaked. Ian came swinging down the stairs, perfectly on cue. "The breaker fixed itself." He announced, sounding leery of it. "Imagine that," Said Blondie. Adria’s aim stayed fixed, prepared for sudden moves. There weren’t any, even from her partner. Ian’s velocity slowed to a stop. His grip on the handrail turned rigid before the bottom, tightening like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His eyes roved over the ruined scene, the magnitude of it driving a huge crease into his brow. He did not notice the stranger directly beside him. Adria desperately looked between the both of them. "He can't see me," Demetri elaborated. "Adria?" Said Ian. The gravelly rumble of his voice asked fifty questions- none of which she had an answer to. She had a gun aimed at nothing. Two bodies were down, bizarrely set up for a picnic. "I-..." She stuttered. "Word of advice," Demetri picked a piece of lint of Ian’s shoulder. The detective reacted with only the slight drift of his eye-line, before his attention snapped back to Adria. "Don't say anything or you'll buy yourself a ticket to a psych eval." "Ian, you can't-?" "Nevermind. From this angle, you already look insane." Ian waited for her to continue but she lowered her gun. If he was right, there was no coming back from this. "...I thought I saw someone in the smoke." "Smoke?" There was no smoke. No fire, no light. Demetri's trapeze around the basement hadn't even left footprints. To Ian, she used the two minutes he was away to go nuts. Just lose her mind. Sanity to the wind. Who needs to critically think when you can barricade yourself behind a sofa, wildly waving a gun around? Defending yourself from scary shadow people that a paid electricity bill keeps at bay? Ian stared, impatience surging from a quiet simmer to a boil. She realized it’s been too long since she even tried answering a question. "Are you alright?" He rephrased. What she heard was ’Are you an idiot?’ Her face burned hot. "I think-" She slung her bag over his shoulder. "I think I need a minute. I'll be back." The tight set of his jaw meant he agreed. She ran past him, bolting for the cruiser. Now she was going to have to type up an incident report. Scrub her pants. Contemplate the onset of her paranoia induced insanity, and hope they wouldn't take her badge for this. She threw herself into the front seat of her cruiser. The door slammed behind her. Before she’d let frustrated tears get the better of her, she pulled up a Chrome browser. Occult. Satanism. She typed. Demon summoning. Symbol. All the results looked close. Matching the exact twisted pattern would be a nightmare. "Mind if we hit Starbucks?" Demetri necked her seat. She jolted, narrowly stopping herself from throwing her elbow through his eye socket. Knowing he was fictional made her wish she hadn't hesitated. "Why are you in my car?!" She swiped at her face. "For a frap. Hopefully. Is butterscotch still in season?" "No! Get out." His cheek squished against her headrest. "Aw, c'mon." She adjusted the rear-view, only for him pop up passenger side. "I get it." He said, proving he did Not actually. Devoid of any understanding of what 'Get out' meant, "More of a Dunkin' girl. That's fine I guess. Oh! Hope you don't mind. I dug through your glove department. I was trying to get to know you." He waggled a scrap of stationary. "Does the department know you're dating? Seems naughty. Is that against HIPA or something?" She flustered, red-faced. That note had been in Ian’s lunch. "OUT!" "I mean, I'm not judging. I like it. You'd think detective romances would get cliché but ugh." He pressed it to his heart. "There's something so enticing about seeing the ugliness of humankind hand-in-hand with the one you love. A real testament to love's resilience. Do you listen to Rihanna?" We Found Love belted from her speakers. Forget the psych eval, now she had to worry about the HOA. "What do you want, huh?!” Adria punched her stereo. “What do you want? Why are you here? Turn this OFF-" "I want to know what you want." He shrugged. "I want you to leave?! I’ve said a million times!" "No can do. Gonna need something more substantial. Unless, gasp." He made a show of patting down his slacks before producing a pen. The document it came with looked real and official. Spooky, until it came to 'Officer Hardass' at the top of a memo. It read "I forfeit my eternal soul to get Demetrius Marquette to GTFO" in gold. She looked down at the paper, head reeling. This was a fever dream. A nightmare. A joke, but she could feel the weight surrounding the document. Metaphysical. And as tempting as it would be to physically take his pen and jam it through his palm, five finger fillet- "NO." She shouted, chucking it back at him. "I'm not selling anything." Rihanna's chorus guttered and died. Its volume fell with his face. Hopeless indeed. "I don't get it." He huffed, impossibly exasperated. Like she was the one being objectively difficult here. "Why did you even summon me, then? What's the point?" "I didn't summon you, asshole! Some psychopath did!" "Huh." He pondered, deciding that did make more sense after-all. "...SO GO AWAY." "EeeeeEEEH. I don't think I will." He kicked back in the seat. A pair of sunglasses slid down his nose, gilded logo hitting the sun just right. How did a Dolce and Gabbana sales associate see him but not Ian? "You see. The problem is that I'm here now. I can't go home without something to show for it." "That's not my problem," Adria said, incredulously. "YOU are my problem! I don’t know who you think you are, but I don't owe you anything. You came onto my scene, jeopardized my career, made me look like an idiot, and now you're making my car smell like eggs!" Demetri recoiled. For a moment she thought she got through to him. Then it became abundantly clear it was just the egg part, actually. "Wow." He said. Hurt gave his voice a raspy edge. "Wow..." “So GO AWAY.” She tried for two. Three would be a taser. “You- you know what?” Demetri splayed his hands. “Fine. We’re done here. I’ll go-” “THANK YOU.” He scowled. “-I’ll go, but I will be back. And when I return, we're continuing this discussion in earnest. I hope, I sincerely hope Detective Kyro, that you think about it." She wouldn’t. But he vanished before she could say so. - - - By the time she got home, the scene was cleared. Since it had been cataloged ad nauseam, there was no need to report his partner’s lapse in sanity. Ian let it go. He covered her ass by risking his to shuffle in clean-up before anyone with a badge audited the damage. She got off easy. Despite earning every letter of a psych referral, confrontation fell away into 'unspoken' territory. He said nothing, but it was strongly encouraged by his cancellation of their Friday after-work happy hour that she take an extended weekend to 'rest.' That part he phoned in without her approval. Defeated, she threw off her jacket. She hooked her gun belt on a peg by the door. Her jeans were just going to burn- they were as good as cursed as far as she was concerned. There was nothing left to do but take a long, hot shower. Maybe she’d feel better if her skin ran hotter than the shame. The rest could be dealt with Monday. What choice did she have, really? She jammed a thumb through her braid. The plaits fell loose as she kicked off her boots, Adria went through the motions of attaining tentative comfort. And the moment she thought she could let it go (until she’d inevitably replay it at all again tonight) she smacked into the chest of someone in the bathroom. Her bathroom. This motherfucker made himself at home. “So,” His finger wound in the cord of her hairdryer. Freshly washed, and expertly coiffed, Demetri smelled exactly like her body wash. "Did you think about it?"

[kadavernagh]

Mistfaeken Identity || Regan & Winston

Winston wasn't exactly used to this stuff. They weren't sure what was going on but they were convinced that there had to be someway of getting their name back. But right now they weren't focused on any of the above, instead they were simply focused on making sure that they were able to get Regan out of her weird denial. She was insistent that what was happening to them wasn't possible. They weren't sure how she could find an excuse for everything that was clearly supernatural but it was an obvious skill. Tucking the loose end of their shirt in, they moved towards the morgue from the street, slipping inside they showed their ID to an obviously bored receptionist, before asking to be directed to Dr Kavanagh. "R... right sorry we're at work, Dr Kavanagh, are you free now?"

Regan couldn't make sense of this damn arm. One day it was nice and fresh, a clean slice through the humerus and surrounding muscle, and the next day she returned to find it a puddle of goo in the freezer. She'd had time to log the prints in IAFIS and pull up one Remmington McCallister as a match, but she'd barely had time for more than a cursory examination of the limb before it slipped right through her fingers. Somehow. Regan had just finished cleaning up -- bottling the remaining arm goo and putting it back in the freezer (checking twice to ensure the correct temperature setting) -- when the morgue door opened and none other than Maybe-Winston walked in. Ah, that was right. She'd invited them to come show that Photoshopped ID in person. Regan gave them a smile from beneath her surgical mask before looping it off her face and tossing it in the trash with her gloves. She waved toward the door. "Why don't we go into my office? I'm expecting intake to be down here with a new decedent any minute." Regan motioned to the office door right across the hall from the autopsy suite, and invited Maybe-Winston to take a seat. She leaned against the wall, not quite knowing where to begin. "So, umm... do you still not remember your name?"

Winston nodded as they strode in. They had half been ready to pull their ID out and jam it directly under Regan's nose so she had no choice but to admit that they had actually been right all along and she had infact been wrong. However, they were willing to be patient. "Sure, that sounds like a good idea." They weren't sure that they particularly wanted to see a dead body or have this conversation over heard by anymore people then was necessary. "Uh, so far I have not remembered my name," they replied with a sad sigh, "I don't understand it really." They took a seat at Regan's suggestion and shifted uncomfortably in their spot for a moment before speaking again. "There must be someway for me to reverse this, I just need to work out what that is..."

Regan was hit with an unexpected jab of sympathy as Maybe-Winston admitted they still didn't remember their name. There was pain in their eyes. This whole time, Regan was more concerned about the pathology of what happened that she hadn't taken Maybe-Winston's feelings into account. Now that she thought about it, it was probably incredibly distressing to remember everything about yourself, but your name. Feeling like something was missing or taken from you without knowing exactly what it was. She nodded in understanding, hoping that the gesture showed Maybe-Winston that she did care beyond just a diagnosis. "Let's... let's look at the facts," Regan said, mustering a small smile. "You don't remember your name. You do remember everything else about yourself. Er -- as far as we can tell. Do you remember the last time you said your name? That could help us figure out when exactly you may have sustained head trauma." She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth in thought. Unfortunately, reversing this probably wasn't going to be easy. "The good news is that often, this type of memory loss goes away on its own, given time."

Winston considered everything that Regan was saying. They however clearly did not remember any traumatic event and they did remember everything else. It seemed to them that there wasn't a conventional explanation for this. They were sure that there was a more supernatural explanation for all of this, but Regan wasn't exactly the type to be convinced by that. "Yeah, I guess ... I guess that is true. I don't remember any specific trauma and it's not like I have any bruises or bumps on my head." They tried to specifically remember the last time that they had said their first name. But aside from knowing that they must've said it to Regan, they couldn't remember a specific time. "I think, the last time I could've said it was to you, because you started calling me it first, before that I don't remember this being a problem." They shrugged, somewhat defeated.

Right. The restaurant. They kept circling back to that, and Regan knew it was correct. She hadn't pulled the name Winston out of thin air -- they had introduced themself that way. "You did say your name was Winston, right after I asked if I could have it." She twisted her lips in thought. "I didn't see you bump your head on anything. I would have asked about it, made sure you were okay." And while seeing that strange, scary dog (or possibly a frat boy in a leotard and mime mask) was traumatizing in its own way, the name confusion started before they'd stepped out of the restaurant, hadn't it? So this wasn't a psychological attempt to forget other occurrences from that night. "Has this ever happened to you before? Anything similar?"

Winston was sure that something had happened in the restaurant. "I cannot remember bumping it and like I said, no marks to make me think otherwise. You didn't see anything. So I don't really know." They shifted in their chair, moving from leaning to the left to leaning to the right and then to trying to sit perfectly in the middle. Failing in all regards. They had never had any of this happen to them that was even remotely similar. "I haven't got any experience with anything like that, this is the first time it's ever happened. Honestly, I have never ever had anything remotely like this. I had older relatives with alzheimers but I don't think this is the same thing."

Regan lifted herself from the wall and approached Maybe-Winston, taking a seat across from them. She was tempted to ask if she could palpate their head for bruises, but she didn't think that would go over well. Besides, it really sounded like this wasn't head trauma. Not the physical sort, anyways. "No, no, this isn't Alzheimer's." Regan shook her head. "How about that ID you brought me? Can I take a look?"

Raising an eyebrow thoughtfully, Winston patted their jeans and then their jacket in an attempt to locate their wallet. Finally finding it on the inside of their jacket they pulled out their wallet and fished out their ID, handing their driver's license over to Regan, they also pulled their passport out of their bag to show her the name again. "See, it is the whole like first name blurred and I don't know how I would manage to photoshop this stuff in really life, so you can help me out with that one I guess."

Regan felt her breath catch in her throat as Maybe-Winston dug around for their wallet. She knew the video that was sent to her online had to be doctored in some way, and that meant she had very little idea of what to expect from this actual ID in person. When Maybe-Winston had it in hand and displayed it for her, Regan squinted. It looked like someone had dropped one of those censorship blurs on television right over their name. "Do you mind?" She reached for the ID and held it up to the light, giving it a long, hard look. It was almost like there was movement around the blur, somehow. Like in the video they'd sent. But that's... well, maybe the ID had some kind of... screen, or something. It was a fake. Yes. That was it. "I-- I think someone took your real ID and replaced it with this one." Regan said slowly. Though she wanted to feel confident about that, the uncertainty was clear. "This makes me think that someone... somehow... did this to you. Have you looked for your birth certificate?"

Winston frowned. "I thought that maybe that would be the case," they replied, "I was almost convinced that I would get to the next piece of ID and it would be different, like normal. But anywhere where my name should be it appears like that. It doesn't have anything about my surname. Just whatever my first name should be." They frowned gently and began loading web pages and other versions of documents that had their name. Everything from their birth certificate, to letters addressed to them and even their facebook profile. "How do you explain that?" They asked with a frown. "I'm just as stumped as you are, this isn't ... normal, it shouldn't even be possible. The amount of work that this would've taken is ridiculous. So ... why me?"

Regan stared down at Maybe-Winston's phone as they pulled up other existing locations where their name would be stored. Blur. Blur. Blur. Every time. This wasn't just a case of head trauma, that much was clear. This was an organized attack against them. Regan's jaw dropped. "This is -- I've never seen anything like this before." Her eyes snapped to Maybe-Winston's. "Not only did someone make you forget your name, they also went through the effort of removing it in every single existing location." That meant... "That means they have access to our database." The seriousness of that statement made her mouth form a grave line. "Have you made any enemies here?"

Winston couldn't comprehend the refusal that Regan insisted on displaying. "There's literally no one, I don't know loads of people, I don't make enemies and I don't piss people off if you'll forgive my language." They tapped their fingers on their knees, adjusting their position once more. "There is no sense to it, there's no value to doing any of this, I've considered every possibility and I have considered every scenario that I could possibly think of." They had considered something else. "It seems unlikely that someone could do this and also make me forget all of this. At least not with anything that I know anything about." They raise their eyebrows and frowned a moment later. "You haven't thought maybe it could be something else?"

Maybe-Winston seemed on the verge of a mental breakdown and really, Regan couldn't blame them. It had to be devastating to lose such an important part of who you were. And of course, the fact that just about none of this made sense added to Regan's frustration. "You're sure?" Regan asked, with little conviction. Maybe-Winston seemed pretty damn sure that no one disliked them enough to pull such a cruel and elaborate prank. Plus, this was borderline impossible and almost certainly illegal, given that it touched on their private databases. "What do you mean by 'something else'? What else is there?"

Frowning, Winston shrugged gently before nodding. "Yeah I am pretty sure. It's not even like I have a hand in arrests, there aren't any criminals who don't like me or anything like that, at least none that I am aware of." They had tried to make an art form out of being unnoticed unless someone needed something from them. It had worked in school and college. Apparently all good things had to come to an end however. They ran a fingernail along the edge of the chair's seat, chewing on their lip thoughtfully. "I don't have an answer for something else, but this is a large scale event to some degree and that means that there has to be some explanation for what this was. Why would anyone go to all this effort to do this? It's breaking several data protection laws if nothing else. This doesn't seem worth it over a name."

Regan nudged her chair closer to Maybe-Winston's, trying to offer them a sympathetic smile. It did not come easily; this felt like a rather grave situation. "I... I wish I had the answer to that question. And it's driving me crazy that there's no clear explanation." She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "I'm sorry that this happened to you, Wi-- Dane. I really am. Would you at least consider getting an MRI so we can be sure there's no apparent damage? It seems like a place to start. Maybe the only place to start." Though at this point, she knew neither of them thought this was strictly head trauma. A thought occurred to her. "What if... what if someone did this to steal your identity?"

Pausing for a moment, Winston wasn't sure that they wanted to think about what the bill for an MRI would be like. They were sure that it wasn't going to be good. They were also sure that this wasn't necessary, but maybe if it would help convince Regan that there was something else going on here then it would be worth it. "I don't think anyone has an explanation right now and whilst I hope that it get's worked out I'm aware that sometimes these things don't always go ... perfectly." Winston shrugged. "I considered identity theft and I guess maybe it could be that, but why use all these resources on a college student who's an intern at the station? What does it gain them? I don't have loads of cash, I don't have any access really..." they shrugged, "I guess it's a possibility but it seems remote."

"Identity theft makes the most sense, but I agree it's... more than a little strange that someone would go such great lengths. And that they stole your identity of all people." Regan didn't like this at all. "I'm going to look into this, okay?" Regan stood up, then bent down in front of Maybe-Winston to meet their eyes. "We're going to figure out what happened here and get this fixed. I don't have an answer for you today, but... there is one out there, I know it." Today, though, there was nothing she could do. Regan lifted herself back up and sighed, holding the door open. Maybe-Winston looked about ready to leave -- still rather dejected. “Let’s check back in with each other soon.”

[rocket-remmy]

[pm] So, um -- this arm. I'd like to give you an examination, if you're receptive to it. The prints on the limb match your file on IAFIS.

[pm] Yeah, because it’s my arm. I already told you that.

Uh, sure. Yeah. I can do that.

[surescreening12]

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[nocontextgaygroupquotes]

“‘How do you spell your name?’

‘IAFIS’

‘How’s that pronounced?’

‘Kaitlyn’”

[pdfsayar]

Test 11. Sınıf Çember

Test 11. Sınıf Çember

10 sonuç bulundu. Dosya Boyutu Önizleme Bağlantıları İndirme Bağlantıları Çemberde Açı Ve Uzunluk Çalışma SorularıB Buna göre, IDEI kaç cm dlr? O merkezli yanm çemberde IDFI = FEI IAFI 3 IFCI = 4 D) 2Nî E) NS O merkezli yanm çember K ve L de Oçgene te§ettir.Kaynak: https://fehmiekici.files.wordpress.com/2011/09/c3a7emberde-ac3a7c4b1-ve-uzunluk-c3a7alc4b1c59fma-sorularc4b1.pdf 2639…

[borobudurnews]

Mayat Perempuan Tanpa Identitas Ditemukan Di Sungai Daerah Tegalrejo Magelang

Mayat Perempuan Tanpa Identitas Ditemukan Di Sungai Daerah Tegalrejo Magelang

BNews–MAGELANG– Warga Tegalrejo Kabupaten Magelang digegerkan dengan penemuan mayat perempuan tanpa identitas kemarin (27/2/2022). Tepatnya di bebetuan alur sungai Bolong Dusun Njurip Desa Ngasem Kecamatan Tegalrejo. Setelah temuan tersebut, warga melaporkannya ke pihak kepolisian. Dan tidak berselang lama Tim Iafis Polres Magelang bersama anggota Polsek Tegalrejo meluncur ke lokasi…