#ica stones

[ownencyclopedia]

☀Ica stones

The Ica Stones are a collection of andesite stones from the Ica Province in Peru, known for their engraved motifs. Largely regarded to be modern hoaxes , the stones in some cases utilize art styles from various pre-Columbian Peruvian civilizations and often depict anachronistic scenes or objects, including dinosaurs and advanced technology.

_________________________________________

Peru’s enigmatic Ica Stones have been puzzling historians and scientists for many decades. Allegedly found in ancient tombs, the library of engraved rocks displayed at the private Cabrera Museum facility in the village of Ica, Peru, contains clear dinosaurian representations. Dinosaur drawings from pre-Colombian cultures are highly problematic for the prevailing theory that all dinosaurs became extinct before man evolved.

[bestcryptids]

Interesting footnote in the ica stones story- one of the guys who first "uncovered" them, Javier Cabrera Darquea, claimed that one of them showed a "prehistoric fish". Could he have been claiming that the stones showed a South American species of coelacanth?

[m3rcuryxd2763]

Well, according to the poll I made, Stone and Monica's ship name will be Stonica! Also if you're wondering the pronunciation, then either st-oh-nica or st-on-ica👍

[thecheesiestcheese23]

the hand that feeds (and the heart that bleeds)

47 was an unknown and innominate man whose mind was a gaping maw of death and destruction; who was a blight upon some and a freak of nature to others. He thought he was nothing more, could be nothing more.

Until he remembered.

Until Six.

Until Lucas.

--

hello!! this is my first time writing anything in like,,, ever so please don't judge lmao. i recently got into this game and the lore and storyline is soso good compared to other fandoms i've been in recently.

for some notes: this is mainly based off of the trilogy, however i have added some aspects of the old games and from what i've seen of the comics. also, i have not read the comics, so i have taken some liberties on them. the title is loosely based off of ozymandias by percy bysshe shelly (which is a really good read) and i def recommend. ALSO if anyone has any song recommendations for my hitman playlist pls drop a comment ty.

please do enjoy!

words: 4.6k

--

A timeless chasm tears open within his mind, the hungered mouth swallowing everything that he knew.

“This is your gift.” An empty voice speaks to him and a blank-faced boy. He blinks, and the boy dissipates into ash. “Your gift, and your curse.” A heavy hand rests upon his shoulder (upon his mind and his memories, burying them) and squeezes, a nameless man looming above him. A voice booms from the man, and yet he only shows a vacant visage. “To touch lives only by ending them.”

--

Agent 47 was no stranger to being called a machine.

He's heard it from other ICA agents spread through gossip, an off-handed comment from Diana, an insult spat from the lips of Soders as he died. He let it fester, doing nothing to stop it. It had never bothered him before: let people think what they will.

After all, it was partially true in some form, not that he remembered- he was genetically modified for killing, his bare atoms torn apart and made into an unempathetic and inhumane killer. He was a twisted and unsettling imitation of a man, a vicious mockery of what he should have been. An improbable being made of stone and dust where blood that is not his own drips down his body and pools beneath his feet.

Before he remembered, 47 thought he could be nothing more. The call of death hummed in his veins with the handle of a knife fitting perfectly within the palm of his calloused hand. It was all he knew since waking up in the asylum, knowing nothing more than the most effective way to kill and how the recoil of a gun felt.

The ICA had given him a sense of purpose. A home, of sorts. Diana, in turn, appeared in his life, a constant presence in his ear, her quick-witted humor and steady voice filling in the void where he knew someone else should be.

The thought would give him pause at moments, which was unlike him. 47 knew he didn’t remember much of anything beyond the art of death, but there was always this pressing feeling that there was more that he should know. It settled like ash on his tongue, sour and grainy.

The only proof that he held of this feeling was the polaroid clutched between his thumb and forefinger. Angry eyes stared back at him, a cold blue that mirrored his own detached ones. It was him- he was sure of it. The picture sat heavy in his scarred palm, an unnamed weight tied to it.

47 sees the face every time he blinks his eyes, an unknown slate of himself pushing against his eyelids, a haunting image following him wherever he goes. It presses down on his shoulders, bears down on his violent mind. He leans back in the leather chair that sat in the hotel room, the material squeaking in protest for a moment. There had been points over his time employed at the ICA where he had wondered if his past was really worth remembering.

His eyes slid over to the open briefcase on the made bed, the light from the windows catching on the sliver of the guns and the glass of the bottles. He remembers what Diana had told him over the phone call, her smooth voice crackling over the phone, over the many continents that separated them.

“I, too, know what it’s like to have everything taken from you.” Diana admitted, her voice tinny over the phone. 47 says nothing, letting her speak. “He claims to know about your past; your childhood, your memories, everything Ort-Meyer stole from you.”

Would it be worth it? To join Providence just to remember his past? More importantly, how did Providence know who he used to be? There had to be something more than what they were telling Diana.

He didn’t know if it was worth it. It was as if the world had just spat him out; opened up to a gaping maw where he was made not from a mother or father but from death itself. If that was all he remembered, then maybe there was a reason for that.

47 slides the photo into his pocket, smoothing it over as he stands up fluidly from the chair. With a snap, he closes the briefcase and takes it in hand. There was little else for him to take- he never left a trace of himself anywhere. (Distantly, somewhere far away, a rosary hangs from a wooden gate, swaying softly in the wind.)

He strides out the door, a ghost in everything but name.

--

The first memory 47 could recall was of a snow white rabbit.

It was a runaway lab rabbit with beady red eyes and silky fur. The first time 47 had met it, it had been hidden underneath his bed. Curious, he reached his hand out to grab it, yet it had scurried away.

He was unsure of what to do, how to continue. It was unnerving.

47 did not know how to be kind.

Over the expanse of a few weeks, 47 taught himself how to care. He cared for it as well as he knew how- he fed it scraps from dinner and water smuggled from lunch. Slowly, it no longer flinched away from 47’s heavy hand- it leant towards it instead, like a flower to the sun.

He was surprised by the softness of it all. The kindness it exhibited. It was a feeling 47 had never experienced before and it acted as reprieve from the constant tests and pain that the Institute provided.

He knew Ort-Meyer didn’t approve- he made it known with condescending glances and patronizing words, saying that boys like him didn’t need unimportant attachments to such things. Still, he did nothing to remove it, so 47 kept it.

Unlike everything else at the institute, it was gentle- forgiving, even. It was not jagged at the edges or venomous in its words.

And then there was Six.

47 eyes the boy in his room, ever untrusting. The boy (who he distantly recognizes as Subject 6) sputters for a moment, standing up straight from where he was crouched over the rabbit. “You’re supposed to be on a mission.”

47 nods slowly, analyzing the room. Six continues. “I had just heard you had this rabbit. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

He tilts his head, thinking. “It is… alright. You are Subject Six, no?”

Six nods, seemingly more relaxed than the other. “Yes. And everyone knows who you are, 47.” He looks to the rabbit and then back again. “I did not mean to intrude. I can leave if you wish.”

He nods again. “You can… visit more often, if you like. The company would be enjoyable. You do not seem like the others.”

The boy smiles, almost giddily, and 47 is taken aback for a moment.

The next two years pass in a similar motion- the two becoming closer and closer by the day.

That was, until 47 came back to a dead rabbit.

Six was away on a mission, so there was no one for him to turn to. He knelt down before the dead rabbit where it was beaten senseless and bloody, the red blood seeping into the cold concrete below. The other boys had always been particularly cruel. Something burns in his eyes, and before he can blink whatever it was away, it drips down his cheeks.

He stays there, broken and crying before his bloodied rabbit.

--

Streaks of blood stream down Wazier Kale’s forehead. A smoking gun is hidden away, slipped behind the black void that is 47’s suit.

“The infamous Maelstrom is dead.” Diana hums in his ear. “Excellent work, 47.”

47 sometimes wondered about the people he killed. About the families and dreams they left behind; about the opportunities not yet taken. About their life- their past. He wondered what it was like to have the opportunity to be something.

It wasn’t something he enjoyed thinking about often.

“Mission accomplished.” Diana says, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Time to find an exit. It’s almost too bad we can’t stay for a vacation. Lovely weather this time of year.” She jokingly muses, humming and not expecting a reply.

47, as expected, says nothing as he leaves the building. He leaves no trace behind: the gunshot unheard in the loudness of the streets, the gun unregistered, and he easily blends into the crowd.

Diana had asked years upon years ago about his past. About who he was. All he had to answer her with was a number made name and the suit he wore. If asked now by her, he would say that he was a hitman. A contract killer. Others would say that he was a freak of nature, an animal in the skin of a human. As he slid into the cab, to the people wandering the street, he was nothing more than a man.

His back is set in a straight line, the guns resting at his hips barely noticeable. The cab rolls over the brick of the road, and it takes a few minutes before Diana speaks. Usually, the two wouldn’t speak until 47 was back in a safehouse, so he listens intently to her words, wondering if something had gone wrong.

“Agent 47,” Diana breathes, and to anyone else, she would sound impassive, but 47 knows better. She sounds almost giddy, yet she tries to reel it in with a front of professionalism.

He says nothing, not wanting to freak out the cab driver, so he just hums.

“I have been tracking any suspicious purchases of large or abandoned buildings lately after the dismantlement of the base in Colorado, and just now, I have received a notice that an abandoned building out in Romania has been purchased by an antonyms investor with the use of cryptocurrency. It has to be Lucas Grey.”

Lucas Grey. The Shadow client. The man they’ve been hunting for the past year. To have this much of a lead on him would allow 47 to put an end to this once and for all.

But this is almost too easy. Grey has been covering up his tracks well enough over the past year that even Providence hasn’t been able to track him.

“But,” Diana continues, taking the words right out of his mouth. “Even if this does end up to be Grey, it still very much could be a trap.”

The cab sputters to a stop with the driver shouting something in Marathi, and 47 takes that as his cue to get out. He gives the cab driver more than what the fee would have been, but he’s gone by the time the cab driver can process this.

“It is the most we’ve had on him in the past year.” Agent 47 says smoothly, not agreeing or disagreeing on Diana’s hesitance as he strolls on the long-since abandoned sidewalks towards the airport.

“It is.” She agreed, and he can faintly hear typing in the background. “The plan is to wait for a few weeks to monitor the place; see if there will be anyone else entering or leaving the compound.”

He’s silent for a moment before Diana continues.

“47, this is the only way to return your memories. To learn what Ort-Meyer has stolen from you. Don’t you think it’s time to get some closure?”

47 thinks of a polaroid burned long ago. Of angry blue eyes. Of a past long lost. Of a boy he killed.

He finds that he agrees with Diana.

--

47 and Six run through the forest with nothing but the clothes on their backs and each other. Gunfire rings out, bullets lodging themselves in the wood of trees and the soft dirt of the ground.

They duck beneath branches and hop over streams of water, silent as they could be. Their breaths stay quiet and even, trusting in the other to follow them wordlessly as they continue through the endless forest. Their feet sink into the soft earth as down-pouring rain splattered down around them, drenching their jumpsuits as they blinked the water out of their eyes.

“The rain’s good.” Six had whispered to 47 after they had taken out the guards at the main entrance, hovering close behind him. “It’ll cover our tracks.”

47 swiped the access card he had stolen from Ort-Meyer earlier. He was the only one who could get close enough to do so. “It can cover theirs too.” He said, sparing a glance at Six as the door soundlessly unlocked.

The two had been planning this for months on end through hushed voices after dark and on assignments, not wanting to be caught by Ort-Meyer or any of the guards. Finally, they had put their plan into motion: a piece of concrete broken off from the underside of the cafeteria tables had been all they needed to distract a guard and strangle him with a homemade fiber wire. They choke out the others, snap the necks of some, and kill the rest with silenced pistols.

The smell of earth and the taste of liberation on their tongues was a heady feeling.

Now the two sprint towards the promise of freedom with bullets flying at their backs, never taking a moment to rest when they knew it could be their last. 47 dutifully followed Six, never faltering or doubting for a moment.

That was, until he tumbled forward onto the wet and slick ground below. He slides for a moment, unsure of what had happened until a dull pain spreads throughout his shoulder. One of the guards had gotten him. Grunting silently, he pushes himself up with his good arm to his feet, staggering for a moment.

In an instant, Six is by his side, a question on the tip of his tongue before 47 shakes his head. “I’m fine. We need to go.”

Six stares at him for a moment, assessing, before nodding his head in a sharp jerk and taking 47 by the good bicep to encourage him along. “C’mon, 47, aren’t you supposed to be the best of us?” He attempts to joke as they continue running, but it falls flat. Still, 47 finds it within himself to huff a laugh.

They continue to run, only this time side by side with Six clenching his bicep in a death grip as if he was afraid he was going to disappear if he let up for even one second. At least with the movement, he could feel that the bullet had gone clean through, so there was no need to dig it out once they were safe.

Yet safety never came.

With another two resounding gunshots, 47 felt a bullet lodge in his lower stomach, and if knowing by some innate feeling, he shoves Six out of the way to get another bullet lodged in his leg instead of his brother’s.

He tumbles down once more, a wet gasp leaving his mouth as his injured leg connects to the ground below.

“Why would you take that bullet, you-!” Six knelt down beside him, fluttering hands skating over the wounds, not knowing how to help in a moment of panic for his brother. “Shit! 47- fuck, come on, you need to get up!”

“Six.” 47 gasped, more so in fear for his brother than for himself. The barking of dogs and the pounding of footsteps only grew closer. “You need to run.”

“No, come on, I am not leaving you. Not here. Not in their clutches.” Six shakes his head, resolute. 47's heart throbs in anguish. And then his wounds sear in pain as Six attempts to pick him up. He was always the more hopeful of the two.

47, in one last attempt, gets up with the help of his brother before he lurches forward in pain. He knew that even with three bullet holes in him, he would still be able to run, but he would only end up hindering Six. Closing his eyes, he shakes his head. “You need to run.” He repeats.

Six protests immediately. “No-”

“I’ll only slow you down. You and I both know this.” He insists steadily as he stumbles away slowly, acceptance slowly blooming within his gut.

“I’ll carry you. You’ll heal. I can’t go on without you. I won’t know how.” Six continues on, distress clearly showing in the lines of his body.

“The bullet is still in my leg. I won’t make it long without proper medical care.”

“I’ll dig it out myself-”

“Six.” 47 interrupts him, speaking through a mouth full of blood. It dribbles down his chin and stains him. “Please.”

He was never one for words, and he never begged, not for anything, but for his brother, he would do anything. He would get down on his knees before the altar of a long-forgotten god and beg for his safety, he would cut out his heart if Six needed it, he would kill for him, die for him, return to that god-forsaken institute for him. ”Live your life for me. For the both of us. Be free.”

He hesitates for a moment, but 47 can see the dawning realization on his face. His older brother swallows harshly, encapsulating one of his hands in both of his. “I’ll come back for you, okay? I’m- I’m not just going to leave you here.”

He should tell him no. He should tell him to run and forget about everything that has happened here. About the Institute. About Ort-Meyer. About the torture, the experiments, the pain and suffering.

About him.

But he allows himself to be selfish, to hope one last time. He nods shakily, drawing in a deep breath. “Okay.”

Six squeezed his hand, yet the ever-increasing closeness of the guards spurred him away. He disappears into the foliage, looking back one last time before the forest swallows him whole. 47 pitched forward, catching himself on the rough bark of a tree as black spots danced in his vision.

With a shuddering sigh, he forces himself back up and makes his legs move in a different direction, intent on leading the soldiers away. He makes as much noise as possible before he heaves forward, a tangle of limbs on the ground.

The last thing he sees before he passes out is the looming building of the Institute that hovers over the tree line and the muzzle of a Weatherby Vanguard pointed at his face.

The black void engulfs his vision, grief and blood heavy on his tongue.

--

The place, just as Diana had described it, was deserted.

And familiar.

It was familiar in a way you had something at the tip of your tongue, yet couldn't name it. The way a dream slips away. The way you walk into a room and forget why you’re there.

“He’s here.” 47 says as he approaches it.

The dilapidated building stood crumbling yet tall with vines crawling along the stone sides and in through the broken windows. Getting there had 47 traversing through acres upon acres of foliage with only Diana there to guide him at points. There was something odd about this forest, however. At points, there would be bullets deeply ingrained into the trees or embedded into the dirt below.

“The breadcrumbs were almost too easy to follow, 47. This could be a trap-” Diana’s voice wavers for a moment before being forcibly cut off.

“Not a trap.” He muses to himself as a window flickers to life with light.

The gate swung open easily, creaking. If this was any other mission, he would have found another way in.

Deep down however, with a churning gut and unknown past, he knows he knew this building. He loads his gun.

“An invitation.”

Now it was time to find out how.

--

47 sits straight in an uncomfortable chair, the cold of it seeping into his bones. His head is held high as he stares at Ort-Meyer’s back as the man hunches over, fiddling with something.

Resentment pools within his gut and hatred burns the back of his throat.

It would be so easy to slam Ort-Meyer’s head down into the metal table until his face was nothing more than flesh stuck to his palms, but he had to bide his time before his next escape attempt. Six had already gotten out, and that was more than enough for now. To know that his brother was free from the Institution's clutches gave him more than enough hope that he could get out next.

His thigh, shoulder, and stomach all throb in a distant reminder of what had happened: not in pain, but as a dull memory; the wounds have all long since healed. 47 grits his teeth and bides his time.

The rest of his brothers had already been killed or had been placed in another part of the building, but he knew that he wasn’t going to be next. If he was going to be, they would have put him down in that forest. He was too useful to them. He was the perfect clone.

‘Too useful to waste.’ Ort-Meyer apparently agreed with this sentiment.

Something akin to fear settles deep beneath his skin when Ort-Meyer turns back around, filled syringe in hand. The man begins to pace, circling around 47. He tenses and his nails dig into the metal of the chair, leaving crevices behind.

“47,” Ort-Meyer begins, voice even. “I understand your actions. You felt trapped, scared. 6 had been tormenting you for so long."

Confusion paints his face white, but he refuses to show any fear. He swallows harshly as the doctor continues.

“It would only make sense for you to lash out like how you did. However, I would prefer it if you only kill the people we ask you to, 47.”

“What do you mean, father?” 47 asks, fingers twitching as he stares at Ort-Meyer’s neck. Dread pools in his gut and a feeling of wrongness weighs him down.

Ort-Meyer hums in compilation, and 47 hates like never before. “How you killed your tormentor, 6, after he pushed you too far, of course. How he had bullied you for years upon years until you snapped. How you had fled the facility in fear, thinking that we would punish you for such a deed. However, that is not the case. 47."

His heart hammers within his chest, and fear thrums in his nerves. Why is Ort-Meyer telling him this? Did they kill Six? Did they find him? Bile rises up to his throat.

He flicks the tip of the syringe, examining how the light reflects off of the liquid. “We are impressed by your so-called escape, even at the loss of Six. The thoughtfulness you exhibited when you hid his body, made a fiber wire out of a window sill and broom, oiled the door hinges to prevent them from making noise, and shot the guard dog with a bow and arrow is impressive. We cannot let such talent go to waste.”

‘No,’ 47 thinks, an indescribable feeling of dread washing over him. ‘They found him. They killed him. Six is dead because of me.’ “That’s not what happened, father.” 47 says steadily, but his voice sounds shaky even to him. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Ort-Meyer stops behind him, and alarm bells set off deep within him, making him nauseous. “When we’re done here, 47,” Ort-Meyer caresses his head in a mockery of a loving touch, thumbing over the bar code at the back of his head as if he was trying to comfort him. 47 wants to kill him. The prick of a needle at his throat stings for only a moment, and a feeling of numbness settles over him like a scratchy blanket. ���It will be.”

--

A shattered mirror lies at the top of a staircase.

The broken pieces jut out like a venus flytrap, and 47 can see the faint traces of blood coating them. 47 stares at himself for a moment, his body broken up and spread through the many pieces.

An angry blue-eyed boy watches him. He blinks, and 47 stares back.

The inside of the building was just as broken down as the outside suggested. Mildew and mold coated the walls, wallpaper torn and spiderwebs crawling along every surface available. 47 stalked forward, following the twisting and turning halls easily as if he knew them like the back of his hand.

The place seemed to be void of any personality: the wallpare a musty green and the flickering lights a sickly yellow, aged with time- yet it gave him this peculiar and inexplicable feeling of home. It sickened him like never before.

His free hand trailed along the decaying walls, something akin to unease settling in the pit of his stomach. There was something about this place that made him want to flee and never look back. It was strange and left him uneasy like never before.

A flickering light beckoned him forward, and shoving everything aside, he followed.

In front of a gaping hole stood Lucas Grey, his silhouette cutting against the harsh light of the afternoon sun. 47 steadied his gun, arm straight and true, yet something made him hesitate.

“You can home.” A haunting voice came from the man, gun in hand. He shifts it so that he held it by the muzzle, turning ever so slightly so he can look 47 in the eye. ”I knew you would.” Grey tosses the gun aside into a puddle, the water rippling for a moment as 47 looks on in muted surprise. “You’ve come a long way, 47. And even now, you don’t remember.”

47 should shoot him down where he stands. He shouldn’t prolong this any longer, but he doesn’t pull the trigger. “This place…” he begins.

“This was our prison.” Grey interrupts, hatred coating his words. He spits the words out like a curse, as if they burned on his tongue. He turns around, and 47’s head pounds. “Where father trained us, shaped us into killers for Providence.”

He stalks forward, gun hand never wavering, but what Grey says next gives him pause. “Now you don’t remember, they ripped it out of you, wiped it away, but I do. I remember everything.”

A hand on his shoulder. A comforting presence. A house yet not a home.

47 shakes his head, finger ghosting the trigger. ”You’re a terrorist with nothing to lose. You’d say anything.” Grey moves to the left, towards the wall, and 47 nearly makes him a smear upon the wall.

The man squats down and digs his fingers into the wall, tearing it away. Two bloodied handprints sit there, and 47’s hand stings in a reminder. The muzzle of the gun is pressed to the back of Lucas’ head as a reminder.

He swallows harshly. “I know it’s difficult. You never miss your mark or question your function. But we made a pact, you and I.”

47 stares at his scarred palm. He had forgone gloves for this mission, and now the matching X on his palm stands out more than ever. Lucas turns, and emotions that 47 can’t catch paint his face. “Do this… we both lose.”

47 remembers little but he knew he was a killer in more ways than one. “There was an incident. That boy… he died by my hands.”

“He lived.” Lucas says, the words dripping out of his mouth like nectar. “Because of you.” He fluidly stands, gray eyes boring into his own, searching frantically. “Don’t you remember his name?” He asks desperately, pressing forward, only stopped by the barrel of a gun kissing his forehead. ”You know this. Deep down, you know. What was his name?”

A forest. A promise. Pain and hope. A brother.

Six.

He raises his gun, hand twitching. “Subject Six. Your name is Subject Six.”

“And what is our purpose?”

Suffering. Experiments. Killing. Flesh tearing anew.

“To destroy them all.”

--

please excuse if the characters are ooc, i haven't written these characters before so i'm still trying to get the hang of writing them. i hope you all enjoyed it! i may write some more on this fandom later on! :)

[nokingsonlyfooles]

This is a meme, isn't it? A predigital meme. Everyone in Mesoamerica wants a "I can haz wizdom?" dog sculpture!

I should add, if you find one of these at the mercado, with the dinosaurs...?

That's modern art made for tourists, who like dinosaurs and ancient aliens.

I'm not sayin' I don't want one, just be aware of the vintage.

So many notes ppl confused by corn wielding Colima dog wait until you see the dancing figures…..blow your mind. Teach you true love

[peridotglimmer]

Diana/47 and number 11 for the Spooky prompts? (I'm a sucker for a good Gothic mansion!)

Happy Halloween! This was supposed to be spooky, and then it became sugary sweet fluff so uh... *chucks ficlet onto dash and runs away*!

--

Diana frowned as she parked her car, double-ckecking that she had gotten the coordinates right.

"There's nothing here," she muttered to herself. Why would 47 have her come here at dusk? It wasn't like him to leave notes for her lying around in the safehouse, but it also wasn't possible for anyone to have entered the grounds without them knowing about it. So the message on the dining room table had to be his.

Suddenly, she spotted a red ribbon in between all the greenery surrounding her. As she approached it, she realised that it wasn't a ribbon: it was a man's necktie. One she knew very well. It was tied to a cast iron door handle. She pushed down, and the gate, completely hidden by the plants and bushes, opened up to reveal a long, narrow cobblestone path flanked by rows of trees, leading up to the back of a Victorian mansion that looked like it had been plucked straight from the pages of Dracula.

Diana's heels clicked on the stone, making her way to the imposing building. When she neared the garden front, she noticed a trail of ICA Outstanding Performance coins leading away from the main building, towards the conservatory. Chuckling to herself, she crouched down and picked one up, following the arrow shape they had been laid out in.

The lights were off in the conservatory, but small lanterns were casting a golden glow onto the impressive collection of plants. The relative warmth inside was a welcome contrast to the cold October air Diana left behind her once she entered the glass building. A figure in a navy-coloured dress stood in the centre of the room.

"Victoria?" Diana asked, stepping closer so she could hug the girl who had become her adopted daughter of sorts. "Hi," Victoria replied. She handed Diana a white rose, its thorns removed. "This is for you. Wait here." Then Victoria walked away, leaving Diana by herself in the middle of the conservatory.

"I had a speech prepared, but I'm not sure I'll be able to recite it now." Diana jumped at the sudden comment from a familiar voice, and spun around. 47 was sitting on one knee, clad in a suit that matched Victoria's dress. Diana suddenly understood why her favourite dark blue blouse had been laid out for her after her shower this afternoon. "47, I..." "I really just need an answer." He pulled a small box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal a delicate ring set with diamonds and what she assumed were rubies. "Yes," Diana whispered without a single moment of hesitation. "Yes." She watched with bated breath and trembling hands as 47 slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. When he stood up, she pulled him in for a kiss, and didn't release him until her need for oxygen made her lightheaded.

Diana Rieper-Burnwood certainly had a nice ring to it.

--

Note: The building 47 sent Diana to is modelled after Harlaxton Manor.

[gvzelarchiveeee]

*      diane guerrero   .   cis woman   .   she/her   .      /      that’s   fabienne   ramirez stone  walking    into   mama's bakery   -   you   know   ,   the   thirty6   year   old   former   actress   known   for   being   a   successful   emmy   award   winning   actress   but   not   returning   back   on   screen   after   her   marriage      ?   having   lived   here   for   three   years   ,   their   neighbors   know   them   to   be   caring   &   loyal   ,   but   their   stubborn   &   insecure   tendencies   shine   through   when   there   are   no   buses   in   the   city   .   － penned by dee. she/her. 26. gmt+1.

📎 : interactions , pinterest , wanted connections

hellowies   ,   it's   your   girl   dee   again   with   another   muse   teheh .   you   know   the   stepsss;   like   this   post   or   never   hesitate   to   message   me   for   plots   !

⚠️   trigger   warning!   this   bio   contains   subjects   such   as:   loss of family members,

*   =   means   wanted   connection   !

BIOGRAPHY :

NAME    :    fabienne    ramirez   -   stone

NICKNAME(S)    :    fab,   fabi

DATE    OF    BIRTH    :    september    20    1987    (36)

PLACE    OF    BIRTH    :    princeton   ,   new   jersey

PARENTS    :    maria   vargas    ramirez    (mother),    andrés    ramirez    (father)

SIBLINGS    :    3   siblings ˒    ﹏   ramirez   (   30   )   *   open ˒    ﹏   ramirez   (   39   )   *   open ˒    ﹏   ramirez   (   42   )   *   open

LANGUAGES    :    english   &   spanish

OCCUPATION    :    former   actress   ,   currently   unemployed

RELATIONSHIP    STATUS    :    married   to   joseph    stone (    +    )    positive    traits    :    caring   &   loyal (    -    )    negative    traits    :    stubborn   &   insecure

AGE 0 － 10 :

fabienne   was   born   into   a   loving   household.   a   big   family   living   together   with   their   grandparents   (her   father's   parents).

she   grew   up   in   a   household   where   there   was   a   lot   talent.   her   grandparents   fell   in   love   after   meeting �� each   other   when   they   were   both   casted   in   a   musical   play.   her   grandfather   was   the   leader   of   a   musical   director   and   her   grandmother   was   a   stage   director.   both   they   have   been   doing   shows   together   and   they   were   really   succesful   too.

all   her   siblings,   cousins   would   be   sitting   by   the   fire   pit   and   listen   to   the   lovey-dovey   story   of   their   grandparents   falling   in   love   together.

their   dad   is   really   musically   too.   he   loves   to   play   the   piano   and   that's   definitely   something   he   taught   his   children.

their   mom   is   amazing   in   art.   their   house   was   decorated   with   beautifully   self-made   art.   whether   it   was   a   beautiful   painting   or   a   ceramic   vase.

fabienne   has   been   interested   in   theater   since   she   was   five.   she   would   dress   up   everyday   and   come   out   her   room;   pretending   to   have   a   big   show   going   on.

their   grandparents   would   often   take   them   to   different   kind   of   musicals   and   spend   time   together.

AGE 10 － 25 :

sadly,   at   the   age   of   twelve   her   grandmother   passed   away   and   just   a   year   later   her   grandfather   passed   away.

fabienne   continued   in   doing   theater   and   at   the   age   of   fifteen   she   got   her   first   role   in   a   short   grocery   store   commercial.

no   matter   how   old   she   got;   every   time   whenever   she   got   a   new   role   it   would   remind   her   of   how   possibly   proud   her   grandparents   were   of   her.

after   her   first   short   role   in   a   commercial   she   got   offered   to   be   a   part   of   different   kind   of   tv   shows   ;   (   shows   such   as   hannah   montana   ,   icarly   ,   victorious   ,   superior   donuts   ,   jane   the   virgin   ,   modern   family   ,   new   girl   -   vibe   ish   etc.   mostly   sitcoms   )

after   getting   a   lot   of   roles   in   tv   shows   she   also   got   a   few   movie   roles;   not   just   romcoms   but   also   ones   with   lots   of   action.

AGE 26 － 36 :

at   the   age   of   26   she   got   her   first   emmy   award;   and   that   was   only   the   beginning.

when   turning   30   she   had   already   receiver   10   emmy   awards   for   her   acting   in   different   kind   of   roles.   she   wasn't   acting   to   just   receive   emmy's;   she   was   acting   because   she   loved   to.   and   no   matter   how   old   she   got;   she   kept   wondering   how   proud   her   grandparents   would've   been   of   her.

no   matter   the   much   fame   she   had,   she   always   visited   back   home   at   least   once   a   month   to   see   her   parents   and   her   family.   they   always   welcomed   her   with   open   arms   and   always   kept   rooting   for   her   with   every   step   she   took.

at   the   age   of   __   she   started   dating   joseph   stone,   a   heir   by   then.   the   soon   their   names   hit   the   tabloids;   the   less   project   offers   she   was   getting.   despite   that   her   name   was   still   on   the   tabloids.   with   every   step   she   took;   the   paparazzi   would   follow   her   and   the   day   after   she   would   find   herself   on   every   social   media.   of   course;   she   should've   been   used   by   now   to   see   herself   on   newspapers   or   on   social   media   news   channels,   but   more   because   of   her   new   projects   or   either   because   she   had   received   again   an   award.   but   this   time,   people   would   judge   the   way   she   dressed   or   just   talk   about   her   relationship   with   joseph.

more   tba   about   marriage   with   joseph   stone   !

if   you’re   interested   in   plotting   with   me,   hit   the   ♡   button   and   i’ll   come   and   bother   you!   or   you   can   always   send   me   a   message,   too.   i   also   am on   discord   so   if   you   feel   like   plotting   on   there   we   totally   can!

[archivelondonfalling-rpg]

Things to do in London in February

VALENTINE's DAY is just around the corner. Who will your character cosy up to in those chilly days of February?

Snatch those Ellie Goulding or Carly Rae Jepsen tickets before they're gone. Or perhaps would you rather head in CAMDEN for the Rock music festival?

Dance, dine and have the time of your life. That's what Mamma Mia! The Party promises on their poster. If I were you, I wouldn't miss it.

Van Gogh : the immersive experience : Art fans and instagramers alike have been flocking to this exhibit.

If you prefer to support your contemporary artists, the ICA is celebrating their 75th anniversary. Take to the dancefloor and prepare for a spirited evening. 

The ROYAL CORONATION walking tour takes you on a trip down the history of British coronation. This is certainly something that will delight tourists and those who enjoy the quirkiness of it all. Is it the place to voice your distaste for monarchy or the new king? Who am I to say.

Head to the pub, order a schooner or a pint and enjoy the Six Nations rugby tournament with your pals !

Or, if you're more interested in good ol' football : the men's Champions league resumes on Valentine's Day, so now would be a good time to tell the love of your life about it !

Former US presidential candidate BERNIE SANDERS will be doing a book signing for "‘It’s OK to Be Angry About Capitalism" this month. If it's your character's cuppa, it would be a shame to miss it.

Last but not least, it's time for the LONDON FASHION WEEK again. If you're not invited, look out for plenty of spin-off events, after-parties and sales popping up in the city while the models strut their stuff.

Below read more : a sneak peak of the next event

Preparing for the PLOT DROP

With this NEW SEASON comes a NEW FEATURE : plot drops won't be as much as a big surprise as before, allowing your characters to prepare for events and make world building easier and smoother for all. Here are a few hints at what comes next :

THE JABBERWOCKS have just selected their new leader, Theodore Byrne, cousin to Malachi Liddell, their former leader gone missing.

These days, tongues are loosened only to advance on how to play their next card. Do they want to secure their backs or strike hard, and remind London, but especially their thieving and murdering friends that they have no intention of being replaced? Business resumes and without the treaty, nothing prevents them from selling their products on the land of the Jolly Rogers and to nibble, little by little, on this territory which once belonged to them.

The JOLLY ROGERS, meanwhile, elected by democratic and universal vote, Javier Vidal at the head of the organization. The latter not being known for half measures or for excesses of diplomacy, will invite the members of his gang to prepare for a sizeable heist on the casino (The Red Rose Casino) of their lifelong enemies. They'll take advantage of a public event to both infiltrate the party and rob the Jabberwocks of what could have been a very good evening.

As for the media, and members of the government : they'll be invited to the event personally, for the Liddell family is a corner stone of this city, and not the sort of donators you want to turn your back on.

Civilians and law enforcers will have seen the posters announcing a night to remember all over the city. Inhabited by the atmosphere of the roaring twenties, the casino will be dressed in gold and black and invite you to dance and spend the night away, so prepare your nicest dress, straighten you bow tie and join us for this decadent event !

Please like this post once you've read it.

[debsrrd26]

HONORABLE MENTIONS

1. Ecco Hommo (Andres Serrano) - 1988

Inmediatamente Piss Christ came to mind, that strong coloring and fixation I had with that piece while in high school just bubbled back into my memory and even the same teenage angst could be felt in my body. I’ve would have never thought to be able and see a piece from Serrano. Freshly out of an Opus Dei school, the image of a Christ submerged in piss is such a weird orange and yellow colored as if the piece rusted within the urine, it was just a taste of how other ways we may view religions and/or idols.

2. Unspecified Promises (Allora & Calzadilla) - 1993

I have never been to ICA, but when the front desk mentioned a sculpture garden I hope of expected more, not only in quantity but for the care of the pieces. I would have loved to view this piece in its all glory, specially a polished stone where you can barely see your reflection on but it felt powerful nonetheless. Loved it, to the stone to the buttery effect of how easily it seems to have cut that truck.

3. We Culture (Denzil Forrester) - 1978-1985

One of my favorites, not only due to sizing but the coloring throws it out of the park. Feels as unconventional colors in painting but really keen up to real like. I can image myself in that party. It’s energetic.

[shivanijangid]

When buying a synthetic opal ring, it’s advisable to get it tested in a proper gemological laboratory and get a certificate of the stone’s authenticity from that lab. The reason for this is reputed gemological laboratories (like GIA, American Gem Society, ICA GemLab, etc.) provide all the details about the stone in their certificate of authenticity, like the stone’s origin, its cut, weight, color, and the treatments that the stone might have undergone.

[whatsonmedia]

5 Music of Monday: Geordie Greep Unleashes "Blues" New Single

Geordie Greep of black midi drops his electrifying new single "Blues," blending rock and dance vibes with classic blues. Check out the vibrant live video from TV Eye in New York and don’t miss his upcoming tour dates to experience the magic live! Geordie Greep (of black midi) shares new single 'Blues’ from forthcoming album 'The New Sound' (out now) + share new live video filmed at TV Eye in New York a couple of weeks ago If you've ever wanted to know what a Blues song with singing and rich bass that are equally as fast sounds like and just so happen to be a Blues fan then you're probably going to like this track. Ironically also called Blues. I openly confess that even though I'm not much of a fan of Blues this rock/dance-esque sounding track gets my vote. Live Video of ‘Blues’ filmed at TV Eye https://youtu.be/gNGlbB4Gbyo New Single ‘Blues’ FORTHCOMING TOUR DATES - Fri-Oct-4 – London, ICA – SOLD OUT - Sat-Oct-5 - London, ICA – SOLD OUT - Sun-Oct-6- London, RT East, Instore – SOLD OUT - Thur-Oct-10 - Cardiff , Llais Festival @ WMC (w/ Squid) - Sat-Oct-19 – Budapest, Isolation Festival - Tue-Oct-22 - Bristol, Fleece - Wed-Oct-23 – Falmouth, The Cornish Bank - Fri-Oct-25 – Cambridge, Storey's Field Centre - Sat-Oct-26 – Liverpool, Arts Club - Sun-Oct-27 – Glasgow, Classic Grand - Mon-Oct-28 – Newcastle, The Cluny - Tue-Oct-29 – Leeds, Brudenell Social Club – SOLD OUT - Wed-Oct-30 – Nottingham, Rescue Rooms - Fri-Nov-01 – Brussels, Les Nuits Botanique Weekender @ Orangerie - Sat-Nov-09 - London, Pitchfork Festival @ EartH - Tue-Dec-03 – Paris, Point Ephemere - Thu-Dec-05 – Berlin, Lido - Fri-Dec-06 – Amsterdam, Bitterzoet – SOLD OUT - Sat-Dec-07 – Nijmegen, Doornroosje - Mon-Dec-09 – Milan, Magnolia - Tue-Dec-10 - Düdingen, Bad Bonn - Thu-Jan-16 - Philadelphia, PA Johnny Brenda's - Fri-Jan-17 - Philadelphia, PA Johnny Brenda's – SOLD OUT - Sat-Jan-18 - Baltimore, MD Ottobar - Sun-Jan-19 - Raleigh, NC Kings - Tue-Jan-21 - Asheville, NC Eulogy - Wed-Jan-22 - Atlanta, GA The Earl - Fri-Jan-24 - Nashville, TN The Blue Room @ Third Man Records - Sat-Jan-25 - St Louis, MO Off Broadway - Mon-Jan-27 - Minneapolis, MN 7th St. Entry - Tue-Jan-28 - Madison, WI High Noon Saloon - Thu-Jan-30 – Chicago, IL The Empty Bottle - Fri-Jan-31 - Chicago, IL The Empty Bottle – SOLD OUT - Sat-Feb-01 - Kalamazoo, MI Bell's Eccentric Cafe - Mon-Feb-03 - Toronto, ON Axis Club Theatre – VENUE UPGRADE - Wed-Feb-05 - Montreal, QC Bar Le Ritz - Thu-Feb-06 - Brattleboro, VT The Stone Church - Fri-Feb-07 - Boston, MA Brighton Music Hall - Sat-Feb-8 – Brooklyn, NY Warsaw - Mon-Apr-28 Phoenix, AZ Crescent Ballroom - Tue-Apr-29 Santa Ana, CA The Constellation Room - Thu-May-01 Los Angeles, CA Regent Theatre  - Fri-May-02 San Diego, CA Soda Bar - Sat-May-03 Pioneertown, CA Pappy and Harriet's  - Mon-May-05 Santa Cruz,C A The Catalyst Atrium - Tue-May-06 San Francisco, CA Great American Music Hall  - Wed-May-07 Sacramento, CA Harlow's - Fri-May-09 Portland, OR Aladdin Theatre  - Sat-May-10 Seattle, WA The Crocodile - Sun-May-11 Vancouver, BC The Pearl - Website - Instagram - X London show 12th Oct: Zkeletonz bring their hyperfunk party to Oslo, Hackney! Zkeletonz bring their own style of music to a one-off gig in Oslo, Hackney in London. If you've never heard of these guys before check out the video for the single, Lonely. I've heard some of their music before and already know what they're about. If you're already a fan, you're going to have a good time. Watch - Lonely  https://youtu.be/WYYpqsfnbHw?si=GPa4XF4yfNWraWgw Join the party and catch Zkeletonz at the following dates in 2024. Tickets and more info here:  https://youtu.be/ZyR4ut8Vjdo?si=eL99sMl7a-_pkCkL - Sat-Feb-8 – Brooklyn, NY Warsaw - Mon-Apr-28 Phoenix, AZ Crescent Ballroom - Tue-Apr-29 Santa Ana, CA The Constellation Room - Thu-May-01 Los Angeles, CA Regent Theatre  - Fri-May-02 San Diego, CA Soda Bar - Sat-May-03 Pioneertown, CA Pappy and Harriet's  - Mon-May-05 Santa Cruz,C A The Catalyst Atrium - Tue-May-06 San Francisco, CA Great American Music Hall  - Wed-May-07 Sacramento, CA Harlow's - Fri-May-09 Portland, OR Aladdin Theatre  - Sat-May-10 Seattle, WA The Crocodile - Sun-May-11 Vancouver, BC The Pearl - WEBSITE - Instagram - X Kate Bush - 50 Words for Snow Originally released back in 2011 legendary music maestro Kate Bush called upon another British legend, Stephen Fry, to put together this somewhat rather interesting track. The majority of the lyrics are 50 actual words for as Stephen goes through the list with Kate providing vocal backing  Watch https://youtu.be/_8Aytn3Fcu0?si=x_5ZvJUzg_pewDh5 All Seeing Eye ft Tony Christie - Walk Like a Panther  Originally released back in 1999 for their Pickeld Eggs & Sherbert album, All Seeing Eye teamed up with singing legend Tony Christie for this, what I can only describe as a dance/rock-esque track that still holds on today. Co-written by Jarvis Cocker (of Pulp), Walk Like a Panther is a song on how things have changed but not for the better and things losing their value  Watch https://youtu.be/ZyR4ut8Vjdo?si=eL99sMl7a-_pkCkL Cal White - Tell Me What You Want  I came across this incredible artist recently, and by that I mean very, as in the same day I wrote this. He's been active on the local scenes since 2017 and has been gaining a following ever since. Tell Me What You Want is a great song about trying to know what that someone in your life wants and holding on to it. If this song alone is anything to go by I'm keeping my eyes and ears on this guy. Great potential ahead  Watch https://youtu.be/SvpCcX5FoK0?si=F5Bs4B244aQlqkn8 For more music updates visit WhatsOn Geordie Greep (of black midi) shares new single 'Blues’ from forthcoming album 'The New Sound' London show 12th Oct: Zkeletonz bring their hyperfunk party to Oslo, Hackney! Kate Bush - 50 Words for Snow All Seeing Eye ft Tony Christie - Walk Like a Panther  Cal White - Tell Me What You Want  Read the full article

[infonewsmania]

Ica Stones Mystery: Ancient Artifacts or Elaborate Hoax?

[diaryofasugarfiend]

Ica stone looking asses.

These AMAZING hand painted dinosaur plates that I wanted but had nowhere to put 😭🦕

[filmpolicereviews]

Episode 153: 'Poor Things' (Women's Month Episode)

The gals are back to talk about Yorgos Lanthimos' absurdist steampunk masterpiece that is 'Poor Things' starring Emma Stone, Mark Ruffalo, Willem Dafoe, Ramy Youssef, Christopher Abbott, Margaret Qualley. Listen to this episode now:

Poor Things has 11 nominations for tonight’s 96th Academy Awards! Ica, Karen and Cess are back for this year’s Women’s Month edition. And girl, they’ve got a lot to say about Emma Stone’s jaw-dropping *wink wink* controversial performance and what could be an Oscar’s sweep for her second tandem with Yorgos Lanthimos.Caution Warning: Spoilers are present in this episode.As of writing, Poor Things…

[whattheabcxyz]

2023-12-14

Singapore

ICA inspector allegedly received sexual favours from 6 men who wanted to remain in Singapore - execute the bastard!!! 😡

Local bus company offering $5K salary + $10K sign-up bonus in bid to draw younger hires & counter stereotypes

Couple loses $45K to scammers while trying to sell 2nd-hand sofa online - seems like they downloaded malware unknowingly

Driver arrested after flouting 3/4 tank rule & assaulting officer in attempt to flee at Woodlands checkpoint - idiot

Mobile grocery to serve Tengah BTO residents as part of interim measures to improve convenience while other amenities are being built

Panel proposes limiting mobility scooters to only those with difficulty walking - sounds like a good idea!

More people bringing in offensive weapons, including slingshots & knuckle dusters

Serial voyeur who took compromising photos/videos of at least 52 women sentenced to 3 years’ jail

In a similar case, a teen boy was caught with multiple voyeuristic videos of girls, some underage

Pets

Unprovoked dog bites boy innocently walking past, but owner refuses to take responsibility - disgusting that people like that still exist; we should put them down, together with the dog!

Transport

Gojek driver suspended for bringing parrot into car

Health

Medical experts in Malaysia call for stringent measures as COVID-19 cases continue to rise

Taiwan hospital removes over 300 kidney stones from woman who is prolific bubble tea drinker

Nature

^ James Webb snaps shot of exploded star

Society

Pregnant Florida woman denied emergency abortion - the idiotic state of American society today!

Gossip

Singapore veteran actor Richard Low muses on his acting career

[apokryphonmuseum]

Peruvian Ica Stones

The Ica Stones are a collection of carved and painted stones found near Ica, Peru, which gained notoriety in the 1960s and 1970s as evidence of an ancient civilization with advanced knowledge of science and technology.

However, the authenticity of the stones has been called into question, with many experts dismissing them as forgeries. The stones depict a range of subjects, from animals and humans to scenes of surgery and technology, but their style and content do not match any known pre-Columbian art. Some of the stones even depict dinosaurs, which were extinct long before the first humans appeared in South America. Despite the evidence against their authenticity, the Ica Stones continue to fascinate and intrigue people around the world.

The creator of the Ica stones was a Peruvian farmer named Basilio Uchuya, who claimed to have found the stones in a cave. Uchuya initially sold the stones to tourists and locals as curiosities, but as their popularity grew, he began to create new ones himself. He used a dental drill and a variety of techniques to carve the stones, including sandpaper and acid. Uchuya's motivation for creating the stones is unclear, but it is believed that he may have seen them as a way to make money and gain fame.

In later interviews, Uchuya admitted that the stones were fakes and that he had carved them himself, but many people still believe in their authenticity. The controversy surrounding the Ica stones continues to this day, with some proponents arguing that they are evidence of an ancient civilization, while skeptics maintain that they are nothing more than clever forgeries.

Analysis of the stones has revealed that they were made using modern tools and techniques, as opposed to the traditional techniques claimed by Uchuya himself. In fact, some of the carvings on the stones depict animals that did not exist in South America until after the Spanish conquest. This has led many to believe that the stones were not created by Uschuya, but by a team of modern forgers using techniques such as sandblasting and chemical etching. Whatever the truth may be, the fact remains that the Ica Stones are a fascinating example of how even the most convincing forgeries can be debunked with scientific analysis.