#long story short it’s about his report card achievement | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

victoriavanish-stories · 11 months ago

Text

Obscurity

C.W. 18+ descriptions of blood, murder, trauma, and childhood trauma, including abuse(sexual) implied, not graphically explained.

A.N. @throwingmetothelions gave me so much insight on this piece. I cannot thank her enough for her help and support. I had additional individuals help out as well, and I am forever grateful for their input. I wrote this story as a follow-up to Ricky Olson's story, Sunshine. If you haven't read the short story, it's not absolutely required-but it might help.

Sunlight bled through the blinds, casting horizontal shadows all over the station. Midafternoon meant the kids were out playing at the parks, coasting down plastic slides, swaying back and forth on swing sets with chains that squeaked every time they propelled themselves forward. If they weren't at the parks, they'd be down at the public pool, eyes red from chlorine and shoulders stained with a thick white coat of sunscreen. Stores began to line the shelves with back-to-school supplies. In just a few weeks, the racks will be empty, ready for the next major holiday or event to take their place. It seemed to him that July always passed by with slow locomotion despite the Independence Day parades, co-workers' scheduling the end of the summer bar-b-ques, and weekend baseball games. It appeared to go on forever.

Five of six unevenly spread desks sat in the station, organized and functional, and one a scattered mess. A wire basket to the left was overflowing with paperwork like a sick recreation of office jenga ready to topple. To the right, blinking red lights on the corded gray phone indicated the multiple calls on hold from reception. Business cards that read Detective Shepard were the only thing on his chaotic desk that showed any achievement. No family photos, nothing that would show he had any personal life outside of the office.

He had been married fourteen years; just last year, she had filed for divorce, citing irreconcilable differences, and when he'd gone in front of the judge, he didn't dispute. He had visitation rights, but with late nights and long hours working the cases on his desk, he always had to reschedule. He'd sent birthday gifts two months ago with superheroes and baseball things for them with not even a thank you in return. Seemingly fair as he knew as much about them as they knew about him, long hours from officer to detective collectively made him miss out on parent-teacher conferences, little league, birthday parties, some of the significant milestones the circle of childhood trauma continued repeating the lack of fatherly love from his childhood to theirs. His life seemed to be a revolving door of people entering and exiting.

After the office was vacant, Detective Shepard reached under his desk for the mint green box, tossing the lid aside and pulling out the file he'd become so familiar with. He'd checked out the records a month ago. The label on the side was faded, but he could still distinguish the words' Cold Cases 1990-2000' with the county, state, and signature of the individual who logged them. To anyone else, it was just another crime of opportunity with no evidence or witnesses. To him, it was a case that shaped his whole life.

His eyes were tired from reading and re-reading the case notes. He was impressed with how thorough the investigator on the case was, each note time stamped with the evidence log at the end. The autopsy report expressed the cause of death was stabbing; death was ruled a homicide, with no suspects. He stared at the faded DMV photo paperclipped to the file, golden curls in her hair, a glint in her eye; he was disappointed that whoever took it didn't let her smile. She always looked better when she smiled.

His mind wandered back to the last time he'd seen her smile. Her head poked around the door of his room one morning before school with his breakfast on a plastic plate. A knockoff box of pop-tarts before school, crusty pastry filled with chocolate, would make any kid excited but the excitement was soon lost when he saw her come dressed in her work uniform.

"Good morning, Sunshine," she'd smile, bringing in his special breakfast. He remembered her sitting on the end of his bed, rubbing his leg through the blankets, trying to soothe the blow of her going to work again. After getting dressed and ready for school, she dropped him off at their neighbor's before giving him a lipstick-stained kiss on his cheek.

After school, with two hands gripping the straps of his backpack, he'd hum their song to himself as he made his way home. Once he was home, he immediately locked the door. Reaching into his bag, he took out the report his teacher handed him that day with the large gold sticker, securing it under one of the fruit magnets, sure she'd see it when she came home. He tossed the backpack on his bed before pulling out the paper and crayons. He knew the routine when he came home from school: stay in the house, don't answer the door for anyone. If there was an emergency, grab the list of phone numbers from the fridge, and run next door to the neighbors. He never had to use the list of phone numbers before. She'd been late getting off work a time or two, and he just had to wait patiently.

Hours went by, and the sky grew dark with no sign of her; he continued to color until all of his white sheets were full of pictures of animals he'd only seen in a zoo tethered to a stick figure boy hand like a pet, stick figure people in a park with the sun mainly drawn in one corner, and attempts at recreating his favorite cartoons. He rubbed his eyes and yawned; she had never been this late. His stomach rumbled with hunger. He'd made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich it was supposed to be for her, but he was too hungry and tired to make another. The boy started with half, but when his stomach continued to growl, he thought to himself, "I can make her another one," as he swallowed the remaining half.

He ran a bath, the tub nearly overflowing with water. Just barely drying himself with the towel, he pulled the cotton pajama pants over his damp legs, the fabric sticking as he tried to force his feet through. He crawled into his bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin and rolling around to try and tuck himself in; it wasn't as good as she would have done. He slept the same, drifting off to the thought that she'd be so proud that he cared for himself all day.

"Son, I need you to get up. Wake up, kid." A heavy-handed man was shaking his shoulder as the haze of morning grogginess faded.

The boy was startled to see the man in his room. He had thin brown hair that receded past his forehead, aviator glasses on even indoors, thick lines around his face, and the smell of cigarettes coming from his breath. A Navy blue blazer covered a blue button-down polo, and the boy remembered the badge and the gun clipped to the belt that held up his black slacks. The boy soon realized his mom wasn't home. He wasn't supposed to let strangers in the house, but she'd always taught him the police were good guys, so he guessed it was okay.

They sat on his bed for a while. The officer let him play with his badge, and he showed him his gun. Afterward, a lady in a suit with files and papers in her briefcase came in to see him; her face was slightly red, with tear-stained cheeks. She'd given him her best smile, asked him his name, and if anyone else was in the home with him. He shook his head no. When she asked about his dad, all he could do was shrug his shoulders.

"Any grandparents or aunts and uncles?" she asked. He shook his head no. His mom had never introduced him to anyone before. The lady's eyes went glossy for a minute as she took a slow, deep breath.

"Sweetie, have you ever known someone who died before?"

She didn't explain it well. The boy asked multiple questions, making her more uncomfortable as she tried to explain the best she could. Eventually, she changed the subject, telling him he would be going to some friends of hers for a little while until they found someplace for him to stay.

"Why can't I stay here?" he asked.

"Because there is no one here to take care of you."

The social worker helped him pack his suitcase. He tried to pack mostly toys instead of clothes, but she softly corrected him. She ensured he had his backpack and suitcase before helping him into the back of her Chevy. His first home was with a lovely lady named Donna, short and plump - all smiles with long mocha hair; she'd made up her spare room for him with snacks and drinks he usually only got on his birthday. He had made himself sick the first night, trying to eat them all. Donna tucked him in at night and asked if he liked bedtime stories. He only shook his head no. Would it be outrageous for him to ask her to sing? He bit back the question; it wouldn't be the same if she did. As she turned the lights out, he rolled over to his side, facing the wall, his voice trembling as he whispered.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…"

The social worker returned after a week to take him somewhere else. A farmhouse twenty minutes outside of town had the name Dell painted on the side of their mailbox. They seemed like nice enough people. Rhonda had bright red hair with lots of volume and curls; he noticed the smell of hairspray was overpowering when she'd bring him in for a hug. Despite the warmth of the action, it seemed forced. Tom was the man of the house with feathered brown hair that ended at his shoulders; he always wore a denim coat and had a mustache on his lip.

The house was always busy, with fifteen or more kids running inside and out. Rhonda and Tom spent most of their days making food for the kids, doing laundry, arranging activities, and other kid-related things that took up all their time. Rhonda seemed happy. She loved being a mom and adored having kids around. Tom loved Rhonda, tolerating the kids because it made her happy. The boy wondered why they didn't have any of their own. Maybe they were practicing before having some of their own. He'd never had a male figure around before, unsure how to approach or talk to Tom when he asked him questions. The boy hid behind Rhonda during the first week, clinging to her jeans belt loop as if she'd run away from him. He didn't want to play with the other kids or talk to Tom at dinner; he just silently stayed within arms reach of Rhonda.

After two years with the Dells' the boy saw a lot of kids coming and going. Some were there for a week, others a month. He wondered when it would be his turn each time one left, but when it wasn't, he began to think his placement was permanent. Once, he shared a bunk with another boy who was thirteen years old. His name was Daniel. He didn't talk much, but he seemed to be a happy and loving kid, always grabbing the boy's shoulders and giving him hugs. Sometimes, they would lay in the bed together, and he'd read stories as the boy fell asleep. One night, Daniel climbed into the boy's bed without a book; he said there were more amusing things to do than reading before bed.

He never spoke of it to anyone. Daniel spent another three weeks in the Dell's house before someone decided to adopt him, three weeks longer than the boy wanted. Afterward, he just receded into himself, thinking it would be like it never happened if he locked it away.

What was locked away didn't stay there for long. The boy found himself lashing out at the other kids in the house; he'd push them, steal their toys, take the heads and limbs of some of the dolls, drop them into the ditch, and watch their discarded pieces float away. Rhonda thought he might have needed an outlet and might have been bored.

Nate was the man next door; he was a typical blue-collar guy who worked on his cars in his front yard a lot. Rhonda introduced them and said he needed something to keep his hands busy. Nate had him do chores around the place, weeds, and lawn mowing; he even taught him to work on the cars. One afternoon, they'd finished working on an old Chevy Camaro Nate had purchased at an auction the month before. He brought him inside, and while Nate cracked open a beer, the boy had been handed a cream soda.

The boy first noticed the heads of animals hanging on the old wood plank walls; the next was the two glass cases of guns perfectly displayed in the living room.

"Ever been hun'in?" Nate had asked. The boy shook his head; he hadn't realized that was a thing. Nate spent the next hour discussing the finer points of hunting, getting up early in the morning, perched in a tree, waiting for his prey. And when you got the perfect shot and brought the prize home, nothing was like it. He wasn't as interested in waiting and being brought home as he was in the execution. Nate described how you'd have to clean, drain, chop, and then preserve your kill. All things the boy kept to memory in great detail.

The work at Nate’s helped keep him from bullying the kids, but it didn’t help him open up to anyone. Years of stone-cold emotion later, he'd pushed away anyone who tried to get close. Still, permanent placement with the Shepards by age fifteen and a stable set of friends is how he met his wife, got into the police academy, bought their first home, and pulled himself out of poverty. He thought about his mother often, wondering if she'd be proud of him or what she would have thought of his wife and kids.

As the old saying goes, your luck will run out one day. Two years after becoming a detective, Shepard had an affair with one of the crime scene investigators from the lab. It didn't end his marriage immediately, but the affair changed them. They played along like nothing happened and ignored each other until the fights were more than the silence. Now divorced with no friends, he was middle-aged, living in a run-down one-bedroom apartment where the fridge door stuck when you opened it, the shower took forever to heat up, and the linoleum in the kitchen was still an ugly floral pattern that went out with the 80s. When he wasn't spending long hours looking through files and avoiding his paperwork, he was in that shitty apartment, missing out on time with his family.

When his mother's birthday approached, he used the power of his badge to dig up information about her. He'd never known what happened; foster families told him she'd died in a car accident on the way home from work, and for years, he believed it. Computer filing systems were new, but their information storage was still limited. When he searched her last name, he'd hoped to find an accident report and a coroner's release. When the only result had been filed under homicide and logged in the cold cases department, he thought it might have been a clerical error. All of this led to the box under his desk, the file he continued to read, studying the reports like he was a student in college, and the information was on his final. Fading polaroids of a crime scene clipped to the file, no matter how old the images, it was hard to miss the crimson streak painting the walls.

Finding her burial site with no obituary or funeral announcement was hard. She had become a number on a file in the system of lost souls. But he wasn't a detective for nothing. Starting with the coroner who'd been on the case, he researched the path her remains made from autopsy to mortuary. The mortuary owned a cemetery that, ironically, was only four miles from the diner where she worked. It was a long shot, but worth the trip.

Parked across the street in his brazen orange Pontiac, he felt like he was on an old-school stakeout, eyes fixed on the house like it would run away if he glanced elsewhere. A cement walkway, gravel driveway, a new chain link fence, and flower beds by the front door decorated with purple Iris and blue hydrangeas made the old place look fresh and new. Freshly planted sod covered the yard; it had been barren and brown when he'd lived there. The front door had been wood with chipped paint and weak hinges; the storm door creaked when you opened it- the springs reacting so quickly that the door would slam shut before you could turn around to catch it. Now, the annoyingly fresh coral red screamed at him from the sidewalk, the creaking storm door replaced by tempered glass. Even the house he used to live in healed and moved on without him.

His head flopped against the headrest, blowing out the air from his lungs. He'd picked up a local county map at the gas station, tossing it aside in his passenger seat, three large red circles marking his critical daily destinations. He marked an X through one before starting the car and driving away. The county was small, with few side streets and stop lights. He passed a sandy brick building on a large corner lot, the 'T' in elementary missing; nice to see some things hadn't changed.

He recognized Donna's house a few more streets away, a bright red for sale sign on the front lawn. Safe to say she didn't live there anymore; was she still alive? As he turned off the main road to the cemetery, he recognized the landmarks, and if he followed them another three miles south, he'd pass the Dell's old place.

He had always hated cemeteries. Corpses rotting under the ground, slabs of stone marking their place - simultaneously overcrowded and empty, they were an ominous place even during the day. He drove the narrow streets, reading the plot signs and trying to find the correct year: 1998, 2000, 2002, 2006. It felt awkward stepping in the grass above those seemingly resting in peace. They may not have been alive, but he had that uncomfortable feeling like when he was a kid and thought his stuffed animals had feelings of their own; maybe the dead didn't appreciate being walked on. He mumbled sorry's under his breath as he tried to soften his steps. He nearly passed her.

A 12x8 memorial plaque resting on a granite slab barely a foot from her neighbor's bronze letters spelling out 'In memorial of' her name and the dates of her birth and death. He hadn't realized how young his mother had been when she died. Twenty-eight seemed old to a young boy; now, he could only think she barely had the chance to live.

What made killers the type of people they are? What possessed them to kill? Was it power? Was it control? Was it a primal urge within us that we lost due to no longer having to hunt for our food like animals? An urge that was only satisfied by killing our kind. As he rested his knees on the grass, he thought he should feel something: sadness, pain, anger. Had he been so damaged that he could not express himself in a way that mattered? He rationalized that it was his police training, or it might have been Tom's voice saying to him, "Buck up. Boys don't cry."

"Booth or counter?" a young grungy girl with a nose ring, black eye shadow, crimson lips, and ash brown hair pulled into two messy space buns caught him as he walked in the door. He'd only seen the diner once with his mother; back then, the seats had been a curry yellow, aggregate tiles and dingy paint from years of customers smoking indoors. They'd reimagined the diner into a fifties style with a black and white square grid floor, scarlet red and dodger blue booths, and cardboard cutouts of Elvis and Marilyn Monroe standing in the corners. Fake vinyl records with Coca-Cola labeled on them hung on the walls with black and white photos of old cars and even older people next to them. Mumbling "booth," the girl rolled her eyes, grabbed a two-sided menu, and led him to a booth a few feet from the door. The red leather was dry, and he could feel the springs digging into him as he sat down.

Walking up to his table with a jump in her stride she was all smiles, brown doe eyes under thick black lashes, olive-colored skin with strawberry blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. She tilted her head just slightly as she set the mug down in front of him holding up the coffee pot before pouring the steaming liquid into the ceramic cup.

"What can I getcha?" he glanced at the name tag pinned above her left breast- gold plated with black letters spelling out her name. She wore a periwinkle dress that reached her knees, a white apron tied around her waist, and short white sleeves that matched the white collar at her neck. A pair of cream-colored sneakers on her feet stained with grease and condiments was better than a short, uncomfortable set of heels. Maybe this girl would go home at night with less pain in her feet.

He stared blankly at her shoes somewhere in his scattered brain, a memory of his mother coming into the house after a long day, kicking off her heels, leaning against the fridge to rub her toes and the balls of her feet, wincing when she'd hit that tender spot. She wouldn't sit down after that, immediately working in the kitchen to get dinner started regardless of how hard her day had been. He hoped this poor girl didn’t suffer the same fate at her workday's end.

His eyes wandered from her shoes to the free skin on her calves, following her lean legs up under her dress. He knew it was in poor taste, but with all his emotions, he needed to have a more physical outlet. She cleared her throat, catching his attention.

"Do you need a few more minutes?" her voice was low but sweet. Shepard flipped the menu over a few times; he hadn't even looked at it.

"Biscuits and gravy will do." As she was jotting his order down on a small notepad, a man's gruff and muffled voice was climbing in volume from across the room. Detective Shepard saw how her eyes rolled behind her skull as she continued to write.

She ripped the paper from the notepad, smiled at him, and winked before turning toward the kitchen. The skirt of her uniform flowed as she spun around. He caught just a glance of her thighs that the material would have otherwise hidden. He thought about asking her on a date. Still thinking about that physical outlet, it occurred to him it would be more polite to feed her and discuss a short conversation before assuming she'd fuck him.

She filled up his mug again, he smiled at her, not saying a word, watching her walk away again. After she’d left he opened the sealed creamer cups adding two to the dark liquid taking a sip before deciding it needed a little sugar. When she disappeared behind the steel cafe doors, his hypervigilant eyes started to take in the room around him.

A couple in their mid-fifties were sitting at the counter leaning into one another as they spoke; the husband talked with his hands a lot, and his wife had to move his cup of tea out of the way several times to avoid him knocking it over. At the end of the diner, in a booth, was a man whose age no one could guess. He wore a faded baseball cap, his grey beard covered in grease from the mountain of bacon and sausage he was shoving into his mouth. Red and blue whitetail flannel seemed warm for the late summer, and the undone buttons showed the dingy white shirt he wore underneath. Pearly white and leveled teeth chomped down noisily on his food. The teeth would slip around in his mouth, using his tongue to click them back in place.

She ambled from behind the counter, a plate in each hand. She placed the warm plates in front of him and took extra care to lean in close.

"Anything else, sweetie?" Her hands rubbed the apron on her dress, straightening the semi-crinkled fabric.

"No," He half-heartedly offered. Taking the fork in hand, he pushed around his food a bit, watching the steam rise from the gravy each time he pushed it around.

"You sure?" Her palm flattened against the table, leaning on it while her other hand rested on her hip. He made a flat joke about her having dinner with him that night, taking a sip of the coffee she'd brought, thinking it would help him swallow the lump down easier, perplexed when she accepted his offer, he choked on the bittersweet liquid. Again, she twirled away from him with a wink. He felt hesitant about having dinner with her; she couldn't have been more than twenty-four, at least ten years his junior.

When he'd finished his food, she returned with his check, a folded piece of her notepad hidden underneath. Leaving enough cash to cover his bill and a gracious tip, he took the lined piece of paper and folded it into his pocket as he left.

The detective called her around four in the afternoon; they decided to meet at some Italian restaurant downtown. He was nervous, pacing back and forth in the parking lot, fighting with himself about jumping back in his car and calling it off. Checking his watch, he waited anxiously, rubbing his sweaty palms together. He hadn't been on a date since the divorce, not a proper one; he’d continued to sleep with women just for the sake of having physical connections.

She’d arrived on time. He sat in that dimly lit restaurant, listening to her talk about her temporary job and living in that town her whole life. Something about having been raised by a single mom; dad had ducked out when she was a baby. One day, she would get out of there and be a singer. She was saving money to take a long trip to Nashville. He couldn't bring himself to tell her about his ex-wife and kids, just that he was a detective. Her enthusiastic questions about how many killers he had caught were any of them serial killers and whether the cases had been gruesome. She was less than thrilled that the cases weren't cinematic and thrilling.

He offered her a ride back home, and when she was in his passenger seat, she started asking him where he was staying. He described the cheap hotel he'd picked for the weekend; she quipped back quickly, "I haven't seen that one yet."

How many had she fucking seen?

It didn't matter then; he changed direction, heading for his hotel instead of her place. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her give a coy smile, her thighs squeezing together.

How innocent she looked was just in how she looked. She wasn't so innocent on her knees, her mascara smeared from her tears, with his dick down her throat. It would have been easier to have her bent over; face shoved into the pillows so he wouldn't have to look at her. She insisted on being on top, and who was he to stop her? He was getting what he wanted one way or the other.

He flopped onto his back, the bed squeaking beneath them as they awkwardly shuffled around. Opening her legs over him, she straddles his lap, roughly taking him in her hand. She'd grazed him with one of her nails; it was a short-lived pain forgotten when his dick sank into warm wet flesh. She'd slapped his shoulders and grabbed the headboard, her mouth falling open with a deep sigh; if she was faking, she was damn good at it. She sat on him for a while, feeling her body mold to him before she was ready to move.

She moved up and down forward and back, slowly feeling the way he filled her up with each drop onto him. His hands rubbed her thighs, impatient to have her move faster. She rolled on him harder and quicker, arching up underneath her weight as he swallowed down the moans. After a while he bends his knees bucking his hips making her squeal and giggle. Either she is enjoying it or going for an academy award in acting.

Sitting up on his elbow he takes a calloused hand and cups the side of her face. Fingers finding their way down, wrapping around her delicate neck, she giggled into his lips at how playfully kinky he was being. But for him, his mind was somewhere else. He could easily crush her windpipe under his grip; there was a single bone in her throat that could easily break with just enough force. He squeezed enough pressure to feel her rise up before settling back down. He waited, letting her grow used to the feeling before squeezing tighter. Her mouth fell open, and her eyes rolled back; his hand uncontrollably squeezed harder, and there was a little fear in her eyes as her hands reached up to grab his wrists. He reluctantly loosened his grip, letting the air fill her lungs; she paused momentarily, looking into his eyes before smiling again, resuming her movements.

When they'd both caught their breath and settled in bed, he lay awake staring at the ceiling, listening to her soft breathing next to him. He closed his eyes and feigned sleep when she stirred, groaning and stretching as she woke. He heard the quiet shuffling as she gathered her things, dressed, and opened his hotel door. He opened his eyes just slightly to see the light from the hallway and her shadow stepping out of the door, closing it behind her.

Sitting in a scarlet leather booth again, he returned later than the day before. The waitress he'd spent the night with last night was giggling with one of her coworkers behind the counter; when he'd catch them smiling and looking in his direction, he'd force a smile and wave. When the last customer left, she sauntered to his table, leaning in close as she spoke.

"You gonna hang around? I'm off in an hour."

"If you're here, I'm here." she smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek before spinning around and disappearing behind the double kitchen doors. Detective Shepard watched as her coworkers left the diner individually, looking out the window to ensure their cars had disappeared far down the road. He got up from the table quietly, making his way to the kitchen doors; pushing them open with his elbow, he stepped in slowly, seeing her in the back corner of the kitchen breaking down boxes.

Startled, she jumped a little when she saw him but smiled as she returned to her task. He had nothing; how would he have done it if he had nothing with him? Blue eyes scanned the kitchen, searching around the stoves and the sinks; nothing was ready and available, having been cleaned and put away for a new day tomorrow. While he was looking around, he realized she could have easily run past him to the exit. What was it he was doing wrong?

At the ticket window was a tray of folded silverware tucked away in cheap white napkins. With the set of silverware, there were steak knives available. He crossed over to them, admiring how tightly she'd wrapped them. Breaking the seal of the red wrapping, he took out the steak knife, letting the rest of the silverware fall to the floor.

"Hey. That's not fair." She may have been attempting to scold him, but the flirtatious tone drowned out the seriousness of her words.

He studied the knife; the serrated edge would not leave as clean a cut as what he'd read about in the autopsy report. Regardless, it would do the job. He felt the weight of the wooden hilt in his hands, letting the blade catch the light, watermarks from a poor washing job on the blade.

"Could you not?" her tone changed, stern but soft. Her sneakers squeaked across the tiles; the mopped floor had not yet dried, making each step like nails on a chalkboard. He played the action in his head only; he'd have backed her against the wall, taken her throat in his hands, and then thrust the knife into her with all the strength he had. The knife in his hand wasn't long enough to cut through her body like his mother had been; he'd barely make it to an organ with how short the blade was. Would she still bleed out? Could you bleed out with a small knife like that?

It was only an intrusive thought, a recreation of a crime scene he'd read about repeatedly. It could have remained an intrusive thought; he might have been able to walk away, play it as a joke, and have dinner with her again before forgetting her altogether. But the questions became an impulse, desperate to be answered.

Her muscles resisted the blade as he plunged it into her abdomen, the disturbing crunch and ripping sound the only thing he could hear. A flash of regret made his hand go weak; she whimpered when the trembling fingers jerked the blade a bit. Warm blood slowly poured onto his hand; realizing there was no going back, he gave a soft thrust and twisted, jolting her and making her slump over the knife. She coughed, the sound giving way to a gurgle as the saliva and blood filled her throat.

Her body started to go limp, knees giving to her weight, pulling the knife out when her weight was too much to hold. Blood spattered to the floor, pooling around his feet, the thick smell of copper in the air. He stepped back, trying to keep his shoe impression out of the blood on the ground. She didn't fall gracefully, more like a doll someone discarded, spread out over the floor, brown eyes, unfocused, color draining from her cheeks as the blood soaked her dress. He expected her to bleed more, to have it all over the place. Crime scenes he'd walked into were messy. If he watched her long enough, maybe the blood would start pooling underneath her.

The whole thing had been over in seconds; he marveled at how quick, easy, and oddly satisfying it all had been. A hand towel was on the shelf to his left; he took it and wrapped the blade in the scratchy microfiber cloth. Pocketing the red seal and napkin the silverware had been folded in, he left the silver scattered on the floor where they’d fallen.

Stepping backward out of the double kitchen doors, he kept the towel in his hands, the blood starting to slip through the fibers and onto his fingers. Detective Shepard climbed into his car, dropping the towel in his passenger seat and patting his pockets for his keys. He turned the key in the ignition, clicked his seat belt, and backed out of the parking lot like any other Saturday.

With the radio off and the window down, he let the wind's throb fill his ears. He'd passed by some locals, giving them a polite wave as he drove by. They knew nothing; he'd be long gone before anyone figured it out. Clammy palms gripped the synthetic leather of his steering wheel; he squirmed in his seat as he tried to fight off the sudden stab in his chest and slow his breathing. A thrill returned to him, like when he was a teenager and snuck a girl into his room for the first time. His dad came home early, and she had to hide under his bed. He'd felt anxious, the adrenaline coursing through him like fire, or had it been the teenage hormones? Only one thing was on his mind when his dad left, and he'd snuck her back out. It was the same thought he had running through his mind now.

1 note · View note

simslegacy5083 · 1 year ago

Text

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 8 Ep. 28: An Exotic Love Day

The Story of a Family Told in Web Comic Format

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

While the young ones had to fit their romance in after work hours, their elders were free to celebrate Love Day bright and early, on their own terms.

Last year Steven had promised himself that he would go all out and do something exotic next time his favorite holiday rolled around. To that end he’d rented a villa in Tartosa, the most romantic city in SimNation, and invited the rest of team farm to join him and his bride in celebrating together.

Spencer’s early morning guided meditation got things off to a good start, putting them all in the perfect frame of mind to enjoy a busy day of activities.

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

Hopping on their rental bikes, their first outing was a nectar tasting being hosted by a local bar.

The sweet juice did not disappoint, though Ed couldn’t resist slipping the young barkeep a business card and inviting them to give him a call if they ever wanted to expand their menu with some fantastic, emotionally charged, fizzy drinks in the future.

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

Over lunch at a local food stall a short bike ride away talk turned, as it often did, to the younger generation.

Steven and Ed reported that Tori and Miguel were settling in nicely at the farm, even if they still had a lot to learn. Spencer gushed about Peachy and August’s kindness to Paul, though he was a bit concerned that his sensitive youngest might suffer his first heartbreak while he was away.

Steven had the opposite concern for his own son. He’d seen the way Jack looked at Peachy during the BBQ, but the conversation with his boy at that same event had him worried that Peachy’s fears would cause him to miss out on the fortune of love that favored the bold.

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

After their meal the group paired off and split up, wandering freely around the island, enjoying the sights and the romantic atmosphere.

After a long languid day of sweet nothing’s with their beloved, they all came back together late in the afternoon for a dip in the crystal-clear ocean water. The sparkling evening sunlight brought out the youth in the whole crowd, who splashed about joyously.

As the sun dipped towards the horizon, the seniors headed back to their rental for the day’s final celebration.

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

Due to her pregnancies Hope was now the youngest among them by quite a few days, but even she had finally reached her silver birthday.

Her old friends welcomed the last member of their original team farm to “The Gray Side” with much fanfare.

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

Over more nectar and cake the group decided, as the last of their number reached the last stage of life, that they wished to stay together and watch over their children for a bit longer. They had started their families late, and the kids adult adventures were just beginning.

A lifetime of achievements gave them easy access to potions of youth, so that each of them who had preceded Hope to this last milestone could drink up and guide the young sims near and dear to their hearts through the next steps in their life journey.

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

Want To See More? View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 challenge #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 not so berry #sims 4 nsb

0 notes

mariacallous · 2 years ago

Text

This past Monday, the National Assessment of Educational Progress, a program that bills itself as “the Nation’s Report Card,” released its first set of findings since the start of the pandemic. The main N.A.E.P. assessment, which is administered to fourth, eighth, and twelfth graders every two years and measures their proficiency in math and reading, showed the biggest drop in scores in the thirty-year history of the test. The response in the press, predictably, was filled with a great deal of catastrophizing. “New NAEP Test Scores Are a Disaster. Blame Teachers Unions,” a Washington Examiner headline read, a sentiment echoed by the editorial board of the Wall Street Journal, which wrote that the results proved that “pandemic lockdowns were a policy blunder for the ages, and the economic, social and health consequences are still playing out.”

The news coincided with another ongoing saga in American education: this coming Monday, the Supreme Court will hear arguments on the future of affirmative action. A decision on two cases—one against Harvard and another against the University of North Carolina, both brought by the conservative legal advocacy organization Students for Fair Admissions—is expected sometime this term.

The timing of these two events is accidental, but both speak to burgeoning anxieties about young people that cut across racial and class lines. These days, nobody—not even the rich—seems all that sure that their children will live better, or even slightly less privileged, lives than they did. That fear has only been made worse by the pandemic, and the constant stream of stories about falling ACT and SAT scores, learning loss, and a generation of children who, absent some large-scale intervention, may fall well short of expectations.

Preoccupations like these have fuelled a revanchist current in education, which has taken many forms. Freak-outs over critical race theory and book bans—which, at their core, were attempts to remove perceived threats to the old forms of meritocracy—will seem tame in comparison to the coming school wars, as parents worry about the potential closure of traditional pathways toward a professional life. Over the next decade, the scarcity mind-set that says that the only path toward class mobility runs through exclusive academic institutions will intensify, and, in turn, bring education into a new political prominence.

Just hours after the N.A.E.P. released its results, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis took a victory lap. A press release from DeSantis’s office boasted that his policy of keeping schools open through the pandemic represented the state’s “commitment to closing achievement gaps.” “We insisted on keeping schools open and guaranteed in-person learning in 2020 because we knew there would be widespread harm to our students if students were locked out,” DeSantis said. “Today’s results once again prove we made the right decision.” He went on to point out that Florida’s fourth graders ranked third in the country in reading and fourth in math, and saved a little dig for the “lockdown” blue states California and New York, which “aren’t even in the top 30.”

I’ve written about education for the past few years, and one thing I’ve found consistently is that it’s incredibly difficult to create a convincing argument out of the mountains of data that schools generate every year. That doesn’t mean that people don’t try, and much of the silliness that surrounds education discourse and policy comes out of the bad math that people do in their supposed effort to teach kids how to do better math. Politics too often becomes a frenzy over who can pick the right numbers out of a data set to justify what are ultimately political decisions. It’s clear that here DeSantis is doing some cherry-picking: fourth graders in Florida have been on a long-term upward trend since 2005, and, although that didn’t slow down during the pandemic, it’s a fool’s errand to try to pinpoint the exact effects of keeping schools open. Given that the concern is about learning loss over time, you can’t assess one state’s performance merely in comparison with other states; what really matters is how one state did relative to its recent past.

Some of the coverage of the N.A.E.P. results has focussed on deepening inequalities between racial groups. But a closer look at the numbers shows that, across racial lines, students’ scores mostly fell in lockstep. The average math test scores for Black and Hispanic eighth graders fell seven points each (from a 260 average score to 253 and 268 to 261, respectively). Asian students’ scores also fell seven points, from 313 to 306. These declines are about the same as the fall that white students took, from 292 to 285. Reading scores for eighth graders seem to have been even less affected by the pandemic, and some racial achievement gaps in that category actually got smaller. The results across different student competencies were similarly mixed. While high-performing fourth graders suffered less learning loss than low-performing kids in math and reading, the results for eighth graders showed a much more uniform decline across all competencies.

What we seem to have, then, is as close to an equal-opportunity problem as one can find in this country. Everyone’s scores are down, and the relatively small differences between racial groups on one test could very well be attributed to a whole range of inputs, including the fallibility of standardized testing.

For better or worse, the universality of this decline is what will move the needle politically. It’s one thing for parents who have every reason to be confident in their child’s advantages to worry that poor minority kids in their cities aren’t measuring up to standards; it’s quite another for those same parents to suddenly get told that their own kids are behind, too.

But, even if declining scores are worrisome, we don’t have to treat the N.A.E.P. results as a catastrophe, or something that requires us to reify existing hierarchies. It makes sense that, if students miss school for an extended period and are taken out of the classroom setting during a multiyear plague, they likely won’t do all that well on a standardized test, especially if they haven’t taken one in more than two years. Over the past two years, studies conducted in the United States and Europe showed that students were falling behind in most subjects. Given that reading scores experienced only a small decline and math scores didn’t crater in a disastrous way, the somewhat boring but ultimately correct conclusion might just be “Hey, it could’ve been worse.”

That, of course, will not stem parental anxiety, nor will it curb the opportunism of political actors who gain from making parents think that their children are in crisis. Every set of scores that gets printed will kick up the outrage machine, which will spit out invectives at teachers’ unions, progressive politicians, or whoever else can absorb the blame. The rub, of course, is that the scramble for resources would likely continue even if the test results were better. The panicked parents are panicking again because it’s in their best interest to do so.

The pandemic and its interruptions to schooling presented an opportunity to reaffirm our commitment to public education as a common good. But, instead, we’re likely looking at an increasingly polarized school system, where remediations for struggling students might take up even more classroom time, and, in turn, accelerate the already growing demand for tracked and gifted-and-talented programs. Competition for spots at exclusive schools will only intensify, and no amount of data literacy will change the screaming headlines about the disaster in schools. The parents who have the time, resources, networks, and influence to dictate how things go in the aftermath will almost certainly win out, because they usually do.

As the parent of an elementary-school child, I understand the impulse to worry. I thought school closures in my progressive West Coast city went on too long. I’ve picked up brochures from tutoring centers, researched Russian math schools, purchased more than a few supplementary-learning books, and spent countless hours with my child to insure that her education will not be a casualty of the past two years. Like everyone else, I invoke the mantra “I’m just trying to do what’s best for my kid.” But it’s clear to me that the blame game that politicians and pundits are playing will do nothing to ameliorate learning loss; nor will anyone be helped by further polarization of children’s successes and failures. My kid might be a winner in an intensified academic race, or someone else’s might be, but the greater chance that both will struggle is harmful to us all. ♦

3 notes · View notes

frogtanii · 4 years ago

Text

hq boys as the crimes they’d commit

warnings: CRIMES, crackfic, probably many typos idk i’m so tired lmaooo, cursing, drinking ??? idfk 😩💦

an: and i did this for what?? inspired by hq hcs royalty @sugardaddykenma @hina-wit-da-glock (AJSKSJ SORRY FOR TAGGING Y’ALL IF YOU SEE THIS, IT IS DEF NOT UP TO PAR W Y’ALLS WORKS ILY)

karasuno

sawamura daichi- insurance fraud!! somehow this is such a dad crime to commit?? dadchi didn’t try (dumb excuse, how do you accidentally commit insurance fraud smh) to commit insurance fraud but at one point in his late-thirties, he was very very broke and was already working as much as possible so, he decided to fake an ankle injury, as you do, and filed a bunch of claims which made him bank. daichi kept doing it until he was able to quit one of his jobs and buy himself a really nice suit and a rolex (uhhh 🥵). he somehow never got caught tho and to this day, none of his friends know how he was able to afford a tesla on a cop’s salary (sorry daichi but acab 😔✨)

sugawara kōshi- child abandonment!! ok you can try and fight me on this but i feel in my bones that suga absolutely despises children. he can tolerate ages 10+ but anything younger than that, he will punt them into the next dimension. the thing is, people just assume he likes kids because of how good he is with his team which is why his aunt begged him to babysit his nephew taro. taro was being an absolute brat when suga took him out for the day and he was 👉👈 this close to snapping. he put taro down for like 3 seconds to pay for their ice cream and when he turned back, the demon spawn was gone. he panicked, running around the park looking for taro when it turns out, taro was just bent down behind the bench. some random karen called the police and suga has never craved murder more.

nishinoya yuu- arson!! you CANNOT tell me nishinoya doesn’t have a ~murder~ playlist that he listens to to get himself hype (me too noya, me too). one night, he got a lil too hype listening to start a riot by duckwrth and watching demolition videos on youtube. he snuck out of his house to an empty shed like 30 minutes away and maybe... lit it on fire while genocide by lil darkie played on a speaker nearby. what he did NOT anticipate was the absolute size of the fire so he freaked out and called the firefighters who promptly called the police. he didn’t want to get grounded so he called daichi to bail him out. daichi still told noya’s parents 😔.

tanaka ryūnosuke- vandalism!! tanaka had been on alt tiktok and saw a group of cool friends spray painting an abandoned building. he thought “that’s cool, lemme do that!” but then he realized he had no friends (AHDGS JK I LOVE TANAKA). he asked nishinoya who was grounded from the arson incident and he knew he definitely couldn’t ask daichi, suga, asahi, or enoshita so he decided to go it alone. that proved to be a MASSIVE mistake. he got the supplies, arrived to the building of his choice (thanks saeko :3), and decided to spray paint a huge p3ni5 in bright red paint. he finished “successfully” and zoomed back home. what he didn’t realize with his two-and-a-half braincells is that he signed his glorious piece with his full name. the cops were at his house the next morning...🧍

hinata shoyō- forgery!! hinata did NOT think that forgery was even a crime. how was he supposed to know that he wasn’t allowed to copy his mom’s signature on a permission form! all he wanted was to go to an overnight training camp 😿

kageyama tobio- attempted murder!! kageyama swears it sounds worse than was and he is absolutely incorrect. what happened was so much worse. he and hinata were having a competition to see who could hold their breath the longest underwater (you can’t tell me they haven’t done some dumbass shit like this) and kageyma lost almost instantly (he has the tiny lungs of an asthmatic). he didn’t want hinata to notice so he held hinata’s head under the water for like 10 seconds. suga walked in though, saw hinata thrashing around in the water and immediately called the police. kageyama never forgave him.

tsukishima kei- cyberbullying!! first of all, i had no idea you could get arrested for cyber bullying!? that being said, neither did tsukishima who spent 80% of his time making fun of people online (and on his real account!! bold). eventually one of the people he bullied (hinata) reported him on instagram and his very lame account was deleted (pls don’t bully people online 😤).

yamaguchi tadashi- shoplifting!! andjksh this is so funny because this scenario has happened to me and i can just SEE this happening to poor tadashi. yamaguchi gets super late night cravings (and usually tsukki will walk with him at like 3 am 🥺 nEWAYS) so he’ll sneak out and walk to the mini-mart near his house. one night, he was so tired but also super hungry so he went onto his nightly routine and basically sleepwalked into the store. he picked out his favorite chips and candy bar (which are sour cream&onion lays and milky ways in case you were wondering 😌✨) and just... walked out the store without paying. the store clerk was mysteriously missing so yamaguchi made it all the way home, ate half the bag of chips and passed out without realizing what he’d done. once he did, he cried for 2 hours straight.

nekoma

kuroo tetsurō- telemarketing fraud!! kuroo originally did telemarketing fraud as a joke?? like he was trying to prank call someone pretending that they had lost their information and they actually gave it to him??? he was mildly concerned but even more excited. he did it over and over again but he never used the info for anything. to this day, kuroo literally has a notebook full of credit card numbers and bank account passwords but he refuses to use it because he believes it’s ✨wrong✨(but it isn’t wrong to take all that information in the first place under false pretenses, not realizing that once people find out, they are forced to close credit cards and accounts but go off self righteous king). once he brought the book up to kenma and he offered to sell it on the dark web. now kuroo feels less bad about what he’s done! :D

kozume kenma- computer crime!! pfttt this one seems kinda obvious but what do you expect from kenma :). he spends so much time on the internet, he’s definitely picked up some less than legal skills that still help him now 👀. kenma did little mini crimes like getting into other people’s wifi but his crowning achievement was when he hacked into the minneapolis pd website and had it so when you opened the page, a black lives matter screen came up. he never told anyone that it was him who did it but he thinks it’s the best he’s ever done.

yaku morisuke- racketeering!! yaku, the feral king, ran an underground gambling ring in the basement of nekoma (do they have basements?? who knows! i don’t!) during his third year. the only reason it didn’t get shut down was because coach nekomata took a portion of yaku’s profits whenever he won (which was literally all the time). everyone on the team has lost money to him which is why they never play with him anymore. they won’t even let yaku play monopoly 😔.

haiba lev- indecent exposure!! poor lev’s head is so empty, he tends to fall for whatever pranks his senpai’s do to him. this time kuroo had somehow convinced him that in order to grow his schlong, he had to run outside naked for 10 minutes because the moonlight had special growing properties. lev was a lil scared ngl because he was already superrr tall and didn’t need to grow his height (or his dick ((boy is hung)) but poor lev is insecure) but he did it anyway. long story short, an old woman saw him parading around the neighborhood naked and called el policia. 0/10 dick did NOT grow and had to spend a night in jail naked 😿

aoba johsai

oikawa tōru- prostitution!! KAKKAKA iwazumi made fun of oikawa for being so shitty and said that he couldn’t pick up anyone if he tried. flattykawa took this as a personal challenge and went out onto the street, asking people if they’d have sex with him. with the way he was asking (and the way he was dressed), people assumed he was a paid w h o r e and someone eventually reported him. iwazumi had to pick oikawa up from the station- he never let him live this one down.

iwaizumi hajime- battery!! it wasn’t technically battery but oikawa is a lil bitch and overreacts (at least in his words -_-). the amount of times iwa-chan has beat the absolute shit out of oikawa is uNREAL. he just can’t handle the stupidity sometimes so he just smacks the crap outta him. not for real for real but the way oikawa reacts, you’d think a murder was occurring. one time, shittykawa screeched so loud, they got a noise complaint -_- hajime hates it in these streets.

matsukawa issei & hanamaki takahiro- conspiracy!! issei and hiro have a secret blog where they discuss conspiracy theories and such but one day, hiro found an article that explained how jfk’s death was an inside job. he sent it to issei who began to theorize how HE’D do it. that devolved into a massive thread on their blog of how’d they murder a president which blew up and caught the attention of the cia who sent the a letter telling them to quietly delete the blog. they did because they were terrified but they kept the letter and now it’s framed in issei’s apartment.

kyōtani kentarō- assault!! baby is an angry little boy but for all the right reasons. he was at a bar (when he’s all grown up, duh) and he spotted an absolute drunk creep hitting on a girl who clearlyyyy did not reciprocate his feelings. kyōtani, being the respectful king that he is, went over to the guy, pulled him by the jacket and beat. the. shit. out of him. while the bartender was happy with the fact that the creep was out, he was not impressed with the damage to his bar. he just sent kyōtani out who casually adjusted his leather jacket and rings, and hopped on his motorcycle to ride away into the night. i am the FATTEST simp for this man ONG 🥴

shiratorizawa

ushijima wakatoshi- stalking!! poor ushijima has no idea how intimidating he can be. he was on a train late at night after practice and the woman sitting across from him left her purse sitting on the seat. being the gentleman that he is, he took the purse and followed her to return it. the only problem is that the closer he got, the faster she ran and when he tried to speak (yknow with his scary, deep, baritone voice), the woman screeched and called the cops on him because he was a “strange, big man who was following her home.” when the police showed up, ushijima was painfully confused and just held up this tiny ass purse in his massive hands. the cops laughed.

tendō satori- ???!! no one knows what crimes (or how many 😳) tendō has committed but each of his teammates have different ideas- ushijima: “i don’t believe tendou is capable of committing any sort of felony. well, maybe murder”; semi: “of COURSE he’s capable of crimes??! do you know how many times i’ve seen him come into the dorm with a suspicious stain of red on his sweater?? *shudders* if i end up dead, tendō did it...” in actuality, the only crime tendō has committed is ~drugs~ but he’s not bouta tell his friends that.

goshiki tsutomu- would be a VICTIM!! my baby tsutomu would NEVER commit a crime!!! i love this man with my everything and the only crime he’s committed is being too damn cute 😤🥺

463 notes · View notes

notebooknebula · 3 years ago

Video

youtube

The Reality of Real Estate Investing with Dave Seymour & Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority

https://www.jayconner.com/the-reality-of-real-estate-investing-with-dave-seymour-jay-conner-the-private-money-authority/

Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority has a very special guest, Dave Seymour.

They discuss the reality of real estate investing. The nit and grit of the business. The struggles and lessons that need to be learned in order to achieve success in the real estate business.

Plus, Jay and Dave also talk about the best way how to grow capital!

All these and more in Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner.

After 16 years as a firefighter and paramedic, Dave Seymour launched his career, rapidly becoming one of the Nation’s top real estate investors. Within his first few years, Dave had transacted millions of dollars of real estate and had become one of the Nation’s leading experts in both residential and commercial transactions.

His unabridged passion for business and real estate put him on the radar of the A&E Television network as well as multiple television organizations like CBS, ABC, CNBC, Fox News, and CNN. New York Times reported that Dave Seymour’s series “Flipping Boston” posted the highest ratings ever for the A &E Network at the time of airing.

Dave has been sought after as a “tell like it is” mentor and motivator in the real estate world with a track record of unmatched success everywhere he reaches. Dave is well-known for doing business alongside investors on their very first real estate deal as well as guided some of the largest investment firms in the nation through complex transactions.

Timestamps:

0:01 – Get Ready To Be Plugged Into The Money

1:06 – Jay’s New Book: “Where To Get The Money Now” –https://www.JayConner.com/Book

2:16 – Today’s guest: Dave Seymour

4:27 – The Secret Origin of Dave Seymour

8:10 – Dave talks about when he started his real estate business.

10:10 – Early struggles and best lesson learned by Dave Seymour.

14:18 – What niche in the real estate business that you focused on?

16:49 – The best way to grow capital.

21:07 – Dave talks about his reality tv show “Flipping Boston”

24:06 – What does the law of reciprocity means to Dave Seymour?

26:54 – How does the law of reciprocity apply in real estate investing?

28:22 – Books recommended by Dave

29:04 – Dave’s parting comments: “ You don’t have to know everything. Educate don’t speculate”

30:39 – Connect with Dave Seymour – https://www.FreedomVenture.com

Private Money Academy Conference:

https://jaysliveevent.com/live/?oprid=&ref=42135

Have you read Jay’s new book: Where to Get The Money Now? It is available FREE (all you pay is the shipping and handling) at https://www.JayConner.com/Book

Free Webinar: http://bit.ly/jaymoneypodcast

Jay Conner is a proven real estate investment leader. Without using his own money or credit, Jay maximizes creative methods to buy and sell properties with profits averaging $64,000 per deal.

What is Real Estate Investing? Live Private Money Academy Conference

https://youtu.be/QyeBbDOF4wo

YouTube Channel

https://www.youtube.com/c/RealEstateInvestingWithJayConner

iTunes:

https://podcasts.apple.com/ca/podcast/private-money-academy-real-estate-investing-jay-conner/id1377723034

Listen to our Podcast:

https://realestateinvestingdeals.mypodcastworld.com/11213/the-reality-of-real-estate-investing-with-dave-seymour-jay-conner-the-private-money-authority

The Reality of Real Estate Investing with Dave Seymour & Jay Conner

Jay Conner (01:44):

After 16 years as a firefighter and a paramedic, my special guest launched his career, rapidly becoming one of the nation’s top real estate investors himself. So within his first few years as a real estate investor, he had transacted millions of dollars of real estate and had become one of the nation’s leading experts in both residential and commercial transactions.

Well, his unabridged passion for business and real estate put him on the radar very, very quickly in the A&E television network, and other multiple television stations and organizations like CBS, ABC, CNBC, Fox News, and CNN. Well, the New York Times reported that my guest’s series titled, “Flipping Boston,” posted the highest ratings ever for the A&E Network at the time of airing. Well, my guest has been sought after as the tell-it-like-it-is motivator. Well folks, my guest, friend, and fellow mastermind member is Mr. Dave Seymour. So welcome to the Private Money Academy Podcast, Dave!

Dave Seymour (03:39):

My Lord, I was looking around to find the guy that you were just describing.

And then I have one of those moments, “Oh, it’s me.” Yeah. I’ve kicked some butt and taken some names in my career. God bless you, man. It’s a pleasure to be with you, dude. It really is. Thanks for having me on.

Jay Conner (03:59):

Well, I’m excited to have you on Dave. I mean, you have got quite the story. I mean, there’s not many of us guys and gals out here that have had the trip and the journey that you had. So, yes, we want to hear all about “Flipping Boston” and being on the A&E Network. But before we get to that, you got your seatbelt on? You ready to go?

Dave Seymour (04:22):

I’m ready to rock and roll, brother. I’m ready. Let’s rock and roll. You got it.

Jay Conner (04:26):

Well, tell us, how did you get started in real estate?

Dave Seymour (04:29):

Yeah. Great question. It’s always a good opener. It’s like you said, I was a firefighter and a paramedic for many years. I’m actually an immigrant to the United States of America. Don’t tell anybody. It’s a secret. I came from London, England back in 1986. I became a naturalized citizen. Absolutely loved what I was doing, but the challenge was, I wasn’t very financially literate back then, Jay, and I suffered the consequences of financial illiteracy and I got hurt pretty badly during the crash of 2008-09. I was a firefighter paramedic. I was working construction. I was working retail security. I was working about 120 hours a week and I couldn’t make ends meet. And I very quickly realized that what I was doing wasn’t working. I was following the herd as I call it, 401-Ks, et cetera, et cetera. Debt was bad.

Saved money. I mean, all of the misnomers that I was given from years of education. But anyway, I found myself in 2008 losing my primary residence, a pre-foreclosure scenario cost me a marriage, Jay, and it was a serious side to all of this stuff, relationship-wise. It wasn’t easy to be a father to my son or a husband to my wife when I was working that many hours, I was out of the house. And it’s funny, man. I look back at it today and I have a bright smile. At my lowest, lowest point, I always kind of looked north for some help and guidance and I’m screaming and shouting at my God. And I’m like, “What did I do wrong?!” I didn’t lie. I didn’t cheat. Didn’t steal.

I worked hard. I was a man among men. Worker among workers, and yet everything had turned to crap. And I’m shouting at my God and I’m like, “Help, help!” Those that seek shall find, right? And in that moment of clarity or insanity, depending on how you want to look at it, a commercial came on the radio and it was, “Teach me foreclosure.” I was in my pickup truck. “Teach me foreclosure. Free one and a half hour seminar coming to your neck of the woods. Do you want to be a real estate investor? Do you want to learn how to do transactional deals with no money down, no credit?” And I’m like, well, I got no credit. My credit score is like 2. I’ve got no money. I’m losing my house. But I believe that it worked, Jay.

That was what was important. Like I had faith that real estate was a vehicle to wealth because I’d seen it, working on the construction sites, the investors showed up. They didn’t have any dirt on their boots. They were driving nicer cars. They got shiny white teeth. They were smiling. I wasn’t. So that was how it started, man. I went to a seminar. I’m a product of real estate education and training. And I took to it like a duck to water. I had no way to go but up really, was the answer to it. And I put one foot in front of the other. Worked with my now-wife, Mary Beth, for the 3-day class, and invested $27,000 on her credit cards. She was my first private lender, go figure, right? My wife. It’s the truth. I looked at her and I said, “What do you think?” It was $27,000 for like 5 classes.

I said, “What do you think, baby?” Then she goes, “I don’t know, what do you think?” I said, “I can’t keep doing what I’ve been doing. You know, the cost just keeps going up. The emotional costs, the physical costs.” She said, “Go get ’em!” She said, “I’m proud of you. I love you. I support you in anything you want to do.” And I looked at her, I said, “I’m so glad you said that. We’ve got to use your credit cards, mine are maxed out.” That was the truth and that’s how it all began. So yeah, kind of a long story, short, short story long, however you want to put it, but that was it.

Jay Conner (08:09):

So what year did you start your education and when did you go full-time real estate investing?

Dave Seymour (08:19):

Yeah, I started my first classes in late 2007 and 2008. Like the foreclosure crisis was just beginning to ramp up. And I started learning how to do short sales and distressed assets. And 18 months later, I quit the fire department and I say, “I quit.” I didn’t really quit. I retired. And the reason I retired was it got to a point where it cost me way too much money to go to work. It is as simple as that. I had made enough noise and grabbed enough attention in those 18 months that I was in the process of doing the TV show, “Flipping Boston.” I had surrounded myself with different people. I learned about internet marketers and the different ways of lead generation and attraction and execution and contracts and money. And I was like, all in man. I was like, where am I? Where has this been my whole life? You know, I’m like, I’m alive!

And that was it. That was how it started.

Jay Conner (09:22):

I experienced the same exact thing when I got into real estate investing. It was like, “My lands, where has this been all my life?” And my very first real estate investing seminar that I went to, I had already been doing this business for 6 years. My lands, don’t start out that way, get your education first. But I was cut off and lost my lines of credit in January of 2009. And that’s what triggered me to go to my first educational seminar to learn about private money. And that’s what got me going, this world of private money. So you got in there 18 months after getting your education. You retired from the firefighting and paramedic world. What were some of your early struggles when you started out and what are the lessons you learned from them?

Dave Seymour (10:18):

Yeah, that’s a great question. The biggest struggle I ever had was with my own head. Growing up a blue-collar guy now moving into a white-collar world. It was very hard for me to believe early in my career that people would sell assets to me for a discount. It was about self-worth, like I did a ton of personal development as part of my business development. Believing that I was worthy, believing that I had something of value, which was my education, which was the way that I looked at a real estate transaction. And as you do it, here’s the key. I think Jay, and I don’t know if you agree with this, I anticipate that you do, but as long as I was always in motion, in forward motion, as long as I was putting, honestly, my very best effort with one foot in front of the other.

If I was removing the negativity around me, the people who said, “You can’t.” I loved it when somebody said I can’t because I’d immediately turn it to, “I can.” And I just execute. And I just somehow succeeded. So it was about working on my mind first. A guy said to me, “Dave, there’s 6 inches of detrimental thinking that lives between your ears.” He said, “Only you can control that. Only you can. Are you wealth? Are you confidence? Are you joy? Are you value?” He said, “Because if you believe you are, then that will resonate to the people around you.” And I started looking at opportunities where I could bring massive value. And it wasn’t money-driven, Jay. It wasn’t money. Money was the by-product of service first. Helping a distressed homeowner. Looking after your contractors and treating them like equals, not like they were lesser citizens or whatever. Leaving my pride and my ego and pocket it to one side. Stepping into every relationship with everybody being at a hundred. And losing points rather be at zero.

I’d always have to gain points. You know what I mean? I bought an attitude of gratitude to everything that I did. And I just kept going, man. There’s a book out there. It says, “Six inches short of gold, or six feet short of gold.” And the idea is, is it just that one more phone call? Is it just that one more author? Is it just that one more relationship? Are you gonna quit before it’s time to succeed? And what happens is, 90% of our competition, if not higher, quit. And that’s why guys like us succeed because we stay the course. We have the tenacity, we have the drive, we have the faith, the belief. And again, surrounding myself with like-minded people who wanted to do what I was doing and that overcame any hurdle. There aren’t any hurdles. They’re just little blips along the radar. It’s as simple as that.

Jay Conner (13:13):

Well, what you just said, Dave, is one of the reasons that you and I resonate so well with each other and that is, it’s never about the money for the long-term. Making a lot of money can be a motivation for somebody in their short term. But you know, it’s been my experience over all the years of being in business. Whenever I got involved in an activity or an opportunity, and the only interest that I had in that opportunity was to make money, I never succeeded. I never succeeded. And it all comes down to what you just said, having a servant’s heart. I know you gotta love Zig Ziglar like I love Zig Ziglar, right?

Dave Seymour (13:54):

Right on my wall, right there. “You can have everything in life you want, if you will just help enough other people get what they want.” Zig Ziglar, it’s right there on my wall, brother.

Jay Conner (14:07):

That’s it, that’s it.

Dave Seymour (14:13):

Look at that, I’m getting goosebumps on my arms.

Jay Conner (14:13):

Mine are standing up on my neck. So, as far as your real estate investing journey, what have you focused on? Fix and flips? Wholesaling? What niches of real estate have you really been involved in and like, just knocked it out of the park?

Dave Seymour (14:34):

“Yes” is the answer to all of them. Yeah. Look, here’s the thing. As you become more intelligent in your industry, you see more opportunities. So, the TV show, “Flipping Boston,” pigeon-holed me as the grumpy construction guy who just got it done, which is all BS, it’s reality TV, right? But the reality of it was, I really did buy houses with my partner, we really did renovate them, fix them, sell them, and make a profit. Wholesaling is easier money. It’s just great negotiation skills, understanding the mechanics. I think the biggest disservice in the education space is that people say, if you just learn how to be a wholesaler, then you’ll make quick money. Well, that’s garbage. You gotta know how to be a rehabber so that you can be a great wholesaler, right?

If you don’t understand the mechanics, the numbers, the time, the ARVs, et cetera, et cetera. So I’ve always been in that field. Always, always will be in that field. Although it’s not my focus so much today. Along the way, buy and hold, get some cash flow coming in, get some appreciation, let the tenant go to work and pay down your debt service for you, thank you very much. Treat them like the gold that they are. Don’t be a slum landlord, give them clean, decent, affordable housing, give them a response immediately when they need you, if you can, to make sure that you build that relationship with them. They’re the most valuable asset that you have as a real estate investor, is your tenant base. And then today, we level up. It’s always a case of levelling up. I can’t sit still. It’s my A.D.D. DNA. And today we’re in the commercial real estate space. I run a $100 million private equity fund that invests in multi-family assets in the Sunbelt. And we just started our build-for-rent strategies where we’ve got 6-acreage plots in Florida, another 8-acreage plots in South Carolina and Atlanta. And now we’re going to be building houses for the folks who want to rent and not own. So there’s a trajectory, Jay, which part of that do you want to address for us?

Jay Conner (16:44):

Well, you’ve done it all and it’s just part of ascending up the ladder. Now you just mentioned that you’ve got a pretty large fund for the commercial projects. So like myself, you know a whole lot about growing capital, attracting capital. I mean, both you and I could talk a long time about that, but let’s just stop here for a moment. Tell us from your experience, what’s the best way to grow capital?

Dave Seymour (17:14):

So look, there is an absolute learning curve, right? So when I was doing single-family buy fix and flip, attracting an investor, first of all, who understood the business, was critically important. So you could do that through show and tell. This is what we paid for it. This is what we did to it. This is how much we made. And this is what our private lender made on it. Protected, secured, and insured. 8% interest. Interest only, blah, blah, blah. You know the pitch, right? And that becomes word of mouth. So, my portfolio attracted that retail investor. I’m not going to lie, Jay. I’m going to be truly transparent. It can be hard work. It could be heavy lifting sometimes with the retail investor. We use the term, “If it feels like I’m pushing a donkey up a hill, then I got to stop doing it.”

Right? So how do I get attraction? How do I get motion? Repetitive actions? It’s by being successful. The very first private loan I took was $35,000 from a lieutenant at the fire department. And I said, “So, Mike, could you give me $35,000? I’m going to put you in a third lien position on this property. But I’m going to give you your $35,000 back in 3 weeks plus an additional $5,000.” I knew I could do it because the property was on the contract. We just needed this money to squeeze roots at the finish line. So I give him his money back in 2 weeks and he’s ecstatic. And he said to me that day, “Dude, that was a great deal!” I said, “Thanks, Lt. I appreciate it.” He said, “If you ever,” magic words, “if you ever need money again, you come to me first.”

“And if I don’t have it, I know somebody who does.” And what he was referring to was his father because his father was a retired chief. So, the first one is always the toughest one. But once you’ve got traction underneath that, it becomes a system. It becomes repetitive and it creates its own motion. Today, I’m in a different sandbox altogether. Today, I attract capital through the portfolio. I attract capital through family offices, institutional capital. How would you like this for a problem, Jay? You ready? I have 18 months to put together a half a billion dollar portfolio because I’ve got an arbitrage trust company that’s ready to take it out at a full cap on the buy-side and an 8.5, 9% cash on cash return. So, there’s a guy waving a half a billion dollar check in my face and he’s like, “Go find me the real estate. Let’s go!” So, it’s interesting because the first guy that I learned commercial from was a very, very cool gentleman. His name’s Dave Lindahl. He’s in Massachusetts.

Jay Conner (20:12):

Yeah, Dave’s a good friend of mine.

Dave Seymour (20:14):

Okay. So DL said to me, “Dave, it’s just zeroes. More zeroes on the way in, more zeros on the way out. Just run the deal the same way.” And I never forgot that. So yeah, that’s how we raise money today, man.

Jay Conner (20:30):

That’s awesome. Before I get to my next question, let me ask you this first. So everybody’s dying to hear the short story summary of your television stardom of the A&E show “Flipping Boston.” So take a moment and tell us about that. Well, before you tell us about reality TV, I tell people whenever the ask me, “Jay, tell me about all these flipping shows.” And I’ll say, “The only thing real about reality TV is none of it’s real, except Dave Seymour’s Flipping Boston because he actually did have to do all that.” But anyway, take a moment and tell me and the audience about that reality TV experience.

Dave Seymour (21:12):

Look, it’s a blessing and a curse, depending on how you want to look at it. The blessing was the national exposure. I don’t know about anybody else. I didn’t get rich off of a TV show. I think it was $15,000 an episode at the end of our career there. Here’s what the benefits are. The exposure. It put me on the Today Show multiple times. It put me on the Rachel Ray show multiple times. It allowed me to be recognized as a national expert and a pundit on CNBC and CBS and other networks. So that was the caveat to it. The nitty gritty of a real estate transaction being filmed for a TV show. If it’s a half an hour TV show like these fix and flippers, these shows on HGTV, you know what I mean?

If it’s a half hour show, look, man. Paint and carpet, paint and carpet. You’re not making 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, 90, a hundred thousand dollars on paint and carpet, okay? So stop it. Be serious. They’re creating a TV show. You know, with us up here in New England, my inventory’s some old, old ladies, man. I mean, 1890, you know, 1880. The oldest lady I ever loved was 1892, I think she was born. And she was an old school in Newburyport that we turned into a couple of high-end condominiums. But we really did rip the houses apart and put them back together again. And the thing is, I will always give kudos to my ex-partner, Pete, on this, was he ran the numbers as if there was nothing special about the exposure or anything else. Like the numbers were real. The real numbers in, the real numbers out. The profit, whether it was a skinny margin or a better margin, he stayed true to the numbers.

Look, can you flip a house in 3 weeks and make 40, 50 grand? Maybe. You can flip a contract and make 40 grand. And you can do that in 24 hours if you know what I know, right? So, reality TV had to create a story, had to create a show. And I allowed a goofball like me to have some fun. I’d break the fourth wall all the time. The fourth wall is the camera. I got to break it all the time, just not talking to the camera. You know what I mean? They’re like, “You can’t do that.” And I’d say, “Keep it in there. It’s good.” So yeah, if you’re watching those shows, watch them for the show value, do not watch them for educational value because if you’re watching for educational value, you’re going to get your butt handed to you. We’ll watch them for show value and I’ll enjoy the pretty ladies. Enjoy the drama. Oh my God, the pipes burst! Let’s go to commercials. Right? You can play all of that as silly games if you’re hunting. It’s a show, come on now.

Jay Conner (23:58):

I love it. Thanks for telling it like it is, Dave. After all, you are known as the “tell it like it is guy.” So both you and I, Dave, are big believers in the law of reciprocity. So 2 questions. Tell everybody, what’s your definition of the law of reciprocity? And how does it apply to real estate investing?

Dave Seymour (24:20):

Yeah, that’s such a good question. Look, man reciprocity, they actually did, like the intelligence psychoanalyst kind of guys and girls looked at reciprocity, and it’s part of our DNA. And our DNA says as homo sapiens, that if I do something for you that is perceived to be valuable, you in return will do something back for me. But don’t bring value to someone with an expectation of value. Just give because giving is good, right? Start there. Our rewards are coming from high up above. They’re not always coming in the paycheck. You know what I mean? So reciprocity is just going out and being of service, I believe. I know a guy, who I see as the ultimate in reciprocity. I know a guy who’s financially stable. This guy has a couple of boys. They’re now 11 and 9 years old.

And what this man does is he takes his children to Walmart the last 2 weeks before Christmas every year. And he will put down $5,000 at the layaway counter and tell the lady behind the counter, “Pay down $5,000 worth of layaways, whatever comes up on your screen until those layaways are all paid off.” And he just shows his sons that. That’s reciprocity, this man. And I’ve had many, many, many conversations with him. And he says, “Reciprocity has put me in a position to be financially free.” And the Law of Reciprocity says if I want to keep something, I have to give it away. Say that again. If you have something of value, if you’re going to keep it, then you have to give it away. Pass it on, is what we use for terminology. So that’s my definition of reciprocity. And here’s the other thing, man, when it comes to charity and giving them philanthropy, don’t do it to get recognized, do something good for somebody else and then keep your mouth shut. Because that I believe is the definition of humility, which works side by side with reciprocity. So that’s just my own philosophy on it. And it’s served me pretty well.

Jay Conner (26:37):

It reminds me of what Jesus told the Pharisees when they’re out there praying in the public square, their arms lifted up and leg Jesus said, “Go pray in your closet and shut the door,” right? I love it. How does the law of reciprocity apply in real estate investing?

Dave Seymour (27:00):

Look, through coaching. Through passing it on. Through being humble. Okay? There’s a lot of ego in our industry, Jay. Let’s just be honest about it, right? “Look at me, I’m the best. I’ve got a private jet. I’ve got a big house,” you know, all of that stuff. I don’t believe that encompasses reciprocity. Reciprocity is an opportunity to give somebody a hand up, not give somebody a handout, right? When you’re in a position to share knowledge, knowledge is only powerful if implemented, right? So that’s what I like about real estate reciprocity. And then we get to pass that along to our clients. To a homeowner in distress with whatever that situation is and the reciprocity in there works along the way of, “You know what, that person knows somebody else.” And my reputation will always walk before me. Unfortunately, bad news travels faster than good news. We all know that. And if you make loud, good news with clients and let them speak your words afterwards, then reciprocity and momentum follows afterwards. So that’s how I look at it, brother, right or wrong. It’s certainly good.

Jay Conner (28:21):

I love it. Dave, what book have you gifted to other people more than any other book?

Dave Seymour (28:28):

It’s “The Secret” by Rhonda Byrne. Law of attraction. And then my good friend, Jack Canfield’s “Secrets of Success.”

Jay Conner (28:38):

Oh yes. My wife, Carol Joy, and I went to see him. I’m looking at the certificate up here. We went to Jack Canfield’s first event of his, that was The Breakthrough to Success. And I got so excited. I went back and paid the big bucks and got certified to teach Jack Canfield stuff because I just love it. Dave, I have just loved having you here on the podcast as we wind down. Do you have any parting comments or final advice that you would like to share with the audience and then be sure to tell the folks how they can get hold of you.

Dave Seymour (29:13):

Yeah, for sure. It’s always interesting how you wrap up a conversation. For me, I think about the people who listened to us, Jay. What do they want? What are their needs? How can we serve them best? And I know it sounds kind of kitschy, but I always say, “To thine own self, be true.” Is what you’ve been doing working? Be honest with yourself. And if it hasn’t, it’s okay to do something different. You don’t have to know everything before you do anything. Take the first step. Educate, don’t speculate. And find the people that are doing what you want to do at the highest level possible. Do your due diligence and then step into action. A lot of fantastic people sitting on couches, wishing and wanting and dreaming. But then there’s a smaller population of guys like us who are out there actually doing it, right?

Not just teaching it, but we’re actually out there doing it as well. So step into your own greatness. And if you want to connect with us, if you want to learn anything about what we do at Freedom Venture Investments, I know Jay’s got a website that he can send you to there. I’m old school, brother. You could pick up the phone and call us at (781) 922-4418. One of my team members will pick up the phone and connect to me if that’s possible. I try to be as available as I can. So I just want to keep it moving forward, brother. I’m the opposite of stale.

#Jay Conner #Private Money Lender #Real Estate Business #Real Estate #Real Estate Investing #Real Estate Investor #Real Estate Profit #The Private Money Authority #Flip Your House

18 notes · View notes

boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 35

💖first time reader click here💖

Reader and Eddie going on their mission. They're all morons, okay? Some canon-typical violence, bad guys being bad guys. You guys can see that I treat the fighting plot points as total crack, right?

Eddie Brock was pissed, at the Avengers mostly - for not telling him of my accident - but also at me, for the fact that I didn't call him sooner. Venom had taken over at some point, eager to participate in my plan - and it I was being honest, my uncle's space boo was the one I had relied on to participate in the mayhem that was to be caused to finally let my family breathe in peace.

The Avengers wore various expressions of guilt when an angry Eddie stormed the tower, berating them for not getting into contact with him when I was in danger. Venom growled at them, too, just the right amount of teeth and drool for Tony to quickly usher me out to 'take a walk, have some fun, build a snowman' with uncle Eddie and Venom. It was almost too easy, too predictable. The guilt that reared it's ugly head was stomped down by me and two glasses of whiskey in Eddie's rented Airbnb as I went into the fine details of my plan.

Both I and Eddie were equally surprised when Venom dropped their sarcastic, angsty teenager attitude and approached the topic with maturity, giving valuable input. The goth space goo was much, much smarter than their first impressions showed. I belatedly remembered their remark about being an apex predator species... Scary.

The plan was pretty simple.

Eddie was a professional investigative reporter and an unregistered mutant, his files being hidden so deeply due to the alien nature of the symbiote that it was unlikely that underground gangs would have any idea as to who he truly was. His involvement with SHIELD was buried under so much red tape, even Coulson himself had very little idea about Eddie's body-mate.

My uncle would sniff around the mutant underworld, just enough to catch a whiff of the mercenary's whereabouts. It should be enough if he was as famous as Natasha claimed him to be. And if it wasn't enough... I'd be bait. I doubt that the merc knew the box has been retrieved and secured; every now and then, I still caught chatter about the SHIELD agents trailing me catching a person sent to monitor me. They weren't even trying to hide that hard.

I had my suspicions SHIELD was indirectly using me as bait, too, and both Eddie and Venom were inclined to agree with the notion. Over beers and ridiculous amount of chocolate cake, a third side of the operation Baby Thief had been formed. SHIELD played their own game, the Avengers and SI threw a ridiculous amount of resources on their own and then there was me and Eddie, two halves of a whole idiot.

For once, the plan didn't go south immediately off the bat. Eddie and Venom got the information - there was a lot of uproar in the mutant community, rumours about an artifact that would let them assume their rightful place in the world, pushing the pesky humans off their pedestal. I definitely supported mutant rights - but the common notion that violence was necessary to achieve the recognition of said rights didn't sit well with me at all. Eddie agreed with me, his own curiousity pushing him to dig deeper into the situation.

My uncle could be a brilliant investigative reporter with the proper motivation and his significant other at the side. I could never tire of Venom's stories: each and every time they saved Eddie from making a clown out of himself was remembered, documented and brought up at the quickest available opportunity. I haven't laughed so hard in months.

The positives of our plan? We got a hot trail and enough information to know about the mercenary's whereabouts. We possessed the manpower needed to off him in record time, Venom eagerly offering his digestive system for our convenience.

The negatives? We'd need to bring me. Apparently there was a hefty bounty on my pretty little head and the merc himself had given up trying to chase me, hiring a bunch of muscle to do the legwork for him instead. The mercenary, a man who went by the nickname Cadre, was an ex-shield agent, who knew enough to successfully avoid the organisation following hot on his heels.

And neither SHIELD, nor Tony nor Eddie knew who had ordered the retrieval of the artifact. The mysterious person had deep pockets: all of the men were supplied with high grade weaponry and the mutants participating in the missions had equipment specifically tailored to their powers.

Perhaps, I wasn't as clever as I wanted myself to be. There was something big and ugly brewing and the bounty on my head was just the tip of the iceberg. But what was done, was done, and Venom was looking forward to a hefty meal and we set the date of Eddie "kidnapping" me in a few days time.

I hoped I'd make it home for Christmas.

The biggest surprise was that nobody suspected anything. Not even Natasha's watchful eye and inherent knowledge of shit about to be stirred - somehow, Nat always just knew those things - had revealed itself and that's how I knew it was absolutely necessary for me to be successful. There was no room for failure. In the day before my planned trip to Cadre's lair, I forced the team into a movie night and took extra time with everybody, seeing as even the most cheerful people - Thor and Wanda - walked around with sullen faces for most of the time. Perhaps, deep down, I knew that chances of my plan going awry were pretty damn high.

It felt like I was leaving for war. And perhaps, I was. The nervous, anxious energy increased as the hour X drew closer and I couldn't hide it anymore. My insomnia wore Tony's face: I could see his disappointment as clear as day, but I figured he'd forgive me for the betrayal eventually. Every single thing I hid from my newfound family made me feel a traitor. Unfortunately, there was simply no other option.

That afternoon, Eddie picked me up from the tower and drove me to one of the hideouts that belonged to Cabre. He'd tied my hands together and blindfolded me, all for show of course, whilst Venom briefly connected with my body to induce a drowsy state of mind. I didn't actually mind to be drugged and was way more wary of the symbiote's effects on my body but the space pudding extended his tentacles so quickly, I barely had the time to even swear at them.

To my (and their) surprise, it wasn't as bad as we thought it would be. In my hazy state, I briefly head Venom growl that I could be a decent short-term host if something would to happen with Eddie; I did not know how that information made me feel but did not disregard it completely. I was out of my depth on this one yet marched on towards the danger with grim determination.

"Here's the girl," Eddie's voice penetrated through the curtain of chemicals that Venom had dosed me with; I was tossed none too gently on what felt like a mattress, the landing haphazard but not painful. Venom must've dulled my pain receptors, too. "Where's our money?"

I was unceremoniously groped, my face examined by a man with ice-cold hands. Whatever he found, he deemed it satisfactory. "I'm impressed," He whistled. "We've been trying to get her for months. Care to share how you achieved this?" The strange man sounded suspicious.

"WE HAVE OUR OWN TRICKS," Venom's deep voice filled out the room like thick smoke and I just knew that the man who had been groping me was twitching in discomfort. "SO?"

"Alright, alright," The man mumbled, voice unsteady. My drowsiness slowly began to recede and I finally could focus my eyes somewhat; Eddie was partially obscured by the writhing, onyx mass of his symbiote and the man was dialing up the phone, speaking in a rapid-fire dialect I did not know. "Cabre will be here in an hour. Care for a beer?" Just like that, the man was obviously attempting to placate Eddie.

"HOT CHOCOLATE," Venom announced flatly and I had to struggle to hold back my laughter at the image of a seven feet tall tentacle monster sipping hot cocoa from a tiny porcelain cup. My nerves had me feeling ten types of way, as usual, and props to Ven making me unable to speak. I would have already killed myself by running my mouth ten times over.

The hour passed by with me floating in my mindsphere, Eddie loudly playing Candy Crush on his phone and Venom consuming ridiculous amounts of hot chocolate. It was absurd and the eerie calm was beginning to make me suspicious; I had expected... More. Threatening thugs with guns, experiments, blood tests and physical violence. Instead, the man who met with Eddie was sitting with a vacant, bored expression as he practiced card tricks in the corner furthest away from Venom.

Finally, a knock on the door forced all of us to pay attention to the newcomer. It was a tall, massively built man in his early forties. His face was covered in scars, narrow red lines that looked like small cuts; one of his eyes was completely black while the other was blue. He looked like the man at the coffee shop but at the same time, nothing like him at all.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," His voice was low and quiet. If not for the heavyweight weapon hanging over his shoulder, I would have considered him to be one of those men who only look threatening but actually are gentle giants. With steps too quiet for a man his size, he approached me, crouching down to look me in the face. "Hello, child. I've been looking for you for a long time. It's a shame we had to meet this way," He removed the strands of hair sticking to my face. For all purposes, his touch could have been considered fatherly. "Richard, bring the money." With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the man who was babysitting me and Eddie and he promptly disappeared behind the steel door.

"Hello," Eddie briefly shook his hands with Cabre after the merc left me alone. I noted Venom had disappeared into the reporter's body completely. "We are Venom," Eddie introduced himself (they introduced themselves?).

"Cabre," The Merc watched my honorary uncle with a sharp eye, taking note of Eddie's lack of weapons, his worn clothes and the shaggy hair, the bags under his eyes. "Tell me, Venom, what do you know of this child?"

"Not much," Eddie shrugged, convincingly. "Just that the Avengers picked her up for some reason and locked her up in Stark's tower. We're guessing she didn't like it much 'cuz she kept sneaking out and trying to shake off the tail. Had to go through quite a few SHIELD agents to get to her," Just like we agreed, Eddie spoke with slight disdain towards Tony and SHIELD, making sure to let Cabre believe he was on the mutants' side. "We just need the money, man. Not many people will hire us," To top it up, Eddie spread his arms, showing his skin ripple and move on it's own prominently under his ratty t-shirt. Atta boy!

Cabre appeared to have bought the lie, chuffing sympathetically, before pulling out a tablet and typing on it. "Well, not for long. My superiors have found an artifact that, if unlocked properly, will render most of the technology suppressing mutant powers useless. They won't be able to get rid of us that easily anymore."

Eddie nodded eagerly, for all purposes appearing to be ecstatic about the news. "Yeah, heard some rumors here and there. Well, you and your superiors know where to find me. I could always go with some extra cash," He scratched his head, carefully watching Cabre's fingers dance on the keyboard. "What's the kid got to do with it anyway? Seems like an ordinary spoiled brat to me," Eddie threw me a look, blinking twice. The fatigue and wariness, courtesy of Venom, had begun to recede quite some time ago; with Eddie's signal, I knew the shitshow was about to start very soon.

Eddie was smart, however, finding out the bits of information SHIELD hadn't bothered to disclose to me. The residue that the cursed box had left in me was removed, so I could not understand why SHIELD was still guarding me. There had to have been another reason, a reason that neither of us knew for sure.

Cabre paused his typing. "We've been watching her for years. She's a genius. We were hoping she could help us solve a few problems..." The merc paused to rub the bridge of his nose. "We tried to get her to come willingly but her parents forbade her from it. My superiors suggested to use the artifact but something malfunctioned." For all purposes, Cabre was looking apologetic. "I am not overly fond of kidnapping children but some things just need to be done." With that, the man turned around, landing his eyes on me. "Glad to see you're up and about." Something about his smile was unnatural, forced, malicious.

"Charmed to meet you," I sat up, dazed and confused about the turn of events. The things he was saying, they didn't add up. I hadn't received any requests for my participation in ANY kind of project, illlegal or not. No scholarships, no internship offers. Something was very, very wrong.

As soon as Cabre's back was turned, Venom enveloped Eddie, turning themselves into the seven feet tall outer space monstrosity I had seen on the first day. Their combined form was terrifying - but Cabre's fingers merely twitched at the rapid change of the situation as he took slow steps towards me. "Hmm," His voice still quiet, he once again crouched in front of me. "You fought us off once but we are many. There is nowhere to run, child," Cabre's eyes began to darken, his speech turning flat.

I recognized the speech pattern, recalled the expressionless, vacant face that stared at me. Cabre was infected with the Legion from the cursed box; I hadn't prepared for that, hadn't even regarded that, thinking the little epic speech the demon had given me was a mere intimidation tactic. Fear bloomed within me, opening it's jaws like a hungry Venus flytrap but I refused to succumb to it, clenching my fists against the waves of paralyzing terror.

Venom made a confused growling noise behind me, extending a tentacle to push Cabre away; with a sickeningly wet splat, their whole form collided with the opposite wall, sliding down it like a puddle of misshapen goop. "MORSEL, GET OUT." The symbiote growled, reforming itself back.

"Silence, beast!" Cabre shrieked, unstrapping his weapon and aiming it at Venom. No bullets came out as he pressed the trigger but my ear started ringing, eyes watering as the whole form of the symbiote began to morph and ripple. Pained groans and whines came from them. A sonic gun?

"Screw you, man," I attempted to draw Cabre's attention to myself by kicking out a leg towards the gun, disrupting his arm briefly. Things were going to shit faster than a party full of teenagers and alcohol. "Fuck you, listen, FUCK YOU!" I knew antagonizing people was my best skill and that's what I did, figuring the time needed for Venom to reassemble themself could be acquired if Cabre was pissed off enough at me.

The backhand hurt, not going to lie. I saw stars from that one sloppy hit the possessed merc delivered to my face. The adrenaline rush allowed me to stay somewhat coherent and just like that time when I was trapped in my nightmares, I dove for Cabre, winding myself around him as both of us landed on the floor in a heap of limbs.

Despite my best hopes, Venom remained a puddle of black on the floor. I saw something shiny attach itself to Eddie's chest; apparently that something prevented them from combining into one again. My smaller size proved to be a great advantage; I remembered Venom's words about being a suitable short-term host and with a shriek, I placed my palm into the nearest piece of symbiote I could reach, my vision being obscured by blackness a second later.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #Stephen Strange x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you

58 notes · View notes

foxthefanboi · 4 years ago

Text

Little Brother

Summary: Dean finds out Sam is a guy. He doesn’t get it, but he’s going to try.

Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Young/FTM Sam Winchester, Young Dean Winchester Word Count: 1,000 Rating: General AO3: Link

Notes: The pronouns I used are intentional, as the story is written from Dean's perspective.

---

It’s almost nine at night when Dean gets back with the burgers he’d bought with the money he’d made hustling pool at a bar earlier.

When he opens the door, he’s not surprised to see Sam doing pushups in the open space on the floor. The girl’s got an unhealthy obsession with exercise. She looks up at Dean and gives a quick smile, but doesn’t stop working out.

“You know, Sammy, guys aren’t going to be interested in you if you bulk up too much,” Dean points out, setting the burgers on the table and slouching into one of the chairs.

Sam’s quiet for a moment, her lips moving with the count of the number of reps she’s at, until she finishes and sits back on her knees. She brushes a lock of her short hair out of her eyes as she catches her breath.“Good,” she says.

“‘Good’? What, you’re not interested in guys?” Dean asks, unwrapping his burger.

Sam shakes her head. She grabs a plastic cup from by the sink and fills it up to the top, then drains it in a few long gulps.

“So you’re a lesbian,” Dean offers.

Sam glares at him. “I’m not a lesbian.”

“It’s okay if you are,” Dean says, teasing, but he also means it. “You know I’ll love you no matter what.”

“I’m not!” Sam says. She opens her mouth to say something else, then takes a deep breath and bites it back instead. She sits down across from Dean and grabs a burger from the bag, ripping open the wrapping and digging into it.

Dean wants to keep joking about it, but Sam clearly seems done with that line of conversation, so he moves on. “How was school?”

“Good,” Sam says, his mouth full and his voice muffled. “We got our report cards today.”

“Oh?” Dean says. He spies Sam’s backpack leaning against the wall, a manila envelope peeking out of the unzipped top. He grabs it and pulls out the report. “Let’s see what Dad has to look forward to hearing about.”

“Dean!” Sam says, lunging across the table and trying to grab it out of Dean’s hand. Dean holds it out of reach, his eyes scanning the teacher’s comments near the bottom.

Sam is clearly a bright student, and could be a high achiever if he applied himself more.

Dean frowns. “Are you sure they gave this to the right Sam?”

“Dean!” Sam snatches it out of Dean’s hand but not before Dean confirms the Winchester written at the top of the page.

“‘Himself’?” Dean asks. “What, they think you’re a guy or something?”

“I am a guy!” Sam snaps.

Dean raises his eyebrows and lets out a surprised laugh. “You what? You’re telling me you want them to think you’re a boy? Why?”

“Because that’s who I am, Dean,” Sam says, her defiant eyes meeting Dean’s across the table. She crosses her arms.

“I don’t get it.” Dean tries to put it together in his head. She’s been tomboyish since she was a toddler, sure, but actually claiming to be a boy when she clearly is not? “Is this because you didn’t have a female role model growing up? You’re trying to fit in or something?”

“No,” Sam says.

“Is this because you’re a lesbian but you want to be normal?”

“Are you serious?”

“I just don’t understand.”

“Look, it’s simple,” Sam says. “I’m a guy. There’s a little bit of… asynchrony between this”—she gestures at her body—“and this”—she points to her head.

“But what about when you get older?” Dean asks. “You can get away with it now, you’re thirteen. But you’re gonna start, you know…” He doesn’t want to think about puberty, not in relation to his sister, but it is a point to consider in all this.

“Yeah, I do know.” Sam clenches her jaw. “I really, really know. I’m doing what I can.”

“Oh,” Dean says, and the pieces start to click together. “The working out and bulking up?”

Sam nods. “And binding my chest.”

Dean’s eyes flick down to Sam’s chest. Sam crosses her arms a little higher on her chest. “Dude.”

“You brought it up!” Dean says, feeling his ears burn. “So,” he says, desperately wanting to change the subject away from his sister’s boobs, “is there anything else that can be done?”

“Hormones,” Sam says. “Surgery.”

Dean’s eyes widen. “What? That seems a little… extreme."

“I’ve been doing research,” Sam says with a shrug. She frowns. “I just don’t know how to get the hormones. It’s not exactly like we have health insurance, and they’re pretty strictly controlled for people like me.”

“Strictly controlled?”

“No teens, for one. You have to have a note from a psychologist. Have to live as a guy for a year before you can start. All that.”

“Look, if it matters for you… I can figure something out for you,” Dean says. “If this is who you feel you’re supposed to be, I’m on board, okay?”

“Really?” Sam asks, a vulnerable undertone in his voice.

“Really, Sammy. Hey, I guess you’re lucky you got a name like Sam.”

Sam smiles. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Does this mean you’re my little brother now?”

Sam nods. “Yeah, it does.”

“Cool. I’ve always wanted a little brother,” Dean says with a grin. “Hey, you are into girls, right?”

“Yeah.”

“But not a lesbian,” he asks. Sam nods. “Oh man, I have so much to teach you.”

“Dean, I don’t want to learn it from you,” Sam says, a grimace on his face.

“Hey, that’s what big brothers are there for.”

“Dean.” Sam rolls his eyes. A thought must come up in his mind because he pauses and takes a deep breath, looking back at Dean. “Hey… Don’t tell Dad, okay?”

Dean nods, thinking about how their dad might respond. “Never. Not unless you tell me it’s okay.”

A corner of Sam’s mouth turns up. “Thanks, man.”

“Look, I meant what I said. I’ll love you no matter what.”

#Supernatural #one shot #fanfic #spn fanfic #ftm sam winchester #foxfics #sam fic #dean fic #3pov #length: medium #weechesters #supportive dean winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester

35 notes · View notes

your-dietician · 3 years ago

Text

Over 270,000 people sign petition for France vs Switzerland to be replayed

New Post has been published on https://tattlepress.com/sports/over-270000-people-sign-petition-for-france-vs-switzerland-to-be-replayed/

Over 270,000 people sign petition for France vs Switzerland to be replayed

Switzerland’s goalkeeper Yann Sommer (R) saves a penalty by France’s forward Kylian Mbappe during the UEFA EURO 2020 round of 16 football match between France and Switzerland at the National Arena in Bucharest – GETTY IMAGES

Over 270,000 fans have signed a petition calling on Uefa to replay the Euro 2020 last-16 match between France and Switzerland because “the rules (of the game) were not respected” when Swiss goalkeeper Yann Sommer saved Kylian Mbappé’s decisive penalty.

Mbappé’s miss resulted in the world champions crashing out of the tournament in Bucharest after leading their eventual conquerors 3-1 at one point in the match.

But a petition was launched by a disgruntled French fan, Pierre, in the aftermath of the penalty shootout, demanding that Uefa replay the tie because Sommer’s feet were over the line as Mbappe struck the ball. Goalkeepers need to keep at least one foot on the goal-line when facing a penalty, otherwise the spot-kick can be retaken.

Neither the referee nor Var intervened on Sommer’s save but more than 270,000 people signed the petition – which has now been closed – despite several different angles showing that Sommer’s foot was on the line when Mbappé kicked the ball.

The hosts of the petition, leslignesbougent.org, wrote that “Uefa had been officially approached to gauge its position on the matter”, and that Pierre had informed the host site that he wished for the petition to be closed after the angles showing the legality of Sommer’s position came to light. “Our servers exploded,” the site added.

The original petition read: “During the penalty shootout of the France v Switzerland match, goalkeeper Sommer was not on his line ahead of Mbappé’s shot. We ask that Switzerland’s qualification is cancelled so that the match can be replayed.

“Sport must be played within the rules and that evening the rules were not respected.”

02:53 PM

Czech Republic v Denmark

Denmark coach Kasper Hjulmand says the team is looking to Christian Eriksen as an inspiration ahead of the match against the Czech Republic in the Euro 2020 quarter-finals.

Story continues

Eriksen suffered a cardiac arrest during Denmark’s opening game of the tournament. Team-mates were left shaken after seeing him receive emergency medical treatment on the field.

Hjulmand says “we’ll play with that heart of Christian Eriksen once again.”

The winner will face either England or Ukraine in the semi-finals.

02:49 PM

Masterful Jordan Pickford has joined an elite band valued more by his country than his club

Unlike at Everton, when Pickford wears an England shirt he looks like he is sure he belongs out there, the undisputed No 1.

Jamie Carragher’s latest column for Telegraph Sport.

Jordan Pickford celebrating England’s last-16 win – GETTY IMAGES

02:38 PM

The Battle of Rome

Paul Ince’s bloody headband, chaos in the stands – and Southgate’s dark side.

England’s last trip to the Italian capital, in 1997, was another game they could not contemplate losing. David Seaman looks back on that momentous night.

Paul Gascoigne (L) and a topless Paul Ince (R) – GETTY IMAGES

02:20 PM

England get to work…

… with the quarter-final against Ukraine just over 24 hours away.

Kalvin Phillips of England trains during the England Training Session at St George’s Park on July 02 – GETTY IMAGES

Mason Mount of England trains during the England Training Session at St George’s Park on July 02 – GETTY IMAGES

Tyrone Mings shifting some tin – GETTY IMAGES

01:56 PM

Boris Johnson says he has no plans to reduce Euro 2020 stadium crowds

Prime Minister Boris Johnson said on Friday he did not plan to order a reduction in crowds attending the remaining Euro 2020 matches due to take place at Wembley.

Crowd capacity at Wembley will be increased to more than 60,000 fans for the semi-finals and final of Euro 2020 under a pilot scheme announced last week.

“Of course we’ll follow the scientific guidance and the advice if we receive any such suggestion,” Johnson said in response to a question at a news conference, alongside German Chancellor Angela Merkel who said she was worried about Uefa’s decision to let more people into stadiums.

“But at the moment… the position is very clear in the UK, which is that we have certain events which we can put on in a very careful and controlled manner with testing of everybody who goes there.”

01:34 PM

England fans in Rome

The first pictures are beginning to filter back home…

Fans gather in Rome ahead of Ukraine v England – Rome, Italy – July 2, 2021 – REUTERS

12:20 PM

Germany’s Kroos announces retirement from international football

Germany midfielder Toni Kroos has announced his retirement from international football after his team’s exit from the European Championship, the 31-year-old said on Instagram.

The 2014 World Cup winner earned 106 caps for his country, contributing 17 goals and 19 assists.

Kroos said it was clear to him “for a long time” that he would not be available for the World Cup in Qatar next year.

He said his priority now would be to focus on his club career with Real Madrid and spending time with his family.

Reuters

12:16 PM

The eight defining games of Raheem Sterling’s England career

From scapegoat to star man, Sterling has been the object of anger and criticism but is now England’s most experienced player and one of Euro 2020’s pre-eminent players.

Here, Sam Wallace runs down the eight matches that have defined his international career to date.

England’s forward Raheem Sterling celebrates the first goal during the UEFA EURO 2020 round of 16 football match between England and Germany at Wembley – GETTY IMAGES

12:00 PM

Emma Hayes signs new Chelsea deal

A revealed by Telegraph Sport in May, Emma Hayes, who has starred as a pundit at Euro 2020, has signed a new deal to remain as manager of Chelsea, the Women’s Super League champions have announced.

The 44-year-old has been with the club since 2012 and guided them to four WSL titles, two FA Cups and two League Cups. Hayes’ side were also Champions League runners-up last season.

She said on Chelsea’s official website: “Everyone knows what this club means to me.

“The work we’ve done together over the last nine years has been hugely rewarding, full of growth of the women’s game, accompanied with winning, which is one of the club’s key values. I really look forward to keep building on the successes we’ve already achieved and I’m delighted to have extended further.

Emma Hayes the manager of Chelsea Women lifts the Barclays FA Women’s Super League trophy after the Barclays FA Women’s Super League match between Chelsea Women and Reading Women at Kingsmeadow on May 09, 2021 in Kingston upon Thame – GETTY IMAGES

“It’s been a year and a half without fans, so I can’t wait to welcome them back to our home and share with them the wonderful team we’ve built together.”

Having retained the WSL trophy and the League Cup in 2020-21, Chelsea fell short of adding the Champions League as they were beaten 4-0 by Barcelona in the final in Gothenburg.

That was a first appearance in the final for the Blues – who reached the semi-finals in 2018 and 2019 – and the first by an English club since Arsenal, who had Hayes as assistant manager at the time, won the competition in 2007.

11:24 AM

Some more Premier League news…

Chelsea midfielder Billy Gilmour has joined Norwich on a season-long loan deal.

The 20-year-old impressed for Scotland in a goalless draw against England at Euro 2020 on June 18, before then having to self-isolate after returning a positive Covid-19 test.

Following his performance at Wembley it was reported that several Premier League clubs were interested in signing Gilmour on a temporary basis.

Newly-promoted Norwich have won the race for his signature and Canaries boss Daniel Farke feels Gilmour is a “perfect fit” for his Canaries team.

“We are really happy to have brought Billy in,” said Farke, who saw midfielder Emiliano Buendia leave for Aston Villa for £33million last month.

“We must say a big thank you to Chelsea and all those involved for making this deal happen. I think it helped that in the past we have shown that young players with potential are in good hands here at Norwich City.

Billy Gilmour – GETTY IMAGES

“He will help us to achieve our targets. We still have to keep in mind that he is an unbelievably young guy and that he hasn’t played regularly on this level. We have to give him some time and space to improve and find his rhythm.”

Gilmour made 11 appearances for Chelsea last season, starting three Premier League matches.

The former Rangers youth player was an unused substitute in both the FA Cup and Champions League finals as Thomas Tuchel’s side lost the domestic showpiece to Leicester but beat Manchester City to become champions of Europe.

11:10 AM

The England team Gareth Southgate should pick to defeat Ukraine

Telegraph football writers pick their XIs – and you can too, by clicking here.

We have asked our writers to pick who they would like to see face the Ukrainians, especially bearing in mind that four of the England squad are on yellow cards.

10:50 AM

How England can beat Ukraine and take another step to glory

What do we know about England’s opponents? What are their strengths and what are the areas to exploit? Who are the players to watch out for?

Telegraph Sport spoke to Ukranian football expert Andrew Todos and former Norther Ireland manager Michael O’Neill, who masterminded a win over Ukraine at Euro 2016.

You can read our big match dossier by clicking here.

Graphic depicting England and Ukraine’s star players

10:30 AM

England at full strength for Ukraine

Gareth Southgate’s 26-man squad all trained on the eve of England’s Euro 2020 quarter-final against Ukraine.

The reward for Tuesday’s 2-0 last-16 win against Germany at Wembley is Saturday’s clash against Andriy Shevchenko’s side in Rome.

The Three Lions fly to Italy on Friday afternoon and the full squad trained at their St George’s Park base that morning.

Mason Mount and Ben Chilwell were among those in action, having left isolation on the day of the Germany match after coming into contact with Chelsea team-mate Billy Gilmour, who tested positive for Covid-19 after playing for Scotland against England.

Harry Maguire, Declan Rice, Kalvin Phillips and Phil Foden are a booking away from a suspension heading into the quarter-final.

Manchester United defender Maguire, who was named man of the match on Tuesday, is set to join manager Southgate at Friday evening’s press conference in Rome.

10:23 AM

Captain Kane reporting for England training

JULY 02: Harry Kane of England trains during the England Training Session at St George’s Park on July 02, 2021 in Burton upon Trent, – GETTY IMAGES

10:08 AM

In Premier League news…

From our reporter, Mike McGrath.

09:44 AM

Achilles

No, not the Trojan war hero, but the cat that lives in St Petersburg’s Hermitage museum. He chose Spain while attempting to predict the result of tonight’s quarter-final.

Probably no need to play tonight now – the cat’s called it…

Achilles the cat, that lives in St. Petersburg’s Hermitage museum, chooses Spain while attempting to predict the result of the UEFA Euro 2020 quarter final match between Switzerland and Spain during an event in Saint Petersburg, – REUTERS

09:23 AM

De Bruyne and Hazard

Belgium boss Roberto Martinez will give Kevin De Bruyne and Eden Hazard until the last minute to prove their fitness ahead of tonight’s Euro 2020 quarter-final clash with Italy.

Manchester City star De Bruyne suffered an ankle injury during Sunday’s 1-0 win over Portugal, during which Real Madrid’s Hazard also limped off with a muscle problem, and neither was able to train with the rest of the squad on Thursday morning.

However, speaking at his pre-match press conference ahead of the game in Munich, Martinez said: “We all know that we are fighting against time, but we’re going to take until the last minute to make the decision.

“Every day that goes by, every time they can sleep and get three meals and get some treatment, we see an improvement, and then we’ll see [today] if they can be involved or not. Unfortunately at the moment, we cannot make a decision.

“Obviously it will be difficult for [today] – a soft tissue injury in Eden’s case, maybe is difficult for a game like tomorrow, and for Kevin, having a ligament problem maybe is a bit different.

“But it’s more a medical decision. At the moment, it’s not a football decision; [today]it will become a medical decision in the afternoon and then we’ll make a football decision after that.”

De Bruyne left the pitch looking dejected in Belgium’s win over Portugal – GETTY IMAGES

Martinez could do with having all his most potent weapons available for a clash with an Italian side which is unbeaten in 31 matches, while both teams are bidding to become the first to win 15 consecutive European Championship matches since the start of qualification.

09:06 AM

In case you missed it…

Neil Diamond told The Telegraph yesterday how “thrilled” he was that England fans were singing his famous ‘Sweet Caroline’ song at Wembley.

“Well, I hope you can do it again – here’s to England”, he told The Telegraph.

The 1969 song has featured in every England victory celebration at Euro 2020 and was a high point of celebrations after the team beat Germany 2 – 0 in the round of 16.

After the match, striker Harry Kane and coach Gareth Southgate both told the media how much they enjoyed hearing fans belt out the song in unison.

08:52 AM

Tournament odds

The bookies have England now as Euro 2020 favourites – even at 2/1 in some outlets.

Then come Spain (3/1) followed by Italy (4/1), with Ukraine the outside shot with bookmakers at 33/1.

08:41 AM

Magic Monday

A look-back at the day that proved internationals reach parts that the club game cannot.

As if Spain 5 Croatia 3 wasn’t enough, Switzerland and France also served up a classic on Monday night. What made it so memorable?

Read Thom Gibbs’ excellent breakdown here.

08:30 AM

RIP Charlie

08:16 AM

Predictions for this evening

Let us know in the comments below!

I’m going Spain and Italy to progress… just.

08:14 AM

Alvaro Morata

As Sam Dean writes, Alvaro Morata has scored 21 goals in 44 appearances for his country. He has won 14 major trophies in club football. He has played for four of the biggest clubs in the world and he has been transferred between them for a combined total of more than £170 million. If he finds the net against Switzerland on Friday, he will become the highest scorer in Spain’s European Championship history. Everything about his CV, and his list of accomplishments by the age of 28, suggests that Morata must be one of the continent’s elite forwards. And yet, for many people, the former Chelsea striker still seems to be regarded more as a punchline than as a top-level predator.

Read about how Morata has emerged from the darkness in a bright, dangerous Spain side.

Spain’s Alvaro Morata celebrates after scoring his side’s fourth goal during the Euro 2020 soccer championship round of 16 match between Croatia and Spain at the Parken Stadium in Copenhagen – POOL GETTY

07:59 AM

Can Switzerland do it again?

A reminder of how the Swiss got there in the first place.

They knocked out the world champions, France, on penalties, after fighting back from 3-1 down.

Refresh yourself on events in Bucharest by clicking here.

Kylian Mbappe missed the crucial penalty for France – GETTY IMAGES

07:35 AM

The Swiss are back!

Remember this bloke?

Swiss fan reacts to their victory over France

Topless and fully clothed, desperate and ecstatic: a Swiss football supporter has become a viral sensation after cameras zoomed in on his rollercoaster emotions watching his team beat France in the Euro 2020 tournament.

Found by Swiss media after images of him yelling and grimacing during Monday’s match went round the world, Luca Loutenbach has already amended his Twitter account to describe himself as the “Nati’s official meme since 28.06.2021.”

The Nati is the nickname for Switzerland’s national football team.

Loutenbach, 28, told Switzerland’s Blick TV that he was “just a normal fan”.

But those filming the game thought otherwise, zooming in on him several times during the play as he perfectly encapsulated Swiss fans’ ecstasy, dejection and frenzied joy – starting off wearing the Swiss red shirt and ending up topless and screaming.

The images quickly went viral, with London Mayor Sadiq Khan tweeting one with the comment “man of the match”.

“A star is born,” Swiss public television RTS said.

“Thanks for all your messages, what is happening to me is unreal,” he wrote Wednesday on Twitter.

“I’m actually quite discreet, even if that wasn’t on show during the game. So this is fun for one or two days, but I hope it will ease off a bit after a while,” he told Swiss TV.

Such is his fame that Switzerland’s airline Swiss has gifted him a free ticket to Russia to see his team play Spain in the quarter finals on Friday in Saint Petersburg.

The country’s tourism agency has also contacted him via Twitter to offer a relaxing weekend away in Switzerland.

07:18 AM

Good morning!

Hello and welcome to Telegraph Sport’s live coverage of the build-up to quarter-finals day, with the first two last-eight games kicking off tonight. Switzerland face Spain in St Petersburg at 5pm before Belgium take on Italy in Munich at 8pm.

England midfielder Jack Grealish said captain Harry Kane is the best player he has ever played with and tipped the Tottenham Hotspur forward to break the Premier League scoring record.

Kane drew a blank in each of England’s three group games at Euro 2020 but scored the second goal in Tuesday’s 2-0 win over Germany which put them into a quarter-final clash with Ukraine in Rome on Saturday.

Grealish said Kane, or “H”, was a deadly finisher but also praised his work outside the box.

“No one here would ever doubt ‘H’,” Grealish told British media on Thursday. “He’s the best player I’ve ever played with.

“He’ll break the Premier League record and the England one but he’s not just a goalscorer. He’s unbelievable when he drops deep and finds passes and puts it through people’s legs.”

Alan Shearer is the Premier League’s all-time leading scorer with 260. Kane is seventh on the list with 166.

Grealish came off the bench to play a role in both goals in the win over Germany but the 25-year-old said he was uncertain if he would start against Ukraine, given the attacking options at coach Gareth Southgate’s disposal.

“It’s difficult. I’m always playing every minute at Villa. I have to be realistic about myself and the talent that we have, especially in my position,” he said.

“You’ve got six players that play either side of Harry that, in reality, could play for most clubs in the world — myself, Jadon (Sancho), Marcus (Rashford), Raheem (Sterling), Phil (Foden) and Bukayo (Saka),” he said.

“That’s scary how good us six are. That’s not being big-headed. That’s just the truth.”

Reuters

Source link

2 notes · View notes

that-ideal-idea · 4 years ago

Text

Oh Noel (Trigger Warning)

Note: this is inspired by iDKHBTFM's (I Don't Know How But They Found Me) "Oh Noel". I'm having the feels tonight and I just want to write a short story about it.

Here's a link for it by the way, for those who doesn't know about them, Oh Noel by iDKHBTFM

(Btw, the italics are the letter, the Bold and italics are the lyrics, the bold letters are the news reporter, and the normal font is the main pov)

Hasn't every little Christmas wish been sent? Have sugarplums been dancing in your head?

"To My Dearest Noel"

Perhaps it was the chill of the night that caused the goosebumps on his skin. Maybe it was the snow, that caused his nose to clog up and his face to turn pink. How he wish that it was the season that he can blame for this cold feeling that he's having at this moment. This wishful thinking, that he hope will change places with the truth that is layed out in front of him - that did nothing but to make him remember more - but alas, it will not be the case.

I hope the holiday will find you well Oh, Noel Oh, Noel

My love, I cannot express to you how ecstatic I am when you told me last year that you're being relocated to your company's branch there. You can't believe how happy I'am that you can finally achieve the things that you want even form the start.

A smile fought its way to his face. He remembered the time when he told you that he's going to be transfered to a new branch of their company as its new and first President, and how you told him that his hardwork had finally payed off.

I met you in December '93 Noel been staying up the block

Remember when we celebrated it up until the other day. Our heads were like splitting in half that time. I remember you, almost tripping outside our front door because of excitement. We laughed and laughed and enjoyed ourselves that night, and I fell in love with you much more.

He smiled and smiled until his cheeks are hurting. For, of course, he remembers that time. Where they both lost themselves in each other's arms. How they kissed each other under the street lamp while walking towards a pub. How they whispered to each other, contently, while the upcoming winter chill started to seep through their bones. Still, they held each other's gazes without the care in the world. How he wish that he can go back to that time again.

Do you remember the time after that?

Of course, how could he not? That month was the happiest month of his life. How could he forget about it when he felt as if he traveled to the moon and back when you told him the news, weeks prior to his departure?

With her mother's family For two straight weeks, we ran through snow

When I told you that you're gonna be a father in nine months? We we're in cloud nine that time that you can't even stop giving me your glorious kisses and that comforting hug of yours. If I thought that I couldn't love you more, then i was an idiot, because that time I know that we will be together till the end.

He was ready to give up his company's offer that time, but you slapped his head and told him that he needed to go. That he can come back in a month or two to check up on the both of you, saying that its not even that risky because your pregnancy just started. Oh how he insisted so hard that you made him sleep on the couch. Now, he wish that he insisted more 'cause he would prefer to sleep there even for a year, than to be in this situation.

And do you remember the time after that?

And kissed beneath the mistletoe And swore our love in secret company

This made the man scoff, of course, how could he forget? The way how the both of you broke down in your hospital bed for god knows how long. He just got home for a three day leave before it happened. How the both of you grew hysterical when you both saw and felt the blood in the bed. How could he forget the way he saw your eyes lose its natural shine while you're staring at your own blood. How the he saw you breaking down in front of him while he's carrying you downstairs and into the car.How could he forget?

I was so lost that time. So, so lost. I let both of us down. I feel as if something was ripped inside me. As if I lost a part of me that I haven't even met yet. It hurts so much. I could remember it as if it happened yesterday. I can't even express what I feel and still feel right now. I just can't help but to hate myself when I realised that I've selfishly took every opportunity that you have when I heard you decline them in the phone, just for this mess. Just for me.

Hasn't every little Christmas card been sent? Has every child been tucked into their bed?

"...Why?" the man asked helplessly. As if he awaits a response that will never come.

So I decided to persuade you that I'm fine, that you should go back to your work. Of course you told me that you can't, but then again, I wouldn't be called your wife if I don't know how to handle you, right?

The man chuckled. "But of course." He thought, and that's why after a week of preparations, you're already saying your goodbyes to him in the airport. Only if he didn't let himself be persuaded by you. How he hoped that he grew suspicious that he suddenly recieved an actual letter in paper from you, just two months afer his departure. But then again, you told him that you just wanted to do it because you love him, and he trusts you in that.

It was perhaps, ingenious of me, to think about this kind of ploy. But can you blame me, my love? I wouldn't want you to see my tears or to hear my sobs and whimpers in a call. I wouldn't want to impose and worry you much more. So I wrote to you instead. Even if the letter arrives just every other day or so, at least it buys me time. Time to be alone. Time to wallow in pitty and sadness, before it's time to reply to you again. I mean, what am I even thinking right now, confessing to my sins and making this much harder for you?

"No please, god no. Please...just...keep writing, my love."

I'm hoping that this song will find you well Oh, Noel Oh, Noel

My love, when you recieve this letter...do not fret for I will still be proud of you. I will still be in love with you. I just hope that you will forgive me, because I know I can't. I know that I'm being selfish right now, but please don't be mad...

The wind howled on the other side of the window, the embers in the fireplace are starting to dwindle down almost to nothing, but he ignored all that. However, the open telivision in the background is the one that he can't block out, no matter how hard he tried. He didn't know what made him open it up and turn it in to a channel that shows the late night news reports. How he wished he didn't.

I hope that the thing that I'm gonna do will not dampen this year's holidays. Although, I know my wishing of that will be futile. My love, I am sorry for not being there with you in the upcoming celebrations...

A decade passed, and letters all but died Ten years that saw her folks divorced "On tonight's breaking news..."

...I's sorry for lying to you, that I am fine...

"...A woman was found just an hour ago..." And best friend's suicide I'd see her on occasion, looking pale and petrified I'd wave, but she would only turn and cry

...I'm sorry for failing the both of us in making a family of our own...

"...In a motel located in Freeport, Maine..."

If you're reading this letter, I hope that you wouldn't be upset to me, and especially to yourself.

"...The sight that the authorities and staff saw was very disheartening, the woman was found lying in the room's bathroom in the pool of her own blood. The police informed us that they are currently contacting the dead woman's family..." The embers in the fireplace are dead

As if to mock him more, a ringing of a phone can be heard around the room from somewhere around the living area that he's in. A sob escaped the mans mouth, no longer being able to contain the pain that he can feel. The contracting of his chest was too much, even for him.

Know that I love you and I always will, even if I'm not there to tell you that in person anymore. I'm sorry my love...

Maybe it was the upcoming winter. Maybe it was just meant to be gloomy because of the harshness of the chill in the air. Maybe it was the sobs of a broken man echoing around the place. Maybe it was the still ringing phone or the emptiness that the man can feel. Maybe it was the news in the background or the way how the man lost that particular shine in his eyes, just like what he'd witnessed before.

The late night news reports are being read

I hope that you can forgive me, Noel. I hope that someday you will be happy. I love you. I'm sorry. Your love, Emelia

They found you in some dirty, cheap motel

...or maybe, Just maybe... he can blame the lack of warmth coming form the fireplace, for the goosebumps that he's sporting, and for the emptiness that he's feeling right now... just this once...just this once.

But, oh, well Oh, well Noel

Please if you're feeling suicidal seek help and talk to someone National Suicide Prevention Website and International Suicide Prevention Lifeline

#freewritting #short story #angst #christmas #idkhbtfm #sad holidays #trigger waring

8 notes · View notes

darkwebsite · 4 years ago

Text

Dark web Sites

Recollecting the 1970s, "darknet" was obviously not a premonition term: it essentially construed networks that were disengaged from the norm of ARPANET for security purposes. Regardless, as ARPANET changed into the web and some time later ate up basically the wide degree of different PC networks out there, the word came to see zones that were associated with the web regardless not actually of it, difficult to find if you didn't have a guide.

The recommended dark web, a catch-all articulation covering the bits of the web not coordinated through web records, is the stuff of dreadful legend. Regardless, as most legends, the truth is really more common. Saying this doesn't suggest that that astonishing stuff isn't open on dark web websites, regardless a hint of the mumbled alarming stories you might've heard don't make up an enormous bit of the trades there.

Related investigating:

The state of the dark web site Insights from the underground

What is the dark web? The best procedure to get to it and what you'll find

Is your data being sold on the dark web?

Dark web takedowns stand isolated as really newsworthy, do little for security

Yield the dark web for threat understanding

We watched out for some security virtuosos who offered to give us truly a guided visit through the web's lower zones. Preferably it will demystify things a piece.

Here are ten things you most likely will not consider the dark web.

New dark web sites spring up reliably...

A 2015 white paper from threat information firm Recorded Future dismantles the linkages between the Web you know and the darknet. The manners in which all around beginning on sites like Pastebin, from the start expected as a reasonable spot to move long code tests or other substance however at this point consistently where interfaces with the dark Tor network are saved a couple of days or hours for contributed people.

While searching for dark web sites isn't just likely as essential as using Google—the truth is to be genuinely secretive, considering—there are ways to deal with oversee find what's there. The screen get under was given by Radware security expert Daniel Smith, and he says it's the inevitable result of "revamp substance that go out there and find new URLs, new onions, constantly, and a short period of time later show them. It resembles Geocities, yet 2018"— a vibe that is helped along by pages with names like "My Deepweb Site," which you can see on the screen get.

new onions

Daniel Smith

...additionally, many are totally authentic

Matt Wilson, chief information security oversee at BTB Security, says that "there is a delightful/fragile side to the dark web that would no doubt stun a colossal number individuals. You can exchange some cooking plans—with video!— send email, or read a book. People use the dark web for these liberal things for a strategy of reasons: an impression of neighborhood, a basic parcel from insight or following of web propensities, or just to achieve something in a substitute way."

Proposed WHITEPAPERS

Steady Delivery of Business Value with DataOps

Customer Operations for Dummies, ServiceNow Special Edition

Ransomware Data Challenges in Digital and Analytics-Driven Organizations

It legitimizes recalling that what blossoms with darknet is material that has been denied elsewhere on the web. For example, in 2015, in the wake of the Chinese government halting any silliness about VPN relationship through the predefined "mind blowing firewall," Chinese-language discussions finished jumping up on the darknet — for the most part flooding with people who fundamentally expected to visit with each other in arrangement.

Radware's Smith raises that there are a get-together of media sources on the dark web, going from the news website from the hacking pack Anonymous to the New York Times, showed up in the screen arrive, all obliging people in countries that control the open web.

nytimes

Daniel Smith

A few spaces are by welcome in a manner of speaking

Clearly, not everything is so impeccable, or you wouldn't try to research this article. Regardless, "you can't just firing up your Tor program and arrangements 10,000 Mastercard records, or passwords to your neighbor's webcam," says Mukul Kumar, CISO and VP of Cyber Practice at Cavirin. "By far most of the demanded 'fragile' data is essentially available to those that have been checked or welcome to communicate social gatherings."

How could you secure a greeting into such dark web sites? "They should see history of horrible lead," says Radware's Smith. "Essentially doubtlessly a mafia trust test. They need you to show that you're not a readied capable and you're not law fundamental. Essentially, a tremendous stack of those tests will be something that a subject expert or law support legally can't do."

There is horrible stuff, and crackdowns prescribes it's harder to trust

In actuality as a year back, various dark web business networks for drugs and hacking affiliations included corporate-level customer help and customer reviews, making investigating less awkward however rather more secure for youngsters. Regardless, since law execution has begun to make a move against such sites, the experience is more wrecked and more unsafe.

"The whole viewed as this darknet business focus, where you have an associate review, where people can overview quiets that they're buying from carriers and get up on a conversation and say, 'In reality, this is genuine' or 'No, this truly hurt me'— that has been lessened since dark business places have been taken separated," says Radware's Smith. "You're seeing aloof carriers open up their own shops, which are essentially hard to vet yourself over the long haul. There will not be any assessments, there's not a huge stack of escrow affiliations. Additionally, thus, by these takedowns, they've really started up a business opportunity for additional stunts to jump up."

Reviews can not be correct, things sold under movements—and a ton is on the line

There are still sites where drugs are investigated, says Radware's Smith, yet recollect that they should be taken with a colossal grain of salt. A reporter may get a high from something they bought on the web, yet not handle what the cure was that given it.

One clarification such blunders are made? Distinctive dark web drug makers will in like manner purchase pill presses and shadings, which retail a few hundred dollars and can make hazardous clone drugs. "One of the later alerts that I could recommend would be Red Devil Xanax," he said. "These were sold as some super Xanax bars, as a last resort, they were essentially shocking prescriptions expected to hurt you."

The dark web gives markdown things to extraordinary neighborhood retailers...

Smith says that some customary medicine cartels use the dark web networks for dispersing—"it takes out the middle individual and licenses the cartels to send from their own stockrooms and course it if they need to"— yet unassuming heads can in like way give the individual touch at the close by level coming to fruition to buying drug planned substances markdown from China or elsewhere from sites like the one in the screen arrive. "You know how there are stores of neighborhood IPA microbreweries?" he says. "We in like manner have an enormous pile of close by scaled down labs. In every city, there's reasonable in any occasion one juvenile that is gotten sharp and perceives how to design drugs on the darknet, and make an unassuming proportion of remedies to offer to his close by association."

xanax

Daniel Smith

...who use the gig economy

Smith portrays how the darknet gets together with the unregulated and scattered universe of the gig economy to help stream stash. "We should expect I need to have something purchased from the darknet dispatched to me," he says. "I'm not going uncover my affirmed zone, isn't that so? I would have something along those lines dispatched to an AirBnB—a region that can be disposed of, a burner. The case gives off an impression of being the day they rent it, by then they put the thing in a Uber and send it to another area. It ends up being amazingly hard for law need to follow, especially in the event that you're going across different districts."

Not everything is available to be bought on the dark web

We've contributed a tremendous stack of energy breaking down medications here which is as it ought to be. Smith calls sedatives "the confirmed establishment" of the dark web; "cybercrime—selling endeavors and lacks, web application attacks—that is the mechanized establishment. Generally, I'd say a greater piece of the darknet is in all honesty drugs and kids examining little infringement on gatherings."

A part of the really terrifying sounding stuff you find a few solutions concerning being accessible to be bought routinely winds up being all around gossipy treats. Take weapons, for instance: as Smith puts it, "it would be less flighty for a criminal to purchase a gun, considering, versus the web. Going to the darknet is adding an extra improvement that isn't basic all the while. Absolutely when you're directing certified punks, they will remember someone that is selling a weapon."

Unequivocal strengths are in

Regardless, there are some obvious darknet solid point propels out there, whether or not they don't have the very impression that sedatives does. One that Smith made me notice was the universe of skimmers, contraptions that fit into the openings of guaranteed credit and ATM card perusers and get your record data.

Besides, giving another outline of how the darknet marries genuine articles open to be bought with data accessible to be bought, relative sites comp

1 note · View note

juniperwindsong · 5 years ago

Text

Necessary Monsters (6/16)

A/N: Well, as of recent game updates, my story is now AU. I considered rewriting this chapter, and I do reserve the right to go back and change it later to keep to canon. But for now, I'd like this chapter to stand in memory of a character that had no business dying (looking at you, JC).

Summary: "I need a favor." "You what?" "Don't be a prick." "Oh, off to a champion start, you are."

The only thing worse than an alarm clock is an enchanted alarm clock. Felix is sure the squat, tin object takes malicious pleasure in stabbing him to consciousness with its incessant brrrring. He groans and slaps a hand in the direction of the trunk currently serving as a bedside table, but the clock dances away from Felix's outstretched fingers, its shrill ring sounding suspiciously like laughter. Groping about in the dark for his wand, Felix waves it at the clock, now doing an ungainly jig beside the bed, and it falls forward onto its flat face in disgruntled silence.

Stumbling to the wardrobe, Felix pulls out shirt, jumper, and trousers without looking, then stares about him in the darkness for his boots. The outline of one peeks from under the foot of his camp bed, and he trips over the other on his way toward it. Sprawled across the floor, all sense of urgency knocked from him, Felix fumbles for the treacherous shoes and tugs them on with heavy fingers. He reminds himself he's only 22, which is far too young to be this ornery about his turn at night-shift. He knows the one week a month of reversed sleep cycle, and the impish alarm clock that comes with it, aren't the real reason his nerves are on tenterhooks. But they certainly don't help.

Still spread-eagle on the cold, rough wood, Felix allows his eyes to fall closed as he sends up a silent prayer to whatever entity is responsible for managing his cosmic affairs: Please, please let it come today, he thinks, over and over again, until sleep begins to trickle back through his veins.

As the breathing of its current master deepens and slows, the alarm clock rights itself and toddles across the floor towards his ear. It rubs its hands together in undisguised glee.

The Romanian Reserve is not at all what Felix had expected. It reminds him of what he always imagined work in an office would be like: shifts and staff meetings and performance reviews. In Peru, Felix's schedule was set by the sun or the activity of the dragons he tracked. Here, he flicks his wand over a time card in the main building and marches past the hall of tiny rooms to the cramped office where the equipment is stored, and which he has to share with the Senior Dragonologist for the Peruvian Vipertooth.

Luis Rashbold takes up almost the entire closet-sized room. Leaning back in the only chair with his feet propped on the small desk, both pieces of furniture creaking in distress, he dictates his report to a typewriter clicking away on its own. He's only a decade older than Felix, but full of the self-assurance that comes with being one of the youngest researchers to achieve a senior position.

Felix reaches across the desk and snatches the paper from the typewriter, glancing over the events of the day.

"Any change?" he asks Rashbold without looking up from the parchment.

"None. That she-dragon of yours is still hell-bent on getting to Alicanto before the mating season ends. But it shouldn’t last much longer. The summer's half gone."

Sharp pangs constrict Felix's chest at the reminder, but he breathes through them.

"The rotation started over today, didn't it? Who do we have this month?"

Rashbold flicks his dark ponytail back over his shoulder. "Lambton. And do try and go easy on the lad, the healer quit this morning. "

"You're joking. He hasn't been here a fortnight!"

"I've known shorter," Rashbold shrugs unconcernedly.

"And the one before that only got here a few weeks before I did." Felix steps around the desk, carefully avoiding Rashbold's dirt-crusted shoes. "Is the job jinxed or something?" he asks as he lifts the fireproof gauntlets and chest-plate from their hooks on the wall, eyeing the sweat stains on the inside of the equipment with distaste.

"Doubt it," replies Rashbold, sliding another piece of paper into the typewriter. "Most people just aren't cut out for dragons." He catches Felix muttering a cleaning spell under his breath and shakes his head.

Felix pulls the chest-plate over his jumper, glancing at the papers scattered across the desk.

"Did the post come yet?" he asks with a practiced nonchalance that does not fool the older man one bit. Rashbold cracks a wicked grin.

"Sorry, nothing from your secret admirer. What's it been, a fortnight now?" As always, heat rises in Felix's face unbidden, and Rashbold's grin becomes a laugh. "Too bad you didn't pick the Fireball, mate. Your face would make excellent camouflage."

Felix stomps from the room, cheeks still bright red. Rashbold's infuriating laughter follows him down the hall.

Disappointment begins its natural evolution into bitter anger as Felix strides quickly out of the building's backdoor and down the gravel path. He wastes a few minutes wishing apparition was permitted on the Reserve. It's only a twenty minute walk to the Vipertooths' habitat, which is practically nothing; it takes the Horntail dragonologists an hour to get to their plot, housed at the very back of the Reserve. But work is the only thing keeping Felix sane just at present. Each minute of silent walking is a minute he cannot stop his brain sliding into anxious thoughts about what might be happening to Juniper so many miles away.

When Felix first arrived, Juniper's letters, while abysmally short, had at least been consistent. No longer half a world apart, Felix received her owls almost every other day, a privilege he had been denied for many years and did not take for granted. He could tell by her wobbly and often unintelligible penmanship, Juniper's hands had not yet improved enough to make writing an easy task. Nor had her attempts to charm her quill into writing for her been successful either, she explained in her first letter, since she couldn't hold her wand steady enough to cast anything. But after being discharged from St Mungo's and purchasing a quill that took dictation from Flourish and Blotts, her letters were once again full of news: How she had been excused from end-of-year exams; how she still had no memory of her attack or attackers; how Dumbledore had insisted she spend the summer at the Khanna tree farm, an out of the way country house with many magical protections surrounding it.

Felix got the distinct impression from her letters that Juniper was frustrated with the decisions being made for her. She had been expressly forbidden from leaving the Khanna property, except for regular visits to St Mungo's, and Dumbledore and the auror, Moody, checked in on her frequently. But Juniper offered no further information about her protection detail or her recovery. As always, she kept her letters to questions and comments about Felix's new life in Romania, though even those seemed more careless with each owl. Then the frequency of her letters dipped. By the end of July, they had stopped coming at all.

Worry now keeps Felix in a constant state of nerves. He's sure someone would have contacted him if something had happened to Juniper; another attack or a sudden relapse. He remembers Snape's warning about uncharacteristic behavior, and more than once has sat down at his desk with the intention of consulting the Slytherin Head of House. But he isn't sure if a mere lack of correspondence qualifies as unusual, particularly in light of her condition. It's entirely possible Juniper is simply too busy, with her recovery and her other friends, to keep up with their new fast-paced writing schedule. Still, the vacuum of silence he's left in without her letters makes him edgier with each passing day.

Work is the only relief Felix has from the continual parade of worries and what-ifs. And today's arrival of the new junior assistant, a position that rotates between different species on a monthly basis, ensures Felix has no extra brain space to think of anything except keeping the nervous young man alive and relatively unhurt.

Ten hours later, dripping with sweat, dirt, and blood, Felix trudges slowly back across the Reserve just as the sun peeks over the horizon. Pulling off his gauntlets and stretching his sore muscles, he waits for the ever-present torment to reassert itself. The desperation to hear from Juniper, even just a few quick lines to know she's alright and hasn't forgotten him, is a physical ache nothing will soothe. Two weeks is long enough to be objectively concerned, he decides. The time has come to send an inquiry.

Debating which of her many friends to write to, Felix is startled to hear his name being called from somewhere ahead of him. He focuses on the figure in the foreground: a tall, muscular man, though that describes most of the dragonologists here, but with the addition of a cowboy hat, which can only mean one person.

"Hey there, Rosier!"

"Grahame," Felix inclines his head wearily at the Reserve's resident American, who trots toward him with an irrepressible grin.

"I got - shit, you're a mess!" the dark man exclaims cheerfully, as he looks Felix up and down.

"May I help you?" Felix replies, trying to keep irritation from his voice. The American is a junior dragonologist as well, though several years older. Felix doesn’t usually mind the man’s company, but he isn't in the mood for conversation just now. Fortunately, Grahame appears to be in his usual hurry. He thrusts something at Felix as he passes.

"Rashbold asked me to hand that to you on my way. Said you'd want it asap!"

Felix looks down at the object Grahame is pressing into his hands. It's an envelope.

"I - yes. Thank you." He tries to sound aloof, but can't keep excitement from slipping out around his hasty words.

“No worries," Grahame assures him, walking backward to keep sight of Felix. "Catch you later at the pub?" The American pronounces the final word with a fake accent and wry chuckle, but Felix doesn't notice. His entire attention is given over to the envelope in his hands.

The name on the back isn't written in Juniper's writing. Felix isn't positive, but he thinks he recognises the small, cramped script of Rowan Khanna. The morning feels suddenly chill. Fingers trembling, Felix unseals the envelope and pulls out a small slip of parchment. He reads the half-dozen lines once, and then again. Then he starts to run.

"Rashbold!"

"Rosier?"

The Senior Dragonologist looks up from behind the desk, taking in Felix's breathless state in mild curiousity. Felix props an arm against the doorjamb, clutching a stitch in his side.

"I need...a favor," he gasps.

Rashbold guffaws. "You what?"

"Don't be a prick," Felix growls as best he can while still panting.

"Oh, off to a champion start, you are," the larger man chuckles. He falls back against the chair, which squeaks in protest, and kicks his boots up onto the desk. He tries to fold his beefy arms casually behind his head, but the office is so small he smashes his elbow against the wall.

"What could I possibly do for you, Rosier? Never been to Peru, have I? Never chased a dragon across mountains and through forests for weeks without sleep. Don't see how I could possibly help someone such as yourself who's so much more experienced, so-"

Felix can't even feel indignant as he interjects, "This isn't a work favor. It's - personal."

Rashbold's sarcastic smile slips a little. He notices the frantic look in Felix's eye and the parchment crumpled in his hand and asks, more seriously, "What's wrong, then?"

"Something's come up. Back in England, and - I need to take a bit of leave."

Rashbold lets out another raucous laugh, this one incredulous. "What? You can't! You just got here. You're not eligible for six months at least, and even then you know Guivré hardly ever approves-"

"I know!" Felix interrupts, "That's why I need you to cover for me."

"For how long?"

"I'm not sure." Felix runs a hand through his hair in distraction. "A few days, maybe."

Rashbold shakes his head. "Nothing doing, mate. I'm jiggered as it is, I can't pull double shifts that long. I've not got enough wide-eye potion left."

"Please!" Felix's abject pleading shocks both himself and the older man. "Please. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent."

Rashbold looks Felix up and down, then shakes his head again, his expression now apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Rosier. But Stella's on me about my hours as it is. If I try to pull something like this, I'll wind up in divorce."

The larger man shifts his gaze to the desk, lifting papers about at random, unwilling to look Felix in the eye.

Felix takes a heavy breath. "Fine." He tosses the gauntlets and vest in the general direction of the wall.

"Hold on." Rashbold stands in alarm. "You're not still going, are you?"

"I have to."

"But, Guivré will fire you if he finds you've gone without leave! I know you're still a bit new here, but you should know what he's like by now."

"I don't have a choice." And Felix is surprised to find his voice even and calm. It's a career-ending decision he's about to make, but somehow, he's entirely removed from any anxiety about it. It's the same feeling of clarity and focus he's used to experiencing in the wild, when circumstance demands immediate action without the luxury of second-guessing.

Rashbold crosses his arms. "Is this about your mysterious letter writer?"

Felix considers a lie, a family crisis would probably garner more sympathy, but his habitual blush betrays him.

"Yes."

Rashbold snorts. "You're seriously going to throw away your position for some girl? That won't even write?"

The heat in Felix's face becomes irritation.

"No. I mean, yes, I am, but she's not some girl. I mean, she is a girl, but..." He struggles to find words to describe everything between him and Juniper to this man who doesn't know either of them and whose business it really isn't anyway. "She's more than just a girl. She's - she's important."

"More important than your job?" Rashbold fixes the junior dragonologist with a shrewdly calculating stare that Felix hadn't considered the other man capable of. Felix holds his gaze steadily, and nods just once.

There's a short silence while Rashbold considers. Finally, the older man heaves himself back into the groaning chair in resignation.

"Alright, look. I can cover you for the week-end. I'll say you got a bad bite and are taking the cure." He points a large finger at Felix. "But if you're not back by Monday, you're on your own, alright?"

Felix's knees almost buckle with relief.

"Thank you, Rashbold," he manages, but the other man waves his words away with a massive hand.

"Don't thank me, just don't make me sorry."

The Khanna tree farm is as picturesque as a Christmas card in the mid-morning light, but Felix isn't in the mood to appreciate the scenery. Security measures have prevented apparition around the property for a league in every direction, so for the second time that day, Felix is forced to race on foot through the grounds. He pelts up the walk to the main building, and bangs on the door with his fist.

It's barely a minute, though it feels like an age to Felix, before the door opens and Rowan Khanna stares eagerly out, face falling slightly when she recognises him.

"Oh. Felix. I thought, maybe you were-"

"What's going on? Where's Juniper? What's happened?" he interjects in a breathless rush. Rowan's dark cheeks turn suddenly fuschia.

"Oh. Um...well, it's sort of complicated."

"What do you mean? Your letter said Juniper needed help."

Rowan stutters wordlessly, shifting her weight between her feet, face still unusually coloured, and Felix's frayed nerves snap.

"Khanna, I've left my job without leave to be here! Tell me what's going on. Now!"

The door opens farther and Felix is surprised to see Penny Haywood standing behind Rowan, expressive face full of worry.

"Are you here about Juniper?"

Felix rolls his eyes hugely. "Yes!"

The blonde girl tugs Rowan aside by the sleeve, allowing Felix to step over the threshold.

"That's good. We need all the help we can get."

A few silent minutes later, Penny is brewing tea while Rowan and Felix sit at the kitchen's wooden farm table. Rowan stares nervously down at her hands, picking at splinters in the wood. Felix takes several deep, steadying breaths, trying to keep his temper under control. If Juniper were in immediate danger, they would surely have taken him to her. But if she isn't, Khanna is going to receive an earful for putting him through all this.

"Where is Juniper?" Felix asks, with what he considers impressive calm.

"She's...not here," Rowan admits, and silent tears spill from her eyes before she can stop them. She wipes them with the back of her sleeve, knocking her glasses askew, and Felix digs his nails into his palm to stifle his panic. He calls up his old prefect skills and speaks as soothingly as he can.

"Khanna, just...calm down, and tell me what's-"

"She's alright," Penny says, turning from the heating kettle to face the table. She's mercifully tear-free, but looks concerned enough to contradict her statement. "She's not...not been attacked again or anything like that. It's - " she sighs deeply. "It's hard to explain.'

Felix closes his eyes in a quick plea for patience. "Please, try."

Penny leans back against the cooker.

"When was the last time you heard from Juniper?"

"Why?" asks Felix suspiciously.

"Because I need to know how much you don't know."

"It's been...two weeks," he admits. "but before that she wasn't saying much about what's been happening to her."

Penny hugs her arms about herself, taking a moment to gather her thoughts, while Felix drums his fingers against the tabletop in agitation.

"Okay. You know Dumbledore made her come stay here for the summer, right?"

Felix nods.

"Well, the thing is...at hospital, she seemed alright. Normal, you know? She was making plans for the summer and next term, like she always does. Even the healer said she was recovering better than expected. But...once she got here, she...changed. We thought she might just be ill or something. She was..." Penny glances toward the ceiling, presumably searching there for the right words. "Subdued, I guess. She wasn't eating, said nothing tasted of anything. And she couldn't sleep. Or wouldn't."

"What do you mean?" Felix interrupts.

"She started having these awful nightmares," says Rowan in a quiet voice. "She'd wake up screaming, didn't - didn't know where she was. It was...scary-" She sniffs, but manages to keep herself from tears. "So, she sort of stopped sleeping. At night anyway. She'd kip a bit during the day, but she'd stay up all night just - just sort of pacing and stuff. It was weird. And then she started - started..." Rowan's lip quivers violently and Penny steps in.

"She started acting, well, really kind of nasty. Snapping at Rowan, and just...really irritable all the time. I've been here a good bit, so I saw it too. It reminded me of Beatrice last summer, you know after being trapped all year. Just...not like herself at all."

Alarm bells go off in Felix's head.

"Did you tell anyone?" he asks. "Her healers or Dumbledore?"

Penny looks down, uncomfortably. "I thought it would get better. Juniper's a lot stronger than Beatrice. Stronger than anyone. You know what I mean, stuff doesn't really get to her like other people."

"I mentioned it once to Healer Early when she was here," Rowan interjects, "but she said there wasn't anything she could do. Something about how magic can't heal the mind and Juniper would just have to...get over it, somehow."

Felix frowns at this.

"I thought Juniper was visiting St Mungo's a few times a week? Why's the healer coming here?"

Rowan and Penny exchange significant glances.

"Did...did Juniper not mention?" Penny asks cautiously.

"Mention what?"

The kettle behind Penny whistles and she turns hurriedly to prepare cups, leaving Rowan to explain.

"When she took the floo to hospital, she'd have these awful sort of attacks. Like, doubled over in pain. For a really long time. And it made her hands worse." Rowan looks down at her own hands lying limp on the table, reciting her words blandly as if they were lines from a textbook. "The healer said the damage to her nerves from the Cruciatus Curse was pretty bad. And that can make magical transportation hard on the body."

Felix raises his eyebrows. "So...Juniper's not supposed to use the Floo network anymore?"

"Or apparate," Penny adds softly without turning around. "She didn't get to take the test with the rest of us."

Penny pours hot water into three cups, and sends them floating across to the table with her wand. Seating herself between Felix and Rowan, she makes a production of adding milk and sugar to her cup, stirring for longer than strictly necessary. Rowan purses her lips around the rim of her tea cup without waiting for it to cool, the steam fogging her glasses. For several minutes, the only sounds are the chink of porcelain and the gentle sipping of scalding liquid.

"Is this...permanent?" Felix manages eventually.

Rowan's cup clatters as she drops it back onto the saucer. She shakes her head violently from side to side.

"No! The healer said it should get better! That she might even be able to take the test next summer! It - It really wasn't...that big of a deal."

But Felix doubts Rowan's dubious tone convinces even herself. Juniper has always been accustomed to quickly mastering spells far beyond her year. And apparition is considered a rite of passage. He can only imagine just how "big a deal" being unable to apparate would be to Juniper.

"After that," Penny continues, still swirling her spoon through her tea. "Everything just got so much worse. I've - I've never seen Juniper so unhappy."

She trails away, staring miserably down into her cup. Felix waits as patiently as he can with his heart racing like a locomotive, but neither girl seems about to continue the story.

"So, does that mean Juniper's back at St Mungo's, then?"

Rowan busies herself cleaning the fog from her glasses, looking anywhere but at Felix.

"No," admits Penny. "See...we thought that maybe it would cheer her up to see her friends, since she's not supposed to go anywhere. So we invited them to come. We had everyone visit in shifts. You know, Barnaby and Andre one week, then Bill and Charlie. And then," Penny's chest heaves with her steadying breath. "Tonks and Tulip. They came up a couple of weeks ago, and they thought Juniper...needed to get out a bit."

Felix almost knocks over his still-full cup of tea. "But Dumbledore said she wasn't to leave the farm!"

"I know," Rowan moans, covering her face with her hands. "I tried to tell her. I knew she'd get into so much trouble if they found out, Dumbledore and Snape and that auror. But, you know what she's like."

"And Tonks and Tulip don't set any store by rules either," Penny adds in disapproval.

"But - but," Felix splutters, "where would they even go? If Juniper can't apparate-"

"Tonks has a muggle motor," explains Penny glumly. "Her dad taught her to use it. So, they all went into the city one night."

Felix struggles to keep his frustration at the two students in check. He's only four years their senior, but they suddenly seem ridiculously young to be watching out for Juniper by themselves.

"To be fair," offers Rowan timidly. "Juniper did seem a bit more herself when she got back. Or at least, she was talking again, laughing, you know?" She lowers her head to her teacup, slurping loudly.

"And I guess that encouraged Tulip and Tonks," says Penny, now fiddling with her tea spoon. "So when they left they...they sort of took Juniper with them."

"What? Where?" barks Felix in alarm.

"London," Penny and Rowan say simultaneously.

"London," Felix repeats. "So, it's taken you the better part of an hour to tell me that Juniper's run away to London?"

Both girls look uncomfortably at the table. Rowan's lip quivers violently again, but Felix's mounting frustration smothers the part of him that cares about such things.

"Surely, you wrote to me as an afterthought." Felix's voice trembles with poorly suppressed fury. "Presumably, two of the smartest witches of their year would know to contact Dumbledore immediately. Or Healer Early. Or that auror. Someone in the same country and able to ensure Juniper's safety in a timely fashion."

By the end, Felix's words are a venomous snarl, and Rowan begins to sob again. Penny looks from her to Felix, eyes pleading.

"Juniper didn't want anyone to know! She made Rowan promise not to tell anyone at the school. She - she wasn't very nice about it, either."

"And-and-and I didn't w-want her to get into trouble," wails Rowan.

Rising from her chair, Penny puts her arms around the other girl's shaking shoulders.

"We were afraid if we told Dumbledore or anyone else, Juniper might be expelled. And Rowan didn't want to break her promise," explains Penny in a soothing voice, stroking Rowan's hair. "Barnaby was the one who suggested we write to you, because...Juniper never said we couldn't tell anyone, just not anyone at the school. And you and Juniper write and she looks up to you. We thought she might listen to you if you told her to come back."

Felix is unsure whether this is true or just flattery designed to quench his anger, but either way it has the desired effect. His whole body relaxes as worry and concern take a backseat to a newly re-kindled hope growing rapidly into excitement. Perhaps this is the opportunity he's been waiting for: a chance to help Juniper when she needs it most. This isn't the monster he'd always imagined saving her from, but it could do in a pinch.

For a few minutes, Felix indulges in a half-plan, half-fantasy of knocking on Juniper's door in London, reveling in the look of shock and awe that crosses her face upon seeing him before she throws herself into his arms, just like at the Quidditch match. Well, perhaps with a few more tears, only natural given what she's been through. But all the horror is sure to melt away as he holds her, murmuring comfort against her hair, until she turns her face to his, eyes full of appreciation and something else he's only ever imagined...

Felix pushes back from the table decisively.

"Where in London?"

Chapter 7 | Masterpost

17 notes · View notes

thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 5 years ago

Note

Animorphs in Zombie Apocalypse AU?

• It’s been seven years since the end of the war. Three years since the Animorphs — all six of them — stumbled off of the Rachel on its return, over two dozen ex-yeerk-hosts in tow. It’s beginning to feel like this peace might last.

• Rachel’s in the middle of a business lunch when the call comes in. Her line of fragrances (“Animal Essence by Rachel Berenson: Let out your wild side”) has performed pretty well this quarter. But there are always marketing campaigns to manage and deals to sign, which is why she and her PR manager Linda are in a trendy Brooklyn café when the phone in her purse buzzes.

Jake tries to sound calm, as he tells her that they’re being called in. Because it’s Jake, he almost succeeds. No details yet, he says, just a behavior-altering pathogen. Possibly extraterrestrial origin.

Around her, the room has gone cold and strange and far away. How silly the delicate spread of quinoa and avocado on her plate appears now, how pointless the fan of business cards in her hand and manicure on her nails.

“My cousin,” she says, and then “family emergency,” and then “I have to go.”

• Marco’s head lifts when the din of the crowd goes quiet ahead of him, scanning automatically for trouble. Jordan Berenson is cutting through the crowd on the dance floor. She’s utterly out of place in her full business suit amidst the night club’s flash and camp, her straight posture bizarre among the half-naked slouch of bodies that surrounds her.

“Hey there, G-woman!” Marco calls over the music.

“She’s a fed?” his security guard Rena asks sharply, glancing at the line of cocaine clearly visible on the nearest end table.

Marco waves Rena away. “She’s family.”

He sees Jordan absorb the label with no small amount of surprise. He’s not sure what the fuck else they’d count as: they’re not friends, but that doesn’t change the fact that they fought and cooked and lived and nearly died together during the war.

“I’m here on behalf of the NSA-CDC joint commission,” Jordan says, trying a small smile.

“And what’s Uncle Sam want with little old me?” Even as Marco says it, he knows: he really really does not want to hear what Jordan is about to say.

• Cassie rolls to her feet when the Army transport jeep approaches, heart already beating faster. The hork-bajir preserve doesn’t get many human visitors, and the official ones never bring good news. She glances over at Tobias – who was, like her, listening to Toby tell a surprisingly entertaining version of their war story to a group of youngsters – and sees him tense, feathers flaring.

Please, she thinks, don’t let it be the start of another “human” rights battle. Which just goes to show that it’s been a while since the war, long enough that she thinks another spat over land grants is the worst thing that can happen to this community.

• «Prince Aximili.» The aristh looks nervous enough to be about ready to trip over his own hooves. «Sir, there’s a message for you. It’s from Earth.»

Ax nods automatically, even knowing that the gesture won’t mean anything to his fellow andalites. «Who on Earth?»

The aristh shuffles his back hooves, tail tucked close to his body. «Just… Earth. A human called the President of the United States. She says she’s calling on behalf of the entire planet.»

A war-prince must always project calm and confidence, to reassure all warriors and civilians who might be watching. Ax manages, only just barely, to remain still and inhale slowly. To keep his voice level when he says, «Thank you. I’ll take the call in my private quarters.»

• There are three of them in the cramped observation room. Then four, then five, and finally six. A unit, huddled together and barefoot and unable to speak. They’re not the only ones here for the meeting, of course. Other people await them in the next room: the Joint Chiefs, the U.N. representatives. Collette and Timmy. Peter. Tom, Jordan, Walter and Michelle. The president.

On the other side of the glass, Eva beats her hands against the wall. A guttural moan gargles in the back of her throat. She’s walking forward, not seeming to realize that she encounters a wall again and again.

The flesh has already rotted off her extremities, leaving bone and putrescent muscle exposed underneath the peeling curls of skin.

“We’ll find a cure,” Cassie says. Even as she tries to breathe through a nightmare come to life, a flashback made present. “We’ll find a way—”

“My mom is dead.” Marco’s voice is as steady as the hands of a man sawing off his own leg. “No heartbeat. No brain activity. No respiration, digestion, circulation.”

Tobias looks back into the room, then at Marco. «But…»

“She’s an organ donor.” Marco’s eyes are dry, but he sniffs hard to keep them that way. “Wanted her body used for science, for humanity, when she couldn’t use it anymore. She’s dead. We’re respecting her wishes.”

Eva’s mouth gnashes at the air, teeth and jawbone exposed where her lips have already decayed. Her fingertips leave streaks of gore on the plexiglas.

“We know it spreads by fluids,” Jake recites dully. “That even a few drops can infect an entire water system. We know that it kills the hosts within hours of infection, and then uses their bodies to try and reproduce itself. We know it can be killed by fire, and by beheading the host, but so far that’s all we know.”

«How many humans have suffered its effects so far?» Ax asks.

“We don’t know,” Jake says. “Lowest estimate’s a few thousand.”

“And the highest?” Cassie asks.

He turns to look at her. The answer’s there on his face, in the way he can’t seem to stop himself from reaching out to take her hand.

• “How bad is it?” Ronnie asks Cassie that night.

She pulls him into her arms, desperate to sink into warmth and soft muscle and still-living flesh. “Remember last time humanity got attacked by an alien pathogen?” she asks. “Remember how that ended for the invading parasites?”

He has to know that she’s dodging the question. But then he wasn’t in the room when the graph tracing the U.S. watersheds spread slowly from blue to red, the entire continent glowing sickly crimson within weeks. The heading at the top said Conservative Estimate. They never saw the non-conservative one.

• Please remain calm, the president’s broadcast says, and stay inside your homes. Boil any water before drinking, she adds, even though they don’t think that that will do any good. Better to give people something to do, some way to feel like there’s still hope.

• Rachel goes up against entire hordes. She becomes elephant, alligator, grizzly and cheetah. She perfects the necessary motions to grab and rip, to sever the spinal column in one bite or one slash. She wades through firestorms as a salamander or rhinoceros, swoops in on kafit wings or surges upward on lerdethak tentacles to rip bodies to bits. Sometimes the others join her. They get infected a dozen, a hundred times, and each time they morph and survive.

• Which is where Tobias’s suggestion comes from.

«I say we arm the populace,» he says.

It’s the six of them, sitting around Marco’s kitchen table — one of his kitchen tables in one of his houses — after yet another bout of endless killing and very little progress.

“Meaning what?” Jake says.

“The civilian death toll’s already high enough, if you ask me,” Marco says. “Seeing as how everyone and their aunt is out there with hunting rifles and modified dracon beams blowing their neighbors away.”

Cassie winces. He’s not wrong. The riots have cost more lives than the plague, according to the latest estimates.

«We’re safe,» Tobias points out. «Or we can fix ourselves. Because we’re morphers. We have the cube… why not use it as widely as possible, on as many people as we can find?»

“That’d be illegal,” Jake says.

Rachel lets out a dull laugh. Cassie can see her point. They’re way past that by now.

“And when the vampires start morphing too?” Rachel asks. “What then?”

“Don’t call them that,” Marco snaps. “They’re dead bodies with parasites inside, not…” He laughs, humorless. “Vampires, revenants, the undead, that’s all stuff you play for pretend on some television show. It’s makeup and bad writing.”

“Yeah,” Rachel says, “just like aliens. Just like shapeshifters.”

«I sincerely doubt that the infected would have the necessary mental abilities to sustain focused attention upon achieving an animal shape,» Ax says. «Tobias’s proposal would indeed break several laws set by at least half a dozen species… and it may be the only way to save this planet.»

“How do we make sure the civilians are using the morph tech responsibly?” Jake asks. Which shows that he’s already thinking about it. Already halfway there.

• They make an announcement on the only remaining television channel. They send out a broadcast on every frequency that emergency radios will pick up. They go even more old-school, and pass out fliers. Anyone who wants the morphing can come. Can wait in line, sometimes for hours, to press their fingers against the box in Marco’s hand. Acquiring DNA is their own problem. So is the two-hour limit, for all of the warnings that Cassie repeats ad infinitum to the waiting crowds and the folks at home.

It’s inevitable, really, when the panic breaks out one day outside the elementary school where they’re recruiting. No one can say for sure if the woman was actually infected, or if the man next to her just thought she was.

Eight people are trampled to death in the ensuing crush. Nearly a hundred more are injured, too many to treat in a town that has already run short on dozens of essentials that must be shipped in from other parts of the country. No one can say how many are infected, just that the Animorphs spend nearly a week clearing the undead out of the area around the elementary school before it’s finally safe to use again.

• The reports coming out of the densely-populated East Coast are shocking. There was a battle between human and undead outside Yonkers, and now Yonkers is overrun. All groundwater from the Chesapeake Bay watershed is now considered infected, take precautionary measures. Florida has closed its borders, and is gunning down anyone who gets too close. A riot over a shipment of bottled water took out eighteen square blocks in downtown Philadelphia, and took out the entire shipment of water as well. The wealthiest residents of Boston and Manhattan are moving off-planet as fast as craft will take them, leaving the rest of the planet to die.

And then one day the reports… stop.

No CNN, no NPR, no MSNBC. No U.S., not really, not anymore.

• “I’m going to go lie down,” Jake’s father says, after a long day in the lab. And, “It’s just a headache, I’m sure.”

It’s the last thing he ever says. Eight hours later, Tom becomes the one to shoot him in the head.

• When Rachel picks up the phone, Jordan says, “You know you’re my hero, right?”

Rachel rushes out of the house, phone up to her ear, desperate for a better signal. “How… you…” She draws a sharp breath. “It’s been three months!” Not just three months since she heard from her sister. Three months since anyone that she knows of has succeeded in making a long-distance call.

“Sat phone,” Jordan says. “Government-issue. We’ve all been taking turns using it, in here.”

“Holy shit.” Rachel pulls the gun off of her belt and, almost unthinkingly, puts a bullet between the eyes of the child who has been shuffling toward her on corpse-stiff limbs. “How are you? How’s DC?”

“Not great, actually. INSCOM’s got me and a bunch of other essential personnel in a bunker. Or they did, anyway.” Jordan clears her throat. “The perimeter’s been breached, and there are about twenty of us holed up in this room. Maybe four—” Her voice wavers, steadies. “Four, five hundred hostiles outside, judging from the security cameras.”

“I’m—” Rachel is running down the street, cataloguing morphs. “I’m coming for you, just hang on.”

“Rachel.” Jordan’s voice is terribly sad. She’s three thousand miles away. “Just listen, okay?”

Rachel sits on the ground. Curls into herself. Fetal position, a ball of helpless rage.

“We’re each taking one phone call, and it just seemed really important to me.” Jordan takes a breath. “To tell you that I love you. That you’ve always been my hero. Since… forever, really. And that everything I am, everything I’ve done, is because of you. So…”

There’s a noise in the background of the call. One Rachel doesn’t want to identify.

“Tell Mom and Sarah I love them, yeah?” Jordan says.

Their mom’s been dead two weeks. Sarah is MIA. “I will,” Rachel says. “I promise. Jordan—”

“Time’s up, gotta go.” There’s a click, and the line goes dead.

• Ax lies so smoothly, so thoroughly, that he doesn’t know if he even remembers how to tell the truth. The fight against the pathogen is going well, he tells the Andalite Navy. Humanity is doing well. There’s no need for alarm. No need for drastic action. Yes, he would like to stay here indefinitely, but only to do what he can to assist the clean-up efforts.

• They morph every six hours, setting alarms to make sure that it happens. There is no uninfected water, not anymore, which means they’re constantly exposed. It can’t last forever. One of these days, Tobias knows, one of them is going to go in their sleep. And there’s nothing to be done to fend it off indefinitely.

• The being who appears in Marco’s living room is human and raptor and andalite and most definitely none of the above. (Ketran, Rachel will say later, and then silently shake her head when they ask her what the word means.) They all still recognize the Ellimist when they see him.

“I came to you once with an offer,” the Ellimist says. “Your lives, and your families’, in exchange for relocation to a different planet. I can bring your families back. Save them, and you. A way to preserve the human species, a final desperate measure.”

“And all of a sudden it’s back on the table?” Marco demands.

The Ellimist nods, or maybe he’s just bowing his head in grief.

They look around at each other, needing no words to communicate their thoughts.

They were so young, the last time they had this offer, Rachel thinks now. She was just a little girl, too caught up in worrying about being in love with a nothlit and disappointing her father to understand what was really at stake. She missed it entirely, the reason Jake and Marco were the ones to hesitate and grieve. They’d both lost loved ones to the yeerks already. They’d known what was at stake, the way that the little girl she’d been at the time could not have known.

Now she understands. Now, I can bring your families back isn’t abstract or principled. It’s real down to her gut, down to her pores. Now she understands, as do they all, just how much war can take. They’re adults. This time, their eyes are open. Their decision is informed.

This time, Jake doesn’t hesitate when he speaks for them all. “Go fuck yourself,” he says. “It’s our planet, and we’ll fight for it to the very last man.”

#animorphs #animorphs au #au #body horror #gore #character death #long post #zombie au #canon compliant

250 notes · View notes

mandy-hanae · 6 years ago

Photo

Forewarning: an exceedingly long list of bullet journal page ideas below :)

Hi everyone, it’s been a while! So, long story short, I’ve made a very long list of bujo page ideas that I think are useful, interesting + fun! Fyi, I’ve arranged the ideas (i.e. the bullet points) under each categories according to my own priority + interests. Also, I’ll be updating this list from time to time, so feel free to suggest new ideas simply by replying this post! ;)

planning

index (table of contents)

key, legend, specifier

goals (daily, weekly, monthly, yearly, future)

goals (short-term, long-term)

new year resolutions / goals

daily spread / log (routines: morning, evening, night)

weekly spread / log / schedule

monthly spread / log / review

future log / yearly calendar

x-year plan (where x = number of years)

to-dos / tasks (daily, weekly)

10 minute tasks

reminders (daily, weekly, monthly, yearly)

important dates

deadlines

birthdays

anniversaries

holidays / special days

appointments / events

diary / journal

trip / travel / holiday / vacation planning

wedding planning

progress tracker (events, goals, etc)

vehicle maintenance (timeline, checklist)

home maintenance (timeline, checklist)

bullet journal (aka bujo)

bujo routine

bujo hacks / tips

bujo themes

header / banner ideas

doodle / drawing ideas

doodle page (doodle a day challenge)

sketchbook (doodling / drawing pages)

title + sub-title ideas

date ideas

divider ideas

layout / spread ideas for bujo

handwriting page

font page

hand lettering / brush lettering / calligraphy

washi tape collection / swatches

pen colours swatches

highlighter colours swatches

brush colours swatches

water colour samples

stationeries / art supplies wishlist

stationeries / art supplies inventor

practice page (hand / brush lettering, doodle, drawing, colour combination, etc)

page to try out new stationeries (pens, markers, highlighters, brushes, etc)

full-page journal entries

bullet journal page ideas

bujo goals

what is bujo + how to bujo? (bujo introduction + guide)

journaling techniques

lifestyle

habits to break

new habits to adopt

chores list / tracker

shopping list

cleaning routine / schedule / tracker

tidying days tracker

laundry tracker

productivity tracker

outfit planning / inspiration / ideas

time management tracker

work / job / career history + timeline

financial

no buy list

no spend days tracker

money-saving tips

savings goals

savings tracker

spending / expenses tracker

monthly budget tracker / planning

debt payoff tracker

income tracker

income growth tracker

bills tracker

gas mileage tracker

self-care / self-improvement

self-care activities / tips

about me (self-introduction)

bucket list

wishlist / wish board

vision board

abstract feelings (drawing therapy: express my feelings, draw my emotions out)

things that make me happy

hobbies tracker

new hobbies to try

hug / cuddle tracker

what do I enjoy + love? / things I enjoy + love

things I got into recently

dream journal / log / tracker

highlights this past year

experiences this year

“fuck it” page (vents / rants; let all those swearings out)

memories of the month

memories / special moments you don’t want to forget

in-do list (things I’ll quit doing)

my horoscope / zodiac sign info

my personality test result / mbti type info / my personality traits

small things that matter

everyday “nothings” I’m grateful for

timeline of my life

map of my life

happy thoughts

notes to self

positive affirmations

sentence-a-day log

one-liner journal

letter to past / future self

personal stories / thoughts (like diary)

random thoughts

skills to learn

things I want to learn

reward tracker

gratitude tracker (things, people)

20 goals before 20

30 goals before 30

things that are stressing me out

how to reduce the things that are stressing me out?

learned lessons / things to reflect on

things to improve

things I love about myself / what I love about myself?

how to stop self-hate / self-loathing?

my values

how to live out my values?

things I’m proud of

things I didn’t do as much as I liked

“flaws” I am grateful for + why

comments

advices

level 10 life

life goals list / tracker

resolutions page

achievements / accomplishments in life

what am I working / fighting for?

how to succeed?

“one smile a day” challenge

my observations about people

where do I want to be in x years? (where x = number of years)

read at least one chapter log

health

hydration tracker (water intake log)

menstruation tracker

mood tracker

relaxation tracker

methods of relaxation

sleep tracker

healthy meals / snacks ideas / options

healthy meal planning / tracker

snacking tendencies tracker

food to eat / avoid list

no x days (where x = food to eat less; e.g. snack, junk food, alcohol, sugar, carbs, etc)

how to cope with mental illness? / mental health management (depression, stress, anxiety, etc)

step count tracker

daily step count goals

energy tracker

migraine tracker

meditation tracker

mental health tracker

meal / food tracker

meal / menu planning

recipes to try / things I want to cook

ratings on things I cooked

favourite recipes

medicine tracker

skin care routine

calorie tracker

exercise / workout tracker

fitness tips / guide

fitness goals

fitness routines / sets

measurements tracker

weight loss / gain tracker

bmi tracker

yoga tracker

yoga poses to try

study (school, university, college)

printables / print outs

things to do before a new semester starts

academic / semester calendar

classes / lectures schedule (timetable)

assessments tracker (assignments, lab reports, projects, homeworks, etc)

project / assignment planning / breakdown (brainstorming new ideas)

important dates (upcoming tests, finals, group discussions, etc)

deadlines tracker (assessment due dates)

study plan for a subject / course / class

studying schedule / timetable/ routine

studying / revision tracker (study hours log)

revision checklist (topics, chapters, subjects, courses, etc)

scholarship activities / events

definitions list

formulas list (maths, chemistry, etc)

vocabulary to learn list

semester goals

grades / exam results tracker

study / school / university supplies list

study / learning websites

reference books / textbooks to buy

study space layout (actual / dream study space)

dream study space ideas

organization tips / ideas for university

productivity tips / ideas for university

before-class routine / checklist

hours spent in library

study tips / hacks

improvement tracker

note-taking method / system

color-code system

studying techniques / methods

how to study smart / efficiently?

how to stay motivated?

how to focus in class?

how to get good grades? / how to improve grades?

how to stop procrastinating?

tips for time management

syllabus / modules list

lecturer / professor / teacher info

past papers tracker

how to overcome failure?

“funny / weird things that happened in university” list

best campus food

favourites

stationeries (pens, markers, highlighters, brushes, etc)

food / meals (desserts, snacks, beverages, drinks, etc)

swatches (stationeries: pens, markers, highlighters, brushes, washi tapes, etc)

colours / colour schemes / colour palettes / colour combinations

hobbies / pastimes

movies / tv series / documentaries / anime

books / manga / manhwa / manhua

genre categories (movies, tv shows, anime, books, manga, music, etc)

songs / playlists / albums / podcasts

lyrics

song artists / bands

apps

ice cream flavours

things / items / products I own (skincare, makeup, etc)

seasons

font types

words

quotes

podcasts

brands (notebooks, clothings, skincare, makeup, etc)

cafes / restaurants

animals / pets

holidays

plants (flowers, leaves, etc)

stores (online / physical stores)

indoor + outdoor activists

poetry

recipes

presents / gifts

feelings

people

aesthetics

celebrities / influencers

characters

blogs / tumblr blogs / websites / youtube channels / instagram accounts

six word stories

scent / smell

fruits + vegetables

sports

checklists

organization ideas / tips

tea / coffee consumed tracker

to watch (movies, tv series, documentaries, anime, etc)

to read (books, articles, manga, manhwa, manhua, etc)

to listen to (songs, playlists, albums, podcasts, etc)

to buy (groceries, shopping, etc)

to try (food, beverages, activities, etc)

to visit (cafes, restaurants, etc)

to travel (places: countries, states, cities, etc)

things to try / attempt

craft / diy project ideas to try

zero waste tips / habits

green living tips / habits

packing checklist (travel, trip, vacation, moving, etc)

adulting list (things I need to learn to become an adult)

maps (colour the place you’ve visited)

before-bed checklist

road trips

random acts of kindness

destinations / places to travel with friends

progress tracker (e.g. book series: pages, chapters, volumes; tv shows: episodes, seasons; podcasts progress, etc)

boredom buster list (fun things to do)

lists

usernames + passwords

playlists for certain moods / occasions

new music discovered

new songs added to playlist

gift / present ideas

things I googled

foreign language vocabulary to learn

new vocabulary

inspirational / motivational quotes

questions I want answers to

story / plot ideas

character ideas

beautiful words to use more often

untranslatable words

365 words to learn (learn a new word per day challenge)

addresses

convenient / useful knowledge

useful unknown facts

interesting / random facts

important contacts / emergency contact info

upcoming releases of things that I like / love (release dates)

pros + cons list

outfits / clothings I own

fashion / outfit inspiration (print outs, magazine cut outs, etc)

how to make someone happy

authors to know

the most important people in my life

collections

flowers / leaves (dried / pressed)

polaroid pictures / photos

swatches (pens, markers, highlighters, brushes, washi tapes, etc)

fortune-telling paper strips / fortune cookie fortunes / amulets

ticket stubs / tickets (movie, train, amusement park, concert tickets, etc)

receipts

stamps (ink)

postage stamps

clothing tags

bookmarks

maps + brochures from travel

greeting cards / postcards

food wrappers / packagings

wrapping papers from gifts you’ve received

cute paper / gift bags

stickers

magazine / book cut outs

business cards

books purchased (titles, date + place of purchase, etc)

social media (blog, tumblr, instagram, pinterest, youtube, etc)

content / post ideas (planning)

social media planning (timeline, content, event, etc)

followers / subscribers count

blog goals

blog information

blog statistics

content updates

social media tracker (time spent on social media)

blogs, tumblr blogs, instagram accounts, youtube channels, pinterest boards, websites, etc to follow

fun

room layout / dream room ideas / room decoration ideas

dream home ideas

aesthetic page (mood board, style board, inspirational photo board, etc)

morse codes

brain dump

brainstorming

pretty + cute things (literally anything pretty + cute)

song of the day

art journal

collage art

colouring page

pen tests page (scribbling page)

random notes

things to look forward to

countdown to a special day / event

“don’t break the chain” challenge

100 days of productivity

moon phases tracker

musical pieces you’d like to play

journal writing prompts

cryptography

invention ideas

best purchases made

“if I had a million dollars”

pet care log

plant care guide + log (plant watering, etc)

family tree

food / snacks / beverages reviews

restaurant / cafe reviews

places travelled review

movies / tv series / anime reviews

book reviews

constellation chart

30 day challenges

hogwarts houses

zentangles

knitting patterns

things that my friends like

friends page (where my friends write stuffs in)

tattoo ideas

philosophical stuffs

5K notes · View notes

newstfionline · 5 years ago

Text

Headlines

Global institutions are flailing in the face of the pandemic (Washington Post) As the coronavirus pandemic sweeps across the world, institutions founded decades ago to organize and manage coherent responses to global crises seem to be flailing on the sidelines. Individual nations have turned inward, competing for resources and hurling blame at each other for allowing the virus to spread. Some are hoarding vital medical supplies and restricting exports, while others are suffering acute shortages. Countries have set their own guidelines for behavior and determined their own travel restrictions without consulting neighbors or the wider international community. The World Health Organization, charged with anticipating and alleviating international health insecurity, is accused by the United States and others of making the situation worse. President Trump, who has said the WHO favors China, on Tuesday announced a halt to U.S. funding. The U.N. Security Council, the world’s premier international decision-making forum, has been paralyzed by disputes among its leading members. The question is not only whether the world order has stumbled but what direction it will take when the current crisis is over. Will there be a new appreciation of its importance, and a determination to make it work better? Or will pre-virus trends accelerate toward tighter borders, less cooperation and a tilt toward nationalism?

Now joining the fight against coronavirus: The world’s armed rebels, drug cartels and gangs (Washington Post) In Afghanistan, the Taliban has dispatched health teams to far-flung provinces to confront the coronavirus. In Mexico, drug cartels are offering aid packages to those feeling its economic impact. In Brazil and El Salvador, gangs enforce curfews to prevent its spread. As governments around the world have responded to the coronavirus, so too have armed insurgents and terrorist groups and drug cartels and gangs, a parallel underworld of public health policy and strategic messaging. It is hardly the first time such groups have attempted to fill the role of government. But few crises in modern times have tested the limits of the world’s nation-states as the coronavirus has, providing an opening for armed groups to step in where presidents, police forces and parliaments have failed. Analysts who study the organizational structure of armed groups are now cataloguing dozens of instances of rebels and bandits making forays into public health policy.

IMF predicts worst recession since Great Depression (Foreign Policy) The International Monetary Fund Chief Economist Gita Gopinath projected that the global economy would contract by 3 percent, a downturn three times greater than the contraction after the 2008 financial crisis. “It is very likely that this year the global economy will experience its worst recession since the Great Depression,” Gopinath said. She added that although a “partial recovery is projected for 2021” countries should still expect their economies to be 5 percent smaller.

Would you give up health or location data to return to work? (AP) As countries around the world edge toward ending lockdowns and restarting their economies and societies, citizens are being more closely monitored, in nations rich and poor, authoritarian and free. New systems to track who is infected and who isn’t, and where they’ve been, have been created or extended in China, South Korea and Singapore. And a range of other surveillance systems – some utilizing GPS location data, some gathering medical data – have been debated or piloted in Israel, Germany, the U.K., Italy and elsewhere. The challenge: achieving the tricky balance between limiting the spread of disease and allowing people freedom to move outside their homes. Whether the prospect on the table is “immunity passports” or cellphone-based tracking apps, the aim is to protect public health. But experts say it’s also important to avoid a slippery-slope scenario where data collected to minimize the spread of disease is stored indefinitely, available without limits to law enforcement or susceptible to hackers.

Military sees no quick exit from 'new world' of coronavirus (AP) The U.S. military is bracing for a months-long struggle against the coronavirus, looking for novel ways to maintain a defensive crouch that sustains troops’ health without breaking their morale — while still protecting the nation. Officials have frozen most forces in place overseas, stopped troops and their families from moving to new assignments, and cut back access to the Pentagon. The military services have halted or restricted recruit training, canceled major exercises, and isolated troops in the most sensitive units. The new Space Force has delayed a satellite launch, and the Navy this week postponed the return of the USS Harry S. Truman, keeping the aircraft carrier at sea to shield its crew from virus exposure at home. These steps to protect the force have parallels in civilian society, but a far-flung military can’t function by staying at home. “This will be a new way of doing business that we have to focus in on,” says Air Force Gen. John Hyten, vice chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. “We’re adjusting to that new world as we speak today.”

In Pandemic’s Grip, Russia Sees Spike in Age-Old Bane: Drinking (NYT) Across the world, the coronavirus pandemic has sparked fears of increased alcohol abuse, as people locked in and anxious turn to drink. In Russia, two weeks into a nationwide partial lockdown, those fears are becoming reality as evidence mounts that a spike in alcohol sales is fueling a rise in domestic violence. Reducing the country’s passion for inebriants has been one of the government’s main public health goals under President Vladimir V. Putin, and the most recent official statistics showed Russians consuming about one-third less alcohol per year than they did in 2003. But dayslong drinking binges are still a habit for some people, especially during holidays. In late March, when Mr. Putin obliged with a nationwide paid week off to combat the spread of the coronavirus, the habit kicked in. Sales of vodka in Russia shot up 65 percent in the last week of March, compared with a month earlier, according to the market research firm GfK.

China Grapples With Diplomatic Disasters (Foreign Policy) Beijing is trying to put out multiple diplomatic fires this week, as China discriminates against foreign residents amid the coronavirus pandemic and its embassies spread misinformation online. It faces the biggest crisis across Africa, after hundreds of African nationals, mainly from Nigeria, were expelled from their homes in Guangdong and banned from restaurants or shops. The discrimination has caused widespread outrage, including a rare joint complaint by around a dozen African countries. Anti-black racism in China is common, and it has grown more intense in recent years. China’s initial response to the protest was to deny the discrimination, though there have now been some attempts at conciliation. Elsewhere, France summoned the Chinese ambassador in Paris on Tuesday after his embassy made false claims online that French nursing home workers were abandoning their charges. The comments follow a pattern of aggressive efforts by Chinese diplomats to depict the rest of the world as slipping into chaos and even to blame other countries for the coronavirus outbreak. Meanwhile, much of the Chinese medical equipment delivered to Europe during the pandemic has been found to be defective or counterfeited.

Taiwan’s coronavirus success (Foreign Policy) Taiwan detected the threat of the coronavirus as early as Dec. 31, 2019, by watching China closely—followed by prompt action by Taiwanese health officials and immediate checks on travelers from Wuhan, where the virus originated. Taiwan remains one of the pandemic’s outstanding success stories, especially given its high degree of travel from China. On Tuesday, Taiwan reported zero new cases of the coronavirus.

North Korea Fires Missiles as South’s Elections Loom (NYT) North Korea fired several short-range missiles off its east coast on Tuesday, a day before South Korea is scheduled to hold elections for its 300-seat Parliament. The projectiles, launched from the town of Munchon, were believed to be cruise missiles, the South Korean military said in a statement. Under a series of United Nations resolutions, North Korea is banned from testing ballistic — but not cruise — missiles. Thus, its launchings on Tuesday were considered less provocative than its recent tests of ballistic missiles. But South Koreans remain sensitive to any move by the North to raise tensions during an election time for fear it might sway how voters cast their ballots.

Japan Needs to Telework. Its Paper-Pushing Offices Make That Hard. (NYT) Officially, Shuhei Aoyama has been teleworking for a month. But that doesn’t mean he can avoid going to the office. Several times a week, Mr. Aoyama makes a half-hour commute across Tokyo for a task seemingly more suited to the age of the samurai than of the supercomputer: stamping his official corporate seal on business contracts and government paperwork. The stamps, known as hanko or inkan, are used in place of signatures on the stream of documents that fill Japan’s workplaces, including the hotel network that employs Mr. Aoyama. They have become a symbol of a hidebound office culture that makes it difficult or impossible for many Japanese to work from home even as the country’s leaders say working remotely is essential to keeping Japan’s coronavirus epidemic from spiraling out of control. While the world may see Japan as a futuristic land of humanoid robots and intelligent toilets, inside its offices, managers maintain a fierce devotion to paper files, fax machines, business card exchanges and face-to-face meetings.

#headlines #news

3 notes · View notes