#marina park residence

[hughiecampbelle]

Parting Pt. 1 (Roy!Sibling x Kendall Roy)

Character/s: Kendall, Logan, fake husband, fake baby lol

Word Count: 2,394

Requested: i have been obsessed with your baby!roy fics recently they are so so good! can you please write something to do with the subs & then being super protective over baby!roy (specifically kendall) please. if not it is all good, thank you so much 🫶🫶 - anon

Inspired By: Family Jewels by Marina

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: In this fic you have a fake family, I just wanted to make that clear since I named a fake baby lol. It was getting too confusing without names lol. I love protective Kendall so much!!! I hope you like it my loves! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Parting Pt. 2 (Roy!Sibling x Kendall Roy)

Succession Masterlist

He used to smell like laundry detergent. The sweet kind that reminded you of feeling clean, feeling safe. Even when he got his suits pressed, that scent lingered. It wasn’t his cologne or his soap, you learned over the years, it was just him. His body, his skin and hair. You liked when you came back with his scent, like it was choosing you, like you were worthy of it, of him. You thought it was a sign that somehow the universe was telling you that this man, this man who smelled of fresh sheets and warm sweaters, would offer you salvation. He would offer a home you had never had before, the kind that you feared you never would have, one you thought you were undeserving of. One of warmth and safety and stability. It sunk into your sheets, in his pillow. It lingers in every room he resides in, even if only for a moment. You used to love it. You used to follow it, searching the many rooms, trying to find him. You used to wish your whole house smelled like that, reflected that, so that anyone who stepped in would feel how you felt. No one seemed to notice though. Only you. Now you wonder if you made it all up, if you were under some kind of spell. Now you roll away from him in your bed, the scent too much, too strong. Suffocating. You take your pillow and a blanket and go to your son's room, choosing to sleep on his floor instead of your bed. You’re not sure when it started, when you’d shut the bedroom door and listen to his soft breathing, when you started slipping away. Sometime after his glass narrowly missed your head. Before you stopped speaking altogether. Somewhere in the middle, between all that, you decided that scent, the lavender, the cotton, somewhere in between then you decided you didn’t want to smell like that anymore.

You never wanted to smell it again. 

The ride over feels excruciating. You sit in the back, beside your son, distracting him with toys, stuffed animals and cars. Almost three, he babbles to you, pointing out the other cars in the heavy traffic, the strangers on the sidewalk. He looks like you, thankfully. He has your eyes, your nose and hair. You hope he doesn’t share his temper, his paranoia, his moodiness. He kicks his feet, growing restless. Up front your husband bangs the steering wheel, equally irritable, eyeing you from the mirror, talking straight ahead. Don’t pull any shit, you hear me? Don’t be rude. You don’t say anything, just kiss his cheeks with his teddy bear, hearing that laugh that melts your heart. High, from the belly. He laughs until he can’t breathe. They’re my family, you want to correct, but you bite your tongue. One night, that’s all. All you have to do is get through one night. You move quickly, unbuckling yourself, then Liam. You hold him close, thanking the driver for parking. Your husband steps out, barking orders, before meeting you on the curb. He doesn’t initiate contact, not anymore. He doesn’t even try with Liam, you won’t let him. Not since that night. He hasn’t been drunk since, but you don’t care. He will not lay a hand on your baby. The doorman greets you warmly despite the cold radiating off him. All the way up you’re surrounded by silence. When you step out of the elevator you’re greeted with noise. Your brothers and sister, niece and nephew, in-laws, as well as the regular work associates, everyone’s here, everyone’s busy. It sounds like it did when you were growing up, so unlike your own quiet home. He greets Marcia with a hug and a kiss while you stray, peeking into the living room. Rava and the kids, Shiv, Tom, Rome. They all showed. Just seeing their faces makes you feel better, more like yourself than you’ve felt in weeks. You greet Marcia, asking how your father is. In one of his moods, she shrugs. She holds Liam, spinning him around. You linger, not wanting her to hand him off to him. You should know better, though. He leaves you for Frank and Karl, talking to them like there’s nothing wrong. He’d leave you both for dead if it meant getting an inch up the corporate ladder. 

Your siblings all give you big hugs. You’re happy to see them. They stay the same, they always have. Shiv makes a remark about Marcia you can’t help but smile at. Connor is a tad bit oblivious, asking how your husband is doing as if he’s not in the room. Good, Con. He’s good. Rome is ready to drink the night away, pointing out how tired you look. Haven’t been sleeping well, you smile, unphased. Those hardwood floors aren’t exactly the most comfortable, you want to joke, but stop yourself. You toss and turn, checking on Liam every time you wake up, every time he stirs. A few times he crawled into your arms, dragging along his Spiderman blanket, his small body emitting so much heat, so much warmth. That is when you sleep the best. Only Kendall, your second biggest brother, notices something is off. You’re not looking at him, you can’t stand to, you weren’t even holding his hand or anything. You looked like strangers when you walked in. And you do look tired, exhausted, as if you hadn’t slept since he’d last seen you. He doesn’t say anything there, now, but he makes a mental note to. You talk with Rava, who wants to eat Liam up, and the kids, who are always a delight. You keep tabs on how many drinks your father pours your husband. Finally, you go over to Logan, who welcomes you with open arms. There you are, he greets, buttered up by your husband's ass-kissing. Here I am, you laugh. It takes everything out of you to be cheery, to be upbeat. You didn’t want to come, but you hadn’t gone to the last family dinner and he still believed in keeping up the facade. Look how big you are, William. You cringe. Named after your husband's father, you always hated the name, insisting he go by his nickname. Almost everyone in the family called him Liam, but your father was a traditionalist. No grandson of his would go by a nickname. Your son buries his face into your neck, suddenly shy. You’re not listening to anything he says, about work, Gojo, Matsson, Mencken. All the names start to sound the same. You’re too focused on what he has to say, what web of lies he’s stringing. Came down with the flu, poor thing. Luckily they didn’t get the baby sick. They’re feeling much better, though. We’re both so glad to be here. . . Tuning in and out of conversation until you can’t stand it any longer. You excuse yourself, needing air. 

You were young when you got together, teenagers. He was the son of one of your fathers many associates. Deeming him worthy enough to date you, the pair set you up per his insistence. You thought he was nice, kind, smart, like them all. Like the rest. He wasn’t anything special, anyone special. But he liked you and that was enough for them. Over time, over the years, you found things to like and eventually love. His scent, but also how respectful he was to your father and mother, how he got along with your siblings, how driven he was. You’d noticed early on he was eager to anger, that everyone was against him. You thought, naively, he’d grow out of it, he’d mature. You should have known a man like that doesn’t change. Just look at your father. Still, you stayed with him. What else were you supposed to do? Your father believed he’d created the perfect match, that you would eventually marry. And you would. Just old enough to legally drink, he popped the question over champagne and an expensive ring. You couldn’t say no. Years you spent together. Breaking it off wasn’t an option. You’d get a fancy apartment with too many rooms and you’d have Liam, the catalyst, you think, to your many fights, to the rift. It was bound to happen eventually. You wanted a big family, like your own. He wanted one. Two, if the first was a girl. You have one. And he is the love of your life. You would do anything for him. He just wanted a legacy, an heir, to share a scotch with him on his eighteenth birthday. Before then, he preferred to be strangers. You couldn’t let that happen. You would die before it did, before he acted that way with him. You? You got yourself into this mess, you never disobeyed him, you never resisted, but Liam didn’t deserve that, he didn’t ask for it, he’d simply been born into it. You couldn’t let the cycle repeat. You just couldn’t. 

Your hands hang over the banister, the balcony's edge. The noise of the traffic, the horns, people yelling, it wasn’t any more comforting than the noise inside, but at least it wasn’t him. You’d handed Liam off to Willa with clear, strict instructions. Do not let him near you, either of you. If he tries anything, find me. Willa nodded, cautious, her hand cradling his head. She’d protect him. She’d protect you, keeping whatever you say between you. You watched her and Connor play peek-a-boo and talk to him, pointing out family members. He smiled brightly, even giggling. He’s in good hands. You’re shivering, but you don’t move. It’s better out here. It feels safer out here. Your family, your father especially, love him. Logan sees himself in your husband, that is enough to want to run and never stop. After a few minutes, the door slides open. You jump, expecting something awful. Expecting meanness. What the fuck are you doing? Where’s Liam? You can’t act normal for a few hours, is it too fucking hard. Jesus y/n. . . Instead you feel something over your shoulders: a suit jacket. Kendall's. He holds out a glass to you, wine probably. You only take a sip, needing to be sober, alert. You need to be ready. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just stands beside you. And then: How come you’re not sleeping? His tone is genuine, dipped in worry. You thought you’d played it off well, but he had second thoughts. The bags under your eyes resemble bruises. Hollow. You’re not sure what to say, if you should lie or tell the truth. You wait a moment, wishing you’d just stayed inside. I, uh, I’ve been sleeping on Liam's floor. Before you can stop, your words come up, out, leaving you clutching the banister. I’m leaving him. I, I don’t know when, but soon. I should have done it a long time ago, but I was scared. You know how Dad loves him. It’s a deafening silence, your brother taking it all in. He lets out a sigh. In anger? In relief? You can’t tell. Is he hurting you? Is he hurting- No. You’re quick to say. Do you need a lawyer? The question comes out so earnestly, you almost laugh. Not mine, but, but Rava has a good one. A really good one. You nod. Yes, yes you do. Want me to kill him for you? Startled, you look up in his eyes, deep brown. They look so sad, so grown. Can you make it look like an accident? You smile, knowing you shouldn’t. Anything for you. You lean into him, wishing you could freeze time. So many things go unsaid. How much you appreciate him, how thankful you are that he picked up on something no one else had. He’s always been there for you, but you’ve felt isolated since your marriage. This is your family, not his. He could co-op them however he liked, you were Roy. You were, not him. You still are. 

Kendalls hand never leaves your back as you walk in together. Willa looks at you, and you nod, when Kendall takes Liam, giving you a break. He sits beside you at dinner, him and Rava having a conversation with nothing but their eyes. In the end, she seems to understand. He puts a barrier between the two of you, one your husband starts to notice, starts to get irritated by. He tries to put his arm around you, but Kendall intervenes. Coming back from the bathroom, you watch your brother lean over your chair to his brother-in-law, where he says something you can’t hear, but can read, covering Liam’s ears. Go fuck yourself. As you sit, they resume like nothing happened. Your husband looks stunned but only for a moment. He never tries to touch you again, using all his attention at the opposing end of the table. You’re trying not to grin.

When it’s time to go, Kendall hugs you last, slipping a card into your jacket pocket. You don’t have to read it to know it’s the lawyer, one of the best in the business. He doesn’t want to let go, he can’t for a few seconds. He doesn’t want to let you go home with him. You’ve already called a driver, your husband unsteady on his feet, Liam asleep on your shoulder. It’ll be okay, you whisper, I'll be okay. He can’t say anything, nothing comes to mind, just begging, pleading, cursing. He wants you and your son to stay with him, Shiv, Con, even Rome. Anyone else, anywhere else, but home. He wants you safe, the both of you, far from that prick. He never liked him, but now he loathed him. You manage a smile, a shaky one, before letting go. Your husband leans on to you, forgetting the rules. You offer your big brother one last wave before the doors close. He doesn’t know it, and neither will you, but it’s the last time you see him for a long time, all of them. Did he do the right thing? Did he do enough? He resists the urge to pry the doors open, to call after you, a horrible feeling washing over him. Something terrible is going to happen, he fears, and he has no one to blame but himself. . .

[notbecauseofvictories]

what's ur fave bldg in chicago? I went on an architecture boat tour and I'm obsessed with marina city

first of all, the architecture boat tour is great, and yes, people do look at me weird when I recommend it for residents and tourists alike---but I'm right and everyone who has taken the tour agrees with me.

anyway, I have many, many favorite buildings in Chicago (seriously, I have a list) but I'm going to talk about one of the less-discussed:

The Garfield Park Fieldhouse!

To set the scene: many Chicagoans (including architects, and social activists) had attended the World's Columbian Exposition of 1893, hosted on the south side of the city. Many had been inspired by Fredrick Law Olmsted's landscaping, and fervent belief that public green spaces were an important asset to any city. Driven by this belief, the existing park commissions (founded 1869) started getting more aggressive about translating the newfangled "city park" concept into reality. The group that oversaw the establishment of Garfield Park was the West Park Commission, and they were instrumental in fundraising for and then helping oversee the project. The architects were Michaelsen & Rognstad, who designed a number of eye-catching buildings in Chicago.

Initially, the building was intended to be the West Park Commission's headquarters, though it also had facilities for boating and skating on the nearby pond. However, it only lasted that way for a few years. Shortly after its completion in 1928, the various park commissions were folded into the brand new Chicago Park District, and the building was converted into a fieldhouse.

(The "fieldhouse" concept---large buildings anchoring public parks, and providing space for meetings or classes, as well as gymnasiums, locker rooms, and swimming pools---was loosely based on the settlement houses scattered throughout the city. By creating its public parks and fieldhouses, therefore, Chicago was twinning two great progressive movements---and establishing the landscape of the city that still exists today.)

Anyway, in a city that's largely built from behemoth skyscrapers and the clean lines of Classical architecture, the Garfield Park Fieldhouse stands apart. It is not clean. It is not smooth or glassy. It is a riot of Spanish Baroque Revival design and every possible crenelation, scallop, and twining vine pattern they could shove into the space. Given how large the building itself is, this is a lot:

Researching the Garfield Park Fieldhouse was the first time I ever read the word "Churrigueresque." (It means "baroque, but more".) Even better, this elaborately designed building is topped by a burnished metal dome, that incidentally looks like gold when the sun hits it:

Not to mention that this sense of elaborate decoration continues inside, though updated slightly for a more beaux-arts feel:

In short, it is a microcosm of turn of the century Chicago, its history and the history of Garfield Park is fascinating (I have a wild crush on Jens Jensen, fyi) and while the building itself might not be to your taste, you can't deny it's got buckets of style.

[olet-lucernam]

A Hollow Promise [25] chapter vi, part ii

{_[on AO3]_}

main tags : loki x original character, post-avengers 2012, canon divergence - post-thor: the dark world, canon-typical violence, mentions of torture

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summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of New York, the Avengers need a few days to build a transport device for the Tesseract. With the Helicarrier damaged and surveillance offline, SHIELD sends an asset to guard Loki in the interim: a young woman who sees the truth in all things, and cannot lie.

Even long presumed dead, her memories lost to her, Loki would know her anywhere.

And this changes things.

Some things last beyond infinity. And the universe is in love with chaos.

(Loki was never looking for redemption. It came as an unexpected side-effect.)

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chapter summary : astrid gathers her allies, and draws the attention of her enemies. loki pays a heavy price for a victory.

recommended listening : rebel soul, katharine appleton, maja norming

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tag list: @femmealec, @mischief2sarawr

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[PREVIOUS] | [MASTERLIST] | [NEXT]

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Astrid had told the truth, as always. Ophelia was not her only appointment.

Neither was she the first, however.

Hours earlier, wrapped in a fine, black woollen pea coat and comfortable trainers, Astrid had been walking through the fog and frigid, sea-soaked air of the Cornish coastal town of Looe.

The historical fishing village was sheltered within a deep valley, prefaced inland by thick, verdant forests and winding country roads. Ivory villas and weathered stone cottages were built into the slopes of the cliffs, bordered by a riot of meadow-flora and hardy coastal shrubs, the settlement split in half by the river that decanted into the small marina, and the open, pewter waters of the North Atlantic.

The place held a kind of quaint, antique seaside charm that was ubiquitous to Britain, in Astrid’s experience- a nostalgia that was just slightly foreign to her, evoking the same feeling as the second-hand copies of those interbellum novels by Enid Blyton and Agatha Christie that she used to read on rainy days at home.

She could feel Loki watching through her eyes, dozing gently, shamelessly indolent as he clung to sleep.

Exhaling a smile, Astrid consciously drank in as much as she could. She drew the mouldering, salt-stained tang of seaweed and ocean shallows deep into her lungs, face raised to the damp air, clear-eyed and refreshed.

It was one of the many reasons to be relieved to be out of SHIELD’s custody: wherever she went, and whatever she saw, Loki could experience it through their link. And she was one of the rare, fortunate few who could go anywhere, at any time, with little enough effort.

A flush of affection bloomed in her, like a kiss at the nape of her neck, Loki reading her intentions like braille.

Astrid giggled, the ache of want in her chest ebbing slightly, and glanced out across the harbour.

It was the off-season; the tourism trade withered into hibernation with the last days of August, and first weeks of September. Even so, the picturesque village obviously received a fair number of visitors in the summer months. Across the town, there was an abundance of cafés, bakeries, fishmongers, local crafts shops, ice cream parlours, wetsuit and board rental stores. A sprawling car park had been cut at the base of the hill, and a number of small commercial pleasure boats were moored against the harbour walls, anchored between algae-stained tangerine buoys, advertising sea safaris and recreational fishing trips on printed boards affixed to the weather-rusted harbour railing. A few places were shuttered, but other businesses remained open even into November, catering to the permanent residents of the town.

As she chased the slope upwards, approaching from the narrow, eastern flank of the harbour, towards the ageing arcade and stone bridge across the river, a thought occurred to her.

“Loki. Do you like seafood?”

She felt Loki stir. Astrid could almost imagine his head lifting from his cupped hand- or rolling across a pillow to look at her, black curls spilling, eyebrows steepled in mild askance.

I tend to eat more game, I suppose, he answered cautiously. Hunts are too popular on Asgard for it to be otherwise. But I do like shellfish. Although it is seen as peasant food on Asgard. Cheap fare, common as mud, to be eaten at the harbour by tradesfolk.

“It used to be the same here, for centuries,” Astrid replied, the corner of her mouth twisting up sardonically. “Oysters were still delicious when they were only good for the poor.”

Loki laughed softly. It is ridiculous, is it not? The arbitrary standards of high taste.

He hesitated for a long moment.

I do like oysters, he admitted, almost nervous.

A lilt kicked into Astrid’s step, her mood lifting.

“Oysters, then.” Widening her stride into a loping gait, forming rolling bounce on the balls of her feet, she lifted her face to the headwinds, letting it blow her hair back. “Maybe mussels or scallops, if I can’t find any? Oh- and cream tea.”

Cream tea?

“It’s, ah- like a dessert version of afternoon tea, I suppose? It’s sometimes called Cornish tea.” Astrid crossed the bridge at a brisk clip, shoulder bag tapping at her hip. “You’ll love it. Black tea, served with split scones, clotted cream, and jam. Strawberry is traditional, but I prefer raspberry.”

At the mention of something sweet, she felt Loki’s interest instantly perk.

Astrid’s victory dimmed as Loki swiftly crushed down on his eagerness, cooling into reflexive indifference.

Then you should have raspberry, my heart, he replied mildly, like fingers skimming her cheekbone.

“Mm.”

Astrid strummed her fingers against the cross-strap of her bag, tension furling.

She wondered if she could just scream I want to give you this, let me give you this, I want to give you everything, be selfish with me, just ask me and it’s yours, yours, yours, just say the word, put me to the test, let me prove it across the connection, or if that would be too blunt.

She opted for a subtler option. For now. “Seeing as we’re breaking tradition, we could change the tea out as well.”

Peppermint?

“I thought you might prefer rosehip. Or something floral.”

It’s your tongue, darling.

Astrid nipped her lower lip.

“I like sharing my tongue with you.”

She felt his train of thought stutter, before heating.

You’re playing a dangerous game, Astra, Loki warned, dark and edging into primal, shifting into a voice behind her left ear that seemed spoken through gritted teeth.

Astrid startled, almost tripping, as she felt the sensation of the pads of his fingers swiping at her inner thigh.

Her brain short-circuited for a moment.

Hm. Are you curious, darling?

She bit her lip, restraining the impulse to goad him further.

Following Loki revealing how he could twist his magic into her through their link, Astrid had begun asking about the possibilities. The conversation had been mostly practical- but the thought had occurred to her, even if she had quickly become distracted when it struck her exactly how ingenious the method was, how brilliant Loki was, how blithely oblivious he seemed to that fact.

But now- despite herself, folding her lip between her teeth in an effort to pin her unravelling thoughts in place- Astrid lingered over exactly how far and how intensely he could project sensation into her, how much sensory feedback he received back through their link, and whether-

No. Nope. Nope, nope, no. Work first, North. We’ll explore that another time.

Despite the curl of delighted, thoroughly distracted mischief from Loki, he let the matter drop.

Astrid exhaled quietly, grateful.

Today, she was visiting an old friend. It would be unwise to arrive disarmed of her wits.

Astrid swung off the bridge and into West Looe, swerving in a hairpin turn back down the hill, sinking into the warren of the town. There were only a few figures out in the midmorning light, walking dogs or tending to their boats, the quiet seeming to echo against the rush of the sea. The narrow streets were barely broad enough to accommodate a single car, the cobbles uneven and worn smooth underfoot, none of the structures more than two or three stories tall; most of them were at least a century or two old, patchworked with modern features, dating to the days of smugglers and portside inns and the great age of sail, their timbers ancient and their walls full of ghosts and memories.

She came to a halt outside a particular storefront.

The entire street was built into the incline of the hill, its rowhouses sitting a foot or so below the edge of the pavement, squatting low. The windows of the ground floor were almost level with Astrid’s crown, the sills above within reach if she cared to make the short jump, walls a washed white between dark Tudor beams.

Astrid tipped her head up a millimetre, the aperture of her senses opening to sweep the interior, as she read the sign affixed above the door.

Witches’ Brew, it read, white font upon a rich violet backing. On the left side of the sign was the outline of a cat, paws upon the rim of a bubbling cauldron to peer at the contents.

Bookshop, was added underneath, in smaller, blunter font. Tarot. Occult. Café.

You know, Loki commented, there is an infusion made from íviðia blossoms called witches’ brew.

Astrid tipped her head. “Really?” She asked softly.

Mother sent some blossoms to my cell recently- if you care to share my tongue later?

She winced into a grin, knowing that he wasn’t going to let that go any time soon. “Mm, in exchange for cream tea?” She teased.

Astrid felt a pair of arms slip and loop around her midriff, a mouth skimming her crown.

She felt the gentle billow of his sigh, the phantom of his chest against her back.

You drive quite a bargain.

With a faint smile, Astrid stepped down to the shop’s door, and turned the handle.

A classic shopkeeper’s bell chimed overhead, jostled into motion, before the door clicked shut behind her.

She was met with the fragrance of incense- a thicker, heavier curtain of agarwood, compared to the delicately floral smoke that lingered in the training halls where she grew up, and which her father preferred- blended with the earthiness of burned white sage, and coffee grounds.

The shop was quiet. Her steps were muffled by a dark patterned carpet, the space airy and inviting, despite the low ceilings and semi-subterranean position. At the right, the space folded into a geometric puzzle of tall bookshelves, walls paved with spines, the stacks labelled by genre with signs in blackboard and chalk, a few tables laid out with bricks of bestsellers and new arrivals. To her left was the register- unoccupied, with a bell to ring for service- and several tables and shelves, displaying various occult-themed wares. There were box-trays of tumbled, semi-precious gemstones, kitsch plastic goblets with dragons curled around their stems, dowsing crystals and decorative glass figurines, starter guides to palmistry and divining the stars.

Her eyes skipped past all of them, and up.

A large sign was placed at the bottom of a flight of narrow stairs. It advertised the café on the second floor, and tea leaf readings.

Astrid didn’t move to ring the bell on the counter, but the one at the door must have been enough.

“I’ll be right with you, dear!”

A woman’s voice called down from the upper floor. It was American-accented, almost neutral, but underscored with something in the region of Massachusetts.

Astrid smiled, folding her arms and turning away.

“That’s alright!” She replied, voice raised to carry as clear as struck crystal, twisting at the waist to speak over her shoulder. “Take your time! I’m here to see a friend.”

Movement upstairs stilled.

A beat passed, before Astrid felt the familiar crackle of magical wards being activated.

Loki reacted, his mana surging into her nerves with a precision that knocked the breath from her chest, pressing up to the surface of her skin, preparing to force his own counter-wards into her flesh.

Catching her breath, fingers fluttering at the foreign magic in her blood, Astrid sent him a gentle nudge of reassurance.

“Did you not hear the word friend, Agatha?” She yelled up, tone dry and hip cocking. “Your wards didn’t react when I walked in. Now would you please quit it?”

Before Loki tries to rip apart your spellwork and fracture your magical core in the backlash, she added internally.

Don’t tempt me, darling, Loki warned, poised like an adder to strike. Who is she?

The wards lingered, bristling like spines- before settling back.

A moment later, Astrid heard footsteps, and the creak of the ageing banister under new weight.

As I said. She’s a friend… of a sort.

Of a sort?

The subject of discussion halted, a few steps above ground floor.

Astrid remained with her back turned for several seconds, shoulder blades open and unguarded.

After deeming that her message had sufficient time to sink in- if it was going to at all- Astrid turned.

It had been about a century and a quarter, chronologically, since they had last seen each other- during the last of her father’s missions that Astrid had accompanied him on, before she had gone looking for answers.

The inciting incident that drove her to look for answers, in fact.

True to form, however, Agatha Harkness had adapted, and today was the very image of a modern, new-age witch.

Stocky, square-jawed, and casually confident, she possessed the mien and bone structure that would command the description of a handsome woman. Dressed in plimsoles, thick black leggings, and a cable-knit sweater the exact velvety depth of wolfsbane, she looked deceptively, cosily middle-class, her dark chestnut hair styled in a cloud of tight waves to her shoulders, framing her fair, round face and dark cobalt eyes.

“Well.” She draped an elbow across the rail, sleeves rolled back, sizing Astrid up with a wide, crooked smile and a gaze as hard as flint. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

Astrid was simultaneously reminded of a salacious, bored housewife with a mind like a steel trap, and a large crocodile sunbathing by the water’s edge.

“It’s good to see you, Agatha,” Astrid said sincerely, light as air. “You look well. I’m glad.”

She tried to sacrifice my soul to Mephistopheles once, Astrid admitted to Loki, deciding that it would be better to get it out of the way now.

She did what? Loki snarled, alarmed.

Long story. Daddy stepped in. She came to regret it.

She could feel Loki glaring into her. Because you made her regret it, or because she decided to regret it? Because that’s quite a distinction, darling.

Astrid almost laughed. His mind was always so quick.

Alright, fine. A little of both.

Jaw and mouth pursed tightly, Agatha’s eyes flitted sharply across and behind Astrid’s form, darting as dragonflies.

Astrid softened her stance, loosening her limbs and opening her posture.

“It’s just us,” she said reassuringly.

Conveniently, Astrid did not mention that us included the sorcerer-prince whose mind was currently linked to her nervous system.

Astra.

His tone was grim, steeled, but quietly restrained.

Astrid sensed the unspoken undercurrent underneath- that he wanted her out of that shop, now.

Astrid reached for him, slotting herself into his edges, feeling him shift to accommodate her.

Please trust me, Loki. I have this.

She felt him hesitate, her calm focus an emollient.

Besides, she added. You might find that you like her.

I highly doubt that, dove, Loki replied haughtily, even as he relented.

She kept silent. Something told her that Loki would refuse to see the similarities, even if she informed him of exactly how her long story with Agatha had ended.

Agatha’s expression had stiffened slightly, eyes narrowing to a squint.

“Just so that we’re clear,” she drawled, gesturing vaguely across her with a jabbing index finger, “you’re not here to check in on me, or- drag me away to some kind of tribunal, are you?”

Astrid tipped her head consideringly. “Have you done anything to warrant it?”

Once again, Astrid opted not mention that she already had a fair idea of the answer. She had made it her responsibility to know; confidence in her decision didn’t negate the gamble, and Astrid wouldn’t ignore her culpability if things went sour.

As far as she could tell, however, Agatha had been smart. She had spent the years since they had last seen each other travelling and researching and collecting, restraining herself to a few petty grudges, mild curses, and mostly harmless, mostly necessary fraud. All in all, nothing that Astrid had found worth getting into a snit over.

Besides. That thing with the carnivorous rabbit had been pretty funny.

Astrid could feel Loki trying to pretend that he wasn’t intrigued.

Agatha snorted. “Not in my book, but we both know that doesn’t mean much. Even my best behaviour means being a little badsometimes.”

“Mm. Well, so long as they deserved it, I’m happy to remain ignorant.”

Brows raised, corners of her mouth tugging into a shrug, Agatha looked pleasantly surprised.

“Huh. Well, in that case- it’s good to see you too, Little Miss Dante,” she said wryly, dragging out the old nickname as though she were dusting off a spellbook, descending the last few steps. “Now that we’ve got the formalities out of the way, how have you been for the past- oh, hundred and thirty years or so?”

“Not quite so long on my side, Madame Virgil,” Astrid admitted, satin-smooth as sugar ribbons, “but I’ve- been busy.”

The Divine Comedy? Loki noticed.

Mm, good catch.

He paused, quietly assessing- before relaxing slightly in realisation.

Aha. I see.

Astrid held down her smile, but sent its warmth in his direction.

“And what about your dish of a father?” Agatha asked.

“Not interested, Agatha.”

And still hung up on whoever gave him that watch.

“Huh. Pity.” Agatha paused, appraising Astrid with long, slow sweeps. One forearm folded against her lower ribs, the opposite hand raised, fingertips rubbing together. “Any luck, then, dear, with that little- soul-searching identity quest of yours?”

Lifting one shoulder, Astrid let herself smile abstrusely.

“Some. Thank you for asking.”

“Well, you know. I like to know who and what I’ve made a deal with,” she said, head lowered into an unblinking stare, as though wondering how Astrid’s liver might taste, “as a rule.”

“It’s a good rule.” She said mildly.

Agatha looked at her for a long moment, one corner of her mouth and eye tensing- then straightened, clapping her palms together and spinning on her heel.

“Well, since you came all this way- fancy some tea? I could read your leaves for you! I must say, I’ve gotten pretty good- or, well, as good as you can get, with fortune-telling. It’s always a bit of a crapshoot, you know. Less mess than the animal guts, though.”

Astrid adjusted the strap of her bag against her shoulder as Agatha began to head up towards the café, not even waiting for her reply.

“Why not? We do have a lot to catch up on.” She began to follow her up the stairs, drawing a shallow breath as she went in for the kill. “And I think I have a way to get Karmar-Taj off your back so that you can come out of hiding, so I’m sure you’ll want to-”

Agatha turned back to her sharply. “What?”

Her eyes were slightly wild, incredulous, and treacherously hopeful.

Reflecting briefly, Astrid supposed that she should feel a little bad.

That was, if not for the memory of choking sulphur, of her face and throat scorching with brimstone-heat, and the sound of dimensions ripping apart like adipose from muscle tissue and Agatha laughing broad and wild- just before Mephistopheles betrayed her, just before Astrid regained the strength to yank the witch away from the consequences of her own actions.

Just because she had forgiven did not mean she was inclined to be nice.

Besides. Agatha would respect her less if she was.

Loki watched her work, ruthlessly, using honesty as a weapon and the truth like she she owned it, cautious and amused and a little proud.

Astrid arched her brows, both at him and the witch standing before her.

“You didn’t think I’d come without a gift, did you?”

-

Some time later, a platter of a dozen shucked oysters in front of her, seated with a sea view and décor of scrubbed wood and clean white walls, Astrid made the first entry on her shopping list.

Tea leaves.

-

[PREVIOUS] | [MASTERLIST] | [NEXT]

[kolajmag]

THIS WEEK AT KOLAJ MAGAZINE

Collective Unconscious, Migrating Forces, & Fragmented Bodies

FROM THE ARTIST DIRECTORY Bubbling from the Collective Unconscious Sylvia Marina Martinez | Monterey Park, California, USA

COLLAGE ON VIEW A Geometry of Hours Jacqueline Dee Parker at Isabella Valise/Devin Borden in Houston, Texas, USA

COLLAGE ON VIEW Fragmented Bodies at Galleria Lorcan O'Neill in Rome, Italy

COLLAGE ON VIEW CoLABELage at Collage-O-Rama at Slip Gallery in Seattle, Washington, USA

FROM THE PRINT ISSUE Alexandra Ackerman's Artist Portfolio in Kolaj #39

FROM THE PRINT ISSUE Migrating Forces in Kolaj #39

INSTITUTE NEWS Street Art Residency Artists Announcement

Read the full update

*****************************

Kolaj Magazine, a full color, print magazine, exists to show how the world of collage is rich, layered, and thick with complexity. By remixing history and culture, collage artists forge new thinking. To understand collage is to reshape one's thinking of art history and redefine the canon of visual culture that informs the present.

SUBSCRIBE | CURRENT ISSUE | GET A COPY

SIGN UP TO GET EMAILS

[pissgod-639]

THE URGE TO PUKE ALL MY INTERESTS RN

Games: Buckshot Roulette, Roblox (Buckshot Showdown, Westbound, Daybreak 2, In Plain Sight 2, Guts and Blackpowder, Untitled Boxing Game, A Stereotypical Obby/Repleh Archives, Specter 2, Tower Defense Simulator), Outlast, Boyfriend to Death, Fear & Hunger, Until Dawn, Price of Flesh, Transformice, Persona 4 & 5, Honkai Star Rail, Genshin Impact, Resident Evil, Class of '09, Detroit: Become Human, Minecraft, Animal Jam, Epic Seven, D4DJ, Fortnite, Guilty Gear Strive, Rainbow Six Seige, Overwatch, Team Fortress 2, Skullgirls, Somnium, Muse Dash, Dragon Raja, Up All Night, Red Dead Redemption, Five Nights at Freddy's, Doki Doki Literature Club, Fatal Frame, Blasphemous, Hylics, Needy Streamer Overload, Ace Attorney, Danganronpa

Reads: I'm Dating a Psychopath by Nosleeparewe; Daybreak by Moosopp; Clinic of Horrors by Merryweather; Winter Moon by Merryweather; Your Wings and Mine by Hakeism; Deathsitter by Puppetology; Ghost Lights by Fantakoi; Uriah by Toffuo; Welfare Center by NANA; Stagtown by Punko; @CRC_Luna's Conspiracy Research Club, The Predator by Shin Heebin/Chi Chi; Happy Sugar Life, Killing Stalking, Black Mirror, My Dearest Self with Malice Aforethought, Takopii's Original Sin, Blue Lock, Chainsaw Man, Goodnight Punpun, Chobits, Lady K and the Sick Man, Tokyo Revengers, Berserk, All Quiet on the Western Front, Prairie Fire

Watches: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN, Girl from Nowhere, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Monster, Death Note, The Walking Dead, All Quiet on the Western Front, Kakegurui, Madoka Magica, Violet Evergarden, Expelled from Paradise, All of Us are Dead, Japan Sinks 2020, Pretty Cure, Glitter Force, Words Bubble Up like Soda Pop, Voltron, Gun Gale Online, Squid Game, Hunterxhunter, My Little Pony, Carole & Tuesday, Petscop, Ena, Mandela Catalogue, Gemini Home Entertainment, Children Under the House, A Quiet Place, FNAF VHS, Bambi, Frozen, Mulan

Content Creators: Markiplier, Jerma985, Nexpo, Kubz Scouts, Jack Stauber, Joel G, Quackity, Prykations, Kkelsey_spring, grayworms, breakingthepage, ashiiu, pyro.cri, m.emityy, nyoomian, rabbits.foots, munkaei, ccoffeeplz, nikoco_11, dotswappu, keo_chooo_, Antlergrave, Jumi_bits, plastic_pots.png, pocaarii, demaymayart, hagushka, lesmestiar, Nosleeparewe, Jin_jing93, aki.strike, Caseoh

Music: Mitski, Lorde, Tv Girl, Cocteau Twins, Mother Mother, Machine Girl, Grimes, Poppy, Cigarettes After Sex, Matt Maltese, Radiohead, Dazey and the Scouts, Roar, Mars Argo, Current Joys, Violent Vira

Other: Methods of execution/torture, Marine Biology, Forensic Science, Arctic Biomes, True Crime, US History, Germany, Game lore, Making lore from games, Frutiger Aero, Survival preparation, Military, Sharks, Cowboys, Gore, Flawed characters, Niche characters/games, Making art for communities, Biblical themes, Gods, Paranormal

Characters: Finley Marai (DB2), Dakari Bowens (DB2), Ren Hana (BTD), Lawrence Oleander (BTD), Strade (BTD), Finn Lewis (IDAP), Scott (IDAP), Meowscles (FN), Jing Yuan (HSR), Blade (HSR), SUNDAY (HSR), Nanook (HSR), Fuli (HSR), Yaoshi (HSR), Columbina (GI), Scaramouche/Wanderer (GI), Beam (CSM), Ironclad (IPS2), Payday (IPS2), Subzero (IPS2), Tony (IPS2), Chris (UD), Sam (UD), Mike (UD), Carlos Oliveira (RE3), Chris Redfield (RE), Miles Upshur (OL), Waylon Park (OL:WB), Marina (F&H:T), Ragnvaldr (F&H), Cahara (F&H), Pocketcat (F&H), Crow Mauler (F&H), Oh Sangwoo (KS), Yang Seungbae (KS), Yoon Bum (KS), Aiko (GNPP), Bandit (R6S), Cole Cassidy (OW), D.Va (OW), Luluca (E7), Pavel (E7), May (GGS), Faust (GGS), Millia (GGS), Ramlethal (GGS), Happy Chaos (GGS), Bridget (GGS), Johnny (GGS), Dizzy (GG), Akira/Ren (P5), Futaba/Oracle (P5), Ryuji/Skull (P5), Yu (P4), Yosuke (P4), Nagi (BL), Kaiser (BL), Foxy (FNAF), Luna (MLP), John D. Rockefeller, George Washington, Nick Torres (UAN) and more

My Characters: Leonore Dietrich, Yumi/Charlie, August Derrick, Wolf Dietrich, Osprey Davis, Griffin Dietrich, Célestine Albine, Hunter, Leandro Cillian Otto Constantine of Eden, Arlette, Bailey, Devon, Neo, Tai, Astro/a, Zadkiel, Sparky, Skinner, Adam

[strawberrychillers]

🖤🦇welcome 2 my blog🦇🖤

I’m Gabriel. I go by a variety of names but that’s what I use to introduce myself. I love horror, varieties of dark media, monsters, all kinds of shit. All that along with some other fun stuff.

Here’s what to refer to me as: masculine or feminine variants of the name “Gabriel” (Gabriel, Gabe, Gabby, Brielle, Bri, etc), Prospero (Perry), Valentina (Val, Tina)

I’m trans! 🏳️‍⚧️ (genderfluid!!)

I’m omnisexual (female pref)

I’m hispanic

IMPORTANT!

I am a minor aged (15-16), don’t be a creep. Thanks.

I happen to be neurodivergent. I’m hella sensitive to text-tone and I have a habit to take things like jokes literally. Tone tags are always helpful for me.

I have a girlfriend! (Love u girlie 💜)

ABOUT ME

LIKES: Art, character designing, writing, character writing, story writing, music, singing, acting, theatre, video games, horror, monsters, ghost/cryptid hunting, urban exploring, pro wrestling, monster trucks, cars, motorcycles, animatronics, etc

DISLIKES: Certain food textures, when people repeat themselves too much (kind of a hypocrite since I have vocal stims 😭), vacuuming, a lot of bugs (though I find them cool, just don’t wanna be around some of those fuckers)

HORROR FANDOMS: Classic slasher films (ft13, scream, halloween, etc…) and really any other horror film, analog horror (twf, mc, ghe, etc…), universal monsters, brainrot mascot horror (ex: FNaF, BATIM, Tattletail), other horror games! (ex: DBD, Resident Evil, Silent Hill) a variety of horror associated television shows (ex: AHS, Hannibal, Supernatural, anything Mike Flanagan), tons of vampire media (ex: WWDITS, IWAV, Buffy), Creepypastas (including roblox myths!)

NON HORROR FANDOMS: CoD, TLO, TWD (kind of horror?), GTA, TMNT, Fallout, Deltarune + Undertale, Newgrounds, Regretevator, Homestuck, Invader Zim, Villainous, DC comics and Movies, MLP, South Park, Sonic, Rockafire, etc

MUSIC: Misfits, Iron Maiden, Pantera, Black Sabbath, Rob Zombie, Nirvana, Pink Floyd, RHC, Sublime, Will Wood, Tally Hall + Miracle Musical, Chappell Roan, Rico Nasty, Tyler The Creator, Childish Gambino, Ben Folds, Beach House, Siouxise and The Banshees, Depeche Mode, Bauhaus, Marina and The Diamonds, Melanie Martinez. (A LOT more, just wanted to hit some big ones)

5 FACTS ABOUT ME:

My favorite color is purple (This changes a lot tbh)

My favorite food is sushi

My favorite animals are bats, hyenas, pigs, possums, and rats

I have glasses.

DNI: Proshippers or Anti-Proshippers (you guys both suck), Nazis, Zionists, Terfs Alfred’s Playhouse, NSFW/18+ accounts (seriously go away), Anti Therian, Anti Neos and Xenos, Anti agere and petre

FREE PALESTINE 🍉

Feel free to say hi or whatever! Love to talk!

[feraldogbites]

(amanda fix, cis woman,  she / her ) LEE HARPER   :   the  21  year  old  resident  that's  been  around  the  SEA CLIFF MARINA  for  FOUR YEARS.  when  the  infected  swarmed  the  streets  the  first  night,  lee  really  proved  how  AMBITIOUS +  ENTHUSIASTIC  they  were.  however,  many  would  argue  that  they  can  also  be  quite  ACERBIC  +  IMPETUOUS.  five  years  has  passed  since  their  old  life  ended  and  the  new  one  began,  developing  skills  that  have  helped  them  become  a  RAIDERA  within  their  group.  it  makes  sense  to  see  them  thriving  at  the  job  because  of  their  refusal to die and bow & arrows.

𝙗𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙨 …

name. lee riley harper. nicknames. lee - lee ( will add with time ). age. twenty - one. gender, pronouns. cis woman, she / her. dob.  9th of september. pob.  somewhere around denver, colorado. sexuality. lesbian. role. baby raider. weapon of choice.  bow and arrows.

𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙨 …

height. 163 cm ( 5'3 ). hair style. currently dyed black with purple - ish highlights on the end. it's a very self - made look, but well taken care of. eyes. hazel. doe eyed. tattoos. poorly done stick - n - poke tattoos of various cartoon characters all over her body. it is a miracle she did not catch an infection yet. piercings. standard lobes, does / does not wear them. depending on her mood. fc. amanda fix.

𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 …

mother.  nina ( dead ). father. unknown. siblings. older brother and sister. ( presumed dead. )

𝘣𝘪𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘺 …(tw of something, not sure what, ask to tag !)

𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 …

trailer park kid. bred, born and raised to a poor, but tight - knit community of mostly elders and single mothers. childhood was not lavish, though peaceful, given the circumstances, and happy.

problems have arisen with entering puberty. perhaps the hormones or the bullying or maybe both combined or third secret thing, made her act out. lee became very rebellious, ran away often. arguments between her and her mother were war - like. broken furnite, scratchy throats, tears and swollen eyes. the two did not get along at all. she blamed her mother for their father leaving the family. just your regular - ish teenage behavior.

𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 …

lee was sixteen when the world ended. sixteen and a teenage runaway in a chaos filled streets.

by the time she got home, her mother was turned, and lee mortified could not do anything. so she ran.

she survived like a stray dog, feeding off the bits and pieces found in looted stores, stealing from poorly protected settlements.

a year into the apocalypse, rikter hoffman has saved her from an unforunate situation and she has been part of the sea cliff marina ever since.

considered a raider, lee does not quite has what would be expected of such a role, but she can be feral if needed.

has a mutt named barkley.

visuals. musings. headcanons. threads. connections.

[frodothefair]

Here are a few things I want to have happen to Marina and Elijah in Expats, which, inspired by Everything is Illuminated, is going to include a road trip through rural Ukraine, possibly to hide out at the family cabin.

-- Fun bit of trivia: Elijah Wood had to get a motorcycle license for his role as a teenager in Deep Impact, because one of the scenes required him to ride a motorcycle down a stretch of highway. Presumably, he still remembers how to do it, even if it's been a while and even if his license is no longer valid. This might tie in nicely into a scenario of "we're in the middle of nowhere and our car broke down and the nice man who is essentially the only one in this town and has worn the same hat for ten years has only a motorcycle to lend us." And when Elijah questions what to do if he's stopped and asked for his license, which he doesn't have on him and which is probably expired, he's told that 1) there's like one police officer for the entire county, and 2) in the unlikely scenario you are stopped, just give them a bribe and be done.

-- A rural location that includes the following piece of directions: "Drive until you can't drive anymore, and then get out and walk." (which kind of begs the question of what do you do with your car, do you just abandon it and is it going to be ok, but that's another story). Granted, this is a little more likely to happen in rural Russia than in rural Ukraine because the distances are greater, but I just think this is everything when it comes to rural locations. Bonus points for a dying village where there are more houses than residents, and the only reason Marina's family still has the cabin is because, in that remote location, you can't give real estate away, nobody wants it.

-- a joke about the fact that "Marina" means "boat parking lot." Possibly one of Elijah's friends/costars is fond of this joke. AhemDomAhem.

@from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @konartiste, @konjugaltdien I am tagging you because I've realized this is basically modern day LOTR/FoM in some ways - innocent, blue-eyed person flees a great peril with the love of his life.

[julianxhawthorne]

Julian had been restless. His mind had been spinning and yet been completely blank ever since that blasted doctor's appointment. His foremost concern had been Verity, who had undergone a traumatic ordeal but he had respected her desire to be alone after he had dropped her off at her place. He had stood by the parking lot near the marina but hadn't yet found the will to exit the vehicle and get on board. Instead after a good solid hour he decided to text his baby brother to ask if he was home and drove off as soon as he got a reply. He was one of the few people he didn't need to pretend with when things were bad, and he had been one of a slightly smaller circle he had told about the appointment today. He was completely drained by the time he stood at the front door of Simon's residence, ringing the doorbell. The moment he looked up at his brother, he offered him a tiny uncharacteristic smile. It was the most he could muster in that moment. "Care for a beer?" @simonheywood

[beardedmrbean]

Burglars have been raiding yachts and houseboats in the Oakland-Alameda Estuary in a surge of one resident compared to the pirate movie “Captain Phillips.”

They steal anything of value, then either sink the ships or dump the remnants of plundered boats miles away in the Oakland Harbor or along its shorelines, said Dan Hill, who lives on his boat like many other families in the 800-foot waterway.

Each “attack” can cost the owner thousands to tens of thousands of dollars, Hill said.

Some in the tight-knit boating community have talked of arming themselves as jurisdiction question marks and eroding law enforcement staffing levels complicate the issue. 

“It’s probably the most popular boating area in San Francisco Bay,” Hill told Fox News Digital of the Alameda side of the estuary. “The weather’s great. It’s a lovely little place that the people love going to. It’s protected. It’s beautiful.”

But since the summer, he and many other residents believe the homeless encampments in and around Oakland overtook the estuary and wreaked havoc on their daily lives.

“We’re in this little, lagoon area, where the water comes in. There’s a condo complex, beautiful parks,” Hill said. “We started to see homeless people camping out there. That’s never happened before.

“That being said, these guys are finding old abandoned boats, stealing them, and anchoring out illegal boats. And they’re taking dinghies (small recreational boats) and riding around and stealing s–t off people’s boats.”

Hill described his personal run-in with some of the harbor bandits after he chased them across the harbor. 

“Our friend confronted this guy because he looked super suspicious, and he called me and said they are coming your way,” Hill said. “We saw him come by, and I jumped in my dinghy with my wife, and we chased him. 

“He was much faster than us. We lost him. Turns out it was the boat stolen from the Alameda Community Sailing Center, which had four boats stolen from them.”

Alameda police’s response to thefts

Alameda Police Chief Nishant Joshi said his department is taking a “regional approach” by partnering with Oakland PD and the Coast Guard, which has a base in the Oakland-Alameda Estuary, to increase patrols and crack down on these crimes.

“In the waterways, it’s very difficult to draw a line,” Joshi told Fox News Digital in an interview Monday. “There are no roadways or fence lines, so we all have a shared interest, much like crime as a whole, to deal with this as a regional approach.”

The partnerships are vital, the police chief said, because Alameda doesn’t have its own marine unit and lost about 30% of its police department from years of attrition.

While they replenish their ranks, Alameda Police are working with Oakland PD, which has a marine unit, to make sure there are eyes on the area around the clock.

“We have officers that are trained to handle marine patrols, and we stepped up a standing additional patrol in our marinas,” Joshi said.

Where are the bandits coming from? 

The city of Alameda is an island with a population of just under 80,000 and is rated as one of the best suburbs to live in, according to niche.com.

“Living in Alameda offers residents an urban suburban mix feel, and most residents rent their homes,” niche.com says. “In Alameda, there are a lot of bars, restaurants, coffee shops, and parks … The public schools in Alameda are highly rated.”

It’s a stark contrast to its neighboring city of Oakland, which is where many residents believe the thieves are coming from.

The city has been crippled by an “exploding” homeless crisis that a neighborhood advocate told Fox News Digital in a previous interview had made it “unlivable.” 

Hill said going from Alameda to Oakland is “like stepping into a third-world country.”

Joshi said he didn’t know for sure if that’s the case, but he’s heard that theory from many residents.

“We’ve not done a deep dive into identifying what particular group in society is committing these crimes,” Joshi said. 

“But I do think that certainly that anyone who is in a challenged position will turn to crime when they’re desperate.”

Results of the crackdown

There isn’t enough information to statistically show what effects the increased patrols and crackdown have had.

Joshi said he believes there was a recent arrest on the Oakland side but none on the Alameda side. 

The Oakland PD didn’t return Fox News Digital’s calls and emails for more information and interview requests. 

Hill said he hasn’t personally seen the increased patrols, but the theft “seems like it’s calmed down a bit.”‘

But it took months of table pounding at municipal meetings, letters and calls to officials, and amplifying their voices through social media and news outlets to get to this point.

Hill, who moved to Alameda with his family a few years ago, said it was a hassle to get law enforcement involved at first.

It was a “frustrating” situation for months. 

[brightstvrlights]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘 : 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘;

❝ The prettiest in-crowd that you had ever seen, Ribbons in our hair and our eyes gleamed mean... ❞

❥ welcome to marina, charlotte kennedy ( cisfemale, she/her ) ! they are a twenty-seven year old baby vampire who resides in marina heights. They work as an event planner/socialite and are said to look a lot like josephine langford. People around the island find them to be +sophisticated and +magnetic, but also -petulant and -manipulative. what do you think?

Full Name: Charlotte Rosamund Kennedy

Age: 27

Date Of Birth: 3 November 1997

Zodiac: Scorpio

Parents: Geoffrey & Pamela Kennedy

Siblings: None

Orientation: Heterosexual

Occupation: Event planner/socialite

Languages: English

Positive: Sophisticated, magnetic, candid, affluent

Negative: Petulant, manipulative, pretentious, judgemental

BACKSTORY

Charlotte was born into the cushioned comforts of the Kennedy family, a legacy household in Marina whose lineage dated back to the founders of the island.

The only child of Geoffrey and Pamela, Charlotte grew up amongst wealth she couldn't quite understand but loved nonetheless, wearing her silver spoon status like a proud badge. As a child she was labelled precocious and spoiled by nannies that she loved to slyly torment, always pleading innocence through widened blue eyes when her parents questioned her.

From adolescence to teenhood, Charlotte never had to work too hard for anything. Whatever she wanted she was given, and if it wasn't, a tantrum usually saw to it. Her parents would have sooner see her quiet and satisfied than causing trouble for them or acting out in public.

School was a social gathering more than a place to learn, however she kept a respectable GPA to keep her parents placated and happy: they'd inadvertently set up an image-for-wealth trade service agreement that Charlotte was all too happy to adhere to as long as the newest Jimmy Choos appeared in her closet every season. She held spots on the cheerleading team (head in her senior year), the planning committee, the yearbook committee and the dance team.

It had been a childhood dream of hers to be a ballerina, and while she'd attended classes since she was a child, her nonchalance towards working hard saw her miss out on a spot with the American Ballet Theatre when she was seventeen. She had been told that she was too green and to come back a year later. It was the first firm no she'd ever heard in her life, and the humiliation was so bitter that she threw her pointe shoes in the trash on the way out and then followed suit with her leotards when she got home.

College of some kind was still expected of her, and she begrudgingly chose to study event planning for the pure fact that she'd somewhat enjoyed planning events for Marina prep. With a large amount of strings pulled by her father, Charlotte was accepted into Brown University and came to find she was actually talented at it. It seemed that a job where she could control everything and boss others around was perfect for the privileged princess.

After graduation, Charlotte moved to New York and set up a life for herself; picture perfect along with a cookie cutter fiancee. The image was marred however when she was snapped drunkenly hooking up with someone who very much wasn't him at an afterparty. Her infidelity sent ripples through the Kennedy bloodline, and even at the age of twenty-seven, abided by her parents when they told her to come back home to Marina. Her job paid well, but not that well.

Her life truly wouldn't fall apart until she was out on a late night walk through Birdsong Park, eyes teary from the utter weight of humiliation that seemed to follow her around now. Blurred vision along with the impairment of nightfall meant that Charlotte couldn't quite make out the other figure that joined her in darkness, and before she'd have time to react or cry out, a sharp pain to the side of her neck would be the last thing she'd remember before she died.

Now freshly turned, Charlotte is confused, bewildered, volatile and above all else: hungry.

HEADCANONS

TBA

[demidevildiva]

welcome to marina, GUADALUPE CONTRERAS ( nonbinary, they/them ) ! they are a TWENTY FIVE year old ANGEL who resides in HYLAND PARK. They work as a/an YOUTH PASTOR AT OUR LADY OF SORROWS and are said to look a lot like FIONA PALOMO. People around the island find them to be NURTURING and PASSIONATE, but also DISORGANIZED and IMPATIENT. what do you think?

TW: religion

𐦍 VERSE UPDATE 𐦍

Name: Guadalupe "Lupita" Contreras Birthdate: May 21st [ adopted ] Sexuality: Unknown Specie: Angel Occupation: Youth Pastor at Our Lady of Sorrows Birth Place: N/A Residence: Hyland Park Height: 5'3" Definable Marks/Tats: Rose on the inside of her upper arm

[ background ]

Guadalupe was placed on earth two years ago to balance out the number of demons to angels upon the world. There is no 'before' for them only what is now and will be from this moment forward.

Knowing what their mission on this world is, they took it upon themselves to gain employment in a church to be able to shape and guide young minds in the path of their savior.

While there was no Lupita before, their now has become a joyous and desired one. Learning the ways of the world, the people, and their customs over the last few years made it easy for them to simulate and blend in as one of their own.

There was no learning of their own power and abilities, as their celestial being was conscious through eternities. Their existence on this place was young though - in comparison with other angels - and this meant controlling and fully understanding their emotions would take some time.

[ headcanons ]

Is very robotic at first encounters but gradually adapts their personality as they assess the individual

Can most always be seen carrying a bible around filled with tabs and a journal with scriptures of their own

Tends to read people's minds by accident because they often forgets that other's can't communicate telepathically

Is easily fascinated by most mortal things and yet confused at the same time

They live in an outhouse at the church [ Lady of Sorrows ]

[ wanted connections ]

Friends of course, all types

Other coworkers from the church, or people whom they've met there

Neighbors they've ran into as they wonder the grounds

[stigmvtas-archived]

TALES OF HOLLOWAY — ASTER DAHLIA.

welcome to marina, ASTER HOLLOWAY ( nonbinary, they/them ) ! they are a TWENTY EIGHT year old WITCH (CRADLE) who resides in TOWER HILL. They work as a BOTANIST / MAGIC DEALER and are said to look a lot like LIV HEWSON. People around the island find them to be SAGACIOUS and MAVERICK, but also DOMINEERING and SPLENETIC. what do you think?

CONTENT WARNING FOR WILDFIRES, PARENTAL/FAMILIAL DEATH, GRIEF, ILLNESS, AND (MAGIC) ADDICTION.

profile.

full name — aster dahlia holloway.

nickname(s) — n/a; no nickname required - is anti nickname & will not respond to anything other than their own name.

date of birth & age — april 1st, 1996. twenty8.

gender / pronouns — nonbinary. they/them.

sexuality — gay<3.

typing — witch ( cradle ).

occupation — botanist, potioneer, & underground dealer of plants both of magical and poisonous properties. owner of narcissus' den under pseudonym of same name. opium harvester. girl fucker.

astrology — aries sun, virgo moon, capricorn ascending.

interests — plants of all nature. potion crafting. sudden strokes of genius. finance books and keeping a tight grip over what is theirs. revenge, vengeance, retribution, spite, etc.

aversions — cops. cop - adjacents. "i can fix them" motherfuckers. overfamiliarity in intimate moments. industrialists. fleeting moments of doubt and a guilty conscious.

next in queue — officer that's not mine! by sorry mom; the scratch by 7 year bitch; moaning lisa smile by wolf alice.

notable features — a full - freckled face and a permanently set frown. wiry red hair that's possibly never been brushed. toned arms and skin littered with miscellaneous scars.

general disposition — a held high head that screams insane levels of arrogance, sneers instead of smiles.

last known location — up and personal with a burlesque dancer from pearl's in the alleyway outside their dressing room, mouths red and hands firmly gripped along thigh - aka being a slut.

scrying mirror & kindred — billy butcher ( the boys ), dr. gregory house ( house, md ), steven hyde ( that 70's show ), ruth langmore ( ozark ), april ludgate ( parks & recreation ).

brief history.

born to dahlia verbeck, a local botanist, wildlife conservationist, and volunteer firefighter who was very known in marina's environmentalist scene alongside her twin brother, darius. the two were a team together, witches and scientists who sought to preserve marina's flora and fauna from the destruction of their environment.

aster's father was rarely in the picture - dahlia married at 19 to a man near twice her age, a local cop who never understood dahlia or her passions and left once he realized that there was no controlling her, or their child - who'd grown up to become a splitting image of dahlia.

they never minded maverick, their father, being absent - dahlia was enough of a parent to fill in the "gaps" and aster never wanted anything more except to follow in their mother's footsteps - she'd always been their idol, the one person they could look up to.

wildfire / parental / familial death; when aster was 12, dahlia and darius embarked on a trip into marina's woodlands to observe local flora, collect samples, and conduct a few of their own experiments when seemingly out of nowhere - a wildfire broke out. it took four days and the entire fire department to stop the fire before it spread - and no sign of dahlia or darius except for his wedding ring, and the burnt remnants of their campsite.

maverick took no interest in taking in aster after that - consumed in his own grief despite the abandonment - and darius' wife took aster in instead. she, elaine, convinced she could not grieve under these circumstances - took aster and her daughter, myra, and moved to california. as far away as she could think to take them - away from all the pain of the past.

she tried to occupy their time with the same extracurriculars and hobbies that she had put myra in since early childhood - but aster wasn't graceful like their cousin; and they clashed time after time again.

aster ran away when they were seventeen - after years of tension and arguments, and feeling more isolated and alone than ever. myra could adapt to the situation - could adapt to anything life threw at her, but aster missed home. missed their mother. missed marina.

upon arriving to marina for the first time in years - aster was broke, a high school drop out, and fending for themselves with nowhere to go when they met mother aveira, the coven mother of lune di ecate. she lured aster in with promise of power - of retribution and strength, and aster listened to every word. passed every trial - saddled themselves right besides mother aveira and would've followed her every word.

but it wasn't what it seemed - the coven; and with the more power aster gained, the more energy they felt seeping out of them. the sicker they felt - drained at the expense of the magic flowing through their veins. an argument ensued - and aster broke their contract with hecate - or was it mother aveira? - and left the coven after five years.

now - after years of working under questionable figure to questionable figure and doing anything in their power to find strength of their own - aster's made a career and name for themselves in a few ways. involving a secret "underground" greenhouse, potions and poisons, and their own lucrative drug business. but they're still mad - still angry. still looking for answers.

facts & temperaments.

a cradle witch - aster was born into a long bloodline of witches: the verbecks. like their mother, aster's magic focuses on organic life - mostly plants. mostly.

illness; their father's sick in the hospital, but they've yet to visit him. he has a new family now - and aster can't bring themselves to feel pity. he left them - not the other way around.

(magic) addiction; after years of overusing their magic as a means of survival - aster's now heavily reliant on it. the less they use their magic, the more severe the effects of it seems to be, leading to constant use and constant exhaustion. their magic - once strong - is slowly waning and losing its potency, and aster feels sicker by the day.

they inherited dahlia's estate after her passing - but they reside in tower hill and still haven't been able to go back to their childhood home. it's been untouched ever since - except for the greenhouse, the only place aster dares to escape to and the secluded place where they grow their plants and supply.

strong environmentalist - cares more about the state of marina's flora and fauna than actual people and it's obvious in the way aster regards others.

a naturally harsh, brutish person who doesn't bother with formalities or beating around the bush. painfully honest and doesn't care much about the problems of others unless there's a chance of something benefitting them.

passionate about what they love - sometimes to the point of possessiveness but overcritical towards those they don't have a high regard for. thinks mundane problems are above them and tends to look down on other people.

has a pet tarantula named stevie nicks. <3

they opened narcissus' den only a few years ago because they needed a way to both fund their work and gain intel about the important people of marina. it's essentially their very own gossip hub. blackmail auto farm<3

aster's just kind of mean without prompt. doesn't care much for others and is rarely in a committed relationship - likes to keep things casual and at arms length.

but they're smart<3 always thinking ahead. constantly drawing maps out in their brain, always has an idea of what to do next. doesn't do well with idleness and is extremely arrogant.

has gotten top surgery, doesn't bother to hide the scars and thinks they're sexy ngl.

[eclvpses]

introducing; geordi quinn massacre

welcome to marina, GEORDI QUINN MASSACRE ( cis man, he/him ) ! they are a THIRTY-ONE year old WITCH who resides in HYLAND PARK. They work as a MUSIC TEACHER at MARINA HIGH SCHOOL and are said to look a lot like HENRY ZAGA. People around the island find them to be +SANGUINE and +CONSCIENTIOUS, but also -HIGH-STRUNG and -COWARDLY. what do you think?

stats.

name: geordi quinn waldo massacre.

supernatural relation: cradle witch from his father's bloodline.

sexuality: gay.

birthday: march 11.

star sign: pisces.

myer-briggs: isfp.

occupation: music teacher at marina high school.

place of birth: marina island.

last played on spotify: unknown / nth by hozier.

general disposition: nurturing and anxious.

background.

geordi was born to an up-and-coming rock star / legend, and his number one groupie at the time

his mum was only 15 when he was born, she still had a whole childhood she wanted to live, and of course his dad didn’t stick around to do any parenting - he was already having multiple other children with multiple other women - so it resulted in geordi raising his mum more than the other way around

by the time he was a teenager his dad was firmly out of his life, his band finally taking off and leaving behind all the families he’d created and destroyed in the blink of an eye to do world tours

the best thing he ever got from his dad was his little sister olive, her own mum and geordi’s close friends that bonded over their hatred for the man that uprooted their lives without even hesitating or caring

growing up already used to taking care of his mum, geordi didn’t hesitate to help raise his sister too, who he still considers his best friend and is fiercely protective of even tho now she’s more his guardian angel than the other way around (she’s sm cooler and he’s just a loser with anxiety problems)

geordi realized he was a witch at a young age, it became sort of obvious when things around him began to set on fire at the slightest increase of any emotion, but it definitely came as a surprise considering his mum is 100% human with no magic whatsoever, so lo and behold his dad cursed him with something else

he never really gained control over his abilities and therefore gets nervous ever using them

just wanted a normal life for himself - the only similarity geordi would admit to having with his dad was their love, passion, and natural gift towards music, so he took this talent and ran, a music teacher now at one of marina’s public schools

most of geordi’s life was as mundane as it could be and he loved it, until his fiancé lark woke him one night in hysterics, a headache so bad he struggled to speak, walk, basically exist -

a simple slip at work that no one thought anything of had led to a burst aneurysm, he was gone before doctors could even diagnose the issue

geordi waited weeks, but lark never returned to him as a ghost the way he’d hoped, so in a fit of desperation, he turned to his sister and begged her to help him bring lark back - of course olive helped, and while for a week or two at best it seemed like the reanimation spell worked, the malevolence some ghosts possess began to manifest in lark and then some, until he became actively violent, attacking geordi in their home and begging to be put to rest again

geordi doesn’t talk about that particular incident (that took place around two years ago) and he doesn’t talk about lark anymore, and he especially refuses to touch on his magic - probably ever again

details.

he doesn’t actually believe in nicknames, when he introduces himself he says his name’s geordi quinn and will pull a face when people call him geordi, gq, etc. but mostly grin and bears it

his students call him mr. massy, kind of hates the association his last name gives him with his dad and frankly doesn’t particularly think it. appropriate for his students to go around saying Massacre 24/7

he’s developed a barbarically keen sense of mind-reading from growing up and talking to olive in their heads, sometimes a flash of someone’s inner thoughts will go through his mind and he hates it but it’s uncontrollable

just. an awkward anxious fool LKSDHGKLHSDGHSDGLKH he means well but he never rly got to be a kid and had a life of tragedy, he just doesn’t know how to relax rly

there’s been hook up and dating attempts since lark, but he wasn’t much of a Hook Ups person before his fiancé and he is Far from it now, and dating just hurts a bit bless his heart

so grossly loving and nurturing its definitely got him hurt in the past, putting all his attention and trust into people who didnt deserve it / didn’t reciprocate but it hasn’t stopped him from doling out all his kindness

a loser pathetic pushover frankly</3

connections.

he’s lived in marina his whole life so friends!!! childhood friends, teacher friends, just friends from any walk of life rly i need it all

exes from before lark perhaps/first love situation??

friends of olive’s he sees as siblings / family too :)

awkward hook up attempts as of recent or in the past…….

also dates. he’s tried to go on n it failed OR

dates that went well n he got anxious about feeling something?? :eyes:

ppl who know of his dad, this connection cld go anywhere rly but some juicy ideas could come from his painfully loserish lame ass dad n screwing over more ppl in town etc.

i’d love to see lark’s family?? we can talk over whether geordi is still close w them or if their relationship is more strained after lark’s passing</3

anything else that anyone wants :D

[ericgunther]

Palm Beach Island Takes Over as the Top Ultra-High-Net -Worth Property Market in the United States!

“Palm Beach is a niche market that consistently has the highest concentrations of appropriate properties and lifestyle for ultra-high-net-worth individuals,” says Eric Gunther President of Greenfield Waters Florida Realty on Worth Avenue Palm Beach.

Ultra-high-net-worth “UHNW”, is a level of ultra-luxury residential properties that trade for $50,000,000 or more. The market for these eight and nine-figure estates has significantly increased in the past ten years. 

New York, the Hamptons, Malibu, Los Angeles, Aspen, and Miami have all seen a sudden and profound transformation in the value of the most coveted properties. But nowhere in the U.S. compares to the small Island of Palm Beach which currently has 13 properties listed for sale asking over $50,000,000. This 16 mile long barrier island is a fraction of the size of its UHNW market peers, making the concentration of luxury real estate sales staggering over the comparatively small area. 

Over the last year of 2023, Florida’s two most expensive home sold on Palm Beach Island.  $170,000,000 was in first place at 589 North County Road Palm Beach, FL 33480 and $155,000,000 in second place at 1495 North Ocean Boulevard Palm Beach 33480 combined into a compound with 108 Mediterranean Road Palm Beach, FL 33480.

As the balance in middle market property prices and interest rates struggle to find common ground across the general U.S., solid activity in the Florida market and in the UHNW market of Palm Beach is understandable for emotional reasons but also backed by qualitative data. 

Buyers of properties in excess of several million dollars aren’t as affected by volatility in interest rates or the stock market like other buyers. Often paying in cash versus financing, these buyers see their real estate as tangible assets to be enjoyed but also bought, sold, and traded at the right times. 

Meanwhile, just across the Intracoastal waterway, select bordering neighborhoods of West Palm Beach are becoming “Palm Beach Island adjacent” with sales in excess of several million dollars being very normal.  Areas in West Palm such as Marina Park, El Cid, Howard Park, Phipps Park, and South of Southern (SOSO) are emerging in a very big way. As major financial firm and accompanying industries such as consulting, accounting, legal, and more keep moving to West Palm Beach, we expect these neighborhoods to continue growing in value and the beautification of Mediterranean revival and modern styled new construction homes. 

Palm Beach owners naturally enjoy the warm winters of our busiest season, when residents with multiple homes return for the climate. Many visitors come prepared to shop for real estate during this season making it ripe to sell for more. Spring and summer balance out the year as owners often list after enjoying a last winter season and demand to buy exits all year long in the Florida UHNW market. Typically, buyers even appreciate the downtime after buying so they can renovate and bring in the finest upgrades and décor of their personal choice which can take time after buying. 

This year more incredible properties are on the market and selling for more than anywhere else in the United States. Currently, the Island’s most expensive listing is 2.3 oceanfront vacant acres of land listed at $200,000,000 at 1063 and 1071 North Ocean Boulevard Palm Beach, FL 33480. They have 360 feet of width across the beachfront which is a rare luxury opportunity on The Island. These are owned by cosmetics heir William Lauder who listed the land on the market after buying the late Rush Limbaugh’s property. Both properties were torn down to achieve their amplified land value together. 

Traditionally, Palm Beach was perceived as a multigenerational closed circle. Today, this is no longer the case and sellers are aware of the vibrant new audience which needs to be reflected and focused on for marketing and advertising to sell a property of these price points in the economy of today. The Island does still maintain the exclusivity of high society, yet it's much more inclusive of people from a broader range of affluence, industries, and backgrounds which is very healthy.   

Here are five of our favorite finest properties on the market as of today on Palm Beach Island:

10 Tarpon Isle Palm Beach, FL 33480

Listed for $187,500,000

www.greenfieldwaters.com/search/details/1j5/0/

In 2021, Todd Glaser and his business partners made waves in the real estate world by acquiring the 2.3acre man-made Tarpon Island for a $85,000,000. After an extensive renovation, showcasing their commitment to luxury and opulence, they listed the island in 2022 for an eye-opening $218,000,000. Taking a strategic pause from the market which created incredible desire from real estate buyers, Glaser reentered the fray in November with an adjusted price. Originally designed by Howard Majors in 1930, the mansion underwent a dramatic transformation under Glaser's vision. Its footprint doubled to nearly 24,000 square feet, now boasting 11 bedrooms, 15 bathrooms, and 7 half-bathrooms. The property is a veritable oasis, featuring two pools, a dock, a lighted tennis court, a cold plunge, steam room, sauna, salon parlor, massage room, gym, and a catering kitchen. This embodiment of luxury living epitomizes the pinnacle of exclusivity and grandeur.

101 Jungle Road Palm Beach, FL 33480

Listed for $59,950,000

www.greenfieldwaters.com/search/details/1j9/0/

The oceanfront mansion of the late Gerald and Elaine Schuster has emerged on the market. Gerald Schuster, renowned as the founder and CEO of Continental Wingate, a prominent real estate investment and development firm now recognized as the Wingate Companies, leaves behind a legacy of industry excellence. Notably, the Schusters shared a longstanding friendship with political powerhouses, adding to the allure of their estate. Constructed in 1955 on a sprawling 0.9 acre plot along Jungle Road, the mansion encompasses an impressive 10,000 square feet, comprising 5 bedrooms and 8 bathrooms, according to property records. The price reflecs its prime oceanfront location spanning 200 feet of beachfront. With its rich history and unparalleled coastal charm, this estate represents a rare opportunity for discerning buyers seeking a slice of coastal luxury intertwined with prestige and influence.

315 Chapel Hill Road Palm Beach, FL 33480

Listed for $59,500,000

www.greenfieldwaters.com/search/details/1ja/0/

This waterfront estate, formerly owned by the late William Flaherty is an incredible property. Flaherty, a notable figure in the business world for founding the Horsehead Corporation, now recognized as American Zinc Recycling based in Pittsburg, passed away last year, leaving behind a remarkable legacy. Built in 1987 upon 0.8 acres of prime waterfront land, the estate boasts a 5,600 square foot main house adorned with 4 bedrooms, 6 bathrooms, and 1 half-bathroom, along with a charming 3,300 square foot guest house featuring 4 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. With its enviable position spanning 200 feet along the picturesque Intracoastal Waterway, this property presents an unparalleled opportunity for luxurious coastal living.

200 S Ocean Boulevard Palm Beach, FL 33480

Listed for $59,000,000

www.greenfieldwaters.com/search/details/1jn/0/

Earlier this month, David and Becky Gochman just listed their stunning oceanfront parcel. David Gochman's entrepreneurial journey includes the successful sale of his family's renowned sporting goods empire, Academy Sports & Outdoors, to the private equity firm KKR for a staggering $2,100,000,000 in 2011, as reported by Forbes. Following this achievement, he established Inclenberg Investments, based in Palm Beach, in 2012. The Gochmans' connection to luxury real estate began in 2014 when they acquired the South Ocean Boulevard property for $15,400,000 million, according to records. Demonstrating their commitment to refinement and elegance, they embarked on the construction of a new residence on the expansive 0.9 acre parcel in 2018. The resulting masterpiece spans 5,800 square feet, boasting 6 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms, and 1 pool, offering an unparalleled blend of coastal splendor and modern luxury.

690 Island Drive Palm Beach, FL 33480

Listed for $52,900,000

www.greenfieldwaters.com/search/details/1jo/0/

Situated on the picturesque Everglades Island, Diana Barrett has unveiled her exquisite waterfront residence, designed by the esteemed Marion Sims Wyeth. Constructed in 1949 on a lush 0.8 acre parcel, the house epitomizes timeless elegance and sophistication. Spanning 6,300 square feet, the residence boasts 4 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, 1 half-bathroom, and 1 luxurious pool. Notably, Barrett's illustrious background includes tenure as a former professor, while her husband, Bob Vila, is renowned as the star of the beloved renovation show "This Old House." Furthermore, demonstrating their affinity for Palm Beach's charm, the couple recently acquired a 4,300 square foot house for $12,500,000 million in December, further solidifying their connection to the area's prestigious real estate landscape.

About Greenfield Waters Florida Realty

When it comes to navigating the intricate world of luxury real estate, Eric Gunther and Greenfield Waters Florida Realty located on Worth Avenue Palm Beach stand out as the premier choice for buyers and sellers alike. With a profound understanding of the market dynamics and a specialization in properties exceeding several million dollars, Greenfield Waters and their Realtors possess the intelligence, sophistication, and unwavering commitment necessary to cater to the discerning needs of high net worth individuals. Whether it's meticulously scouting for the perfect property or orchestrating seamless transactions, Greenfield Waters ensures a tailored experience that exceeds expectations, making him the trusted ally in Palm Beach's elite real estate realm.

Are you curious what your Florida property may be worth right now?  Feel free to try our complimentary special Florida specific valuation instantly online at https://www.greenfieldwaters.com/home-value/

Here to advise as always, 

Eric Gunther

President – Broker – Realtor

561-400-8474

eric.gunther@greenfieldwaters.com

Greenfield Waters

Florida Realty

205 Worth Avenue #125

Palm Beach, FL 33480

www.greenfieldwaters.com

Thank you for sharing our blog posts, articles and for your referral business! 

[plantfeed]

welcome to marina, EMILIA ‘MIMI’ MARTÍNEZ ( cis-woman, she/her ) ! they are a TWENTY-SEVEN  year old who has lived on the island for THREE YEARS. word on the street is they’re currently living in HYLAND PARK and works as a REALITY TV STAR & COSMETICS SALESWOMAN FOR A MULTI LEVEL MARKETING SCHEME. everyone also says they look a lot like ALEXA DEMIE. what do you think? — NORA, 27, she/her, GMT. pinterest. blog tag.

STATS.

NAME: Emilia Rosa María Martínez. NICKNAMES:  Mimi. AGE:   twenty-seven. (to the media she’s twenty-four) GENDER & PRONOUNS: cis woman, she/her. OCCUPATION:  reality TV star (was on love island) and sells cosmetics for a multi-level marketing scheme (kerri in this country in her pyramid scheme power suit JSDGHKJGS), but is determined to become an actress, or at the very least an influencer. basically just wants to stay in the limelight. ARCHETYPES:  the attention whore, the insta-famous, the future trophy wife, the femme fatale, the homewrecker, the gold-digger. ZODIAC: gemini sun, virgo moon, scorpio rising. RESIDENCY: hyland park (in her abuela's house). originally from boulder city. TATTOOS: ‘lucky you’ on her hip bone (tacky, but she got it at 16 when it seemed pretty renegade). ‘work bitch’ along her index finger

AESTHETICS.

von dutch. a strappy cami top that says ‘please do not do coke in the bathroom’. low-waisted jeans that show off your belly button piercing. acrylic nails tapping against a heavily embellished second-hand dell laptop. heart shaped sunglasses in every colour. translucent stripper heels with barbie doll heads and plastic spiders in the heel. spraying champagne you can’t afford all over the walls. still talking about your tenth grade performance as anita in west side story, narcotics in a heart shaped locket. an amazon wishlist full of lingerie linked on your tinder profile. wearing a dress bought by your sugar daddy to morning mass.  sex tapes recorded on VCR. a religious devotion to waxing clinics. necking shots like you were born to do it.  a weeping virgin mary statue above the kitchen sink.

CHARACTER REFERENCES.

Gabrielle Solis (Desperate Housewives), Ruby (Sex Education), Fatin (The Wilds),  Jennifer (Jennifer’s Body),  Bianca (10 Things I Hate About You), Beth (Dare Me), Ekin-Su (Love Island, 2022), Megan (Love Island, 2018) Frankie (Too Hot To Handle), Olivia Atwood (Love Island, Getting Filthy Rich),  Stefani (Zola),  Alice (Bodies, Bodies, Bodies)

[ CLICK FOR BACKSTORY & HEADCANONS ]