#no dodgy head-swapping

[silverfoxstole]

BF covers done right. Simpler than many but absolutely friggin’ glorious. Wish they’d stuck with this format. By Rafe Wallbank.

[ranticore]

visored longwing harpies & the hall of faces

I did say there was no exclusive global culture on Siren shared by humans of a certain body type, and I lied, because there is One.

The early settlers on Siren were the unaltered human workforce of a certain megacorporation. While an almost unlimited budget was poured into the dodgy gene programs, since that was why they chose to settle a planet so far out of the reach of The Authorities, everything else was done pretty cheaply, including the settling itself. In order to map out their new home planet, incredibly cheap mass-produced aircraft were used by pilots. These aircraft could be made quickly and easily at the settlement site because they lacked a flight computer or any real sensors - or any equipment at all in the cockpit. Rather than a multitude of different equipment loadouts on an aircraft that would take time and effort to swap out or maintain, the pilots instead used these visors which were universally compatible with the one-size-fits-all aircraft. It's kind of like how it's easier to just carry a phone around with a calculator app than it is to carry a phone and a calculator, even if the phone app calculator experience sucks by comparison.

The visors were the real expensive kit, each custom built to a pilot's exact needs and flight style, and they were built to last. the aircraft fell apart in the following centuries but the visors remained, hyperlight plastic powered by the planet's native star, and something interesting happened. The remains of the first settlement were largely inaccessible to anyone but longwing harpies, and these harpies had the right head shape to fit the visors. Many of the pilots had filled their visors with video and photo files from home, from Earth, like a worker decorating his cubicle with photos of his family. Some had been decorated on the outside, as well, resembling birds. The harpies that found the visors obviously tried to use them. They found themselves experiencing visions of strange worlds, recordings of long-dead pilots and ATC, and found that each visor can interface with every other one, no matter how far apart. Each visor came with its own callsign, its own name, which has remained for thousands of years - and because of this, each visor is considered by the cultures of Siren to be a named character with a distinct personality (eg. the swan visor was cygnus2, it is known now as Signastoo)

I keep posting the map and it needs to be redrawn but essentially every red triangle is an ancient telecomm tower. These became the only remaining waypoints on the visors' HUD and mapping software, meaning that 1. a true global culture could emerge, with longwings gathering at these sites, and 2. visored longwings became the gold standard for navigation on Siren. In a world that is basically just water, that's a big deal.

There exist only a few thousand visors (about 3k I'd say). The unused visors are kept in the Hall of Faces, the ancient aviation bay at the first settlement in West. Because of how water levels and land structures have changed over the years, this building exists on a mesa that rises another few thousand feet out of the water, with sheer sides, and is utterly inaccessible to anyone but a longwing harpy. When a visored harpy dies, the visor is returned here. If you want to claim a visor, you need to hold an interview with one of the elders at the site, who will test you rigorously to see if you can inhabit the character of one of the visors. If not, too bad. If you do get it, it's yours until either you die or you do something considered 'out of character' for the wearer of that particular visor. It is DEEPLY discouraged to steal a visor off anyone because it would be largely impossible, given how they all can communicate (imagine a gigantic worldwide discord server where the location & name of every person is known at all times... the drama is likely insane but at least if someone steals a visor, everyone will know about it)

not every longwing desires a visor because it comes with a lot of responsibility alongside its automatic prestige, and you can't really give it up once you have it. also there's always the possibility of being diagnosed with a super annoying, glitchy, or hated visor character lol. but among the roughly 2700 visored harpies on Siren there does exist a global culture exclusive to them. they chat to one another long-distance, engage in closed-practice ceremonies where they all get high and look at videos of Earth, and essentially become a class outside the mundanity of normal life on Siren. to the rest of the population, they basically become telepathic wizards

Terwyef's visor (first pic) is called Scrappercharlee and is one of the more common models, tho it has been decorated over the years with extra bits. Scrappercharlee is a bit busted and half the HUD is missing. Miakef's visor (second pic) Signastoo is one of the very fancy and well-known ones, it's shaped like a swan's head and likely belonged to a high-ranking pilot who could afford a bit of frippery and showmanship back in the day. Birds do not exist on Siren and harpies are mammals so the swan itself is symbolically meaningless, but the bird-style visors introduce the idea of 'a bird' in the abstract, and this has been imbued with its own form of meaning by harpies.

[powderblueblood]

Hiya hiya!! I am a massive fucking fan of your writing it is so stimulating for my little distracted brain. On the topic of hai I would LOVE to know more about Lacy's part-time gig at The Bookstore!!!! How often does she work there? Does Lacy get to set up displays and recommend books? Do Eddie or Ronnie ever hang out with Lacy there? (And subsequently does Ivana threaten to perma-ban them from The Bookstore for being so goddamn loud and distracting her best employee???) I am so fucking curious and would love to see it explored a little more 🧡

LEE!!!! thank you so much for your kind kind words and THANK YOU for giving me an excuse to touch upon one of my favorite little elements of the hellfire & ice universe-- THEE BOOKSTORE

i'll be the first to admit that i don't know a goddamn thing about the TARDIS but what i do know is that it's bigger on the inside. same logic applies to the bookstore. place is an intricate network of atriums and ventricles separated by bookcases that are so overstuffed, they seem like they're going to keel over like dominoes any second. it smells like warm and dust and it's always semi-dark in there, with lamps seemingly having sprung from the ground in the most strategic of places. wall sconces sprout from the woodwork, supported by dodgy, illegal wiring. you take your life in your hands any time you walk in there, essentially. but you'd never know it! because it's serene and it's peaceful until--

lacy starts working there. and for some reason, it seems that lacy, eddie, ronnie and chaos are a package deal. eddie and ronnie use the darkened corners of the bookstore to the full extent of their danger, playing endless games of 'who can scare lacy by hiding in the world history section' which has earned more than one heavy biography of ferdinand magellan being aimed at eddie munson's head.

one even made contact, and eddie insisted that lacy stand there holding an ice cream sandwich to his 'poor brutalized' head because he 'couldn't move his arms' due to the 'concussion'.

ivana, the owner, our beloved ivana, hates these kids. even if eddie is convinced that she's trying to take him as her next controversially young husband-- her fifth. ivana hates them, but never actually follows through on her threatened lifetime bans because ivana also occasionally drinks at the hideout.

a moment for ivana: ivana is so, so fucking cool. ivana used to sell fetish mags in brown paper bags back in the 50s. ivana once lived in new york, and according to legend, threw an olive at norman mailer (eddie: "who?" lacy: "don't worry about it") and it bounced off his head and into andy warhol's drink. ivana is approximately four hundred years old with a platinum blonde beehive, a list of lovers longer than mae west's, a voice like a cement truck and she will never die.

lacy wants to be exactly like her when she grows up-- only, not living in indiana, of course.

ivana has lacy on weekends and some evenings; basically, if her spidey sense tingles and she figures that girl could use something to do. lacy, inflicted with the pathological need to be the best at fucking everything, is a good worker and the best kind of salesperson a place like that could have.

which is to say that she's kind of snooty and derisive of people's pedestrian tastes. it oscillates from customers storming out to customers buying whatever she tells them to, in some misguided attempt to impress her.

precocious and pretentious eighteen year olds have this effect on people. many such cases.

one person it does not have any effect on is eddie munson.

he watches lacy put like, painstaking effort into her staff pick of the week! (she always fights for three) or her display of russian literature ranked by themes of romanticism v nihilism! (the brothers karamazov sits on the top of the display like an angel on a christmas tree)... and then he fucks with it. swaps out a room of one's own with are you there god? it's me, margaret, even if that does prompt lacy giving eddie a keynote speech on the importance of judy blume's forever.

"... and yeah, it's about as thrilling as a slice of wonderbread, but that book is probably why i'm on the pill."

this seems to give eddie pause. "... you're on the pill?"

"what's that look?"

"no, uh-- no, just. good. decision. smart, responsible decision-making. good to... know."

[rainyssafespace]

Hope you’re having a good week so far, I have a lil question for ya! What mod are you using to get Zevlor naked?

Hello! It's always a good week when you've gotten two days in and been bopped by Tumblr already for your antics haha. Hope yours is going just as well!

To get him naked I use a few different mods to either make him as tav or swap him over the other companions.

So I had to check the game to make sure but the mods I use are:

NPC as Tav Preset by Padme4000 - for the head and hair, it also sets the default for male tav mostly to Zev which is awesome (I think this adds his horns as well but I'm not 100% so give me a shout if they aren't there and I can shoot you my dodgy mod that overwrites one of the other horns)

NPC Eye Skin and Hair Colours for Tav also by Padme4000 - for the eyes and his hair colour

Appearance Edit Enhanced by Eralyne - to swap your tav/companions to be him

I think that's everything but do feel free to dm me if you find anything is missing!

Also posting this public so that we can see more naked teiflings around here coz there really aren't enough *nudge nudge*

[sminny-wew]

Self Care (Nettoverse-adjacent side story)

[@dunedragon I initially wasn't gonna expand on this past that one post but it wouldn't leave my head lol]

Some want to see // Those who've gone above Friends that they lost // People they love I'd rather meet // The me down the road To lead me through the fog // Wouldn't ask for more 🎵: "Future People" - Alabama Shakes

Hub didn't know what to make of all this.

It was already unsettling enough to find himself dropped unceremoniously into an endless and seemingly-empty white void, with Megaman nowhere to be found. It was another can of worms entirely to find yourself in the exclusive company of...well, yourselves.

Some of the counterparts he'd encountered so far were humans, like him. Others were navis, and he briefly marveled at the possibility that he could have been the sick child reborn in a virtual world, instead of his brother. One even appeared to be some kind of spirit, which admittedly made him anxious, but at the very least they did not seem outwardly hostile.

But one of these counterparts somehow managed to be both navi and human at once. And it was this one that currently sat in Hub's presence.

Hub sat at one side, his counterpart opposite him a few feet away and attention focused on the Hikari crest necklace in his grasp. Hub's understanding was that this version of himself went by Saito, his navi name being Rockman. Hub didn't have the full details; all he knew for certain was that Rockman had been Netto's (his Lan's) navi until an ancient reality-bending net entity swapped their places, making Netto the navi and Rockman the operator.

Since arriving here (wherever here was, and however long ago that had been; the inability to keep track of time here lowkey unnerved him), Hub noticed that Saito was...distant. When he wasn't interacting with his other counterparts, even then keeping conversations to a cordial minimum, he often seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack, always stopping just short by reminding himself to breathe.

The sight tugged at Hub's heart. Though he himself had never been as prone to panic, he recognized that reservation and isolation. But after everything Hub and Megaman had gone through together, how Hub had grown and changed as a person...

He couldn't bear to watch that silent suffering happen again. So he swallowed his nerves and made the first move. "Saito?"

The other boy jumped at the sound of Hub's voice, clutching his heaving chest and turning to him with green eyes wide and panicked, like a deer in the headlights. It made Hub's heart twinge.

"Um...are you okay?" he continued, pulling down his headphones so that he could hear better.

His grip relaxing against his chest, Saito calmed his breathing before answering. "Y-yes, I-I'm fine."

His eye contact was dodgy. Hub didn't want to pressure Saito, knowing his own history with shyness, but he pushed further. "Are you sure?"

Saito nodded tensely. "Yeah. I'm used to weird situations like these."

Hub's brows furrowed in concern, and, hesitating only for a moment, he reached a hand out to Saito's shoulder. "I-If you want to talk--"

Saito cringed at the touch, and Hub's hand recoiled in shock. Fearful green eyes locked with hurt brown.

What had happened to Saito to make him look at Hub with such...what even was that feeling in his eyes? Fear? Resentment?

Hub's eyes trailed to the side. "I...I'm sorry to bother you." He pulled his headphones back over his ears. "I'll give you your space."

Before Hub could shift to stand up, a hand rested on his shoulder, and now it was his turn to jolt at the sudden physical contact.

"Wait," said Saito, "I'm the one who should be apologizing. It's not your fault. Not you specifically. It's just..."

Saito ran a hand through his bangs as he took a deep breath in, then out. This would be difficult to explain without sounding like a jerk on some level.

"It's still not easy for me to see my face with those eyes," he finally answered, "Without being reminded that I'm not...him." He darted to face Hub, hands anxiously raised. "B-but again, it's not your fault! I'm just..." Saito's gaze fell to his own, unclenched hands. "I guess, even after everything, I'm still tearing down a few of my fences."

Hub cocked his brows. Fences, huh? That certainly rang a bell.

Hub shifted back into a sitting position. "I wasn't trying to pry. I only asked because...the loneliness I saw in you reminded me of how I used to be. Before I met Megaman--my Megaman--I didn't even realize I had a twin brother, though I'd always suspected it. We were only two when it happened, and I never asked my parents about the other boy in our family pictures because I could tell it still hurt them to talk about it, even if they should've just told me. The only other person I had was Maylu, and even then, we weren't as close as we used to be. It wasn't until Lan was reintroduced to me as Megaman, and we started having all these adventures, that things began to change. Maylu and I started talking again, I stopped being scared of Dex and even befriended him and Yai... And I didn't just meet new people, I also got to see so many new places and try new things!"

Hub once again slid the headphones off his ears, pulling them off and holding them in his lap. He gazed at the Hikari crest emblazoned on each earpiece.

"I know our circumstances are different, Saito, but I understand more than you might think."

A silence hung between the two boys for a moment, though the tension of before had gradually begun to disperse. It didn't even really feel like an awkward silence anymore.

It was Saito who spoke first, braving eye contact with Hub.

"I...I'm afraid of ghosts," he began, and Hub nodded, acknowledging their shared phobia. "And I used to worry that, someday, his spirit would come to take back everything I'd stolen: his life, his loved ones, his face... I don't completely feel that way anymore, but..." He paused to let out a sigh, and his eyes trailed down to his hands again. "Sometimes, when I dream, I still find myself wondering what the...original Saito would think of me."

Then, without warning, Saito found himself embraced in a sudden, gentle, warm hug.

"Well, if it's worth anything," said Hub, "I think you're doing great."

The cracked dam burst, and warm tears quickly fell from Saito's eyes. Saito hugged Hub back, his fingers digging into the back of his counterpart's buttoned overshirt as though for dear life. His sobs left him in heaves, and Hub held him the entire time.

At some point, after Saito had finished crying his eyes out, the two boys pulled away from each other and stood up, determined to figure out where they were and find their respective brothers. As they began walking, Hub looked back to Saito.

"You know, I don't think you've told me much about your adventures with your Megaman--Netto, right? Tell me about Torishima. As much as you feel comfortable sharing."

"Well," Saito began, "There's so much that comes to mind: all the textures, the smells, the colors, I don't even know where to begin." He smiled fondly. "But, I guess I could start with the ocean..."

[alianoralacanta]

Paddock Magazine Analysis (13-12-2007)

Context: Following the McLaren/Ferrari spying controversy of 2007, where McLaren eventually lost its 2nd place in the World Constructor's Championship and got a $100 m fine, Max Mosley in his capacity as FIA President did two interviews. The first was for BBC Hardtalk. His performance there was very poor, making it look suspiciously like the FIA's case was weak. More telling was the second interview, with Paddock Magazine. Given that Paddock Magazine was a FIA publication, it was not exactly going to be the height of intentional journalism. However, it provided an excellent demonstration of the FIA's beliefs about the case. When combined with what had been learned in 2007 (from the Hardtalk interview and earlier proceedings of the case), it was incredibly destructive to the FIA's case against McLaren. In combination, it went to the degree of indicating the FIA had a case to answer itself… My understanding of legal issues has evolved since then but I do not believe the FIA's position has correspondingly improved. (The first parts of quotes are bolded, to help put structure to this essay. I've also had to delete the artificial double-spacing that ended up in there for some reason. For the record, if I wanted to double-space an entry, I'd use the double-space function).

Warning! Long entry alert! An annotated guide to the Paddock Magazine interview with Max Mosley. It is the December 2007 edition, and the FIA has given us a handy link.

It is, as the FIA probably hoped, a good guide to the state of Max Mosley's thinking. Let's probe into this resource to find out exactly what the implications are of the interaction between Max's thought processes and what can be ascertained from other sources.

"I think, in the end, the championship went to the right person"

Max has a good point here. Kimi did in fact do the best performance out of the challengers, so it was perfectly sensible for him to have won the prize. It's refreshing to see some sensible opinions from Max.

"Well, I don't think it [the off-track drama] has done any damage - in fact, it has raised public awareness".

Yes, Max - raised it and turned them right off again. Unfortunately, the good initial note didn't last long.

"The only harm would come if people started to believe it [the spying] was endemic and we couldn't stamp it out."

Most people that weren't deeply knowledgeable about F1 before the Ferrari/McLaren mess were not aware that F1 even had spying. Their impression would not have been that stopping spying was good, it would have been "What do you mean, F1 has spying?!?" The people who've been following F1 for a time know that spying at some level is both endemic and, to a certain extent, inevitable. Admittedly, it is not inevitable to the point alleged against either McLaren or Renault, but information transfer between teams is inherant in any industry whose primary value is in the contents of talented people's heads. Formula 1 is demonstrably such an industry.

"I found myself defending McLaren, rather than trying to explain why we'd done what we had to do!"

If the HardTalk interview constituted a defence of McLaren's behaviour, I'm glad the interviewer did not ask Max to attack McLaren, because it looked to me and a number of other people as if Mosley was launching a McLaren attack at the time.

"The whole thing [the Ferrari/McLaren mess] should have been stopped before it started".

Correct. One would have thought that Nigel Stepney and Mike Coughlan would have known their information-swapping behaviour was slightly dodgy before engaging in it. Apparently not (at least in Coughlan's case).

"Ron [Dennis] could have gone to Jean [Todt] immediately after Australia and said: "Look, we asked the FIA about your floor because there's somebody at Ferrari giving us information".

Two problems. One, this was not the FIA's line at the time. For example, Spyker submitted a protest at that very race concerning Super Aguri and Squadra Toro Rosso using a Toro Rosso drawing, which arrived at Spyker by an unknown route (or at least, unknown to people outside the paddock such as me). Nobody from the FIA openly asked Spyker to tell Franz Tost about the drawing (this may have happened quietly, or Colin Kolles may have done the courtesy call on his own initiative, but we don't know either way). The impression that this sort of thing gives is that if the FIA is contacted in such a way that it receives the offending document(s), the opposing team manager need not be (perhaps because the FIA contacts the opposing team manager as a matter of routine in these cases). So what Max is effectively saying is that the FIA's policy was wrong at the time, for if McLaren had known that the FIA policy wouldn't hold six months down the line, it is highly unlikely he would have taken the path of relying on the known FIA procedures to do the appeal. Instead, he would have either informed Jean Todt (if he had known about the Stepney/Coughlan flow and intended to get it stopped) or he would have simply said nothing, and probably not appealed the Ferrari car in Australia at all (if he thought there was only the one document and/or he wanted to attempt to evade notice).

Secondly, there is no particular reason to believe that Jean would have stopped the information flow on Dennis' say-so, especially as it has yet to be proved whether Dennis knew who in the team had received the drawings, let alone whether this person had received the drawing in a legal fashion. For that matter, it isn't even clear that Dennis knew there was a drawing involved - it is entirely conceivable that Coughlan would only have told people verbally about what he knew about the Ferrari floor, and not given away sources. Certainly if I was in Coughlan's position and intended to use this Ferrari information illegally, this is what I would have done. Simply because the drawing was eventually discovered due to Trudy Coughlan stupidly taking some Ferrari CDs to a photocopy shop does not mean that her husband was stupid in his dealings with the material. With hindsight, the truly smart thing to have done would be to take the moral high ground and denounce Stepney as openly and as immediately as possible, but none of us have foresight as good as our hindsight.

"You get the odd person saying that this has always gone on in F1, but that's nonsense".

Er... ...Shadow/Arrows in 1977, anyone? That was the entire (successful) theft of a team's entire intellectual property (IP), back before the term was even invented. Then there's the whole Ferrari/Toyota mess, involving a copious amount of data theft by more than one ex-Ferrari (and now ex-Toyota and presumably ex-F1) employee.

Admittedly, the general backdrop of espionage is on nowhere near as large a scale (the McLaren/Renault mess is probably a run-of-the-mill example among instances of dishonest information transfer). However, the alleged extent of the Ferrari/McLaren mess has precedents.

"There was a constant stream of information for months"

Interestingly enough, this wasn't proven at the WMSC court, though Max would like to pretend it was proven. Having reviewed the relevant portion of the Ferrari/McLaren September case transcript, I have spotted in the preliminaries that the documents that supposedly prove this statement were considered by the McLaren lawyer to be illegally obtained and illegally revealed to the WMSC court. The response from the WMSC was that it was not concerned about whether the documents were legal. Since it was illegal to use them in court, it was also illegal to base any part of the judgement on these documents. As a result, these documents cannot constitute evidence, let alone proof, of the exchange between Stepney and Coughlan - unless the Italian courts deem that the documents do in fact constitute such evidence.

This hasn't happened yet. Therefore, there is no actual proof that the "live" part occurred, since the WMSC Court appeared to have no other sources for this in its transcript. It thought the illegally-used and unproven documents were "impressive" enough.

"The second major mistake that McLaren made was when they held an inquiry... ...they didn't do it thoroughly enough"

Well, all it would have taken is for two people to have lied in a way that was undetected and McLaren wouldn't have been able to detect that connection. Even if Coughlan and de la Rosa had been somewhat truthful (by admitting that they talked to each other), how much would have been considered normal for two employees, and would it be possible to prove in the relatively short timeframe (the inquiry occurred in the run-up to the July meeting, giving McLaren about three weeks to get the inquiry completed) to go through 1000 people's e-mails to find a handful of dodgy e-mails? Even if only e-mails sent by Coughlan were considered (it is known that McLaren suspected him of something, as he got suspended pretty sharpish when the exchange was initially discovered), that would still have been dozens, and likely hundreds, of e-mails to check. In a company that size, it is fairly easy for a dodgy e-mail connection to go undetected. Usually, discovery occurs when one of the parties accidentally copies their e-mail to someone who has the power to stop or inform on the perpetrators, or else someone in power sees such an e-mail on the screen. For all the advances in e-mail monitoring software, breaches outside a limited range (porn, unnecessary attachments, swearing and personal e-mailing) remain very difficult to detect, especially if the intention is to do so without unduly impeding the free flow of legitimate information. It would take a very time-consuming and thorough, or a very lucky inquiry, to have found out that a rogue employee was transferring illegally-obtained information to another employee unless one of them confessed. That didn't happen until early September (and then it was not to McLaren but to the FIA) - rather late for the initial July trial!

"I think everyone felt that there was more to this than we'd heard [in the July case]".

No, most of us didn't; at least, not in the English-speaking sources I've seen. The Europeans generally write in languages other than English, which makes assessing the rest of Max's answer difficult (the only other language I know is Spanish, and the Spaniards would presumably be pro-Alonso...) The time of which Max speaks was before the time that the FIA started chucking out transcripts to the general public at the slightest opportunity. We, the general public, were not expecting anything else to come out of the case. If the WMSC was, why didn't they take the trouble to advise us in the decision? Oh, wait a minute, that would have made their decision to try the case so early look premature...

In case you're wondering, not every Spanish source was pro-FIA about the second trial. El Pais was concerned that the FIA decision was pro-Ferrari - but maybe its being in Spanish precluded Max from reading it. So the generalisation that the continentals were all pro-FIA in the end is false.

"I'd already been told that some e-mails existed, by Bernie [Ecclestone] [when Ron Dennis informed Max of the e-mails]"

Clive at F1 Insight has already tackled this matter; suffice to say that Max's pretence that he was hearing about the e-mails from Ron for the first time is unimpressive at best. More transparency is expected from people enforcing rules.

"I wasn't sure enough to write to the drivers, until the Italian police came up with the list of all the contacts"

Excuse me, but isn't this the same inadmissible list that has already supposedly proven a "live" link between Nigel Stepney and Mike Coughlan despite its inadmissibility? If this is so, then Max was not entitled to use it as a tool to compel anyone to comply with its wishes, particularly with the threat implied with it being an FIA instruction. Such behaviour demeans the validity of FIA instructions.

That said, the FIA could and perhaps should have asked every employee in McLaren to turn over all relevant evidence as soon as it opened the investigation of the case on a reasonably-scaled amnesty scheme. It had the power to analyse the e-mails (including Spanish translation!) that McLaren could not reasonably be capable of doing in such a short time-frame, and it would also have led to a considerably swifter route to the conclusion of this matter.

"they [the e-mails] either came from Alonso or de la Rosa. But presumably the Alonso camp"

That's a mighty big leap, given that Max does not give evidence that differentiates the two. This sort of thinking can be seen elsewhere in this interview, to sometimes dangerous effect to his own case.

By the way, reading personal e-mails is normally illegal under the Computer Misuse Act. However, the sense of Max's elaboration of this question indicates that Fernando chose to reveal these e-mails to Bernie (why remains a mystery, when it would have been simpler to forward the lot to Max), on this occasion the initial Alonso e-mail can be said to have been acquired legally. There is no question over whether the subsequent driver e-mails were obtained legally, only whether Max's justification for requesting them was based on legally-obtained documentation.

"I still think, from a legal point of view, we should have excluded everybody [relating to McLaren over the Ferrari/McLaren mess]."

I'll give him that - he has never deviated once from this point of view. He is consistent in at least some of his opinions. If you assume the conclusion that the WMSC wanted us to believe, then this also follows. The conclusion is therefore valid.

The trouble is that the conclusion is not sound, for the evidence has turned out to be some illegally-obtained Italian documents and a bunch of e-mails that only prove that three employees knew rather than one (and also suggesting that only those three knew - otherwise the e-mails would have been in English and had a wider circulation). This means that there were three rogue employees. The two discovered by the September trial had been granted full amnesty, so technically the FIA was not empowered to issue any punishment to the rest of the team following the evidence, due to its inadequete nature.

"In the end, arguably justice was done [in the McLaren/Ferrari mess]."

Try making that quote compatible with the previous quote. Note that they are spoken by the same person, in the same paragraph in relation, to the same question. Can you get "justice was done" to fit with "we should have excluded everyone"? Me neither.

"For a lot of it [the evidence], you had to draw the inference."

This is the most self-destructive sentence I have ever seen in a court case. Only a fool admits to having little hard evidence for a guilty judgement, let alone one involving such a large penalty and with a larger one threatened. If this were a real court under discussion, the police would be immediately pressing for a re-trial without the interested parties even having to ask first. It pretty much invalidates Max Mosley as a judge of fact in these sorts of cases.

The temptation for me to skip the assumptions that follow this sentence are therefore too strong to resist.

"If we'd done nothing, there would be the temptation to set out to acquire information from another team in any number of ways."

This probably seemed like a logical thing to say at the time (this interview appears to have taken place in late October or early November). However, since the McLaren/Renault mess has shown that only the impression of co-operation is necessary in order to evade a spying charge, then this statement suddenly looks a bit strange. If anything, events will encourage employees to spy, not discourage them. Just not necessarily as individuals.

"I think, and hope, they're paranoid about not doing anything"

How's that for a "Go back to being blobs. Blobs are easy" (Thief of Time by Terry Pratchett) mentality?

"If there are things of that kind... ...they've been quietly got rid of"

Proof that this interview was done before mid-November, when the McLaren/Renault case re-appeared (after a brief mention in the September court case).

"Just suppose the 2008 McLaren incorporates everything from the 2007 Ferrari... ...we've got to make sure... ...the 2008 McLaren doesn't incorporate and Ferrari intellectual property"

If (and after everything above, it's a big if) you still believe that McLaren's guilty judgement was legitimate, then this is a perfectly sensible inference. Max is completely right about the need to check that cars are not contaminated with other teams' IP. In fact, why don't they do this with every team at the appropriate moment in the season, to proactively check that this sort of stuff doesn't happen?

Would be a neat idea...

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

This kiss between Alfie Enoch and Eleanor Tomlinson is more convincing than the one between Eleanor and SH copied from “The Notebook” film

The Couple Next Door wastes no time in telling us that its psychodrama is heading nowhere good.

The new six-part Channel 4 thriller opens with a dramatic flashforward of Gone Girl-esque menace to a woodland cabin in the Yorkshire Dales. Evie (Poldark's Eleanor Tomlinson) emerges clearly unprepared for the elements around her, barefoot, in a negligée and on the run.

In hot pursuit is her other half Pete (Alfred Enoch) and her neighbours-with-benefits Danny (Outlander star Sam Heughan) and his wife Becka (Jessica De Gouw). Evie's crying, Pete has a gun, Danny's wearing an extremely tight jeans and jacket combo. It's all very dramatic, if a tad soapy.

Then we jump back to when this central quartet first met, as a pregnant Evie and her hubby move onto the Leeds cul-de-sac they will shortly meet that titular couple on. The drama bats off the inevitable Desperate Housewives comparisons in the first few lines of dialogue: "I'm sold. Bit Desperate Housewives, maybe, but it's nice," says Pete.

Like that show, it plays on the curtain-twitching and behind-closed-doors intrigue of suburbia, albeit sidestepping the humdrum nosiness and mind-numbing boredom that setting has been captured with on screen before.

Danny, or Tarzan with a Leeds accent and a vast array of muscle tees, welcomes the newbies to the 'burbs by taking their fridge into the house, which he picks up with the ease most people use to retrieve a milk carton from within the fridge.

His wife and yoga nut Becka instantly takes to the couple and when Evie and Pete lose their baby, they turn to their non-monogamous neighbours for support and a friendship between the core four soon blooms.

Danny is a traffic copper taking bribes on the side. Pete is a snarky journalist whose work speaking truth to power will inevitably collide with Danny's dodgy dealings at some point. Evie is a kindergarten teacher desperate to have children of her own. Becka mostly brings the good vibes.

Oh, and Hugh Dennis is also here, down the road from that lot, in the role of a lifetime as a creepy peeping Tom. His main characteristic is a hyper-fixation on Becka, for which he has a telescope station and an ominous Becka-themed folder of JPEGs on his computer, which he has conspicuously named 'untitled'.

Outlander's Heughan and Poldark's Tomlinson are both breaking their 18th century period drama moulds in this psychological couple-swap thriller. However, their chemistry on screen doesn't quite simmer in the way you hope it would from something billed as a drama in which its characters are "chasing deepest desires" and reckoning with the fallout.

It's just a lot of Heughan and Tomlinson staring at each other, often in a way that trends towards cringe as opposed to sexy. When the pair go for a joyride around the neighbourhood on Danny's motorcycle, the thing feels more like an F1 hot lap than seduction by scooter.

The pair told the Radio Times they never did a chemistry test before being cast and questioned what they even really achieve, but maybe the answer would have been better chemistry?

Meanwhile, De Gouw exudes the sexuality required as Becka, so much so you're occasionally left wondering why Danny gives a fig about Evie to begin with. Enoch is solid as the one who's not really down with all of this swinging stuff, questioning whether he's actually as authentic to his progressive persona as he assumed he was.

Both the couples sort of have better chemistry with their own partners in the drama – we get a fairly steamy no-nudity sex scene between Pete and Evie in the first episode, begging the question of whether there's any point in the partner swap that comes later.

A surprising highlight is Dennis with his dark, dead-eyed stare, offering a more family-friendly incarnation of You's "I'll love you to death" Joe Goldberg.

The chief notable absence when comparing this to those other shows is the gaping chasm where some light relief might have gone. Desperate Housewives balanced adultery and arson with both unintentional and intentional gags aplenty, while You has had the biting commentary of Joe's voiceover, particularly in its standout third season.p

But what it does have bubbling underneath the psychodrama is something fairly interesting to say about the way society views non-monogamous relationships, and the unconscious rules we largely abide by in coupledom, which here sex and desire throw into question.

Outlander fans coming over to The Couple Next Door in the hopes of more hot and heavy Heughan won't be disappointed, although this contains less of the romance and never quite reaches the sparky heights of Jamie and Claire.

Ultimately, Pete sort of said it best: bit Desperate Housewives – although perhaps not enough in the ways we would want – but it's nice enough.

She is not wrong! 🤫

She’s not impressed by SH, with zero romantic/sexual chemistry. Could be He does have platonic chemistry with other co-actors. But it means He’s very inconsistent in his approach. Sometimes it goes beyond his acting ability, and it's just the way he works 🤷‍♀️

[amdigitalcharacterillustration]

GROUP DESIGN TASK 07/06/24

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

For the Thursday lesson, we were out into groups and tasked to create a character, with a simple backstory and vague design. These characters then got swapped around the class, with the idea we were to draw the character we got like a faux commission. The catch was that each group member was assigned a specific style to replicate for the piece. There were four styles given out, the same for each group. - Graphic Novel - Childs Book - Mobile Game - Cartoon None of the four I was particularly fussed about receiving, so picked out Mobile Game style on a whim, since it isn't an art style I explore on the regular. …………………………………………………………………………………………………………… The character we were given was that of Johnson Leebourne. A troubled Victorian man who is two people combined into one! We were told he has a violent temper, a cane, and the tendency to like money over his peers. As a group, we first decided on the colour palette of this man, and soon agreed that he'd have more dulled down tones. A possible splash of colour here and there to keep values balanced, but overall nothing insane to look at. Also while bearing in mind that this palette had to work for each style without massive adaptation. The palette finally agreed upon.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………… Now I have everything I need, it's onto the actual drawing. I gathered references. I knew I wanted the character to look like a character meant to be tweened, and to have a simple-ish palette with a lack of shading. Most mobile games to date have very little effort put into them, and I wanted to replicate the low-effort' nature, while actually producing a decent product. My first come across was the popular late 2015 YouTube series ASDF Movie. The characters simplistic style, yet emotional and poseable range, was perfect. Round heads, simple eyes and limbs, that just barely resembled something human. Putting my mind into the head of a cheapskate developer, that certainly tickle my fancy of being cheap, easy and appealing design choice.

I then thought of the app store game 'Dumb Ways To Die', a funky yet gory game that had a choke hold on me as a child. I liked the flat colouring style, which was pulled off effectively enough to not seem lazy. And decided to take inspiration from there are well.

I also picked up a few references for some Victorian era clothing, keeping in mind the colours and styles that would have been available at the time. And as much as I looked to real-life examples, I sought out cartoon versions as well, to give myself a better idea of how I'd simplify a suit design.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………… I then thought about what kind of game my hypothetical mobile character would be from. My mind instantly landed on a tycoon style game, maybe with a side story of our brief character. I concocted the title 'Coin Capers', with the idea that Leebourne was most likely a tax-evading rich man, and his dodgy company a mass cover up for his true money-leeching plans. There'd be scenes where he'd talk to the player, though the game would mostly consist of repetitive, boring coin clicker gameplay. Those scenes would look like how most narrative story games do.

A semi- transparent text box, that contains the dialogue, and a solid box of colour above it that contains the speaking characters name. …………………………………………………………………………………………………………… And here is my design for Johnson Leebourne, after everything I just talked through. I tried to incorporate all my ideas in a cohesive manner, that I feel came through better than I hoped. I apologise since I completely forgot to record my timelapse for this piece.

I did his full body character design, a dialogue box, and the app icon for the fictional mobile game. One half of his body better resembles his 'ex-wife' who's personality merged into his, with a dress and noticeable eyelashes to differentiate her. I wanted his face to look like it was almost split in half to resemble both sides of his personalities. His eyes are a simplistic cartoon-like design that would be easily interchangeable with his other expressions. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

[lostxcloud]

2023 Snowboarding Trip

Day 6: Total Whiteout

Hi! Today we had snow.

So today begins slowly (despite the promises all my siblings made to themselves to just be out there ASAP). Everyone moves sluggishly, breakfast is porridge (or super noodle for my youngest siblings) and afterwards it takes a little while for everyone to get moving.

The team left at about 11:15 and headed down the mountain. I don't know much about where they went until the afternoon, but it sounded from their recounted experiences like they went everywhere.

I set off an hour later, having planned a route using a piste map, whilst staying conscious of the melting snow.

I went all the way up the cable car and took the same scenic route as yesterday, except I continued going down the other side of the mountain. It was gorgeous pine lined piste which curved along the mountain. The weather was pleasant and the snow conditions weren't terrible. To get back home from the other side of the peak, I had to go up top again, then down to town, to go back up and then home.

The first down was fine (although the piste was a little rockier than others I'd experienced, the pebbles were avoidable) the lift up stopped near the top, and the snow began. The cable car bounced whilst stationary, which couldn't have been more than 90 seconds, then it continued up to the top.

The snow, whilst very welcome in its role to repair and recover the pistes, did bring with it fog. In my goggles I could not longer make out the shape of the snow. The moguls blended, and my final descent was much harder. I almost binned it once or twice and it seemed that others were suffering similar fates.

But I made it back to base. Mum was there, having resolved some flight issues and some work issues and was about to lunch, so I joined her in eating some Tomato Soup.

After lunch we headed down to the local shop to get some bread. The shop was still closed for lunch, so we went to the nearby cafe. This is when we received word that my little sister was returning to base all by herself. So I had to hurry over to the base camp again to unlock it all and lead her back to the cafe. At around this time we were updated on the other's whereabouts. They were at the après-ski bar(?) in Plagne-Bellacotte, listening to some dodgy live covers of Barbie Girl.

My sister and I made it back to the cafe and enjoyed a Crêpe before heading to the shop to get some baguette.

Once we got back I had a freak nosebleed. Thankfully it ended pretty quickly. The lads arrived back at base shortly after that too.

With the six of us all back, things were a tad cramped. One brother had a shower. I retreated to my bed. Dad rushed around dealing with certain daily chores. I settled in and did some uni reading at this time.

After all that, and a period of rest for us all, Dad began cooking dinner. Some steaks that were on the edge of their use by date. Some merguez sausages. Dad's mushroom and onion cream-sauce. Rice.

We ate heartily (except mum, who has baguette and garlic cheese) and then I did the washing up.

After cleaning up from dinner we played a couple of rounds of 'One Night Ultimate Werewolf'

My mum spectated, knowing every secret role. My dad git frequently confused by the role swapping and the team goals. I was permanently mistrusted for being serious. My siblings also acted as truth hounds. They could sniff out the truth from a field of cow manure.

I think everyone won at least once, but by the end we were tired and headed to bed shortly afterwards.

I'd also like to state that since just before serving dinner, we'd had some wintery snow falling.

Today's snap of the day is:

My Dad and his icy beard following the start of the snow

[grahamstoney]

How To Make Your Toshiba Laptop Run Like A TRS-80 Model I

New Post has been published on https://grahamstoney.com/technology/how-to-make-your-toshiba-satellite-laptop-run-like-a-trs-80-model-i

How To Make Your Toshiba Laptop Run Like A TRS-80 Model I

I’ve been going completely crazy lately at the glacial speed of my Toshiba Satellite P50t laptop running Windows 10. My virus scanner kept reporting that the 10+ minutes that it took just to boot up was slower than 100% of computers like it, and hitting the “tune up” button wasn’t helping.

They don’t make ’em like this any more

For goodness sake, my TRS-80 Model I running NEWDOS/80 back in 1984 could boot faster. Not to mention all the waiting and spinning icons actually using the damn thing. It’s 2017 for your-chosen-deity’s sake, and a machine with a 2.8GHz processor should be just a bit speedier than that.

So after ruminating for ages on the decline of modern technology and how things “should” be, rather than how they actually are, I decided to suck it up and upgrade the hard drive in the laptop to a Solid State Drive (SSD) to save my remaining mental health.

This also took ages, since the first few USB-to-SATA adaptor cables I bought on eBay to clone the bastard either didn’t work, or weren’t compatible with the first few hard drive cloning software packages I tried. So I thought I’d write this article to help anyone else in similar situation reduce their mental distress.

My SSD of choice is a SanDisk Ultra II 960 Gb, which I found on eBay for about A$400. I chose it because it’s a reputable brand, reasonably cost-effective, is almost as big as the hard drive I was replacing, and has quite high data transfer rates. Certainly a lot higher than a conventional hard drive with all the head seeking required to load the billions of crappy software components that fucking Microsoft Windows 10 needs just to launch the goddam desktop screen. Not to mention the software apps I want to run on it.

The first trick is to get a USB-to-SATA adaptor with an external power supply, because the low-cost cables you find on eBay won’t be able to supply the 5volts at 2amps from a USB port that the Ultra II requires in order to function externally while you clone your internal hard drive to it. After trying 2 other dodgy cables from eBay, I found the Unitek USB Converter3.0 to SATA Adapter from Kogan.com worked for me. Kogan is great because they only sell shit that works. It might still be made in China, but they don’t stock all the cheap electronic crap that eBay has which doesn’t actually work, but is too expensive to mail back once you’ve ripped it open in Australia.

The next trick is to find cloning software that works. This took me a few goes, including trying the Acronis True Image WD Edition software that SanDisk recommend; which wouldn’t detect the drive initially and always failed with a spontaneous reboot mid-cloning.

Eventually I found the free trial version of EaseUS Todo Backup (I don’t know if it’s pronounced too-doo or toe-doe) worked for me, provided I plugged the USB adapter into the front-most USB port on the right hand side of the machine. Download the trial version, fire it up, hit the Clone button on the main screen, select the “Optimise for SSD” checkbox, select Drive 1 as the target, and give it a couple of hours to work the magic. You don’t need all 30 days really, provided you don’t take a month off between installing it and getting a working USB/SATA adapter, like I did when I attempted to use Macrium Reflect.

Then all you have to do is pull the laptop apart and swap the SSD for the internal hard drive. Here’s a video a really helpful mute with poor taste in music created to show you exactly how to do it:

Here’s to speed and sanity!

[blu-joons]

BTS Reaction: Taking Care Of Him When He’s Ill

Jin:

A yawn escaped from him as you turned to face him, cupping the side of his face gently. “You look like that nap did you a little bit of good Jin.”

He smiled, nodding his head against your hand. “It felt good to be able to rest my eyes properly and get a bit of sleep in me, I’ve not slept for such a long time.”

“It was nice to see you asleep, you’ve had too many restless nights recently,” you commented, smiling as you noticed a small spark in his eyes for the first time in almost a week.

“My body is still sore though, and my head still has a bit of an ache,” he told you, pouting across at you, “it’s nowhere near as bad as it was the other the day though, which is a start.”

You nodded, it was hard seeing him without his usual mojo, so ill and weak beside you. “In a few days you’ll be back to your usual self, just let me look after you for now.”

“I will,” he grinned, trying to stop his eyelids from fluttering shut once again as sleep still threatened. “Do you mind if maybe I close my eyes for a few more minutes?”

“Not at all, it’s nice for me to see you so relaxed and peaceful Jin.”

“Thank you,” he hummed, taking a hold of your hand, squeezing it gently. “Will you stay here with me? I like waking up with you next to me.”

“I’ll be right here, waiting for you to wake up.”

Yoongi:

Your whole night of sleep had been disturbed by Yoongi beside you, he’d been tossing and turning all night long, sighing heavily to himself. “Yoongi, what’s wrong?”

“Oh,” he muttered, realising that you were awake beside him. “I’m just not feeling so good, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he whispered, as you turned around to face him.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” You asked, as he shook his head. You frowned, wrapping your arm loosely around his waist, feeling how hot he was. “You’ve got a bad temperature.”

He sighed, “if I sleep with the duvet, I’m too hot, sleep without it, I’m too cold, I simply can’t win,” he vented, leaning closer into your body.

You were stuck with what to do, you’d never seen him so ill before. “Maybe you need to get rid of the duvet and sleep with a blanket instead, it’s easier to cool you down with.”

“I don’t want to disturb you, you need the duvet,” he pointed out, throwing it back over you as you tried to remove it from the two of you. “I’ll be fine in a short while.”

“You’re not fine, stop being so stubborn. I’m happy with the blanket.”

“You’re too good to me sometimes,” he whispered, as you stood up, swapping the bedding for the two of you, “do you want me to sleep in the spare room instead?”

“You’re staying right here where I can see you.”

Hoseok:

Your heart sunk at the sound of retching coming from the bathroom, you walked over, peering through the gap in the door. “Sunshine, you alright in here?” You asked him.

He looked up at you from beside the toilet, shrugging his shoulders. “I knew the food was dodgy in the restaurant when I ate it earlier, clearly it doesn’t sit well.”

“I’m sorry,” you frowned, walking across to sit beside him, resting your hand onto his thigh. “Just take all the time you need, and we can sort this all out when you’re sorted.”

“Thank you,” he muttered, throwing his head back to try and get rid of the horrific feeling of sick that he was suffering from.

You rested your hand onto his forehead, making sure that he wasn’t too hot either. “Maybe it would be good for you not to head to the studio tomorrow, you don’t want to make things worse.”

“I can’t let the boys down, they’ll be expecting me there,” he told you, but your head shook back at him, “Y/N, I’ll feel fine in a moment.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, you’re staying here tomorrow, regardless.”

“You worry too much,” he giggled, turning to face you, covering his mouth with his hand. “But I’ll stay here tomorrow, if you promise to look after me.”

“Of course, I will look after you Hobi.”

Namjoon:

You unlocked the door finding Namjoon laid out on the sofa, you frowned, not expecting him home so soon. “Keep your distance jagi, I’m not feeling too good right now.”

Naturally, you took a step back, watching as he sat up so that he could look across at you. “You were alright this morning when you went to work, what’s happened?”

“I don’t know, things have just got progressively worse through the day at the studio, the boys decided it was best for me to head home,” he spoke, coughing several times.

“I’ll see if I can find some bits in the cupboard to make you feel better,” you told him, walking into the kitchen, grabbing all the cough medicine that you could find.

He smiled weakly, holding his waist where his aches were when you walked back in. “You’ve had a long day at work, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m going to worry when you’re not well,” you sighed, handing him some tablets and a glass of water, “I don’t like seeing you when you’re not feeling good.”

“I’ll be fine in a bit, now that I’ve got you here to look after me.”

“I’ll get on with tea, just call me if you need anything,” you shouted through, walking back into the kitchen, “try and get some sleep as well Joon whilst I cook.”

“You’re the best sometimes, I think I’ll be alright.”

Jimin:

His frame stirred, looking around as he found himself laid out in the living room, he had no recollection of what had happened, or why he was on the floor. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he mumbled back across at you, scratching the top of his head. “Why am I on the floor Y/N? I don’t remember laying down here or anything.”

“You fainted,” you informed him, brushing his hair out of the front of his face, “you’ve been too ill and not taking care of yourself, and now this happened.”

His eyes shut, he felt terrible that he’d allowed himself to get that way. “Sorry that you had to deal with this,” he told you, smiling weakly up at you.

“You don’t need to apologise, I just want you to realise that you need to take a step back and look after yourself,” you told him, watching as he nodded his head back at you.

“I thought if I pretended, I wasn’t ill then it would just go away, not cause this to happen,” he groaned, reaching out for your hand to hold.

“Sometimes you just need to take some time to look after yourself.”

“I know,” he sighed, “and I will do that now, I need to get better so I can go back to work,” he told you, clearing his throat loudly.

“You can start by staying home for now.”

Taehyung:

His eyes watched the door to your bedroom open, you were still in your work uniform, smiling across at him. “Feeling any better?” You asked, sitting on the end of the bed.

His shoulders shrugged, patting the space on the beside him, “I’m still feeling really bad, but a bit better than this morning, but that’s not much.”

“Is there anything I can get you now that I’m home?” You asked, but his head shook. Your eyes looked around the room, “you’ve not eaten all day, you need to try and eat something, it might make you feel better.”

“Maybe I could do with a little something,” he hummed, running his hands over his face and through his messy strands of hair.

You nodded, standing up from the sofa, smiling down at him. “I’ll see what I can find downstairs in the kitchen, they’ll be some recipes online for good foods for sickness.”

“Don’t do much, you’ve probably had a long day at work,” he called out, but your shoulders shrugged, your priority was making sure that he was better.

“Just lay there, and I’ll be back soon you don’t need to worry about me.”

“You’re too good,” he smiled, pulling the duvet tighter around his limp frame, “I’ll wait here for you to come back, make sure that you get some food for yourself too whilst there.”

“I will, I’ll come back, and we can eat together.”

Jungkook:

You tiptoed up the stairs, finding him wide awake, smiling across at you as you walked into the bedroom. “You were supposed to be asleep,” you chuckled.

He smiled, “I was for a while, but then I needed to sneeze, and everything just fell apart.” He sat up, taking the mug of tea that you’d made for him to try and help him feel better.

“Has the sleep made you feel better?” You asked, perching on the end of his bed. “I have to say you look a bit better, your eyes have got a bit of a spark back in them.”

“It was a good sleep, until I had to bloody sneeze,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. You chuckled back at him, straightening the blanket that he had around himself.

“Hopefully, you’ll be able to get some sleep again soon,” you encouraged, resting your hands around his ankles, “sleep is obviously doing you a lot of good.”

He hummed, “and the fact I’ve got you here to look after me, you’ve been amazing over the past few days, even when I have been really annoying and irritable.”

“It’s no bother for me, I just want to make sure that you get better.”

“You’ve gone above and beyond,” he pointed out, “all these little things really do help me to feel more like myself,” he spoke, raising his mug of tea in the air.

“I’m just glad I can make you feel a bit better.”

---

Masterlist

[mrb52563]

Uk press a government reminded me of how unprepared they are when they point to drugs

Every job ive had in the valley as being linked to people who get a job in my department on drugs in the early years say 91 at lancashire sock every worker that got a job down in the sellar in my dept was on drugs fact

i ignored now pre 91 was working as taxi driver for a short time were i met david he never drank or took drugs we hung out together he drove a lada and was from ashton area of manchester is family

pre that so 1990 i work at david holts plastics and all good pre that worked 1987/88 worked at david holt plastics then pre that worked at alfra manufacturing new barn lane rochdale pre that 1986/85 to 1984 worked at carrex dates might be slightly out but mostly accurate

So we notice people and drugs at work linked to lancashire sock then pet crem so 91/98 fact

i worked at mill even got keys to open up so a trustee

went back to work at mill around 2000/2001 again trustee with keys

So my sister sold weed fact her and richard around late 1988/89 to early 90s then went on to harder drugs the people they new changed in a four year period from say 91/94 so i went down to me sister even if my mate was david the ashton lad who lived near by in my valley him and his lada would call round and just see if all was ok first in council house on taylor avenue council provided or on kirk view council provided point being council good at placing like doctors good at giving out prescriptions or swapping prescriptions for sexual favour to point there struck off and or jailed so jeremy greenwood was a junky doctor with miss wilkinson and the other doctors name slips my mind who was struck off prescriptions for sexual favours well known in valley so lets look again gossip hearsay but true court cases in local paper with people who visited my sisters so councils find houses doctors give out dodgy scripts to my jobs cool apart from druggy people i dont no being placed down with me so by 1998 at pet crem the harold shipman case links my uncles dead up to 1997 and my mothers dead after we move into a council flat on pennine road then they move to this council bungalow now architecture to councils to dodgy doctors to new practices with headed note paper ref a murder in todmoreden to cops introducing the tower project a drug help link burnley adopts all easy to check so goverment to doctors the attempt to shame on sowclough living next to david to there dodgy records like council record look closer they show a different story fact manipulated facts to cover cops mp to councils arses its them in trouble with me and mine lets say not compus mentus as they try to point out look again ( Hatchet) Job the so called drugs link so towers project cops later burnley adopted to dodgy doctors jeremey and friends known to be drug doctors then councils to doctor harold shipman so councils later together trust to doctors to cops tower project its there recollection needs addressing fully what they new and pointed

[incoherentbabblings]

Can you please write a fic with fluffy, 67, and Timsteph (rebirth era)? Thanks!

God I know I'm like the one of three Tim stans who's like genuinely gungho for this era but BOY. Okay full disclosure for this one I think I wanna go back one day and expand on this. A lot. The road trip after Detective Comics but before YJ is just too intriguing of a space not to fill.

I got carried away. Essentially. Again.

So thank you anon! You've unleashed something terrible! Good job. I'll try and get the last ones done tomorrow, but there may be a small delay!!

Birthday Ask Game!

67. “I’m right where I belong.”

They’d been driving for a few days now. Stephanie didn’t travel outside of Gotham much, so these open highways, endless horizons with nothing to see or call out, was fascinating to her. Tim liked to drive, so she let him. It seemed that the moment they left Gotham the skies cleared, the sun shone, and the wind was warm. She’d open the truck window, rest her chin on her arm, shut her eyes, and enjoy the breeze blowing her around her face. There was some terrible country music playing the radio, but it suited the mood. The sun was beginning to set, the summer sky lighting up a brilliant fiery orange. Everything felt warm.

She could practically hear Tim grinning next to her, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear stick. The truck was old, beat up but reliable. Arguably one of the best gifts Bruce had ever given him.

He wanted to hold Stephanie’s hand.

He wasn’t sure she’d allow it. Yes, she’d affirmed that she loved him, saving him from Ulysses and Brother Eye in the process. Yes, she’d said she wanted to explore the world with him.

But that didn’t mean she wanted to hold his hand.

They were broken up still. On a break. Tim hadn’t really consented to taking a break, but he respected her too much. Besides, if she’d wanted to hold his hand, she would have reached for it by now. An invisible wall was there, separating her seat from his. Every time they’d stopped for the night at some dodgy motel, they asked for two beds. One time there was only one. Tim had made do on the sofa, shattered from a day of driving. Stephanie had chewed her lip, but ultimately not fought him on it.

Tim didn’t know where to start, how to bring it up.

What were they to each other now?

“Where are we?” Stephanie asked, eyes opening so she could rummage through the dash for her phone. “Hour three hundred and ninety-six of the incredible journey…”

“Is it really?”

“Nah.” Snorting, she quickly checked maps, then whistled to herself. “We’re a long way from Gotham now.”

“Loads to go still.”

She lolled her head round, smiling sleepily. “You’re something else, Tim Drake.”

He grinned, mouth crooked. “I like driving. Especially on open roads like this. Can almost shut your brain off. For me, at least.”

“Hmm. Well, do you wanna stop soon? There must be a place eventually.”

Tim nodded, but, to his slight dismay, over the next three hours nothing suitable turned up. A rest stop with a block of toilets was the best they could do. It was pushing midnight, and with Stephanie falling asleep in the passenger seat, swapping seats was not an option.

Sighing, Tim pulled off to rest, then shook Stephanie.

“You go in the backseat. I’ll go out on the trunk bed.”

She looked very offended at the idea, but unable to come up with a better solution herself. Instead, she weakly asked, “You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s summer. Roasty toasty still.” He paused, looking a little nervous despite himself. “We have blankets, right?”

“We do,” she murmured, turning around and rummaging through carboard boxes on the floor.

“Cool. Gonna go pee.”

“Nice,” she snarked. “Well, I’ll do my best to set you up somewhat decently. I don’t think it’ll rain.”

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she began to tug out pillows and blankets, determined to set something up for Tim that was somewhat inhabitable for the night.

He returned to find her outside, literally throwing in the towel.

“Uh-uh. No way you can sleep out like this. You’ll break your back and die from exposure.”

He gripped the lip of the truck, watching her refold the knitted blankets into neat piles. He had to admit, she had a point. She rubbed her nose, sniffing through the dust kicked up by their movements. Leggings and a woolly sweater, that was all she had on. He was not much better, but at least he had his body warmer.

Stephanie shut her eyes “Listen. How about you rest up front. I’ll nap in the back, then when I wake up, I’ll drive us to somewhere where we can both get some proper shut eyes.”

Tim sighed, then nodded. “Okay. You’ll be alright in the back though?”

“Course!” she chirped, moving around the truck bed. Tim followed her, as when she gripped and tugged on the door handle. It wouldn’t budge. Laughing uncomfortably, she pulled again. And again. And again. The motion became frantic, her whole body moving as she tried desperately to get the back door open. “Oh, come on you dumb piece of – Oh!”

She ripped the door open, jamming her pointy elbow straight into Tim’s gut. He cried out, Stephanie mirroring the cry of pain in shock as she whirled around, immediately grabbing him and pulled him upright. “I’m so sorry! Sweetie, are you okay?”

She trailed off, catching herself off guard.

Tim, meanwhile, leapt on it. “Sweetie? Still?”

“I…”

The pair stared at each other. Tim expected a difficult conversation – establishing boundaries, talking about what he had done, what she had gone through, laying trauma to rest.

Instead, she grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in close, swallowing up his confused but joyful exclamation.

“What?” he managed to spit out in between licking her lips.

“Got tired of waiting…” she muttered. Her hand was gripping and twisting his shirt tight. Tim shuffled, pushing them back into the truck, and Stephanie hopping up onto the seat, Tim crawling in after her. Despite the cramped space, it did not take long for her to end up on his lap, blatantly feeling his chest up.

She sighed as they broke apart, kissing whatever skin Tim would allow her access to.

“I didn’t know…” Tim panted into her mouth, hot and heavy, trying to clumsily get her sweater off. “If you were okay with – we’d been through – and then”—

She shushed him, a golden smile on her mouth.

“I’m right where I belong. In this beat up monster of a truck. Right here.”

Tim blushed, thankful for the pitch-black night. “In the middle of nowhere?”

“Sure,” she replied easily. “With you. Always.”

He grinned back, chest light and warm. When he kissed her again, he found he could not agree more with her statement.

This moment, surrounded by cardboard boxes, his jeans pulled down past his ass, Stephanie’s sweater hanging loosely around her neck, head smacking against the roof of the truck, at risk from some patrol officer catching them off guard, with uncomfy cracked leather making him chafe… This moment was perfect.

[fireberryarts]

So because of my current... set up I couldn’t try the clean-line animation that I wanted, but I tried to fix up issues where I could. See below under the cut for a more detailed explanation of this process (which also serves as a record for my own future reference so it isn’t really complaining. It is, but it isn’t really. Kind of).

I’ve never actually tried animating lighting and shading like this. I think it came out better than I thought it would.

Originally it was a 32-frame animation, but I fixed the pacing and it became a 49-frame animation. 

Here is the first as a comparison 

Considering.... below... I am very happy with how it came out. 

Now I die in peace xD

Also the compression for Tumblr is terrible. Here is a larger version (remove brackets and spaces bc Tumblr don’t like outgoing links apparently);

https [://] 1drv[.]ms/u/s!AiJ2rEKcRHVihDJxgCnxVeVD4S7G?e=T1o6yC

I hope you guys like it and I sincerely thank you for all the lovely comments on my work. Thank you! You guys are great!

Okay so a little bit of an annoyed rant but;

The laptop I am using has issues. I have BSoD often which really slows down progress, even if I DO save often. I also don’t trust it with my data. This problem came about during uni so I bought a new laptop - a gaming laptop so it could handle the things I want - but I ended up with a dodgy one. It got to the point where I’d struggle bringing up the task manager and it’d take up to an hour to boot up. I stopped shutting it down entirely. 

Couldn’t do anything because I was living in halls and I NEEDED a laptop for work. I couldn’t just send it off to be fixed. We (me and my brother) tried everything to diagnose the problem. It turned out to be a hardware issue. 

After uni I sent it back to be fixed, and they swapped out the hard drive and the wifi card and gave it back. It declined again proving the issue isn’t the hard drive. It was most likely the motherboard. I sent it off again, and they just formatted it and sent it back. Ofc I was upset over that so I sent it off again and explained in detail why it’s not a hard drive issue, not a virus, please check the motherboard.

They formatted and sent it back.

This was over the course of months. In the end I asked for a refund. 

With the refund I bought parts for a PC to build. Have almost everything except a mouse, keyboard and my own monitor (I salvaged one). I can’t use the PC with just the on-screen keyboard (you NEED a keyboard and mouse with TVP you have no choice) so we hooked my older laptop up to it for remote access. I installed TV Paint, but the lag from the PC, over the internet, to my shitty laptop and into my dodgy tablet is a bit much.

I could connect the tablet directly to the PC but the cables are not long enough and I have no comfortable chair, unless I want to end up with a sore arse for the end of time, it’s not a good idea to be doing work such as this without a comfortable seat. 

We’ve ordered longer cables, a mouse, keyboard and speakers, but it’s just waiting for them to arrive now. I’m sure there will be just as much delay as the PC parts due to the current pandemic.

What I’d do normally, animating, is have the initial sketchy-sketch (that I had already posted) then build a skeleton atop of that to ensure certain things (like head size) don’t change throughout. I wasn’t able to do that because that process absolutely requires an animation software to complete. It can’t be guesswork. It has to be watched in motion. 

Atop that I clean-line from what I’ve already done. More talented animators can animate in one go, but I can’t do that so I’m stuck doing it in a few layers.

What I had to do this time? Well the keyframes were drawn in Paint Tool SAI, transferred to TV Paint where I did my best with in-betweens. Fixing animation isn’t going to be a thing I can do in TVP so I tried it in SAI. Tried. 

After every few frames I’d export and transfer them to the PC and import them into TVP to watch them in motion. More often than now I’d fuck up somewhere and have to go back and fix the new issue. 

Shading and highlighting was done in SAI also. I had to do the base colour, export as a PNG as to lose the layers, then import them back so I can clip shading and highlighting layers ontop of the flattened image. 

It was... a process.

After all was said and done (including a background and foreground shading / highlighting layers), I imported them into TVP to watch the motion

I do NOT recommend animating this way. 

Just don’t. 

Don’t.

I’m just desperate to animate something after a literal year of being unable to do anything at all lmfao

[theparanormalperiodical]

The REAL Story Behind The Conjuring 2: The Enfield Case (2016), And The 5 British Poltergeist Hauntings That Will Make You, Like, Die

In 2003, a moving van pulled up outside a small council house in North London. 

Clare Bennet, a single mother of four, was moving into a new house that had suddenly become vacant. The former tenant who had lived there for over 30 years had recently passed away. It wasn’t long, however, before the single mother and her children began to experience things.

Strange things.

Clare was the first to notice it: that distinct feeling of being watched. Her teenage sons then began to hear the voices. Whispers and murmurs would emanate from downstairs in the dead of the night. And a few weeks later her 15-year-old son, Shaka, woke up to see a strange man enter his room and then dissipate into nothingness. 

Yep, the house was haunted.

But let’s be honest - this paranormal activity ain’t nothing special. These events feature in most ghost stories that get told in the pub after a ‘couple pints. But a story like this wasn’t the first to be heard in Enfield’s Wetherspoons. 

You see, the same thing had happened in the same house to the last family that lived there. Only the experiences of the last tenant, Peggy Hodgson and her children, in the late 1970s were more than a ghost story. What happened to Peggy and her children would go on to inspire one of the highest-grossing horror movies of all time - The Conjuring 2. 

But how accurate was James Wan’s version of what really happened in Enfield? And are there any other poltergeists terrorising the residents of the UK? Let’s find out. 

What happens in The Conjuring 2?

In the second instalment of this ground-breaking horror franchise we see Ed and Lorraine Warren, your favourite ghost-busting dream-team, swap the one haunted house for another. 

After a working-class cockney family begin to notice paranormal activity in their London home - you know, odd noises in the walls, objects turning up in different places, and an 11-year-old girl claiming a dead man is speaking through her - the pair of lovable demonologists troop down to ol’ London town and investigate. 

But shortly before they visit England’s very own Amityville they are shacked up in, well, Amityville. In the midst of one of their most infamous paranormal investigations, we see Lorraine conduct a seance that leads her to the basement of the Ocean Avenue house. There she meets a new demonic entity - a nun.

Once Lorraine is returned from the spirit world, word of the Hodgsons’ plight reaches the Warrens who agree to investigate. They rope in fellow paranormal experts Anita Gregory and Maurice Grosse to help assess if this really is paranormal activity and if so, what’s causing it. Unfortunately, the Warrens then ditch their efforts when they discover evidence that proves Janet, the girl at the centre of the activity, is actually faking it.

Convinced it is indeed a hoax, the Warrens pack up shop and head home until they uncover forgotten evidence that proves the activity is real. 

The Warrens return and the film ends in the only way a Conjuring movie can: with a near death experience and a demonic entity being told to f*ck off back to hell. The ominous clouds part, the police pull up outside, and Janet stops sounding like she smokes 2 packs a day. 

$320 million later and we’ve arrived at the only good thing to come out of 2016. But how real was the reality The Conjuring universe prides itself on?

The answer: you-probably-won’t-sleep-tonight real.

What really happened at 284 Green Street?

It started as most hauntings do: Peggy and her four children started noticing gentle taps and knocks around the house. It was the sort of thing you’d brush off as a dodgy pipe or an angry squirrel that was ragin’ you had new insulation put in that wall. Then the childrens’ beds started wobbling. Alas, Peggy was convinced her children were, well, being children. 

One night she charged into their bedroom in an attempt to get them to pack it in after hearing a loud crash from upstairs. She was caught short in her telling off, however, when a chest of drawers lunged towards her. She instinctively pushed it back until whatever pushed the drawers forward pushed her back. 

The single mother shepherded her children out the door and to their neighbours for safety. And it was Vic Nottingham, the patriarch of the family next door, that experienced the same thing when he investigated what was going on.

He heard knocks. He heard them wherever he went - in fact, they were following him. The builder went through the pipes in an attempt to determine the likely mundane cause of the noises: there was none. 

That night, in August 1977, Peggy Hodgson rang the police. 

When a police constable finally arrived to assess the situation, they didn’t see any criminal cause of the goings-on, nor any angry rodents. She did, however, see a chair slide 4 feet across the floor and hear the knocking that had been haunting the Hodgsons. She could offer up no explanation to what she saw, and even testified in an official document what she saw.

The constable’s report was the first piece of evidence - the first of many - that would spin the Enfield Poltergeist into a media frenzy. Within the 18 months that followed, more than 30 people would come forward to corroborate the claims of the Hodgson family. These claims would escalate from wobbly chairs to disembodied voices, loud noises, overturned furniture, and even children levitating. 

Aside from this aggressive phenomena, unique activity was reported, too: lego bricks and marbles were hurled at high speeds and odd angles by an invisible force, but they wouldn’t bounce when they hit the floor. They would stop - dead still - and be hot to touch. Puddles would also appear out of nowhere, and any glasses left out would fill up with water. Matches would be found burnt in their boxes and oven gloves would self-combust.

Even a mirror caught fire. 

(I have no idea, either.)

During the press mania surrounding the house the BBC set up shop at the London house to capture audio evidence of the knocking and the voices often heard. The next day, the crew discovered the metal components within the equipment had been bent and broken and the recordings mysteriously erased.

In fact, it was the interest of the press that would lead the investigation: the editor of the Daily Mirror was the one of appeal to the Society of Psychical Research to investigate the goings on. And it was Maurice Grosse that would step up to the plate as the lead investigator. By the time Grosse had launched his investigation, Janet began levitating. Like, a lot.

In fact, that picture of her was taken on an automatic camera at 3am. However, Janet was also often seen being hurled out of her bed by numerous other witnesses. In December 1977, a lollipop lady (a crossing guard) saw Janet going up and down in front of the window. But she wasn’t jumping up and down on the bed - her body was horizontal. She also saw random objects being flung against the window, too. This went on for some time.

A man delivering bread saw a similar thing - but he claimed Janet and other objects were floating in the room as if there was a draft from a window. And Janet was rotating. 

She began to suffer from seizures. And then she began to talk - but she claims that it wasn’t her that was talking. Oh no, the gruff voice she spat out was later identified as  ‘Bill’. She would speak for hours at a time in this voice, and even managed to produce it whilst holding water in her mouth. Scientists ran vocal tests but claimed it was impossible for her to speak this way for such periods without damaging her vocal cords. He believed Janet, therefore, wasn’t producing the voice consciously. 

It was when Bill started talking that the activity changed. 

Many tape recording sessions captured the strange voice, and one even caught Bill identifying himself as a former tenant of the house who lived and died there.

“Before I died I went blind…then I had a haemorrhage and I fell asleep and I died in a chair in a corner downstairs…”

Bill speaking through Janet which you can listen to here 

Three years after the media frenzy a man contacted the Hodgson family. He claimed his father, William (Bill) Wilkins died in that house many years ago. He had died of a brain haemorrhage in the armchair in the corner of the living room. 

Despite the proof of the paranormal activity, there are many claims the poltergeist was actually a hoax. The disembodied voices all came from Janet’s direction, the leaders of the investigation including Grosse and Anita Gregory believed the children were at least playing tricks and exaggerating their claims, and Janet was even caught on camera trying to bend an iron bar in an attempt to fake activity. Janet also had many habits conducive to a hoax: she would hide tape recorders and ‘Bill’ would often change topics, something Janet would often do when not ‘possessed’. 

In the autumn of 1978 a priest performed a blessing on the house. The activity soon died down and returned to the minimal levels first experienced by the family. Despite a flurry of new activity in the summer of 1980, the media attention did not follow the Enfield Poltergeist. Silence seemingly fell upon Green Street, and Peggy stayed in that house until she died 23 years later.

Whatever happened in that house laid dormant until 2003, when Clare Bennet first began to feel like she was being watched.

How accurate was the film to the actual events that took place?

The tale of the Enfield Poltergeist - whether it was a haunting or a hoax - is no doubt a terrifying story best told around a roaring fire with a stiff whiskey. But The Conjuring 2 certainly told it best with it’s stunning script, incredible sets, and even a surprise Elvis cover. Question is, how far did this traumatising film live up to its based-on-a-totally-true-story tagline?

Let’s find out.

*clicks on torch*

First, we have to discuss the Warrens’ role in the investigation into the Enfield Poltergeist. Or is that they’re lack of role? Throughout the film we see a scarily accurate portrayal of the paranormal activity and the actual investigation of it, from the audio recording sessions with Janet, to the iconic moving furniture and knocking sounds. But a majority of the investigations portrayed in the film are conducted by Lorraine and Ed. This is not accurate.

Like, not at all.

In the summer of 1978, the American demonologists rocked up uninvited to the North London home. They stayed for a day, told Guy Lyon Playfair - one of the original investigators - that he could make a lot of cash off the case, and jetted back to America.

Nevertheless, the events we see play out (whether witnessed by the Warrens or not) were reported by the other investigators on the case. We do, however, see the main investigators on the case, Maurice Grosse and Anita Gregory. On the other hand, we do see the Warrens conduct their investigation into Amityville.

Yep, Ed and Lorraine Warren were the main investigators behind the activity that plagued American’s most haunted house just two years prior, and one of these seances inspired the opening sequence of The Conjuring 2. It’s in this opening sequence that we first see Valak, the demonic nun that’s been haunting your nightmares. The demon nun is based on Lorraine’s own experiences with a similar entity, but there was no such entity reported at Enfield, nor was there the infamous Crooked Man spirit that terrorised many viewers.

The Crooked Man however is actually based on a real-life person.

“There Was A Crooked Man” is an English nursery rhyme first put in print in 1842. Legend has it the crooked man is the Scottish General Sir Alexander Leslie who signed a covenant that secured religious and political freedom for Scotland. 

There was a crooked man, and he went a crooked mile,

He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile;

He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse,

And they all liv'd together in a little crooked house.

This rhyme refers to the ‘crooked’ or difficult alliance between the English and Scottish parliaments and the animosity between the nations. 1696’s recoinage also inspired the rhyme as the coins were made of thin silver that were easily bent, or made crooked.

The film also picks up on the potential of a hoax. At the climax of the film we see a camera pick up footage of Janet destroying the kitchen. She throws chairs, she tosses knives, and she bends spoons before she sees a camera and realises she’s been caught in a lie.

This did actually happen.

However, we later learn in the film that the spirit, Bill, was telling her to do it or he would kill them all (#imaginative). 

The film doesn’t just get the actual activity right - it gets how it started correct, too. After we’ve seen Lorraine relive the DeFeo murders, and after we’ve seen her predict her own husband’s horrific death via tree, we see Janet pull out a ouija board from under her bed.

*sigh*

IRL Janet later admitted she had indeed used a ouija board with her sister, Margaret. 

However, the activity this supposedly initiated was at times dramatised. In several scenes we see Janet ‘teleport’ to other locations in the house, and at one point we even see her go through a ceiling and turn up in a room full of slowly rotating crucifixes. Although there weren’t any reports of this, Ed Warren did mention teleportation in one of the few quotes regarding the haunting.

But to be honest, I’m not sure how far we can trust the Warrens for their verdict considering they barely made it through the front door.

So the film, with a few characters re-jigged, aligned pretty closely with the huge volume of evidence corroborating the story. But what about the other alleged poltergeists that laid claim to the UK?

The 5 most terrifying poltergeists that are still haunting Britain

A poltergeist, aka a ‘noisy spirit’, is a type of haunting that produces a lot of audible and visual activity. Most alleged hauntings fall under this category, but there are some that stick out.

Drummer of Tedworth (Wiltshire)

In 1661, John Mompesson brought a lawsuit against William Drury. Drury was a vagrant drummer, and Mompesson believed he was collecting money under false pretences. Mompesson won the case against him, and the drum Drury used was even turned over to him.

But it wasn’t long after this that the drumming started.

Yep, Mompesson’s house was plagued by a phantom drumming noise he claimed was stirred by witchcraft.

Drury was rumoured to be besties with a local community of gypsies who weren’t afforded a favourable reputation in mainstream society. They were supposed to be the cause of the activity.

Joseph Glanvill wrote about this poltergeist after visiting the home in 1663 and reported hearing scratching under a bed in the children’s room. 

Many refuted these claims and believed it was trickery from the enraged band of gypsies blamed for witchcraft who were causing the trouble by non-supernatural means. When they travelled overseas the drumming stopped, when they returned to the local area it began again. 

Mompesson’s young children were also blamed for enhancing the activity by adding to the noises. 

Rerrick Poltergeist (Dumfries)

Not long after John Mompesson first started hearing drumming, Andrew MacKie began to see strange things happening on his farm. 

The Ring-Croft of Stocking - a farm nestled in the small village in Auchencairn - housed a number of violent paranormal phenomena. Rocks were thrown, buildings caught fire, cattle were moved by invisible forces, family members were beaten up and dragged around, and even notes were discovered from a mysterious entity.

An entity that wrote only in blood.

But this entity wasn’t your run of the mill pissed off spirit who may or may not have a knack for banging a drum; this was something else entirely. The local minister claimed MacKie took an oath to devote his first child to the devil. Other causes of the activity were also attributed to MacKie such as his failure to burn the tooth of a fortune teller found on the farm.

The minister and several other clergymen came to the farm after passing blame to the farmer and prayed there. The activity shortly ceased after this.

Bealings Bells (Suffolk)

In the 19th century Bealings House was resident to a ‘poltergeist incident’ as it was termed. 

A circumstance of an unaccountable nature has recently occurred in my house … On 2nd inst. returning from the afternoon service I was told the dining room bell had been rung three times, at intervals, between two and five o’clock. At this, the servants left in the house, a man and a woman, were surprised; no personal cause being perceptible, though sought

Major Edward Moor, owner of the manor

The ringing would sound out for the next 54 days, but on the 27th March it stopped. 

Moor was convinced this was caused by some unknown spirit and he even wrote a book on his experiences. Later interpretations however claim this must be down to mischievous servants. Ronald Pearsall, a member of the Society for Psychical Research later gave his own verdict on the incident:

It was all complete bollocks.

Ballechin House (Perthshire)

We return to Scotland to a Georgian estate home first built in 1806, a home that was once resident to a peculiar man named John Skinner.

But before John came his uncle, Major Robert Steuart.

After serving in the Indian Army in the early 19th century, Steuart returned to his home with a fervent belief in reincarnation. He lived there for many years with numerous dogs and firmly believed he would return in the form of one after death.

Enter his nephew, John, who was so convinced of his reincarnation, he had all his dogs shot. It was from this barbaric tale that the legend of Major Steuart’s haunting as a disembodied spirit began.

In 1897 the investigation into the activity took place. However, the claims bore an uncomfortable similarity to the tales of Borley Rectory with a ghostly nun even being thrown in for good measure. 

‘The most haunted house’ in Scotland was later denounced as a hoax with fraudulent investigators being outed for their blatant lies and the house was abandoned in 1932 and burnt down in 1963. 

Balornoch Poltergeist (Glasgow)

A couple years before Janet Hodgson started levitating in the middle of the night, Jeffrey and Derek Grieves began to hear knocking in the walls of their Glasgow home. The knocking continued to which point the police were later involved,

Their neighbours, the Keenans, were blamed for the noises and were arrested for the disturbances.

However - the knocking continued even when they were being questioned by the police.

The activity shortly escalated to the point that ashtrays were often reported levitating. The police then asked a professor of theology to investigate. The activity centred in the Grieves’ home: beds moved in a northerly direction, furniture flew through the air, the spirits tapped out ‘The Death March’, and Elizabeth Grieves even claimed the spirits contacted her and claimed they were the ghosts of miners killed in a mine where James Keenan was manager.

The Grieves tried to escape to their relatives but to no avail. The activity followed in close pursuit.

An exorcism was later conducted and things settled. Well, that was until the Grieves noticed how much media attention a similar situation in Newcastle was getting.

The poltergeist activity ramped up after that, and it even spread to the school of the children. The Grieves boys showed superhuman strength as if possessed and at one point threw their uncle across the room.

After James Keenan died the activity allegedly ceased.

Pete The Poltergeist (Cardiff)

Hauntings have a cause. Some kid whips out a ouija board, or maybe a seance is conducted by a drunken group of revellers - communication ignites activity. But sometimes, the cause isn’t needed.

The owners of Mower Services can testify to that. In the 1980s, John and Pat Matthews ran an automobile repair centre in Wales. But one day, their profitable trade was disturbed by a clattering noise.

Assuming it was children throwing stones, Pat’s brother investigated. He discovered no one. 

Insurance officials, police officers, priests - no one knew what was causing the increasing number of perplexing events. Temperature changes were felt around the centre, smells would waft through the air, and items would go missing before being found in odd and comical places such as a pair of keys stuck to the ceiling. 

Despite the mild inconvenience, the couple never found this poltergeist threatening. They even called it Pete - Pete the Poltergeist.

They soon began to conduct seances and asked Pete to show signs he was there. And he did. He started by throwing stones until they asked him to throw in specific items. Batteries, coins - they all landed in the circle on demand.

However, things escalated when customer interest increased. One day, Pete appeared in front of John. A thin, grey boy was huddled in the corner and staring at them with a featureless face. 

A brick was then hurled at Pat’s brother's face. Despite the comical activity in most cases, John and Pat decided to pack up shop and move on from the paranormal activity. This was unfortunately not the case, and Pete followed them.

They later consulted a medium who told them to smash everything the poltergeist interacted with. This appeared to work and the activity finally ended. 

‘It lived off me, off my energy. Call me mad if you like. Those events did happen. The poltergeist was with me and I feel that in a sense he always will be.’

Janet Hodgson, 2011

What’s your verdict?

Have you ever shacked up with a poltergeist?

Let me know in a comment below. 

Want to hear something spooky everyday? I post a new ghost story every day and a new article on the paranormal every Saturday so make sure you like, reblog, and hit follow!

[supernatural---imagines]

Girlfriend- Part 6: Clean Slate

Series summary: Sam’s suspicious behaviour has you and Dean curious enough to follow him, to find out he is meeting with a Demon in secret leaves you both in shock. Based on S4 demon blood story line with a darker ending.

Pairings: Dean x Reader, Sam x Ruby, Sam x Reader (Platonic) 

Chapter summary: Aftermath of the motel scene, angsty meet up between reader and Dean. The next part will have more action! Enjoy. 

MASTERLIST

You sat at your motel table looking through a magazine that had been left behind by the last resident. You had nothing to do and nowhere to go, you felt stuck. Your eyes scanned over the pages you had read multiple times already, but you weren’t willing to stop and let your mind wander to think about Sam and what he had become, to think about Dean and how betrayed he felt by your actions. You had let both men down, which was the last thing on earth you ever wanted to do, but worse the last thing they expected from you. 

You spent the past few days in the room, only ever leaving to go to the vending machine outside your room. You didn’t have any motivation to go anywhere, especially not hunting. The only place you wanted to go was home to Bobby’s but you knew you weren’t welcome there anymore.

You hadn’t heard from Sam since you last saw him, you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to see him again. Same for his brother, after he left two nights ago he made no attempt to contact you, although you didn’t try either. The way Dean left you really did hurt, but you were able to excuse his behaviour on account of his drunken and grief ridden state.

Your phone on the bed started to ring, you knew it’d be Bobby, he was the only person calling you lately. You dragged your feet over to it and picked it up.

"I'm real worried, Y/N" Bobby spoke down the phone before you could even say hello.

"I am too. I don't have a clue what's going on with either of them. Not even sure if Sam performed the ritual, although if he did kill Lilith I think we would've heard."

"You need to get down here and help your boyfriend" Bobby said in a scolding tone.

"Bobby we're not-"

"You have one little squabble and you're givin' up? He needs you now more than ever, I know he was with you a few nights ago, he was drunkenly rambling about it. I ain't never seen him like this" He ranted.

“He wont want me there” You spoke.

“Get your ass down here or so help me-”

"Fine.. I'll come over, but no promises he'll let me help him" you sighed as you hung up your phone and got off from the bed. You took your scrubby motel bathrobe off and swapped it for your dress and Dean's button down. Never did you think when you bought it two weeks ago that it would be the only thing you would be wear since. You put on your hunting boots and headed out the door.

You pulled up to Bobby's in around 15 minutes. You checked yourself in the car wing mirror to make sure you looked presentable before walking up the path to Bobby's front door. Conveniently, his car was gone. He had obviously left to give you a Dean some privacy and you weren't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. You felt nerves split through your body as you stood before the front door, you were not sure how he would react to seeing you. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you knocked the door. 

Dean came to the door with a defensive stance, relaxing slightly when he opened it to see you. That made you feel a lot better. 

"What do you want?" He sighed, rolling his eyes. It was all an act, you knew him inside out. But it still hurt the way he was treating you.

"We need to talk." You pushed past him into the house and straight to the fridge where you hoked out two beers. You opened them and handed one to Dean who was lingering in the living room. You sat down on the couch and patted for him to sit beside you, his stiff body moved towards it but opted to lean against the arm of the chair instead of next to you.

"Dean you literally just fucked me in a dodgy motel room two nights ago and now you can't sit beside me?" You snapped. He slid down the arm awkwardly and sat next to you, his body was tense and he gripped his beer tightly.

"Yeah, that was a mistake."

"Thanks." You spat, his actions and words were really starting to get to you, if he kept this attitude up you wouldn’t want to help him. He was able to turn himself into an entirely different person when he wasn’t in a good mood, but he has never been so cold with you before.

"I didn't mean-"

"It's fine. Not why i'm here." you interrupted. "I'm here to tell you wanted I wanted to in the motel before you fucked off leaving me feeling like some random whore"

Dean looked at you awkwardly, his expression flicking to a mix between a wince and a sympathetic smile before his gaze found his beer again. 

"I am genuinely really sorry for what I've done. I know I should've left the Sam thing alone." you started. His brothers name still made his face involuntarily twitch. "I know I've created this huge burden for you and I can't imagine how it feels."

Dean snapped up from the couch and began to pace. He was so irritated by your presence and it was clear. He wasn't ready to hear your apology, he didn't understand your reasoning and you weren't sure if he ever would. He brought his beer to his lips that weren't so long ago we're all over your body. He took a swig and then found himself leaning against Bobby's desk, arms defensively crossed over his body. 

"I love Sam a lot" You began to try and explain.

"Oh I know you do, I remember your little crush" he said pathetically childishly.

"Is that a joke?" You snapped.

"That's obviously why you're so obsessed with this and couldn't leave it alone like I asked" Dean conspired. He shook his head with a dry laugh when you reacted by jumping off your seat and charging over to him.

"I had a little crush for like a week! It was so long ago and so insignificant that i barely remembered it even happened. Are you being serious right now? I was fucking in love with you! Unfortunately for me, I still am!" 

"Unfortunately?" He snarled.

"When you act like a fucking baby and do nothing but hurt me day after day for a couple of weeks, yes it's pretty unfortunate."

His head dropped again and he avoided your gaze, he didn’t want you reading him like he knew you could. 

"Listen to me. I did what I did because I love your brother. I would do it for Bobby, for any one we care about. I thought I could reason with him, bring him home. I was wrong. He's too far gone, and he's only going to go deeper. I know I should've listened to you,"

"Yeah" dean scoffed.

"But whether I went or not, Sam would still be doing what he’s doing. The only difference is now we know, and we can stop him before things get even worse.” 

Dean finally seemed to be listening, he wasn’t tense, he wasn’t ready to fight, he was just silent soaking in your words. 

“The thing is though Dean, what I did, I had good intentions. Everything you’ve said and done to me was out of pure nastiness.” 

He closed his eyes and shook his head gently. He didn’t ever mean to hurt you, all he felt was betrayal from you choosing Sam over him, just like Sam chose blood over him. Although as you explained your actions, he began to realise you chose Sam for him and you really didn’t deserve the way he was treating you.

“How bad was he, Y/N?” He asked with a cracked voice.

“His eyes were black.” You whispered, thinking if you said it quietly it wouldn’t hurt him as much. 

You could almost see Dean’s heart breaking inside him, his face winced was he tried to keep back tears and his body folded. You hated how much you cared for him, how shitty he was being to you but no matter what you would always be there for him. You set down your beer and carefully placed your hands on his slumped shoulders, waiting for a bad reaction from him. He melted under your touch and fell into you, the dams in his tear ducts burst as he collapsed and weaped into your embrace. You shushed him and stood with him until he was composed. 

“I am sorry too.” He finally spoke again. “I shouldn’t have came round to your motel room and then left the way I did. I’ve treated one night stands better than that, and I’m embarrassed. You’re the love of my life and you deserve far more respect than I’ve been giving you lately.” 

“I appreciate that.” You stepped back from him but he grabbed your hand and held it as you faced him. His thumb grazed the back of your hand gently. 

“You can come back if you want, if you’ll forgive me for kicking you out how I did.” He spoke with pleading eyes that were on the brink of tears. “I get what you did was for all of us, for the good of this family. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” 

“We both fucked up.” 

“Clean slate?” He asked as he stood from the desk and towered over you. Your eyes looked up into his, the look they had been giving you the past while was long gone and the loving gaze of your boyfriend seemed to have returned.

“Clean slate.” You closed your eyes as he brought his lips to yours and breathed you in, it felt like a lifetime since he’d touched you like this. Your free hand rested on his stubbled cheek and kept him close to you. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead on yours smiling.

“So i’m the love of your life then?” You asked cheekily. 

“Always.” He began to kiss you once more when when Bobby barged in startling you both. 

“OK love birds break it up. We got some serious work to do.”

READ PART 7