#road violence

[whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx]

Chat, I regret to inform you that I have added a new hyperfixation…so…

Agatha All Along Incorrect Quotes!

Alice: Hold the fuck up.

Also Alice, crawling into Lilia’s lap: It’s me. I’m the fuck up. Hold me.

Rio: I have an idea!

Jen: No murder.

Rio, sighing petulantly: I no longer have an idea.

Lilia: I have a bad feeling about this…

Agatha: What do you mean?

Alice: Don’t you ever get that little voice in the back of your head that tells you if something is going to get you in trouble?

Agatha: No.

Jen: That actually explains so much.

Lilia: As far back as I can remember, I’ve always had this little voice in my head telling me to “live it up today, because there’s not gonna be a lot of tomorrows”.

Agatha: You do realize there’s medication designed to get rid of those kinds of voices, right?

Teen: A bird flew in through my window and I’m trying to befriend it.

*later*

Agatha: Why don’t you quit bothering me and go talk to your bird friend?

Teen: Matthew and I are not speaking at the moment.

*the coven, huddling together behind a makeshift shelter to shield themselves from repeated gunshots*

Alice, hastily shoving the others behind her so she can return fire: Agatha, do you have any idea who would want to shoot you?!

Agatha, squashed between Jen and Rio: Many people want to shoot me. I take great pride in that!

Jen, glaring at the group as she hands over bail money:

Alice, tapping her shoulder: What about Teen?

Jen, glaring more: I’ve got to bail him out too? Where’s Agatha?

Teen: No one called her. We used Lilia’s phone call to call Alice and Rio’s to call you. Then Rio used my phone call to vote for American Idol.

Rio: :)

Jen: Rio isn’t answering her phone.

Agatha: Here, I’ll try.

Jen: Alice and I have tried six times each, what makes you think that-

Rio, picking up on the first ring: Hey, sweetheart.

Agatha: The ends always justify the means!

Jen: Do you know who said that?

Agatha: Was it Oprah or someone nice and great like that?

Jen: It was Machiavelli. A decidedly non-Oprah like person.

Jen: I bet you didn’t even finish the thing I asked you to get done!

Agatha: For your information, I most certainly did! Got it done last night!

Teen, whispering to Agatha: You didn’t get it done, did you?

Agatha, whispering back: I don’t even know what she’s talking about.

Lilia: I am at a loss for words!

Teen, glancing at the camera like his mom like he’s on The Office: Despite being lost for words, Lilia yelled at us for the next 45 minutes.

Agatha, carrying Señor Scratchy out of the room:

Señor Scratchy: *snuggles under her chin*

Agatha, kissing his head: You are being punished. Please stop being adorable. I love you.

Teen: I got a trampoline tent for summer sleepovers!

Jen, whispering to the other adult witches: …think of all the sex.

Alice: There are two types of people.

Rio: If you wanted to eat someone, you could put a fire under it and slowly roast them :)

Lilia: …three. Three types of people.

Jen, cautiously: I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before, but…Teen, you are a little crazy.

Teen: Aren’t we all a little crazy here, Jen?

Jen: No, I mean you’re aging-ballerina, child-chess-prodigy, professional magician kind of crazy.

Teen: It’s my mom’s fault. You know, we come from a Jewish family, but she used to tell me the reason Santa didn’t come was because my room was too dirty.

Rio: I’ve come looking for trouble. And if I can’t find trouble, I WILL create some.

Alice: Do you trust me?

Lilia, smiling proudly at her: Yes.

Alice, who has been completely panicking: Wait, what? Why?!

Agatha, awkwardly glancing around for help: Er…Alice, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know what to say to people who are crying. So I’m just gonna hope that the tone of my voice makes you think I do, okay, sweetie?

Alice, sniffling: …thanks, Agatha.

Agatha, patting her on the back with a bit too much enthusiasm: No problem, kid.

Lilia: I told Agatha about it weeks ago!

Teen: She WHAT?

Agatha: What??? Lilia says insane shit all the time, how was I supposed to know this one was true?!

Lilia: Bank accounts are a sham created by the shadow government!

Agatha: SEE?!

BONUS:

Wanda, watching from the afterlife: so…when exactly do kids grow out of that whole emo, rebellious stage?

Lorna, shrugging: I don’t know. Alice is still in it.

[pressuredrightnow]

yellow brick road leads to the wizard? WRONG. for elphaba it leads to glinda who chose that color and everyday shes tempted to walk it even with her powers just to see her again.

[elektroskopik]

I was there in attendance. It was an honest and heartfelt ceremony.

November 2024 News & Updates: World Day of Remembrance for Road Traffic Victims; NCAT Dinner; Magazine Photo Shoot

Dear Friend of the Farmington Canal Greenway,

We wanted to wish you a happy holiday season and provide you with a few important updates:

* World Day of Remembrance For Road Traffic Victims, Sunday, November 17, 1 - 2:30pm, Goffe Street Park

We are honored to have the statewide commemoration event for World Day of Remembrance for Road Traffic Victims in New Haven this year, at Goffe Street Park. Hope you can join us on November 17 at 1pm for this powerful event remembering victims of traffic violence in New Haven and around the state. Please let us know if you can volunteer at the event (or just show up by 11am the morning of the event to help with set-up).

RSVP and share the event on Facebook: https://facebook.com/events/s/world-day-of-remembrance-for-r/1065007801646997/

* New Haven Coalition for Active Transportation (NCAT) Bike / Walk / Transit Community Networking Dinner, November 19, 6-8pm

As always, thank you for your ongoing support. 

Aaron G. New Haven Friends of the Farmington Canal Greenway www.newhavencanalfriends.orgfacebook.com/NewHavenCanalFriends

[one-time-i-dreamt]

The Crossy Road chicken and the Duolingo owl fought to the death. The Crossy Road chicken won.

[st-just]

I don't judge people who nigh-exclusively read fanfiction (writ large), but I admit I do get like, confused by the people who proudly proclaim how they only read different ten thousand different iterations of (functionally) the same characters going through the same few meet-cutes and romcom tropes.

Does it not get tedious?

[arsonistic-tendencies]

The Road of Death is a peaceful one, if you simply Accept it

Today was the Day as Brutus had told him. he was all packed up and Ready for their little........... Trip to find john.... He had said his goodbyes though they didn't know...... Now the Hard part........ " Goodbye John " He muttered leaving a bouquet of hells bells on the table...... His final gift the vines seemed to almost spread around his room.

"Ready?" The Demon cooed holding out a hand, Delicate to the touch despite all the Callous's and scars that ran across her body. Her line of work an easy exuse for all the scars that lined her body.

The boy nodded reluctantly placing his own, He wore something different than what he usually did figured he should leave a keepsake of some sort. His red hair had grown out enough it could be held in loose braids granted it didn't stick.

Loose strands stuck out despite the careful care he had put into his hair. He had painted his pointed nails green and wore a simple striped polo that cropped around his stomach. His loose pants hung at his hips kept up by a belt that stuck out. He had done up his face earlier wearing eyeliner and brown lipliner before finishing with dark red lipstick. He fixed the much too big Jean jacket over his shoulders as he finnished putting on the gold chain around his neck from earlier.

"Can I just do one last reading before we leave?" He asked quietly his tarot deck in hand as he shuffled them out of habit. "Be quick about it the clock is ticking child" She hummed as she stretched her tail flicked as she did. He nodded pulling out a set of cards as he thought about his question spreading them out, They always shifted through there was one that always stuck out one of the major arcana.... Death.

Something big was going to happen...... WHAT was it he wasn't sure.

"Alright Times up kiddo lets go. " She huffed pulling him to his feet. And guiding him through the door, "I know a cozy little place outta town. She spoke placing her hat on Atropos's head. "But it's going to be hot soo you're not getting sun burnt on my watch!" She spoke with a smile. Trying to fill the motherly role as she had promised flicking her fingers a portal opened different from Atropis's it was a bloody red as sigils were spread around it.

He seemed reluctant to step through, Sensing the hesitation Brutus lifted the boy on her shoulder with a smile. "The portal isn't going to bite 'ya love perhaps not as flashy as your dark magic but safe nonetheless " She spoke cheerily as they walked through onto a farm.

Wait this wasnt?- he felt weak as the room spun visions of the worst possible scenarios rushing through his mind as he felt someone catch him.

@jamie-todd-red-knight @itsconstantinebitch

[moeblob]

He identifies as a villain and he wants to become a god but he's not doing the best job at being bad. Aside from ticking off the gods, he's done nothing but good - though claiming it's in the name of evil.

Himst: WHY would anyone of actual intelligence rely on such petty tactics as brainwashing or enchanting? So much can go wrong! On the other hand, I have a devoted following who will do as I say! (because he quite literally saved the lives of a town and they appreciate their savior)

[iamirhen]

Just a normal Hillrock Heights kid.

A not-cropped, text free version of the original panel of this fancomic.

You can find Hunter's portrait here.

Feel free to download, just don't repost without credit.

[mournfulroses]

Chelsea Wolfe, from her song titled "Mother Road," featured in the album Birth of Violence

[deepestconnoisseurmoon]

The Passenger (2023)

Dir. Carter Smith

[witchofthemidlands]

(off screen) fourteen when kate, unit, fifteen & ruby with a steel chair shows up at his door after encountering eldritch horrors from all corners of the universe & beyond, being scared for life & after, potentially releasing the pantheon of discord & ruby possibly being either a supernatural entity or something connecting to the pantheon/the trickster demanding to know why he thought it would be a grand idea to invoke a superstition at the edge of the universe.

[sammayrin]

allen is better than me because if that many people apologized or expressed remorse for trying to kill me and/or fucking me over royally and then continued to try to kill me/fuck me over, I would have a body count. I’d be swinging. all the time.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

just a quick stop

finally, the full fic of weird fluffy kist that i have been agonizing over...

(cw: violence, minor character death, a bit spicy - lime on the citrus scale)

killer and dust have been trekking through the dark endless space for a while. killer has been chattering nonstop, filling the empty void with his voice, which dust appreciates. were he to be left floundering in the silence, he'd go crazy just like the many unfortunate souls that have stumbled into this non-place.

this "multiverse station" doesn't seem to have an attendant, only an eerie display of monster dust and decayed human bodies scattered sparsely throughout. yet, killer doesn't seem to be deterred a single bit. he's confidently announced that they would get out of here and back on track to their scheduled date in a mobfell universe.

"trust me, honeyboo," killer gestures with his hand waving around like an excited kid. he's leading dust with his other with his other hand nestled in dust's. the handhold is securely warm in contrast to the chilly void. "my intuition is never wrong. we're definitely on the right path."

your boyfriend is a dumbass, brother, papyrus sighs, floating next to dust.

"i know, bro," he murmurs, smirking into his scarf.

killer turns around, as if hearing what he said. "huh? have something to say, dusty?"

"nothing. guide us through this darkness, o wise guy," dust replies.

killer tilts his head, his signature grin widening. "sure thing, lover boy~"

they walk and walk and walk until dust sees something in the far distance - a white light in the black void. killer, still holding his hand, runs towards the light. dust stumbles as he's dragged along. as they get closer to the light, dust can see it is fragments of some sort of dilapidated train station. there sit three wooden benches in various stages of damage. next to one is a sign in an undecipherable language, along with an equally incomprehensible map, probably of the available pathways. a single bright lamp illuminates the area. as killer fawns over the map, dust stands back idly and makes a mistake looking up at the lamp post - he quickly turns away when he realizes there is a white soul trapped inside the lantern, pulsing slowly. fortunately, before dust can think about it, killer whistles at him and beckons him over.

when dust languidly makes over to killer, the hybrid-souled being speaks animatedly, "looks like we're at this stop point," he points to a faded star mark on the map. "if we want to make it to our destination, we can just go straight ahead from here."

killer traces a long-winded path to another symbol on the map. dust doesn't claim to know much about the jumble that is multiverse travel, so he has no choice but to trust his partner.

"but how can we travel to there?" he asks. "your token is out of juice."

killer gives him an impish grin. "we wait."

and so wait they do. the couple rests on the bench nearest to the station sign, with dust sitting in a corner and killer lounging indulgently, wrapping one arm behind dust's shoulders. bored out of his mind, dust pulls out his cigarette pack and puts one in his mouth. he searches for the lighter in his pockets, only to hear a click right next to him. turning to his left, he sees killer holding out the lighter with the flame on, an inviting wink flashing his face. amused, dust leans in to light the end of the cig, keeping his gaze on killer, whose cheshire smile doesn't wane the whole time. dust leans back and lets out a puff of smoke. he can feel killer's gaze on him.

"so, what else can you put in your mouth, bunny?"

dust glances at killer from the corner of his eye socket. the other skeleton is resting his chin on his closed fist, a mischievous grin on his face. dust looks him up and down before replying dryly.

"you're that bored?"

"maybe i am. maybe you should help me entertain myself."

dust scoffs lightly, but still indulges his boyfriend. "you want a fight then?"

"if that fight involves that mouth of yours, then yeah."

without further prompting, killer slides off his seat and crawls into dust's lap, kneeling over his slouching figure. from dust's point of view, the white light from the lamp washes over killer like a soft halo, his face obscured by the darkness, only somewhat lit by that red soul of his. the shape of the soul is wavering somewhere between an upside-down heart and a target, making dust consider killer carefully. extinguishing the cig on the handle of the bench, he slowly reaches his hand to cup killer's cheek.

"this okay?" he asks quietly, to which killer answers, nuzzling into his hand.

"yeah."

dust guides killer down towards him and nips the corner of his mouth, trailing small pecks along the jaw. he feels killer shiver and doubles his efforts, quickly moving his mouth down killer's neck - or at least the parts not covered by killer's turtleneck that is - while helping killer taking his jacket off his body. dust lets his teeth graze near the nape of killer's neck, smirking into the turtleneck when he feels killer grabbing onto his arms and pulling him closer. dust complies, snaking his hand up inside killer's shirt while teasing him with lazy kisses and half-licks around his mandible. killer's bones are scarred under dust's hand, but dust pays them no mind as he lightly caresses his lover's sternum.

impatient, killer grabs dust's skull with both hands and pulls him into a biting kiss, nipping and growling into it, which only stirs dust into doing the same. the wet, breathy sounds of them exploring each other's mouths echo in the empty void. killer lightly grinds on dust's lap, smiling as he feels dust jerk in surprise. the hooded skeleton only tightens his grip on killer's lower ribs, which prompts a quiet moan out of killer.

but there's something else too, a piercing whine coming out of somewhere.

dust is the first to pull back, his face flushing blue and his tone breathless as he whispers, "did you hear that?"

killer smirks at him, not looking as out of breath as his lover is. "might be our ticket out of here."

with that, they hide behind the rubble of the station, both of them eagerly watching whichever unfortunate soul has wandered in here. it's not long before they see a dog monster approach the bright lamp and survey the map, looking as confused as dust was previously. killer and dust look at each other, silently communicating with their eyes, before each of them move in the opposite direction, effectively circling their unknowing victim.

killer is fast, throwing a knife at the dog monster before dust can formulate a plan. the dog monster startles and howls as the knife penetrates into their thigh. they collapse, and dust, not wanting killer to steal his kill, quickly raises a barrage of bones piercing through their head, dusting them right away. it's all over under one minute.

"aw babe, really?" killer whines as dust feels the exp running through his body, making him shiver. "you gotta have to take those measly exp?"

dust shrugs. "payback for last time you stole my kill."

killer sticks out his tongue, unapologetic. "i still have next time. by the way, what's in their inventory?"

dust, as the winner of the short-lived battle, rustles through the dust pile to see some gold coins, a notebook of some kind, and finally a travel token. picking up the token, he checks the thing for any forgery then throws it at killer. killer catches the thing with one hand and inspects it with his softly lit eyelight.

"is it enough?" dust asks, relieved to see killer nod.

"should be enough for our trip. we can always take more from another."

"finally," dust breathes out, and killer chuckles, putting his arm around dust's shoulders.

"don't be so impatient, mon beau," he whispers near dust's skull. "after the dinner, we can continue what we did back there."

dust stares at killer, trying hard to stop the blush forming on his face. he mumbles angrily as both of them swiftly disappears from the station. truly, killer should be glad he's dust's boyfriend, else he would be forced to eat concrete right now.

[coweringnarcissus]

hi i'm a newcomer here, just passing through as i try my hand at the offline practice mode, but i'm charmed by the dynamic between heavy and medic conveyed through many of the fan works & wanted to discreetly slide a napkin with the titles of older songs i've listened to today that reminded me of them across the metaphorical table we're both sitting at.

strangers in the night (frank sinatra)

from russia with love (matt monro; is that one too on the nose?)

i get along without you very well (except sometimes) (chet baker)

speak low (frank sinatra; as in "speaking low" to hide their relationship from the other merc's on the compound.)

but not for me (chet baker; "i've found more clouds of grey than any russian play could guarantee" oh, banger.)

my funny valentine (chet baker; but the lyrics - "is your figure less than greek? is your mouth a little weak? when you open it to speak are you smart?" - reflect how heavy is insulted & undermined by the other mercs, in contrast to medic, who appreciates his competence, intelligence, and person entirely.)

much of sinatra's v-disc album features songs about short, passionate love in a very "if we don't get tomorrow, let's cherish tonight" manner that seems compatible with an anguished portrayal of their relationship.

thank you for reading! please share your thoughts!

[myheartisbro-ken]

Okay, I've been having some thoughts about the actual dangers of The Road as created by Billy, and despite me previously believing Billy subconsciously made the trials deadly because people kept telling him The Road will kill you (I still believe that's some part of it) I don't think Billy had a part in anything that was actually dangerous aside from the the ceiling of swords, which I think it was more a representation of his struggles than anything else

Hear me out!!

Yeah, they were all poisoned in the first trial, but they were also given the exact ingredients needed for the antidote, and the only reason Sharon died is because they forgot about her while making the antidote and didn't add her hair in it, so she was given a potion that wasn't made to work for her. Billy/The Road didn't kill Sharon, Jen's potion did.

Lillia was the one who said they were going to have to face their fears, and like Rio said 'magick took the path of less resistance' and gave them an existing poison that makes people hallucinate. And it was Agatha breaking the glass that made it possible for the water to get in, and even so, it only broke fully after the timer went off.

The second trial only unleashed Alice's existing family curse. Billy didn't know, couldn't have known, that the curse left the burning scars, that it was physically clinging to Alice's shoulder all that time, he didn't make her lose her jobs before they met, the curse already existed. For all Billy knew, Alice was fully protected against it because of the tattoo.

Agatha's trial was literally just a regular ouija session that went wrong because Agatha broke the rules because she didn't like what her mom's ghost had to say. The only real danger there was Agatha and her powers. Which was what killed Alice, as we know.

The Salem's Seven weren't Billy's creation, nor did he call them into The Road, Rio's summoning was what left the trail for them to follow Agatha.

The swords, I feel like, were the most physically dangerous a trial was just because, and that was basically all of the witchy clichés shoved in a room. And we all understand Lillia died from her own choices, right?

Sure, Billy created The Road in the image of what he pictured it would be, shoved with all the witchy clichés he surrounded himself with, because he was desperate to belong with other witches and be accepted by them and have a coven of his own. But he was not all that responsible for the actual dangers they were presented with.

[altschmerzes]

🌹- can you give us some Frank's shenanigans from drive the wedge please? 🥺I'm sorry I'm a bit obsessed with this fic of yours

aaaabsolutely and dont be sorry, im also obsessed and i appreciate nothing more than being given excuses to talk about it and share clips XD the thing is 20k now if you can believe that

this is from chapter 1, some of his very earliest shenanigans and some of the mildest. but it does uh. set the stage. we also get some of river being a brat at the worst possible opportunity for him to do so

“So, have you worked out who I am yet?” There’s an air of smugness around the question. River glares Frank and thinks about how satisfying it would be to watch him keel over dead of a fucking aneurysm right now, right in three… two… one… Ah. Fuck. Guess not, then.

“Sure have,” River says, his words clipped and dripping with loathing that he doesn’t make even the slightest effort to hold back. “You’re a fucking psycho.”

Frank doesn’t react, not obviously. He doesn’t say anything and his face doesn’t change, he just keeps that faintly smug look, leaning back in his chair and watching River with hard eyes. The silence starts to grow heavy after several long seconds and it continues to grow heavier as it drags on after that. It’s a threatening kind of silence, which feels insane to think, except that this whole situation is insane, so maybe that’s relative.

It must have been at least a full minute that passes without a single word from either of the other men in the room when River starts to really regret what he’d said. Maybe it was a bad idea, he thinks with that voice from before echoing in his head again, to antagonize the people who were holding him prisoner. But nothing happens. Nothing happens except that Patrice stands unmovingly by and Frank stares with those unflinching eyes and River doesn’t feel any better for it.

“I’ll let that one slide, since you’ve had a very big day and are probably dealing with a lot of shock and some pretty massive changes in your life,” is what he eventually says. His voice is calm but there is no give to it. “But make no mistake, River, this is your one and only free pass. It won’t happen again. The next time you mouth off to me, you will pay for it, just like any of my sons would.”

Nausea takes River’s gut in a fist and twists. He regrets the psycho jab for a different reason now than just the violence consequence it has been made so clear to him that he has narrowly avoided in response to it. No, it had cost him something — River can never go back and be the first the acknowledge what he has known since looking at those postcards to be true. This is his father. This man, who had looped a plastic-coated steel cord around his neck and tightened it until it bit into his skin, is his father, and River had wanted to be the first one to say it, to take that one tiny, meaningless piece of power. And now Frank has taken it instead, because River decided to shoot off his mouth.