#stealing postal letters

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"THREE-YEAR TERM FOR YOUTH WHO STOLE LETTERS," Toronto Star. October 15, 1912. Page 1 & 6. ---- Judge Denton Gave William Albon the Smallest Sentence Possible. --- SENTENCE DAY IN THE SESSIONS ---- Italian Who Used Razor on Fellow-Countryman Also Given Three Years. --- SOME WERE LET OFF --- Verney Pennoch Was Given Four Months for Burglary - Many Were Disposed Of. ---

Wm. Albon, theft, 3 years.

Dominic Rosso, wounding, 3 years.

Wm. J. Cottrell, perjury, 6 months.

John Gowans, assault, 6 months.

Verney Pennoch, burglar, 4 months.

Joseph Davis, assault, 3 months.

Arthur Scholes, housebreaking, 3 months.

Charles Hall, assault, $50 fine or 1 months.

Frank McCarron, theft, 30 days.

Wilfrid Walcyn, theft, suspended sentence.

David Applebaum, theft, suspended sentence.

Abraham Manhan, theft, suspended sentence.

David Reece, theft, suspended sentence.

Joseph Re, theft, suspended sentence.

John J. Foley, theft, suspended sentence.

Ernest McRae, theft, suspended sentence.

Clinton Shaw, theft, suspended sentence.

Thomas A. Bruce, theft, suspended sentence.

"These people have got to learn that they must keep their razors off other people's throats."

With this remark Judge Denton this morning sentenced Dominic Rosso, an Italian, [[pictured, top] charged with wounding with intent, to spend three years in Kingston Penitentiary. Rosso was the first of about thirty persons, found guilty in the Sessions and in sittings of the County Criminal Court, to come up for sentence.

"I hope the sentence will be a warning to his fellow countrymen."

John Gowans goes to the Central Prison for six months for a serious offence. 'I am told that he is feeble-minded," pleaded T. C. Robinette, K.C., but Judge Denton declared that his long record was against him. He served two years in 1899, terms for theft in 1894-97-99, and one this year. [Gowans would later be sentenced to the penitentiary in 1918...]

Harry Rollings, also up on a serious offence, was remanded for sentence. His Honor wanted to enquire into his case further.

Long Term for Theft. On two charges of the theft of registered letters, William Albon, a clean-cut, looking young man, was given three years in Kingston Penitentiary - the least possible under the code. It is said that the young fellow, who was employed as a clerk in the post office, received only about $4 in money.

Verney Pennock, convicted of burglary and assault, was sent down for four months. He broke into Alexander Cameron's livery stable on Keele street and stole five books of Exhibition tickets.

Sentence was suspended for two weeks in the case of David W. Ross and Morley Wilson, charged with taking W. E. Radcliffe's automobile from In front of the Grand Union Hotel. The young men, who were somewhat the worse for liquor, went for a "joy ride," which ended at an early hour in the morning. The motor car was damaged to the extent of $60. Mr. Robinette pleaded for leniency on the score of youth and good character, specially in the case of Wilson.

Three Months For Theft. "He pays too much attention to athletics and has not been well. The trouble is that he is overstrained," was the plea of T. C. Robinette in the case of Arthur Scholes, champion mile runner of Canada, and who came third at the Ward Marathon games last Saturday. He had pleaded guilty to the theft of two diamond rings from No. 190 Garden avenue, where he had gone to do papering.

"The man who was with me told me that the rings were lying there. First I said not to take them, and then I picked them up on the impulse of the moment as we were leaving. I gave one to him, and gave the other to a friend."

"A woman friend?" asked his Honor. "Yes."

The young man's father and mother both pleaded hard.

"What happened to the other man?" was asked. "He turned King's evidence."

"I can't afford to let you go," said his Honor, "you will spend three months in jail."

A fine of $50 and costs or two months in jall was the sentence given Charles Hall for assaulting Evelyn Ferris.

His Honor started to read a list of previous convictions when Hall declared: "You must have me mixed up with somebody else. I didn't do those things."

"That must be another case," suggested Crown Attorney Greer. "Why don't they do things right in the Police Court?" said his Honor with some heat, then turning to the prisoner he asked: "What terms have you served?"

"I was in jail once for six months and once for eight months."

"Both for assault?"

"No, just one of them."

Six Months For Perjury. William J. Cottrell, found guilty of perjury in a damage suit against the Toronto Railway Company, stood up quite calmly to receive sentence. He was chewing gum. He wanted to call witnesses to testify to his good character.

"You are found guilty on a very serious charge," said Judge Denton, "Perjury is one of the worst of crimes, and

"I could send you to the penitentiary for a very long time. You probably didn't realize what you were doing."

"It was all a mistake your Worship." broke in the prisoner eagerly.

"The evidence showed it was much more than a mistake. You probably, when you found yourself in that suit against the street railway, thought that you could win by stretching your statements a little. I have spoken to a number of people about you and they all speak highly of your character."

"If your Worship will let me go on suspended sentence I promise" interrupted Cottrell.

"I cannot do that" said the judge gravely. "You will be sent to the Central Prison for six months."

Was Allowed to Go. Wilfrid B. Watclyn, guilty of the theft of an automobile from the Shaw Overland Sales Company was allowed to go on suspended sentence. "He is making reparation," his Honor was told.

George Westman was remanded for sentence on the charge against him of stealing oil waste from the Simpson Wool and Knitting Company. Mr. Greer was told to investigate his story.

Three months was the sentence meted out to Joseph Davis, convicted of a serious offence. The girl, who was his second cousin, was feeble-minded. Davis' reputation in the past was excellent, and Judge Denton was lenient.

Rev. J. D. Morrow bore testimony to the good character of Albert Copley. convicted of hitting Walter Dwyer over the head after having consumed several bottles of beer. "I have every hope of reforming him," said the athletic parson. "He is a member of my church." The judge remanded him for two weeks for sentence.

G. B. Cates, for false pretences, was remanded for two weeks. He sold $210 worth of stock to Mrs. G. B. Thomas in the Artificial Ice and Distilled Water Company, a concern which was not in existence, and was given a chance to make good to Mrs. Thomas. Because Julius Bachrack is away on business, he and his brother, Emanuel, will come up again for sentence for conspiring to procure an illegal operation, in two weeks, as will David W. Ross and Morley Wilson, theft. The cases of Estella Smith, theft; Norman Tansley, indecent assault; F. A. Mansell, false pretences, were all stood over.

Remanded For Sentence. Harol Harold McKee, convicted of obtaining money under false pretences from his employers was remanded for sentence till the December Sessions. He was anxious to make restitution and was gradually doing so out of his wages.

The same treatment was accorded to Arthur Doyle, convicted of criminal negligence, who took a motor-car from in front of Shea's Theatre last July, and went for a joy ride. His sentence will depend on the efforts he makes to make good the damage.

Sixty days is the sentence on Frank McCarron for horse stealing. He hired a horse and later, together with another man, sold it. "It's cost me $200 now. I got all the blame, while the other man was discharged," exclaimed the prisoner, but he was sent down, nevertheless.

David Applebaum, Abraham Manhan, David Reece, ranging in ages from 16 to 20 years, employed at Hanlan's Point, where they stole amounts of from 70 cents to $10, were allowed to go on suspended sentence. Joseph Re, who got two $5 instead of one in making a sale also had sentence suspended.

Clinton Shaw and Ernest McRae, found guilty of stealing solder from J. C. McFadden, were allowed to go on suspended sentence. Both are of youthful appearance.

[AL: Albon was 17, born in Toronto, a first time offender, and was convict #F-485 at Kingston Penitentiary. He worked as a clerical assistant in a workshop, had no reports against him for breaking the prison rules, and was paroled in late 1913. Rosso was 29, born in Italy, a labourer on the docks, and had never been in the penitentiary before - he was convict #F-486 and worked in the quarry. He had no reports and was released in early 1915.]

[phoward89]

Masterlist

WARNING ⚠️: Coryo is his own warning in and of himself. Delusional!Coryo, Soft!Dark!Coryo, Soft!Dom!Coryo, Reader has some survival instincts, Reader knows keeping Coryo happy keeps her alive and well, cussing, possession, obsession, slight manipulation, threats of harm, threats of rape, threats of violation, choking, murder threats

Chapter 7:

Coriolanus has been on Peacekeeper duty for the last 3 days. It sucks because Sejanus isn't with him. Instead he's doing his medic training at the infirmary with the Matron, leaving Coriolanus to do street patrols on his own.

But today he's on watch duty at the Peacekeeper Uniform Factory. His partner’s some grunt he’s barely even talked to. Honestly, he doesn't care to get to know the grunt since he's not sticking around much longer.

Coriolanus is taking his Elite Officer's Exam tomorrow; he knows he'll pass with flying colors. He can't wait to get you out of 8, to be able to claim you as his wife on legal documents and paperwork. Coriolanus sent a letter to Pluribus Bell about your father and one to Strabo Plinth as well, so he's hoping to receive some responses with some advice on how to move forward with inquiring about the asset law of Colonel Javanis Halvir for you.

Coriolanus grappled with the idea of writing to Dr. Gaul, but then decided against it. The woman, after all, was a bit crazy and had planned on killing all of the leftover tributes in the arena with her rainbow snakes; if he didn't cheat then there wouldn't have been a victor for the 10th Hunger Games. So, he decided not to contact Dr. Gaul. God forbid the woman wants you to return to the Capitol, to be rescued from your abandonment in the Districts for so long.

Yea…

Coriolanus isn't giving you up for anything. You're his wife; that makes you his responsibility. He's your protector since you're now Mrs. Snow. That gives him power; no one's going to take that away from him.

Coriolanus is dressed in his denim fatigues, his lanky frame leaning against the concrete wall as he keeps an eye on the women and teenagers that're working the loom machines. His icy blue eyes have been staring a hole into your once sister-in-law’s head, but that's mostly because she keeps giving him nasty looks. But that's fine with him; not like he cares what she thinks about him anyways.

In fact he hates Ashlie for abandoning you in a strange place; for being the cause of you to stoop down so low to stealing- to getting punished by the lash.

Yes!

Coryo has the audacity to shoulder the entire blame of your whipping onto your once sister-in-law. He refuses to take responsibility for it. He ‘loves’ you (more like he's head over heels obsessed with you) and refuses to believe that his greed and overwhelming need to impress his superiors hurt you in any way.

Plus you love him and married him. If he hurt you why would you have done that?

Yea…

Private Snow’s thick skull doesn't grasp that you latched onto him for pure survival- got somewhat of a Stockholm syndrome going on with him. Can't bite the hand that feeds you, eh?

Eh…Coriolanus feels like he's in for a long day. It's not even noon yet and he's already ready to take a break. And he can't help, but to wonder how your day’s going so far.

Ah, to be young, in love, and a newlywed.

You're making yourself a simple sandwich for lunch whenever a knock sounds at your door. You're not expecting anybody, so you're a little taken aback. Your husband's at work until the evening and you don't really have any friends in 8.

So, tentatively, you approach the door and open it. Standing before you is a postal worker, but not just any postal worker- one with a Peacekeeper postal uniform on. On the ground by their feet’s a large wooden crate.

What the?...

“I have a delivery for a Coriolanus Snow and a Y/N Snow? Are one of them present to sign for the package?” The postal worker asks, holding a clipboard with an attached pen.

You simply answer the postal worker with, “I'm Y/N Snow.”

Without a word, the Peacekeeper postal worker hands you the clipboard; which you take and sign your name on in the required spot before handing it back.

“Have a nice day, Ma’am.” The postal worker tips their hat at you before walking down the hall; leaving you alone with the crate.

You picked up the crate, which wasn't too heavy, and brought it into the house. Once you set it down, you read the return label. The name on it was The Plinths. You quickly realized that Sejanus' family sent Coriolanus something. You knew that they're friends from the Academy in the Capitol that joined the Peacekeepers together.

Well, it's nice that they sent your husband something.

But then you remember that the postal worker had said the package was for Coriolanus and Y/N Snow. Oh boy, so did they send you something in the crate too? And how did they know that Coriolanus got married? You've only been married for 3 days. Did they just assume or did Sejanus get a hold of his parents and tell them. How fast does Peacekeeper mail travel?

They say curiosity killed the cat, but it didn't kill you.

You opened the crate, with the help of a bottle opener that you used to pry the wooden lid off, and saw that inside of the crate was a few wrapped packages and a tin. Oh, so the Plinths sent Christmas presents. That's very nice of them.

You take the packages and the tin out, only to place them on them on the kitchen table. Then you realize that you don't have a Christmas tree to place the presents under. You'll have to talk to Your husband about it when Coryo gets home.

During the factory’s lunch break Coriolanus is stuck watching the workers gather in a breakroom while waiting for his relief to come. His partner's relief showed up, but not Private Snow's. Talk about shit luck.

So, Coriolanus stands up straight in the break room, watching over the factory workers with some scurvy looking Peacekeeper a few yards away from him.

Coriolanus narrows his icy eyes as he watches Ashlie shake her head at her co-worker and stand up from her lunch table. What's she up to?

“Why's she heading over here?” The scurvy Peacekeeper asked Coriolanus.

“She knows my wife.” Was Coriolanus’ curt answer.

“You got a wife?” The Peacekeeper by the platinum um blonde asked, his brow skewed up curiously.

“By District 8 rituals, yea.” Coriolanus nodded. “I got a wife.”

“You know that ain't allowed. Better keep it a secret.”

“You gonna tell on me?” Private Snow asked, his face stony, as he looked the scurvy guy next to him in the eye.

“No.” The Peacekeeper next to Coriolanus shook his head. “I don't care what you do, but there's some people that would sell that kind of information to further themselves.”

Little did the scurvy Peacekeeper know that Coriolanus is one of those people who'll sell out somebody for the upper hand; to get ahead.

“I need to talk to you.” Ashlie told Coriolanus as she came to a stop right in front of him. Looking between your husband and his fellow peacekeeper, she added in, “Privately.”

“Fine.” Coriolanus told her. “I'll be in the hall with her; I won't be long.” He told the peacekeeper before turning and leading your once sister-in-law out into the hallway.

Once in the hallway, he sneered, “What's so important that a whore like you had to seek me out for?”

“One of the girls says that she saw you in the market the other day buying supplies for a handfasting.” Ashlie's eyes welled up with sorrow as she begged, “Please, tell me you didn't marry my sister.”

“Y/N’s not your sister. Her dead brother was your meal ticket, but that doesn't make her your sister.” Coriolanus coldly told the factory worker. “In fact, she's shit to you since you abandoned her shortly after dragging her here.” Towering over Ashlie, like a predator tower's over their prey before they strike, he condescendingly said, “You're such a good ‘sister’ that my darling rose has to stoop so low to resort to stealing to feed herself. If I wasn't there to witness her whipping; to carry her home and tens to her then who knows what shape she'd be in right now.”

Ashlie’s eyes blazed hatefully as she looked up at Coriolanus. “I’m going to do anything I have to get Y/N to see the light and leave you. You filthy Capitol blooded peacekeeper.”

Shoving the thin brunette girl against the wall, Coriolanus wraps his large, calloused hand around her throat. Pressing his thumb, hard, into her windpipe he hatefully threatens in a snake like hiss, “You stay the fuck away from my wife, you ratty lil whore, or else I'll fuck that pussy of yours up and pass you around the barracks to let my squad take turns with you before snapping your neck and tossing you into that sludge filled river.” A managing look crossed over his face as he toyed with the girl who's life he literally had in his hand. “What's it called again? That's right, the Cuyahoga River.”

Ashlie couldn't breath, all she could do was let out high pitched wheezes. She frantically clawed at your husband's hand, desperate to breath since he was choking her.

“Stop your dramatics, you stupid whore.” Coriolanus commanded harshly before letting Ashlie's neck go.

She gasped desperately for air, her lungs aching for oxygen to give them their substance, as he knees buckled. Ashlie slid against the wall, watching as Private Snow- your cold and cruel husband- walked back into the factory's break room as if nothing has happened. As if he just didn't nearly kill her; threaten violent things against her.

Ashlie's off tomorrow and, even tho sh was threaten by Coriolanus, she's determined to get you to leave him. So, she's going to be paying you a visit.

A visit that'll prove to be her last once your husband hears about it.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[xomakara]

Harvesting Hearts

SUMMARY | Kun, the newest resident of Neo Valley, helps you harvest the crops for this year's harvest festival and ends up developing feelings for you.

PAIRINGS |  Kun x Reader

RATING |  SFW

GENRE |  SFW, Fluff, western au, country farming au, romance, we're country farming ya'll

CONTENT/WARNINGS | none really. Unless you count a crop stealing sheep lol

LENGTH |  6,418 words

TAGLIST |  --

NETWORKS |  @k-vanity

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  hi all~ been a while since I wrote anything for Kun haha. This is written for kvanity's fall event and the prompts I used were:

Autumn Salad — You need a lot of help to harvest this year’s crops for the fall festival, so you hire the new stranger that recently moved into town.

Apple Cider — "I’m not scared…as long as you’re here with me, everything is okay."

thank you @hobeemin for the lovely banner and divider! And thank you @lovetaroandtaemin for beta reading this! This was inspired by Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon, Story of Seasons and any other farm sim games. Happy reading folks!

Ah, fall. 

It's already that time of year as you leaned against the railings on your front porch that overlooked the crops in your farm fields below. In the back of your mind, a feeling of accomplishment arose; your farm has truly begun to prosper, a year after taking up residence here. With it came an abundance of other emotions: relief that your hard work had paid off so well, happiness that you could now help provide food and fodder for the entire town. It was a new chapter in your life, a new step toward self sufficiency and stability. It was even better since there were so many wonderful people you were able to call neighbors, and there were so many nice creatures living nearby as well. You tilted your head and smiled when the memory of a white fluffball toddled in your mind's eye.

Before that thought could carry on, you heard someone call your name. With a confused expression, you stepped around the railing and searched until you spotted a flash of blue bouncing its way down the path. After a moment, you recognised who it was.

"Jungwoo? What's up?" you greeted. The man greeted you with an equally joyful hello of his own as he caught his breath at your gate, his blue postman vest unbuttoned and swaying behind him.

"Heya Y/N! Not too much today," Jungwoo began casually, resting his elbow onto the gate. "It's been quiet on the postal side, but I got somethin' for ya! Here!"

He excitedly flipped the blue straps across his shoulder, then proceeded to rummage through the bulging postman bag, chuckling a bit in the process. He searched some more, letting out a triumphant laugh before withdrawing a small yellow package, with a decorative sun drawn onto its wrappings.

"Bingo!" Jungwoo said triumphantly, placing the yellow package into your outstretched hands. It was kind of lumpy, but felt sturdy too.

"What did she send me this time?" you cocked your head to the side, looking at the package that your older sister had sent over for what seemed the millionth time. 

Your big sis and fellow city dweller loved sending care packages for you, despite your many protests, which seemed to spur her on even more. So, her last letter had prompted a bigger shipment; full of food, utensils, clothes and other "necessities" to help ease the transition into your new life as a farmer. If there was one thing your big sis was, it was resourceful. You couldn't help but smile with affectionate annoyance, thinking about how sweet it was of her to support you on your own terms like this.

"Oh yeah!" Jungwoo jumped, hitting his forehead a bit. "Forgot to mention that we have a new person moving into town next week. Mayor Taeyong told me this morning so that I can pass along the message to everyone during my rounds."

"Neat," you replied. "New farmer? Rancher?"

"Not really sure," Jungwoo hummed, tapping his chin. "Mayor Taeyong just said that he was gonna settle here and that he’s gonna have the empty property next to yours."

"Oh? That's good since Yangyang and I need some friendly competition," you remarked cheekily. Your farm neighboured a luscious field full of sheep, cows and chickens owned by Yangyang, a lovely rancher with a mischievous streak and a love for cute fluffy things. It was an adorable pairing to behold and witness every morning when the flock ambled from Yangyang's property over to yours to graze, as he made his morning greetings to the animals with his chirpy personality and sunny smile.

"Ah, true," Jungwoo agrees, snickering quietly. "Well, I gotta go and continue my deliveries. Catch you later Y/N."

With an eager nod, you watch him zip away, once again on another route, delivering precious mail. Turning around, you settle into the rocking chair and start peeling away at the wrappings, eyes glittering with eagerness to see what your sister has sent you this time. With the package peeled open and the contents removed, you smiled as you clutched the set of leather gardening gloves that you'd mentioned in passing, but forgot in your hurry to move into town a year ago. Alongside the gloves was an equally soft shawl to protect you from the elements when you needed to do chores or check on the crops after the sun had gone to sleep.

You looked over to your crops, spotting a familiar fluffy, white sheep trotting with a wedge of vegetables cradled in its mouth and when it's eyes met yours, tried to make a beeline back towards Yangyang's fields. It was a common occurrence, really, this particular sheep would always take one vegetable from your plot every now and then, and would parade it around town in its mouth. There was something just so funny and endearing about the creature that you didn't feel the need to punish it or stop it. Everyone always got a laugh seeing a little sheep march through town with a head of lettuce or bunch of corn clamped between its jaws. Even Yangyang stopped reprimanding it, seeing that it would sneak out and continue the habit no matter what.

You decided to allow yourself a little rest, before packing away the treasures and going back to work in the fields. You slipped on the pair of warm gloves, pleased that the interior was lined with something warm and soft, and your worries of blisters were minimized. You could definitely tell that these gloves would be comfortable to wear all day long. Making your way down the steps, you admired the gloves for a moment and turned your attention to your little friend that was prancing in front of the fence. It seemed excited today, hopping to and from different areas of the field, still holding its "prize".

"Fluffy, are you going to take that beet and go into town?" you inquired. 

The sheep always seemed to understand what you and others had to say, judging by its reactions. The little animal gave an affirmative bleat, continuing its merrymaking. Chuckling, you bent down, stroking the sheep between the ears affectionately.

"What did you take from Y/N's farm this time, you little rascal?" you heard Yangyang ask from his side of the fence, laughing. He had opened the gate between your lands and was sauntering over to the pair of you. When Fluffy heard his voice, it quickly bounced over and deposited its prize at his feet. Yangyang picked it up, observing the beet carefully before looking at you and then the sheep, eyebrows lifted.

"Hm," he mused. "A beet this time. Good job. Now go show it off like you usually do."

With another "bah", the little white sheep set off with the beet in its mouth, bounding towards town with newfound vigor. You and Yangyang both stared at it, amused as you both shared a chuckle at its behavior.

"That silly little guy really seems to enjoy showing off your crops," Yangyang snorted, leaning against the fencepost. "Even with the other sheep, I can't seem to keep him in line. Whenever he spots one of your crops, I lose him and he trots over to you to have an adventure."

"It's fine, you know," you shook your head. "I think it's adorable, and I really don't mind the loss of one crop. Just let that cutie do its thing, okay?"

Yangyang smiled softly, the corners of his mouth quirked up. The breeze was gentle, rustling his dark locks as he scanned the nearby fields with a pensive look on his face. His eyes were alight with a content gaze, taking in all the lush green fields.

"You have a talent for this farming business," he said, turning to meet your gaze with a bright and eager one. "And your success has helped the valley as a whole. What can I ever give you, as your best friend, to repay you?"

"One of your cows? Pleaseee," you asked playfully.

"Hell no," Yangyang responded incredulously.

"Pft. Jokes aside," you chuckled a bit at your joke and his incredulous reaction. "Did Jungwoo tell you we're having another neighbor moving into the property next to mine? And a possible new farmer or rancher, at that."

"Yeah," Yangyang beamed. "I hope the new person doesn't mind a cute, crop stealing sheep."

As you and Yangyang continued chatting, Fluffy returned with the beet and a few children following the sheep like little ducks in its wake. The children saw the pair of you, giggling, waving, and started a chorus of "good mornings." Both you and Yangyang returned the good mornings with grins, laughing when the group of kids proceeded to chase the sheep further into town, as it picked up speed and began a merry race with its pursuers.

"Let's head into town and get some lunch at Johnny's," Yangyang suggested. With that, the two of you walked the dusty, gravel trail and were welcomed by the vibrant buzz of Neo Valley.

A week later, you were conversing with Yangyang and Jeno and Hyemi, the couple that ran the ranch and farm across the river that ran adjacent to town, when you noticed a handsome figure standing beside Mayor Taeyong in front of the wooden gate that led into the property next to yours. All four of you perked up, seeing Taeyong turn towards the fields and beam, gesturing towards a handsome man with fair hair and a somewhat formal demeanor.

"Oh, looks like all our farming and ranching folks are here," Taeyong exclaimed as he noticed your little group. "These are your fellow neighbors."

The man turned to look at all of you and you swear, your knees felt weak from how handsome he was. The man's eyes widened, scanning the four of you, noting all the different fields and livestock, before his gaze settled on you and didn't leave. You suddenly felt embarrassed, fiddling with the edge of your tunic before realizing that he had begun walking towards you and was now a meter away.

"Hello, it's a pleasure to meet all of you," the stranger greeted. "I'm Kun and I'll be living in that space right here for a while. Nice to meet you."

With introductions all done, Kun's gaze lingered on you for a second longer than what was polite, and you felt a thrill at that. Before you could speak, you were pleasantly surprised to see Fluffy jump and begin to leap around excitedly this time with a sweet potato dangling from its mouth. You, Yangyang and Kun all began laughing at its energetic display.

"Is this your sheep?" Kun questioned with amusement. Yangyang nodded in the affirmative as he grinned.

"Yup. This silly thing sneaks over here from Yangyang's livestock whenever he wants an adventure," you giggled, shaking your head fondly. "He loves to take my crops as a prize, then goes parading through the village and farms like a small show pony."

"That's quite humorous," Kun mused. He bent to scratch behind Fluffy's ears and the creature looked ecstatic at the sudden attention. It dropped the potato, licking at Kun's fingers and bleating at him. "You'll come and take my crops too if I start my own farm?"

Another bleat. Another round of laughter. With this interaction, you had a feeling that Kun would get along just fine in your small town. After Fluffy picked the potato back up and took a victory lap around the group and your properties, it scurried into town to show off.

"I'm going to keep an eye on the little cutie," Taeyong laughed. He had his hands in his pockets, a wide smile on his lips as he laughed a bit. "I trust ya'll are gonna help the new guy get settled in, am I right?"

With that, the mayor headed off, and it was just the five of you. You smiled at Kun, noticing how nice his eyes looked and how neatly styled his hair was. His clothes were modest and fit, making him a treat to gaze at for you.

"Kun," Yangyang repeated. "Are you gonna be starting a farm or a ranch?"

"Not too sure," Kun chuckled. "I'm open to suggestions."

"He could have both," Jeno replied. "Right, Hyemi?"

"Of course," Hyemi nodded. She stood close to Jeno, her hand finding his in a cute moment. "We run both the farm and the ranch across the river."

"That's only 'cause you two are married," Yangyang scoffed. "Before, you guys both ran separate farms and ranches."

"Hush," Jeno and Hyemi shot playful glares.

"Farm or ranch..." Kun echoed. He tapped his chin in a thoughtful pose. "I like the idea of having a farm. I feel I have the potential to do well with this."

"I'll teach you," you responded quickly. "I was in your shoes a year ago and I can definitely guide you and show you what worked and didn't work for me."

Kun looked touched and was pleasantly surprised by your offer. He thanked you repeatedly, which you brushed away with a smile on your lips. You were touched and happy to help, and to have a partner-in-crime now. Yangyang gave you a knowing look and wiggled his eyebrows.

"We'll leave you guys to chat now," Jeno stated, eyes shining. "See you all around town!"

The young couple departed and once more, it was you three, now standing outside of the empty field. The field looked unkempt, with patches of weeds in various places. To the corner of the lot were large tree stumps, their roots digging deep into the soil.

"Oh, that is a big issue," Kun exclaimed when his eyes spotted the trees. He hummed. "Y/N, can you show me where the best tools are made or crafted?"

"For general items, your best bet is Full Sun," you advised. "Haechan sells seeds, pots and bags of soil, but if you want fences or any kind of carpentry done, Hendery's is the place to go too. Chenle and Jisung runs the local blacksmith if you want axes and stuff."

"Great! That's a start," Kun was jotting this information down on his phone. You saw him nod a couple times and pause. You and Yangyang traded glances and waited until he was finished, before prompting him for his thoughts.

"Right. Okay," Kun stuffed his cellphone back into his pocket, shoulders sagging. "This is quite a lot, isn't it?"

"You'll do fine," you reassured him. "If a city girl like me can turn a shoddy farm into what it is now, you can do it too."

He looked pleased and comforted and nodded a bit. Kun was curious now, his eyes glowing and a boyish grin graced his features. A thought entered your mind and your lips quirked up too.

"How about we go into town and introduce you to everyone?" You suggested. "And afterwards, we can see about grabbing some lunch and plot a plan for your farm."

"That sounds great," Kun responded. "Lead the way."

You knew Kun was different right away. It was noticeable at first when the three of you arrived into town and Kun offered the shop owner's his help by helping them clear out the storage area. Even Doyoung, the local doctor, had been pleasantly surprised and excited with his willingness to be of use and help out. Everyone seemed enamored with the handsome man.

"I see you got a little crush on the new guy," Johnny, the owner of the cafe you love to inhabit for lunch, teased. He had the audacity to make kissing noises, causing you to snap a playful glare his way. "Buuuuttt, he is very attractive, isn't he?"

You had been sharing lunch with Haechan and Johnny, since Yangyang couldn't join today. A plate of soup, sandwich and an assortment of fried foods, the perfect comfort food was set before you, and you sighed happily. This meal was a favorite for a lot of reasons. But Kun was always at the forefront of your mind as you took the first bite.

"Isn't that a coincidence," Haechan smirked. "He seems to think you're gorgeous too."

"Shut up, shut up," you hissed, voice going a pitch higher as a warm blush raced up your neck. "I barely even know the dude! Stop assuming so fast..."

Both Haechan and Johnny blinked their eyes before grinning wider than necessary. This wasn't anything unusual, since Haechan was usually the biggest prankster in town, and Johnny wasn't too far behind on pulling ridiculous shenanigans. You squirmed, slightly embarrassed by the attention but were willing to ignore the pair and instead dive into your lunch. You didn't dare admit how attracted to the newcomer you were, already developing feelings and fondness for a guy who just moved into Neo Valley.

"C'mon," Johnny prodded with a low whistle. "Admit it. He is attractive."

"So?" you sipped at your drink, watching both Haechan and Johnny from a careful distance. "I said the same about Yangyang and we're just friends. Kun will be too."

"Uh huh. Sureeee," Haechan had that same playful, devilish sparkle in his eyes. He leaned closer, studying your reaction, while you simply slurped your beverage. "Nothing wrong with making some moves here and there."

"Dude. Too soon," you held your palms up in defense and scrunched your nose at him. Johnny chuckled, patting your shoulder.

"Never too soon, if the signals are there," the older man retorted with a shrug.

"Okay, fine," you relented. There was no point in hiding it anymore. Haechan knew you too well and would tease you till kingdom come until you caved. "He is kind of attractive."

Johnny laughed heartily, the sound echoing in the empty cafe. Meanwhile Haechan gasped like you'd spilled the biggest secret and pressed his hands into his cheeks, doing that annoying fake swoon. You rolled your eyes, used to the ridiculous antics from these two.

"Your life is blessed now," Haechan clasped his hands together with a dopey smile on his face. "The newest resident to Neo Valley happens to be Y/N's type? Oh you gotta shoot your shot, Y/N."

"Nooooo," you moaned, cheeks burning a little brighter. You couldn't deny the truth in his words: Kun did happen to be your type. 

While you and Haechan argued for the last piece of sweet potato tempura, Johnny observed from the side and nodded a bit as a playful idea entered his brain. "Changing topics, the Fall Festival is coming up in a couple months. I know your batch of radishes and sweet potatoes are looking good because Fluffy has been parading them through the town for the last week."

"He does have a preference for those kinds," you chuckled, rolling your eyes. "At least the crop thief knows which vegetables will do well at the festival."

"This will be Kun's first festival in town and since he doesn't have any crops yet...can he tag along with you for your entries?" Haechan proposed. "Just so he knows what to expect the next time around."

"It shouldn't be a problem..." You considered that for a long moment. "If he wants to."

"That settles it," Haechan chuckled. "Now I just need to convince Kun to join us and prepare him for the biggest celebration in town."

With those words spoken, you heard a familiar clatter followed by laughter, and you were startled when a little sheep trotted into the restaurant, carrying a large eggplant between its teeth. Kun entered after it, bowing several apologies to Johnny and he stopped in his tracks, meeting your stare with an eager grin. You watched as he followed the sheep to your side of the restaurant and sat beside you and Haechan.

"I saw him steal an eggplant from your fields, Y/N," Kun laughed. "Thought I might as well accompany him. This little cutie and I have become quite close."

"Ahhh Fluffy. At this point, you might as well make a residence in my backyard," you scratched Fluffy's head between the ears and got a pleased little "bah." as you grinned back at the animal. “Maybe I should ask Yangyang if I can adopt you instead.”

"Since you're here, Kun, I have something to ask you about," Haechan continued with his plot, raising his eyebrows a bit. He laid the trap nicely and simply, you were impressed and amused at the same time. "There's a big festival happening in a few months. Since you've barely started your farm, what do you think about helping Y/N out this year so next year, it's easier on you?"

Kun's eyes were wide and bright at the mention of the festival. You knew what his answer would be, and indeed, he was thrilled at the thought of attending an event such as this one, a week after moving in. His face was lit up in a fond and caring smile. “Sure, count me in!”

"Great," you replied, returning a genuine and equally excited grin. "This will be so much fun."

Haechan and Johnny high fived each other. Their expressions said "got 'em", and their grins were triumphant. The four of you finished your lunches and Kun tagged along with you to Hendery's to ask for repairs to his cabin, which the carpenter was quick to agree to. After Kun left, heading back to the cabin to ensure Hendery had everything he needed, Johnny turned to you.

"He's totally interested," Johnny stated matter-of-factly, tossing you a flirty wink. "Keep an eye on him at the festival, alright?"

"Whatever, John," you sighed heavily, throwing your hands into the air. "Your obsession over love makes you extra meddling, y'know. Look at Haechan, he's a prime example of the devil being love crazy."

"What can I say," Haechan shrugged, the cat-like grin back in place. "Love is something worth chasing after and obsessing about."

"Mark is not going to return your love, you know. He is happily married with a kid," you reminded him.

"And yet I remain hopeful," Haechan insisted.

You rolled your eyes in amusement. There was a skip in your step as you went around town to accomplish your list of errands, thoughts of the festival and Kun occupying the corners of your mind. And at night, when your head hit your pillow, your last thought was the man. You felt a thrilling sort of warmth in your belly when you closed your eyes and fell asleep to dreams of a handsome man that would soon make himself an important and permanent fixture in Neo Valley.

"Kun, can you grab that fertilizer and drop it off into those rows please?" you instructed. "Thanks so much! I owe ya one."

"No need," Kun called. "I'm happy to help."

Kun found that he really loved how relaxed things were here and how natural it was to fall into a routine, something to be passionate about and dedicated to. The repetitive tasks of weeding, watering, pruning, checking up on the livestock and taking the crops to the shipping bin to send to Haechan in town was strangely refreshing and enjoyable. His muscles ached from labor, his chest puffing and caving as he breathed deeply from exertion. Kun enjoyed the hot days under a beating sun, as well as the rainy days filled with puddles and slick ground, leaving everything gleaming.

The farm was doing amazing. Before your guidance, Kun wouldn't have the slightest idea what to plant, where to plant it, how much care the seedlings require before being ready to be harvested, and all the extra work required. Kun couldn't even begin to express how lucky he felt, that someone as kind and generous and easy to get along as you had extended your help. He knew his passion could only take him so far before you swooped in and ensured that things were on the right track.

Fluffy continued to provide the farming duo with comic relief, as the sheep loved taking things, whether it be crops, or small items that caught its fancy. The fluffy white animal was always accompanied by little kids, or townies on their lunch break, as they took a lap around town with the crowd following it. This sight was heartwarming and humorous, to witness the chaos caused by an adorable animal with an obsession.

You were also incredibly thoughtful. On his first night after getting the cabin situated by Hendery, he had gotten home to find a basket full of items gifted from around the neighborhood. There had been some sewing kits, a set of matches and a knife, new garden tools and some seeds to add to his growing collection and various other things.

Aside from the help, Kun was rather taken with you. The way the breeze tousled and played with your hair, the soft laugh you shared, your soft smile, the joy in your eyes and the compassion you possessed. There was nothing about you that left him wanting or cold, and as the Fall Festival came up, he couldn't wait to spend more time and enjoy more events with you.

The way the wind caressed his face and the way your laugh had begun to fill his dreams told Kun everything. He loved being in your presence and knew deep down in his heart that you meant a lot to him, more so than a neighbor or friend. If anything, he wanted to know more, to explore a future with you. A future in this little town that offered him a lifestyle he never dreamed he would experience.

His own feelings weren't something he was prepared to deal with, however. Kun just knew he liked being around you. And he loved to help with your farm and bring the fruits and veggies to the bin, seeing your face light up when he delivered a perfect head of cabbage. Kun enjoyed the walks that sometimes led to the mines or his property, where you would share the sunsets and stargazing while talking about farming and ranching and other activities. The conversations always revolved around mundane chatter and Kun wasn't bothered by it. He could talk and talk forever and be comfortable to just sit in silence beside you.

Oh how things had changed for him. How different his life was now. How exciting life could get, how thrilling and uplifting it could feel. In only three months, Kun had fallen head over heels for a farmer girl.

But could things get more serious? Would it go that direction, from a friendly relationship to one filled with warmth and passion and a loving energy.

"We should go mining sometime," he mused aloud to himself, not hearing you approach him from behind.

"What?" your question drew him out of his reverie. 

Kun shook his head, glancing at you as your arms crossed over your stomach. He suddenly couldn't think when his eyes raked over your body, tracing your soft curves. He didn't even process how the light of the sun framed your lovely figure like a halo, your aura shining in all your glory. All the while, your own thoughts were spinning into overdrive, looking up at the broadness of his back as you imagined how it would feel to hold his hand, rest your cheek against the contour and smoothness of his shoulders.

"Wanna go exploring? There are these huge ruins not too far away," he tried his best to speak casually and relaxed but failed when he registered his heartbeat. Oh. This feeling was entirely too new. Kun was nervous, sweat slicking his palms and his blood humming. What was happening to him? To his calm, carefree lifestyle?

"Yeah, that sounds great," you gave him a pleased and soft smile. You didn't notice his heightened nerves and glanced towards the forest path, picturing the dense area covered in foliage. "I haven't been there before."

"Seriously?" His incredulity pulled you out of your mental images. "You haven't explored past the cliff near your farm?"

"Nope," your giggle filled the air and he wanted to capture it, save the sound, and carry it everywhere he went. His heart did the strange palpitation again. Kun blinked rapidly.

"Then, if it's not a problem..." he paused, fidgeting with his shirt. "What about tomorrow afternoon? We can scope out the ruins and make a map, maybe?"

"Hmm," you paused. Your lips were in a pretty pout and he wanted to lean down, capture those rosy and sweet lips with a gentle kiss. Wanted to hold you close to his heart. "I think the rest of the crops can handle themselves. Most are ready for harvest anyways. Would be a good distraction from the anticipation, yeah?"

"Yes," Kun cleared his throat, a slight heat warming his cheeks at your proximity. Why was he acting like this? There was something about you that made him feel so alive, like he was treading dangerous territory and didn't know what would happen. Not that he minded it. "We can leave after we water the crops and harvest anything that's ready?"

"Perfect!" you exclaimed.

The rest of your time harvesting was spent with warm conversation and fond gazes and sweet smiles that left butterflies swarming his insides, and he struggled with figuring out just what these feelings meant. When he was back home, preparing a simple bowl of an autumn salad and sliced radishes to make a delicious side dish, a single phrase whispered out loud. 

Kun spoke in awe at the realization. "It must be love."

It seemed crazy. Kun was still adjusting to his new living situation and you were a sweet woman that lived only a couple of feet from his front door.

Love, huh?

You had given him your attention, your guidance, your knowledge and you took the time to be around him and make him feel important. It was weird, experiencing these feelings but not...unpleasant. In fact, he rather enjoyed them.

From the window that was open in the kitchen, Kun's ears picked up the sound of someone passing his property. Instantly, the sounds of a sheep followed. He chuckled to himself.

"Silly sheep," he mused softly, eyes twinkling and heart filled with affection. For the cute animal that he had taken quite a liking to, for the town that embraced him, for his new friends that supported and understood him. But mostly, his heart was aflutter at the thought of a farmer girl who lived uphill, with a name as beautiful and unique and ethereal as you.

Indeed, these feelings were unlike anything before.

"Kun!" Your laughter flowed from your lips, gesturing towards the booth reserved with all your produce, or what your field had been able to supply for the day's Fall Festival. "Come here."

His lips were stretched into the most wide, content and elated grin, taking his place by your side, basking in the sight of the booths full of fall themed trinkets, food and products, the games for children, as well as the horse racing section. The Neo Valley residents were a colorful and interesting and happy group of folks, and there was nowhere else he wished to be in the world at that moment.

The weather was a cool autumn temperature and everyone had gathered to show off their skills and work or eat a festival's worth of delicious food and join the band. His senses were a bit overwhelmed as Kun took everything in. The warm scent of mulled wine was in the air as couples held the steaming cups of fragrant delight, and his fingers itched to hold your hand, or take yours, to whisper compliments and praises or laugh heartily. To say something romantic and let his feelings slip out, finally confess how much his heart skipped and did funny flips when you looked his way. To know if the same emotions and affections and desires ran through your veins when you saw him.

But he couldn't. And he wouldn't. Because he didn't know what was going on between the two of you, and he wasn't sure you would welcome or want anything to develop between you both. He'd only been in the valley for a few months already, and it could just be him reading too deep into everything, making assumptions and conclusions.

"Are you scared if your crops lose this year?" Kun asked in curiosity.

"I’m not scared…as long as you’re here with me, everything is okay," you leaned over and squeezed his arm. Kun gulped a bit. If you noticed the gesture, you didn't comment on it. Instead, you carried on with the chatter, oblivious to the storm swirling within him. "Of course I want to win, but just being here, amongst friends and sharing a special tradition is what's really important. Don't you think so?"

He didn't know what to say, with his face beginning to heat up at the thought of your warmth, and your honesty and the gentle care you possessed. He only managed to smile.

"Agreed," Kun nodded, smiling softly. His expression matched yours perfectly. "This is great. My first Fall Festival with you and I love it."

His heart raced when he caught the dreamy smile you gave him, a gaze brimming with something warm and fuzzy and wonderful that left him speechless.

"Lucky us," you hummed.

Kun could've been dreaming, but you reached out and grabbed his hand. Your fingers laced with his and your palm rested against his. You gripped gently. There was a shy yet dazzling smile that took hold of your features and Kun swore the entire world shifted for a split second. Time had frozen for the two of you, all sounds from the festival silenced and your features glowed in the glow of the festival lights, a glowing halo of autumn colors, with the perfect warmth that he longed for.

"Thank you, for everything you've done for me," you spoke softly. His head ducked shyly, as you brought a tender hand to cup his chin, tilting his gaze so it could meet with yours. "I mean it, Kun. Thank you so, so much."

"Don't thank me," Kun's heart squeezed at your words. "I'd do it all over again and not ask for a single reward. Because all I need, all I want, is you. I know we've only known each other for only a few months but you have made such an impact on me that there's no way I'd go back to my city lifestyle. And if things carry on the same way, I'm glad it'll be here, in Neo Valley."

"Gosh, that was really corny," you murmured with a playful nudge of his shoulder, your laughter bubbling from your lips. It was light and sweet, filling him with a delightful kind of joy. A laugh Kun had been craving to hear again. "And somehow, so perfectly you."

You looked over his face, mapping every part of his handsome profile. There were so many questions that he wanted to ask but instead held off on until a moment arrived that made sense. Instead, the pair of you let the moment settle, your fingers sliding further into his grasp and resting gently, Kun relishing the contact.

The moment passed, and Kun exhaled a shaky breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. You both returned back to the festival, focusing on your first shared Autumn event and all the sights and sounds. The only sign that the connection remained, were the soft rubs of your thumb across the back of his knuckles and the smile you kept glancing at him with.

And as the harvest contest wrapped up, you playfully pouted when Jeno and Hyemi ended up the big winners. Despite losing this year's harvest competition, you were smiling from ear to ear, as the atmosphere and festivities made everything worthwhile. Kun spent his first festival walking the grounds, eating delicious and traditional foods, talking and laughing with your other friends and exchanging stories and traditions with town residents who had become like family.

Kun walked you back to your farm, letting the silence hang in the air comfortably and listening to the symphony of crickets and the rustle of leaves as they were disturbed in the breeze. It was a slow walk home, savoring each other's company until the end of the path leading to your front door. Your fingers reluctantly unraveled themselves from his and Kun instantly felt the chill from his fingertips to his toes when you were no longer pressed up close to his warmth, keeping his hand safe and held within yours. He missed your hand in his the moment it was no longer present, and his chest longed to hold you close again.

"Y/N?" Kun broke the silence and stopped his trek towards home.

"Yeah, Kun?" you faced him and waited expectantly.

"I know it's sudden but...can I kiss you?" He couldn't help himself. And when your breath hitched, the briefest surprise flittered over your expression, Kun wasn't sure whether he should laugh or cry because you might say no.

"Yes," your whisper came a few seconds later. "Yes please."

Your fingers interlaced again and drew him back to the same spot where you stood. The sun had long since vanished over the horizon, the moonlight illuminated the two of you with a beautiful softness, and your bodies fit perfectly into each other. There was something soft and precious that bloomed within you and it seemed that time paused when you cupped his cheek, and reached up to press your lips gently to his. Kun responded after a second, the hand that wasn't joined with yours, reached to the nape of your neck, fingers dancing along the skin. You melted into his touch, eyes fluttering closed at the blissful feeling.

All the sounds and surroundings fell away into the background as the kiss continued, your lips gliding and capturing each other again and again. Each touch, each caress, the soft sighs and little noises that escaped and filled the atmosphere, all of it, was all the confirmation Kun needed. A sweet melody of growing emotions and affections, blossoming and promising so many dreams for the future.

Because after this kiss, and the kisses that followed, there was no way that you two could return to your life as only farm friends and neighbors. And Kun knew his life in the Valley was always destined to become a forever home with you.

[see-arcane]

I will say the one point of accidental levity in this entry is very, very good

Because, like. Yeah, the mother saw Jonathan in the window--the very high, very distant window, at night--and started shouting for her kid. She did speak in English (or else Jonathan knew what tongue she was speaking and translated), and that lends some credence to ‘Oh, she thinks Jonathan took the baby!’

But also, consider:

1. Count Teaboo has probably been leaning into his English lessons all over the place. It’s not a far stretch to assume he’s been using more than the Undead Girl Gang to practice on. There’s every chance she recognized the ‘Dracula’s stealing babies’ pattern from all the other families who had their babies stolen by Dracula, and assumed, naturally, that it was Dracula’s face in the window. Cue...all of That.

2. Remember, even if the locals did assume Jonathan was already vampire’d, he’s also. You know. Not going to magically become an extra head taller. Or become stick man-skinny. Or suddenly look a great deal like the undead boyar everyone and their grandmother has been living in fear of their entire lives, but wearing the doomed Englishman’s hat and coat.

Like, he’s going out to send mail, not just pick up the kid meal. I think Jonathan’s assuming a lot about either Dracula’s disguise ability or the near-sightedness of the locals.

Dracula, twirling his white moustache, doing his best Ben Galpin impression: Yes, hello, it is me, young Englishman Jonathan Harker, here to send on some letters :)

Postal workers, not paid enough to die for pointing out that Dracula is Dracula: ok

[mrbingley]

i'm working on a ttrpg for my family for christmas (mom and two siblings) when they visit. the gist of it is: santa letter heist. all santa letters with no return and no deliverable address are sent to the mail recovery center in atlanta, georgia (this is true (there will be more true things: fun lil info about the postal service incorporated in just b/c i have always been a lil fascinated with it)). every year elves have to break in and steal all the santa letters so santa can read them.

one postal worker is convinced elves are stealing their mail but no one believes them (very crocker from fairy god parents). yr after yr this sole worker has added to the security of the facility in hopes of catching the elves. there will be fun traps. one room will be a maze of lasers that the players only have five seconds to look at before they have to pick a spot/path to start on (which may or may not be a dead end) and a laser that moves across the room will make them have to keep going.

there will be an NPC “elf” who joins the players on this heist. but they’re actually a leprechaun. they wear all green instead of the festive christmas red/green elves typically wear. they dyed their ginger hair white and the tips of their fingers are white (but, oh, that’s just snow or sugar powder!). they agreed to help the postal worker take down the elves in exchange for all the gold that was in any of the letters/packages sent here.

once the players get to the final room where the letters are stored, the leprechaun books it for the pile of gold—not the santa letters—and alerts the postal worker who is hiding in a fake bag of letters. boss fight ensues.

i haven’t come up with the mechanics yet but they’ll be simple. one of the elf abilities will def be “giving spirit” where they can compel someone to give them something with the power of the gift giving spirit of christmas (can only use this once and still have to roll for it).

my twin already pitched her elf character. who doesn’t live in the north pole anymore and lives in arizona like a cowboy. when they lived in the north pole they were the one who wrangled and taught the reindeer (they loved cowboys from a young age and no one believed in their ability to be a cowboy so they had to teach themselves how to be one with the reindeer). they wear regular cowboy boots but because they’re a tiny elf the cowboy boots look like thigh high boots on them. the reindeer are def the players getaway vehicle. i'll think of other ways to incorporate my twin's elf's backstory into the mechanics and plot.

i'll be making illustrations of their elves. maps. item cards or scenes that would be fun to see. possibly some sort of tangible, physical mechanic (like the popularity/high society meter in the court of fey and flowers (maybe a nice vs naughty meter; and elves intrinsically mustn't drop into naughty or it hurts / maddens / mutates them?)).

anyway. i’m excited to dig into a project like this that can consume my attention for the next couple months. i'm doing this because 1) it's fun to make and run campaigns 2) i'm too dang poor to buy anyone christmas gifts this year 3) i want to make a one shot that is fun and polished enough that i can publish online.

[earhartsplane]

I am not trying to ruffle any feathers, but I have to say this before Season 2 comes out, so I can act smug when I’m right. Here is my number one prediction for Good Omens Season 2:

There won’t be a voice-over.

Now hang on. I know it’s a controversial opinion. Let me explain.

I have noticed that virtually every adaptation of Terry Pratchett’s books has some sort of voice over, either diagetic (like Going Postal, where it’s part of the framing device) or non-diagetic (Hogfather). And I get it ! If you’ve read any of the Discworld book and have this weird brain quirk where a part of you is always thinking about how this would translate on screen, you’ve probably noticed two things:

1. There’s visual humour in text form. How ? This man was a genius and a will be missed forever.

2. There’s so much that just can’t be translated on a purely visual level. The footnotes! Should we just leave the footnotes out ? They’re so great! They add so much to the world in general. There are running jokes that only appear in the footnotes ! Should we just accept that it won’t make it to screen ?

Yes. I’m sorry, but yes. Some things will be lost. Maybe you can integrate one of these jokes as recurring background events ? A lot of people are not going to notice though. There’s an expectation that the reader will read all of the words, while the viewer may not see all that’s happening on screen (although, to be fair, you will be noticing new puns on every re-read for years in the case of the Discworld).

(In comparison, adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s work are less prone to voice over. If I remember correctly, Coraline didn’t have one. Sandman starts with a bit of voice-over from the main character, but nothing more after that. I don’t remember any in American Gods. MirrorMask has left me nothing but the memory of a fever dream, so I can’t be sure. )

This is not to say that the voice-over in season one was pointless. It establishes the tone, to start with. If you remember, the opening narration is about the age of the Earth, in which we learn that it was created on the 21st of October, 4004 B.C., and therefore learn its star sign. It’s a good way to show that yes, there are angels in this, and demons, and the garden of Eden, and if you want to think too hard about this, they’ve got you covered. But if you think that these depictions are either blasphemous or religious propaganda, it might be a good time to learn to take a step back (and a joke, in my personal opinion).

But there are definitely instances of narration that would never have happened if season 1 wasn’t a book adaptation. I am thoroughly convinced that Dog’s experimentation with chasing and being chased by cats would have been screen only. Maybe a scene. Maybe something happening in he background. Who knows.

And here’s the thing. Season 2 isn’t the adaptation of a novel. I remember a tweet by Neil Gaiman about how he and Pratchett had a sequel plotted out, but even that isn’t season 2. According to the same, tweet, Season 2 is how we get there.

My number 2 prediction is that there will be a an intense heist scene during which Sadie and Dottie both try to steal some incriminating letters unbeknownst to each other.

[silentchamp]

Some time has passed since your adventure across time and space. 

Today, a letter finds you. This letter isn’t delivered by the postal carrier that you usually expect: you would be met at the front door of your dwelling by a young man dressed in white, a hat on top of his head, and a professional, kind smile on his face. Having to sign for a simple letter seems odd, but the courier assures that ‘this is standard protocol for us.’

A white envelope stamped with the familiar golden trident of the Aether Foundation is in your hands. Inside of it is a letter written with extraordinarily neat penmanship. 

Mr. Suzuki,

I hope this letter finds you well, and that you are recovering from our expedition from the comfort of your own home. 

In the coming days, myself and the Aether Foundation will likely be in the international news regarding our ‘strangely timed’ decision to sever certain partnerships with fellow giants in our shared industry. Do not be alarmed by this. It is a direct response to harrowing usage of my intellectual property in another time, and another place. I, and the entirety of my team, will not allow Aether technology to cause harm to people, or Pokemon, neither by our hands, or the hands of our competitors. You may sleep soundly knowing that our collective actions will prevent an apocalypse of that magnitude happening in our home.

From my mind to yours: I wish to personally thank you for your involvement, and the tireless effort that you put into destroying Archeus. It has left a lasting impression on me, as I am sure it has with the rest of our team.

Several of the partners that we relocated from Area Zero are currently being rehabilitated in the Aether Conservation Area. We are currently zoning an area strictly for our iron partners, so that they may receive enrichment and resources whenever they need.

The Aether Foundation is dedicated to improving the relationship between people, Pokémon, and technology. Consider myself, and my foundation, as a permanent ally, and useful resource for anything that you may need. I highly encourage you to take advantage of these resources whenever necessary.

Lastly, you are cordially invited to the Aether Paradise on a later date, to be honored for your duty, for defending life as we know it, and for instilling a bright new belief in humanity– for me.

Thank you.

Do not hesitate to contact me. Attached to this letter is my business contact, and personal contact. I request that you keep it to yourself.

-President Lusamine Delacroix

At the bottom corner of the letter is a large, strange blotch of ink. A thumb print, maybe? Upon further investigation, it seems to have been left by the tip of the tail of a serpentine creature, who also wanted to sign the note.

It was strange.

It was strange, the delivery of the message, to see the familiar uniform of an Aether Foundation member in the region of Kanto seemed strange...to have them show up on his doorstep was another matter, entirely. It was bizarre, if you'd asked him about it.

He'd held off on opening the letter. Not on purpose, rather, balancing both League and laboratory duties posed a troubling task, one that required several arms, like an octillery, rather than two. If only Red could Double Team and make clones of himself.

One finger would ghost over the professional inking of the Aether Foundation logo on the front of the outer layer of the note, people ripping the envelope open--ruining whatever pristine imagery it had--and stealing the letter out from inside.

It's uninteresting, and Red deliberates tossing it out, until eyes scan over a very important sentence, one that seemingly sticks out from the rest of Lusamine's formal jargon:

"Several of the partners that we relocated from Area Zero are currently being rehabilitated in the Aether Conservation Area."

Red reads faster, quicker, skimming over the note front to back, up and down, side-to-side with a newfound sparkle in his eye as he thinks about his previous companion during everybody's time spent in Zero City.

Janus.

Getting up from the kitchen counter, the chair screeches against the floor tile, and Red would launch onto his feet, marching over to his poryphone. A smile can't help but work itself onto his face, expression glimmering with joy.

He needs to make a few phone calls.

[beardedmrbean]

Two men face federal charges in recent assaults on the same day of two postal workers during armed robberies of mail and checks in Hamilton County, federal court records show.

A federal grand jury indicted Antonio Toombs and Lorenzo Brandon on one count each of conspiracy to commit assault of a postal carrier; conspiracy to commit firearms offense; robbery of mail, money, or other property of the United States and theft of mail keys, according to copies of their indictment.

Brandon and Toombs and “others known and unknown to the grand jury” were involved in the Oct. 21 offenses in the southern district of Ohio and “elsewhere,” their indictment states, indicating more than two postal carriers were robbed that day.

Two USPS letter carriers were assaulted and robbed at gunpoint for their postal “arrow keys,” according to a criminal complaint.

Postal arrow keys are used by carriers to open mailboxes on their routes. They are regularly targeted nationally by thieves hunting mail and other items that could be sold or used to steal identities, according to the postal service.

The offenses occurred at:

The intersection of Hanna and Glenmore avenues in Westwood at 12:40 p.m.

3200 block of Harry Lee Lane in Colerain Twp around 3:40 p.m.

Video surveillance of both robbery scenes shows the same vehicle was used in both offenses, according to a criminal complaint.

Federal authorities found the USPS arrow key stolen on Harry Lee Lane when they searched Toombs’ residence on Oct. 30, the complaint states. It was in a backpack that also held Brandon’s state ID.

In addition, they found three handguns, personal and business checks that didn’t belong to either man, debit cards in other names, a printer, a bottle of “HEET” antifreeze and two empty bottles of acetone, all consistent with items to steal checks from collection boxes and wash and/or alter them using HEET or acetone, federal court records show.

Toombs denied being involved when authorities interviewed him.

However, his cell phone shows he had a texting conversation with someone on the day of the robberies where they discussed driving around and finding a postal worker, according to the complaint.

Toombs is scheduled to appear in federal court at 1:30 p.m. Monday before U.S. District Court Magistrate Judge Karen L. Litkovitz

He was taken into custody and booked into the Butler County Jail on Nov. 20, the same day he had an initial court appearance.

Federal officials requested pretrial detention so he remains in jail.

Brandon’s case will return to court at 1:30 p.m. on Tuesday before U.S. District Court Magistrate Stephanie Bowman.

He has pleaded not guilty and was released on his own recognizance with location monitoring and a curfew, court records show.

Brandon has waived his right to appear in court Tuesday.

[atamascolily]

princess tutu re-watch, episode 19

Way to open this episode with a time-stop. Drosselmeyer knows how to make an entrance.

Drosselmeyer: Congratulations, kid! You got all the heart shards that were stuck in other people! Time to up your game because the story's not over yet!

Ahiru: are you going to be helpful or are you just going to-- oh, never mind.

She finally tells Fakir about Drosselmeyer, though it's unclear from his demeanor how seriously he's taking this.

Fakir: So WHAT if you hurt Mytho? That little punk can totally take it. We have bigger problems, like how we're going to fight the raven.

Ahiru: Okay, but no violence, please.

Fakir: Are you insulting my manhood?

Ahiru: FIND A HEALTHIER FORM OF MASCULINITY THEN! You could be, like, a knight of RESEARCH! An academic! A gentleman AND a scholar!

Fakir: This conversation is OVER, but I will walk you home because I am in fact a gentleman

Ahiru: Are you mad?

Fakir (lying through gritted teeth): I'm not mad, just disappointed.

Ahiru (internally): he's SO mad.

Cut to the next day with Lilie and Pike: You were thinking about Fakir again, weren't you, Ahiru!

Ahiru: No! Well, yes, but not like that--

Lilie WROTE A LOVE LETTER to Fakir in Ahiru's name AHAHAHAHAHA

"Here, take this! If you give it to a random NPC named Bottom, they will solve all your relationship problems for you OR create new ones!"

Ahiru: Isn't the whole point of love confessions to do it yourself--oh, never mind.

Ahiru's Fakir impression is ON POINT, hahaha

Bottom is not a donkey, but a girl named Hermia in a donkey costume--an important distinction in this show. She runs a private postal service, because apparently Golden Crown Academy doesn't have campus mail??

She also has a crush on a guy named Lysander who looks WAY TOO OLD to be a student, but whatever

Uzura steals Hermia's donkey head and runs into the library banging her drum, much to Ahiru's dismay.

Random Megane Guy Who Is Always In the Library: SHUT UP!!!

Ahiru: Why are you here, Fakir?

Fakir: Well, I decided to take your advice and try being a scholar. Just for a bit. I can always save the sword for later if things get tough.

Random Gossip Wallabies (?): Oh, no! Mytho took Hermia to the school make-out point!

Evil!Mytho: Have I mentioned how much I like your ASS?

Evil!Mytho: See, Rue, I told you girls love puns!

Tutu: Hermia, You have to tell your crush your feelings because I can't ever tell mine, and SOMEONE should be happy!

Hermia takes Tutu's advice, and it turns out Lysander is in love with her too, and even made a sculpture of her--this would have been so creepy if his feelings hadn't been reciprocated, but thankfully, it all works out.

Uzura finds the fake love letter to Fakir and gives it to him. Cut to Fakir showing up the next day and lecturing Ahiru in the exact same words and tone of voice that she expected.

(they know each other so WELL by this point, hahahaha)

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Youths Lectured On Mail Theft," Kingston Whig-Standard. May 17, 1933. Page 3. ---- Will Have to Report Once Each Week for Some Time --- Arrainged before J. M. Farrell, K. C. in Juvenile Court this morning, three lads taken into custody on Tuesday pleaded guilty to a charge of stealing a mail bag from the Villa St. Clair Apartments on Barrie Street.

The lads aged 9, 10 and 11, apparently did not realize the seriousness of the charge they pleaded guilty to, but this was drawn to their attention by Mr. Farrell, who after giving the case serious consideration, decided to have the lads remanded. They will not be kept in custody, but will have to report every week.

The Post Office Department believed that they have accounted for practically all the letters which were stolen and mutilated.

In addition to the good work of members of the Post Office staff in the recovery of the mail, The Whig-Standard was informed today that Mrs. Bill, wife of the caretaker of St. Clair Apartments succeeded in rounding up one of the lads, and that two girls caught the other boy. All were held until the arrival of Constable Brennan, who took them into custody.

Post Office officials appeared in court and exhibited the mail bag the boys had torn open. They also placed before the court a number of mutilated envelopes and letters.

[aparticularbandit]

Letters to Santa (Glass Onion Fam Edition)

Summary: Peg has boat trauma, so when her family goes on a cruise for the holidays, she stays behind to babysit Birdie and finds that her boss still believes in Santa - for very good reason.

word count: 1427

“Birdie, don’t tell me.”

Peg normally takes the holidays off.  And by take the holidays off, she means steal Birdie’s phone and take it with her on vacation because if she actually left her boss alone with her phone over the holidays, there would be so many inappropriate tweets that it would be catastrophic.  Like the situation that almost occurred back on Christmas 2017, except that Peg intercepted the phone before any tweet could be made.

This year, however, her sister’s extended family had decided to invite everyone on a cruise, and her parents and the rest of her family had gone.  Peg, however, was still nursing some slight trauma from this year’s Glass Onion Fam Summer Extravaganza – every year, Birdie and her closest friends took a week off (sometimes more with less people; Claire and Andi, for instance, often had a hard time taking off more than a week, while Duke was always free, and Helen could take a full month off but usually didn’t); they each took turns hosting, coming up with ideas that they would all enjoy.  Some extravaganzas go better than others, and last year, when Duke decided to take them all backwater fishing, had been.  horrible.  Peg had made it back mostly unscathed with a minor case of food poisoning, but poor Claire had been covered in mosquito bites, despite the vast amounts of bug spray she’d used. Duke said they should be grateful it wasn’t a hunting trip.  Peg is just grateful that he doesn’t get to throw the extravaganza next year (and Birdie isn’t either).

So, still nursing a deep distrust for all things involving living on the water in a boat, Peg voted no and skipped out on the family vacation.  Which, unfortunately, meant she really had nothing to do for the holidays except babysit.  Just like every other day.

But Birdie has been relatively calm, and today, Christmas Eve, she’s pulled out a blank piece of paper and her box of colored pencils – sounds childish, but when Peg is hiding her electronic devices, it’s the only way Birdie can get any of her fashion designs out on paper – and started writing…a letter.

Peg kneels in front of her, hands on her knees.  “Please don’t tell me you still believe in Santa.”

Birdie’s head snaps up.  “Why wouldn’t I?  I see Santa everywhere this time of year. He changes shape and sometimes he’s got a long white beard and sometimes he’s clean – once, I saw a bunch of Santas doing a strip tease at a bar, and I even slept with one of—”

Peg tunes this next part out.  She has to, if she wants to keep her sanity.

“Anyway.”  Birdie waves her hand dismissively.  “Santa’s definitely real.  Not great at—”

Tuning her out.  Again.

Peg presses her lips together.  Considers.  She can’t just tell Birdie that Santa doesn’t exist.  That would be unnecessarily cruel, even if Birdie really should know that already.  She pushes a hand through her short hair.  “But, Birdie, honestly, you’re writing that letter to him on Christmas Eve, there’s no way the postal service will get it there in time.”

Birdie looks up.  Blinks up at Peg.  The toes on her stretched out legs wiggle.  “He’s coming to me, Peg.”

Peg groans and covers her face with one hand.  “Please tell me you’re not going to have sex with Santa again—”

“No, no!”  Birdie waves her hands, panicky, in front of Peg’s face.  “Santa’s got a huge job to do.  He can’t have sex with me now. He’s busy!”  She sighs.  “But every year, he and Mrs. Claus come see me.”  She pats her mattress twice and gets back to writing her letter without even looking up.  “You’ll see.”

~

There’s no knock on the door to signal any arrivals, but there is the subtle click of a key turning in the doorknob that alerts Peg to someone else’s presence.  Birdie is passed out on the couch, her letter folded up on the coffee table in front of her, right next to a plate full of different brands of store-bought cookies and a glass of what was hot cocoa but is now lukewarm cocoa.  Peg crouches down and creeps to the door just in time to hear a hearty, “Ho ho ho!” in a nearly booming voice that she recognizes.

“Lionel!” Peg hisses.

Then the lights flip on, blinding her, as Lionel – dressed in a nicely tailored Santa suit, with a fluffy white beard and a huge bag full of…honestly, Peg doesn’t want to know what the bag is full of (and honestly is kind of afraid that when Birdie gifted all of them with those really cheap vibrators one New Years Eve, they’d come from this Lionel Santa, which is a whole other layer of awkward) – parades into Birdie’s home, followed by….

Peg’s eyes widen.  “Claire, you have kids!  How are you even here?”

Lionel meets Peg’s eyes and gives her a sly little wink before passing her to a still groggy and not quite awake Birdie.  Claire, on the other hand, dressed in a much less tailored and very white Mrs. Claus dress (because even now, she doesn’t wear anything so loudly colorful as red) and with fake gold-rimmed glasses perched on the edge of her nose, takes her to one side.  “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Peg hisses, arms crossed.  “This is fucked up.”

Claire’s gaze drifts over to Birdie and then returns to Peg.  “You ruin this for her, and I will fuck you up—”

“My dear Mrs. Claus!” Lionel Santa booms, arms spread wide.  “Why don’t you come give our favorite naughty child a hug?”

Peg’s eyes widen, and she mouths, “N a u g h t y ?”

Claire just gives a shrug.  “You really think Birdie wants on the nice list?” she says before waltzing over to Birdie’s waiting arms.

~

Birdie dozes off, resting against Claire Claus’s ruffle covered chest, shortly after Lionel Santa leaves.  A few minutes pass before Claire waves a hand over Birdie’s face.  When Birdie doesn’t move, she slowly and carefully extricates herself from beneath her now quite slumbering friend.

Peg just stares at her.  “What, and I cannot say this kindly enough, the fuck, Claire?”

Claire levels a dark glare at her.  “That’s Mrs. Claus to you, Peg.” Then she tilts her head to the door. She slips carefully away.

Of course, Peg follows, arms still crossed.  Once they are outside, away from where Birdie could possibly hear them, she leans forward, tries to perch up on her tiptoes to make herself taller. “What the hell?”

“Look,” Claire says, taking the glasses from off her nose and the white Santa hat off of her head.  “Birdie loves Santa.  A lot. And she couldn’t figure out why he quit visiting her when she grew up.  She was really out of sorts about it.” She meets Peg’s eyes.  “One year, she wrote him a letter a day from Thanksgiving on, and she asked each of us to write letters, too, and then she mailed all of them out together.  That’s when Lionel and I started doing this, alright?”

Peg grits her teeth.  “He’s not real.”

Claire sighs.  “No, Peg, he’s not.  But Birdie doesn’t know that.”  She reaches over and pats Peg’s shoulder.  “And if you try to tell her, I will personally make sure that—”

“I’m not going to tell her,” Peg hisses.  She glances back to the now closed door, imagining her boss curled up on the couch on the other side.  “I’m not that cruel.”

“Good.”

As Peg turns back, she catches Claire giving her a onceover.  She flinches.  “What?”

“What are you doing here, Peg?”

Peg shifts her weight.  She should have been gone hours ago, but….  “Birdie said Santa and Mrs. Claus came to visit her every year.  I had to make sure she would be okay.”

Claire looks her over again.  Gives a little nod.  “She’ll miss you, if you’re gone when she wakes up.”  Her lips rub together.  “You’re a good kid, Peg.  If you ever need a reference, call me.  I’ll take care of you.”

Peg can’t think of anything to say, so she lets Claire walk away without pestering her further.  Then she turns back, tries to open the door, and finds that she’s locked herself out. Fucking fuck.  She doesn’t want to wake Birdie up, but unfortunately she has no choice.  She pounds on the door.

“C’mon, Birdie!  For once in your life, wake up!”

[lissy-strata]

lol @ whoever was trying to steal my identity to commit unemployment fraud. They failed to consider two (2) important things:

I live in a rural, small town area where our postal carrier knows who I am and knows to forward my mail to my *actual* address.

I have ADHD and I keep forgetting to respond to all this mail asking for paperwork.

Got a letter saying they've denied the claim because they never got a response lol

[charlesandmartine]

Tuesday 7th February 2023

Now when I said we had an exciting excursion planned for today, I do appreciate it wouldn't necessarily be of top interest to all, but we found it to be really interesting. The visit was to the old General Post Office, 1, Martin Place. We were at two minds about the interest level here, but we were really fascinated by it's history.

It all started in 1809 when an ex-convict was asked to sort a bit of a problem out. Ever since the second fleet arrived in 1790 mail was arriving in droves and anyone expecting mail from England would go down to the incoming ship and generally make themselves a nuisance finding out if there was anything for them. With no formal ID checking it could be hit and miss for mail to be delivered either at all, or indeed to the intended recipient. So, the government appointed Isaac Nichols to be the very first postmaster in Australia to sort out the mess. Isaac had been sentenced to 7 years and transported to the colonies for stealing a donkey, so who better qualified to do this job could there possibly be? The first thing he did was to buy a house in George Street where he could live and run the first post office from. He then devised a system of collecting post from the ships, advertising a list of recipients and charging a shilling for a letter and up to 5 bob for a large parcel. His business grew and he became one of the wealthiest businessmen in the colony growing his own personal landholding to 1400acres. Not bad, although I don't think such a happy outcome can be assured for all who steal a donkey!

When he died they didn't have a post office anymore, so in 1825 the government passed the Postal Act, which is when they built the first General Post Office on the site we visited today, corner of George Street and Martin Place. Strangely it was located over what had become quite a nasty disease ridden river called the Tank Stream which caused a few planning problems as you might imagine. Technologies came and went, sorting became an art form and morse turned into telephone and telex. This building saw it all and finally, when it had outlived it's purpose, was taken over by an Asian prestige hotel chain with rooms starting at 500 dollars a night for a basic room. 587 dollars will pay for a valentine's evening meal! They spent a fortune restoring and converting the old building alongside it's new companion, and it was the hotel staff who proudly promote its history by offering free 1.5 hour tours.

All that history gave us a hunger so we went to a food hall for a Chinese.

Arriving home was a bit of a shock when we found our landlord, Bob, had been taken to hospital having had a mild stroke. So we are minding the shop but somewhat stunned. We wish him well. His neighbour, who is a GP has told us his prospects are good because they caught it early.

[brainfondue]

In post apo if someone finds you guilty of stealing or withholding another person's postal packages/letters the postal officers will come to get you.

[dankusner]

NORTH TEXAS Suspects admit guilt in USPS robberies

Two men face up to 15 years in federal prison after pleading guilty to their roles in eight mail carrier robberies this year in North Texas, according to a news release from the U.S. Attorney for the Northern District of Texas.

Louis Dixon and Jerrad Coleman, both 18, were charged in April with one count each of robbery of property of the United States and conspiracy to rob and unlawfully possess property of the United States, the release said.

Dixon pleaded guilty last Wednesday, and Coleman pleaded guilty Tuesday.

The men “trawled the streets” of the Dallas-Fort Worth area looking for postal service letter carriers to rob with the hopes of obtaining an Arrow Key, which is a master key used to gather mail deposited in blue collection boxes, according to court documents. The keys are prized by mail thieves, the release said. It allows them to illicitly access mailboxes to steal mail, checks, credit cards and other sensitive information. The robberies Dixon and Coleman pleaded guilty to occurred between January and April in Arlington, Dallas, Fort Worth and Frisco. They robbed some of the carriers at gunpoint before fleeing in vehicles and using, selling or disposing of the master keys, according to the release. “The U.S. Postal Service and the U.S. Postal Inspection Service will never cease placing employee safety as one of our top priorities,” Kai Pickens, inspector in charge at the Fort Worth Division of the U.S. Postal Inspection Service, said in the release. “Let this serve as a warning to anyone who seeks to harm and traumatize our employees: The U.S. Postal Inspection Service will utilize every resource to find you and bring you to justice.”

Inspector in Charge Sep 2023 - Present · 11 mos — Fort Worth, Texas U.S. Postal Inspector

Aug 2004 - Present · 20 yrs Assistant Inspector in Charge

Inspector in Charge Kai Pickens, Fort Worth Division of the U.S. Postal Inspection Service.

kai.pickens@uspis.gov