#tucson shooting

[pestiferous-plywood]

"I failed. I'm not an Assassin. I ruined my life for nothing." - Jared Lee Loughner

Throughout Jared Lee Loughner's psychological evaluation, Loughner's former psychologist detailed his behavior amid his assessments as, "Logical, alert and oriented, organized and goal-directed thinking. "Competent when maintaining eye contact for long periods of time".

At one point during an interview with Loughner, Loughner accused Tucson shooting victim, Gabrielle Giffords' recovery as "fake". Days later, Loughner doubled down, accusing Giffords' appearance on his television as "Not the real Gabrielle Giffords". Loughner's psychologist combatted Loughner's inconsistencies littered throughout his accusations, resulting in a breakthrough. Loughner admitted, "I was fucking with you before. I just wanted to see what you would say." When questioned about this comment, he exclaimed "Well, she's dead to me." Loughner's subsequent disappointment regarding Gifford's recovery was neither subtle, nor virtuous. "I failed. I'm not an Assassin. I ruined my life for nothing."

Following this evaluation, Jared Lee Loughner was formally diagnosed with Paranoid Schizophrenia.

(Jared Lee Loughner videotaping Pime Community College library. No relation, I just find this particular section of the video iconic.)

[exucaveiradodemonio]

😵‍💫 Jared Lee Loughner 😵‍💫

(๑`^´๑)︻デ═一

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Gabe Fleisher at Wake Up To Politics:

Historically, the closest parallel to what happened last night is probably the assassination attempt of Theodore Roosevelt in 1912. Like Donald Trump — who was shot in the ear at a campaign rally in Butler, Pennsylvania, on Saturday — Roosevelt was a former president when he survived a gunman’s fire. Also like Trump, Roosevelt at the time was running to reclaim the White House, in the midst of a campaign speech in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Finally, and most importantly, the attempts on both men’s lives will likely be best remembered for their defiance in the face of a would-be assassin. In his case, Roosevelt continued delivering his speech, even as a bullet was lodged in his chest. “It takes more than that to kill a Bull Moose,” he famously declared, going on to speak for another 50 minutes before seeking medical attention. Secret Service protocols would not allow such a display today; still, the attack on Trump will forever be defined by this instantly iconic image, of Trump’s face streaked with blood, his fist raised in the air, the American flag waving behind him. It has been 44 years since a federal elected official (Allard Lowenstein, a New York congressman) was successfully assassinated in the United States, a streak that often masks the fact that political violence has been steadily increasing over the last decade.

This is not the 1960s — when a president, a presidential candidate, and several civil rights leaders were killed in a five-year period — but more from a lack of successes than a lack of trying. It has not been an era, thank God, of murdered politicians, but it has been one of dangerously close shaves. On January 6, 2021, rioters came within 40 feet of then-Vice President Mike Pence, as Trump supporters chanted for his hanging and searched for then-House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-CA), among others. Less than two years later, Pelosi’s husband sustained an attack by hammer; if a police dispatcher had not understood his coded messaging, he may have ended up with worse than just a skull fracture. In 2017, doctors told Rep. Steve Scalise (R-LA) that he had been “within a minute of death” after being shot at a congressional baseball practice. Then-Rep. Gabby Giffords (D-AZ) also survived gunfire, but she has never fully regained the ability of speech after a 9-millimeter bullet cut through her brain in 2011.

A man made it just outside of Justice Brett Kavanaugh’s house in 2022, armed with a pistol, knife, hammer, crow bar, and zip ties, but his assassination plot was foiled when he called the police himself, his second thoughts having taken over. Someone made it even closer to then-Rep. Lee Zeldin (R-NY) one month later, climbing on stage during a gubernatorial campaign rally; thankfully, the attacker was armed only with a keychain. Quantifiably, according to a University of Maryland database, political violence since 2016 has been at its highest levels in the U.S. since the 1970s. Before 2016, the U.S. Capitol Police had never opened more than 1,000 threat investigations in a single year; last year, more than 8,000 threats against members of Congress were investigated. Similarly, “investigated threats against federal judges have risen every year since 2018,” according to the U.S. Marshals Service, while election officials are also facing an unprecedented level of menace.

The threats were all able to be foiled, but several — like the bullet that whizzed just inches away from Trump on Saturday — came horrifyingly close to fruition. And oftentimes, even as the politicians live, others become collateral damage of our toxic politics. Yesterday, at least one American was killed simply for attending a political rally of their preferred presidential candidate. [...] Rarely do Democratic or Republican officials stop to acknowledge that their own side might have a role to play in our divisive politics. Instead, when horrors like last night’s unfold, each side reliably finds a way to blame the other party, which only serves to exacerbate further the cycle of hatred and violence that brought us to this point. Even in their responses to tragedy, more toxicity flows loose.

Gabe Fleisher details in his Wake Up To Politics newsletter the history of close calls that would have resulted in the death of various politicians over the past decade and a half or so, such as Gabby Giffords, Paul Pelosi, Steve Scalise, Mike Pence, and most recently, Donald Trump.

[randyseaver]

Tucson shootings and the costs of stigma

(originally published in the January 11, 2011 Portland Press Herald) The horrific event that transpired in Tucson on Saturday has inspired more than ample discussion regarding the tone and spirit of our nation’s political discourse. Despite all the fervent commentary, there is one piece of this puzzle that remains largely glossed over, however. And this is where it gets a bit personal. When I was…

[backwardswalks]

the passenger - screening and q&a with carter smith | horrorigins fest 9/28/24

so there was a screening of the passenger at horrorigins fest in tucson, az over this weekend that had a theater screening of the passenger and then a live q&a with carter smith afterward!

there were some really good questions and there's some video on horrorigins instagram (here and here, they haven't posted a full but i know there were several people recording and the festival is ongoing through today so they may post full video later) but some highlights:

he reiterated a lot of things that he's said in interviews about the script (so i won't go into detail about that)

he talked about his background at FIT and how benson's wardrobe was extremely intentionally chosen, and that the costume designer wanted to kill him bc the exact shade of his cardigan took three times to dye to get it right, it's also acrylic and very itchy (he has one too lmao)

he said that he gave johnny and kyle freedom to improvise on the script as much as they needed/wanted but that for the most part they stuck to it

burgers burgers burgers was a convenience store that they cleaned out and the stuffed animal place was in an actual empty mall that was "abandoned" (he mentioned there were like 7 empty malls they could have used, this one was completely empty so they didn't have to shut it down but idk if it was abandoned in the traditional sense)

he talked about the close ups and how much he loved kyle and johnny's faces and how he could shoot the whole thing in close up

the script was originally called "Randolph Bradley" which he did like but marketing didn't think would grab people and he also likes The Passenger for the movie they ended up making

i wish they had given the audience members mics when they asked their questions bc i'm watching the recording back to make sure i don't misquote something so i can't really hear some of the questions :( they also didn't upload the whole thing as of yet so the rest of this isn't verbatim but:

he agrees that at its core its a love story! when i asked my question i said "i wanted to touch on the love story comment from earlier" (bc someone else briefly mentioned it before asking a diff question) and he was like "i ALSO want to talk about the love story more!!" and was very excited that i brought up that "there's obviously a queer undertone to the film" and he just talked about what he saw in the script and how that came about, again said that jack stanley was like there's no romance but carter was like ummm anyway

he said that "this was the best thing to happen to either of them" (randy and benson) and agreed with someone who had described them as two sides of the same coin

he said that blumhouse also wanted them to lean into the weird romance aspect of it (or were okay with it), kyle was incredibly down to lean into the weird romance and was like "can we make it MORE gay"

afterward the fest went to a bar and mostly everyone went! so we actually got to hang out with carter just me and my friend and we talked a little bit more about the film and just other movies that he's enjoyed, we talked about his weekly newsletter, just random stuff like that. some highlights of that:

he said that kyle was all in on the queer undertone and was like can i touch johnny MORE

he said that there is a scene where benson touches randy again in a way that is similar in vibe to the scene in the mall parking lot where he touches his neck/wipes his tears but that they ended up cutting it because he (Carter) felt like it would undermine the emotional impact of that particular touch! he didn't expand on what the touch was or where exactly it went (he said it was after the teacher but didn't specify if it was after shepherd or mrs beard but i imagine he meant shepherd)

carter said that he would absolutely do a full up and down queer movie with kyle (if it was ever the right fit rather than writing a role for that reason)

it was really great and so interesting to hear his thoughts on the film and on filmmaking as a whole! he is really friendly and super nice and really knowledgeable. he had so much good stuff to say about the industry and he couldn't get enough of praising johnny and kyle both for their performances (rightly so) and what a good time he had making the movie.

bonus:

carter was kind enough to sign my poster (which he reposted the picture of on instagram). (i go into more detail about this event and stuff here) he also gleefully took photos of the saint randy and saint benson candles i made (because i am insane) and said he was going to send them to johnny and kyle because they would love them. kyle also reposted the picture of me and my friend the festival posted of us with the candles so now i am just dryheaving in my room. <3

anyway! support your local film festivals!! without horrorigns this wouldn't have been possible so support local and indie filmmakers and local and independent film festivals! <33

[archivaltrigger]

“Because the US government was not acting on mass shootings, we directly attacked a trait Americans are most known for: their pride in their country. Change the Ref created the Shamecards, a postcard collection designed to demand gun law reform from Congress. Subverting the traditional greeting cards that depict each city’s landmarks, ours show what cities are becoming known for.”

shamecards.org

There is 54 cards total representing:

Annapolis — Maryland: Capital Gazette Shooting

Atlanta — Georgia: Day Trading Firm Shootings

Benton — Kentucky: Marshall County High School Shooting

Bethel — Alaska: Regional High School Shooting

Binghamton — New York: Binghamton Shooting

Blacksburg — Virginia: Virginia Tech Massacre

Camden – New Jersey: Walk of Death Massacre

Charleston — South Carolina: Charleston Church Shooting

Charlotte — North Carolina: 2019 University Shooting

Cheyenne — Wyoming: Senior Home Shooting

Chicago — Illinois: Medical Center Shooting

Clovis — New Mexico: Clovis Library Shooting

Columbine — Colorado: Columbine

Dayton — Ohio: Dayton Shooting

Edmond — Oklahoma: Post Office Shooting

El Paso — Texas: El Paso Shooting

Ennis — Montana: Madison County Shooting

Essex Junction — Vermont: Essex Elementary School Shooting

Geneva — Alabama: Geneva County Massacre.

Grand Forks — North Dakota: Grand Forks Shooting

Hesston — Kansas: Hesston Shooting

Honolulu — Hawaii: First Hawaiian Mass Shooting

Huntington — West Virginia: New Year's Eve Shooting

Indianapolis — Indiana: Hamilton Avenue Murders

Iowa City — Iowa: University Shooting

Jonesboro — Arkansas: Middle School Massacre

Kalamazoo — Michigan: Kalamazoo Shooting

Lafayette — Louisana: Lafayette Shooting

Las Vegas — Nevada: Las Vegas Strip Shooting

Madison — Maine: Madison Rampage

Meridian — Mississippi: Meridian Company Shooting

Moscow — Idaho: Moscow Rampage

Nashville — Tennessee: Nashville Waffle House shooting

Newtown — Connecticut: Sandy Hook Elementary School Shooting

Omaha — Nebraska: Westroads Mall shooting

Orlando — Florida: Pulse Nightclub Shooting

Parkland — Florida: Parkland School Shooting

Pelham — New Hampshire: Wedding Shooting

Pittsburgh — Pennsylvania: Pittsburgh Synagogue Shooting

Prices Corner — Delaware: Delaware Shooting

Red Lake — Minnesota: Indian Reservation Shooting

Roseburg — Oregon: Umpqua Community Collage Shooting

Salt Lake City — Utah: Salt Lake City Mall Shooting

San Diego — California: San Ysidro Massacre

Santa Fe — Texas: Santa Fe School Shooting

Schofield — Wisconsin: Marathon County Shooting

Seattle — Washington: Capitol Hill Massacre

Sisseton — South Dakota: Sisseton Massacre

St. Louis — Missouri: Power Plant Shooting

Sutherland Springs — Texas: Sutherland Springs Church Shooting

Tucson — Arizona: Tocson Shooting

Wakefield — Massachusetts: Tech Company Massacre

Washington — D.C.: Navy Yard Shooting

Westerly — Rhode Island: Assisted-Living Complex Rampage

[sunlightmurdock]

Safe Zone | 0.3 | Jake Seresin / Bradley Bradshaw AU

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: A team of elite naval aviators holding down the fort at the North Island Air Base while they wait for reinforcements after a virus sweeps the continental U.S. - only, it’s been three months and no one has shown up.

Warnings: throughout the fic - gore, death, violence and pretty graphic mentions of all things zombie related, love triangle, smut (18+, minors dni), angst etc. A zombie gets stabbed in the eye in this chapter, it’s brief but worth mentioning

…

“That hair’s getting pretty long, Floyd,” Cyclone comments, looking disapprovingly across the rec room at Bob. “It’s out of code.”

Jake looks up from his breakfast. Like code matters anymore. He’s setting up to go and clear a fresh load of bodies from the perimeter, Bob’s long hair doesn��t seem like a pressing issue.

“My wife cuts my hair, sir.” Bob answers calmly, without looking up from his own breakfast. His voice is quiet, but calm. In the beginning, his voice would tremble at the mention of her.

People quickly learned not to bring her up.

Cyclone looks down at his coffee and swallows. The silence in the room feels suddenly much louder.

“Right. I’ll be at the front gate.” He mutters, turning and walking away.

Bob’s wife isn’t dead. He’s the only one that knows for certain about one of their loved ones. She was back in South Carolina when this happened, she’s stuck there, he’s stuck here.

One of Bob’s primary jobs around here is to make and keep contact with the active safe zones around the country. He was distraught for the first week, checking with every camp in South Carolina until she turned up. She’s safe in the Charleston safe zone - but she’s still there and he’s still there.

Phoenix is pretty sure her family are at the Tucson safe zone. Jake’s confident that his parents would have gotten his sisters and nephews safely to the one outside of Austin.

“Easy enough for him to act like everything’s normal - his family’s here.” Phoenix mutters dejectedly, shaking her head. Bob gives her a soft smile for always standing up for him.

Cyclone lived in the area. He and a bunch of the higher ups got their families here safely. They were living in the officer’s building, until Hondo’s youngest daughter’s crying started keeping everyone up and people were falling asleep on watch.

Now, families stay in the west wing, singles get the building to the east. Bob’s in the west for now, but he has a place earmarked in the east for when his wife gets here. She’s pregnant.

“I miss my mom’s cooking.” Fanboy agrees.

“I miss my vibrator.” Phoenix scoffs. All eyes turn towards her at once. She looks up and frowns, remembering her company. She’s the only girl that stuck around when everything went to shit that isn’t in the west wing, “Open your mouth, Yale, and I’ll snap it off.”

Jake chuckles, standing up and dropping his plate into the sink. It’s someone else’s job to clean that up. The sun’s coming up as he crosses base to go and meet his team.

He turns his head to see Rooster coming out of the control tower. Followed by you. You yawn softly and stretch your neck. Your eyes meet Jake’s. His smiles slightly at the way your face drops, knowing you’re caught. Another thing he could tell on you for if he wanted to.

“Mornin’.” Jake calls out, lifting his hand and waving at you. It’s just to let you both know that he’s there and that he isn’t afraid of being loud.

It’s a falsely friendly gesture. Fucking Bradshaw got to you first. It’s fine, he can see the distance between the two of you - you’re practically yawning. Jake hasn’t lost yet.

Rooster gives him a nod of acknowledgement and then looks back to you, ignoring Jake almost completely. Your eyes linger on Jake’s, he shoots you a quick wink as he passes by.

He’s pissed off. Rooster convinced you to sign up, and he’s already trying to take you under his stupid fucking flightless wing. Jake’s glad he’s on body patrol this morning because he’s got a little anger to get out.

“Wasn’t so bad, right?” Rooster asks as he locks the door behind him.

“Was kind of boring, actually.” You tell him.

He smiles, then nods. “You an adrenaline junkie or something?”

You give a soft shrug of your shoulders, “Maybe.”

He stares at you, lips quirked up just slightly. You’re familiar with the look that he’s giving you. He makes no effort to hide the fact that he likes you. The world ended, what’s the point in pretending anymore?

“So, how’d you feel about picking up some shifts?” Rooster asks.

You purse your lips, still unsure. He’s spent the past five hours discussing the pros and cons with you. It would get you out of the room more.

“I guess there are worse ways I could spend my time.” You answer.

Rooster happily takes care of the enrollment for you, and of course volunteers himself to be your trainer. Cyclone insists that any civilians that will be taking on Navy duties will have one on one training — Rooster couldn’t be happier to abide by the rule.

You get started that afternoon. You both sleep off the ache of last night’s all-nighter for the morning and regroup at 1pm in front of the information centre.

Rooster looks you up and down as you reach him.

“Cyclone’s probably going to want you in uniform once you’re doing real shifts.” He notes, standing before you in what all of them seem to wear.

They each walk around in some variation of a navy working uniform. Some of them in the sea coveralls, some of them in military typical greens. Whatever they have, you guess.

You usually stick to shorts and some kind of t-shirt or tank top. That’s about all you can bear in this heat. It feels hotter this summer.

“I’ll drop some by your place tonight.” He looks down at his clipboard as he says it. This is a test. You spent all of last night brushing off his advances, keeping all conversation strictly platonic.

Now, he’s waiting to see if you’ll correct him here. You let it slide. It’s important to pick your battles, and having a tall brunette with pretty eyes offer to go out of his way to bring you uniform doesn’t seem like something to argue about.

Besides, he can swoon over you all he wants — it doesn’t mean a thing to you either way.

“How familiar are you with base? — I see you walking around often enough that I figure you know where most stuff is, right?” Rooster checks, lifting his sunglasses up onto his head as he looks down at the clipboard Hondo gave him.

You take a step closer and crane your neck to look over the checklist. All basic stuff. Arms training is at the bottom of the list — Luke’s going to be so jealous.

“Yeah, I know my way around.” You agree.

He dips a hand into the pocket of his cargos and pulls out a pen, ticking off the first point on the list. The second is shift posts.

“Okay — I’ll start off by showing you where each of the posts are, we can talk a little about what you do at each of them.”

“Sounds good.” You agree again.

Rooster holds the clipboard by his side and walks you through each of the sixteen posts. Everything in base first: the control tower, the warehouse, the food hall - all of the places with the highest traffic.

You pass by what used to be the Top Gun building, now repurposed to be a makeshift highschool class. You squint as you look through the windows.

“Look at that idiot.” You mutter. Rooster turns his head, finding your brother sitting at the back of the class, balancing a pencil above his top lip - he laughs softly. The girl next to Luke giggles and leans into his side.

“Oh shit.” Rooster’s smile drops quickly. He keeps walking and shakes his head, “That’s Admiral Simpson’s kid. You should warn him.”

You frown and look back to Rooster, “Is Admiral Simpson the scary one?”

“That guy.” Rooster points to the front gate. Your eyes focus on the older man, standing at the top of the wall, screaming orders at a young ensign. You wince. Rooster chuckles at your reaction.

“You and your brother seem pretty close.” He comments, walking right by the gate without doing much explaining at all. It’s clear to you that he’s not showing you around because he cares a great deal about the work you’ll be doing around here.

He just wants to get closer to you. You’re onto him every step of the way.

“Someone’s got to keep an eye on him.” You reply.

He nods, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek. He figures that it’s probably not his place to say anything - and that even if it was his place, you probably wouldn’t want to hear it.

“So, who keeps an eye on you?” Bradley asks. You turn your head to look at him as he walks you to the south wall post. He’s a little red from being in the sun too long, his curls messy from constantly running his fingers through them. He’s handsome - and that black t-shirt is tight enough for you to be able to tell that his body would be just as pleasant to look at.

Before this, you probably would have gone for him. He’s definitely the kind of guy you would have let buy you a drink and tell you that you’re pretty. Back then.

“I do.” You reply calmly, your chin lifted, looking him in the eye.

Bradley’s lips quirk, amused by your response. “Yeah, but - everyone needs a wingman, right?”

You almost laugh. You stare at him, then shake your head, “And you’re going to be my wingman?” He shrugs his shoulders, then smiles sweetly at you. He’s persistent, you’ll give him that.

Jake’s sitting on top of the platform on the south wall, one of his legs dangling down the outside. He glances down as something nudges his boot. He rolls his eyes. The decaying hand reaches for his ankle again. He looks down and stares into its eyes.

Her mouth hangs open and gaunt, growling dully as she claws at the side of the corrugated metal, occasionally grazing his leg. She’s dark-haired and torn open around the stomach. If Jake had to guess, he’d say that her eyes used to be green.

They dullen the longer that they’re dead. Still a bloodshot red where white used to be, her skin is dirty and flaked with drying blood. He looks up, checking the beach. He’s pretty far from the road blocks. This post is usually just to keep an eye on the coast.

The dead usually don’t make it this far up, he isn’t sure where she came from. It doesn’t phase him. He pushes himself up so that he’s on his knees and pulls his knife from his pocket. He doesn’t have one of those spear things Fanboy made here with him.

He holds the railing to the platform with one hand and leans forwards. Her hands reach up eagerly for his face, broken nails caked in dirt and dried blood extending towards his skin. Jake half-winces at the smell. He leans closer, she just about catches his collar.

Jake’s blade pushes through her eye until it’s submerged at the hilt. She sinks to the floor at the base of the wall. Jake pulls back up and wipes his knife off on the calf of his pant leg.

“Hey, Hangman.”

He turns his head, raising an eyebrow. Rooster lifts his palm and waves. Jake folds the switchblade in half and slips it back into his pocket as he looks between the two of you. No one calls him Hangman anymore.

“Bird boy.” Jake answers back. Rooster laughs. Jake turns to look at you, giving you a nod of acknowledgement. You nod back. “Takin’ the afternoon off, Bradshaw?”

Rooster lifts his official looking clipboard, “Showing the newest member of the team around, actually.”

Jake raises his eyebrows, “You signed up.”

You nod once more, but don’t answer him. He lifts the length of rope from in front of him and pulls it into his lap, biting down on the toothpick as he unties the knot he had made earlier.

Static crackles on Rooster’s radio.

“Uh… Rooster, we’ve got an incident in Block B. Could you get over here?” One of Rooster’s staff calls for his help over channel three.

Rooster turns his attention to look at you. “Fuck - I have to go handle that… uh-“

You look at him and nod. He has this look on his face like he’s willing to let that situation escalate if it means he’ll get to stay here with you. Your brows furrow slightly as you wait for him to leave.

“I can keep an eye on her.” Jake offers.

You look up at him, and then back at Rooster. Bradley gives a small ‘up to you’ type shrug. Jake grins, passing the toothpick between his teeth, “Alright, Trouble - come on over.”

Rooster stares at him for a moment. You grab the ladder and pull yourself up onto the platform, sitting down with your legs dangling over the edge, into camp.

“I’ll be right back.” Rooster swears. You nod at him, then lean back on your palms. You and Jake sit together and watch him jog towards Block B. Once he’s out of view, you turn your head to look at Jake.

You’re met with green eyes for just a second, before Jake looks down and continues to work with the rope in his hands. You turn your head and look out over the coast. You can see it from the window in your room, but it’s been almost three months since you saw the ocean without a window in front of it.

You take a deep breath. You look down, lips parting slightly. Jake glances up, catching you frozen and staring over the edge of the wall. He follows your gaze down.

“You know her or something?” Jake scoffs, shaking his head.

You turn your head and frown at him. He’s smirking. You stare.

“No, but - that’s still a dead person.”

Jake shrugs, “You get used to it.”

You think back to the beginning. The things that you saw in the days before you got here. That sick feeling in the bottom of your stomach burns up your sternum and sits on your chest until the heat of it makes you shiver.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” You mutter, shaking off that cold feeling. Seeing them brings it all back. Jake glances up, cocking an eyebrow at you. He hadn’t been expecting you to be so phased by it.

“Did you lose someone?” Jake asks. He has always been one to put a foot over the line. He knows it’s a personal question, and he knows that it’s a disrespectful way to ask. He doesn’t even bother to look up at you as he says it.

But you did just spend the past twenty-four hours in Bradshaw’s shadow, so Jake figures you won’t mind the coldness.

You take the other length of rope and begin to copy what he’s doing. It’s a sailing knot, and a fairly complicated one at that. You run through his exact movements. Jake watches as you copy him.

“You’ve been here since the beginning.” Jake recalls - you’re in Block C, that was the first block to be filled. That means you got here within the first week. You’re higher up, likely to have arrived within the first four days after the evacuation order. “Did you lose someone before you got here?”

“Luke! Put me down!”

You’re interrupted by a shrill giggle. You both look up in unison as a group of teenagers spill out of the Top Gun south classroom. Luke’s got his arms around a girl’s middle, lifting her off the ground as she squeals.

Jake’s lips quirk as he realises who your brother is holding.

“Does he know who that is?” Jake asks softly. You’re glad that the subject has changed. You watch, unimpressed as Luke sets her back on her feet and drapes himself over her.

“No.”

“Do you?” Jake smirks. He lifts his head and squints over towards the front gate. Beau’s facing the remnants of the city, his back to the mess happening behind him.

“Rooster told me.” You nod.

Delilah Simpson bites her lip, grinning as she shoves playfully at Luke’s chest. Luke pulls her closer again and leans in closer to talk to her. Jake watches the situation unfold.

He could intervene, but after you had yelled at him yesterday, he just lets it happen. He knows that Luke’s going to get his ass kicked if her Dad sees them together.

Delilah blushes as she agrees to meet Luke later that night. He smiles, then turns back to walk back over to his friends without noticing you or Jake watching him.

“Hey, Luke!”

You both look up. Jake’s brows furrow slightly as he spots Rooster walking back towards the grass. Rooster holds up a round leather soccer ball, then smiles.

“Hey, you found our ball!” Luke grins as he walks over to meet Rooster halfway. Rooster tosses it to him, then looks up, his eyes landing on you, waiting for your approval.

“Fucking asskisser.” Jake scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. He glances up to find you staring at him.

Your lips are quirked just slightly. He’s surprised to find you amused by the comment. You’re about to smile. The corners of your mouth hint at a grin, then falter as you compose yourself, looking back down as you focus on tying the knot that he’s showing you.

“Oh, you liked that one?” Jake notices, his own lips quirking slightly in response. You don’t answer him, continuing to focus on your work.

“If you’re looking for jokes about Bradshaw, I’ve got hundreds, honey — just say the word.”

“I’m not your honey.” You reply calmly, fingers working nimbly around the rope. You’re getting the hang of it pretty well. Jake smiles at you.

“Are you his?” Jake taunts, knowing it’ll draw a reaction from you to imply that you belong to anyone at all. And it does. Works like a charm. You look up at him, furious at the insinuation.

You notice the smirk of anticipation toying on all of his features at once, not just his lips. Just as much in his eyes. You’re quick to realise that you were about to play right into his hands.

“Maybe if I’m a good girl, he might let me be.” You reply, knowing it would draw an equal reaction from him to imply that you’re interested in screwing his friend. Works like a charm. The amusement slips from Jake’s face, intrigue remains in its place.

He really can’t tell if you like Rooster or not. It’s even more difficult to figure out how you feel about him.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Jake decides, after six attempts of watching you tie and loosen it just fine. He moves forward and takes the rope from you. It’s an excuse to get closer and remind you that he knows what he’s doing and you don’t.

You watch calmly as he does the same thing over again. You mimic his movements and wind up with the exact same knot as before.

“That’s better.” Jake lies. It was already fine to begin with, but now he knows you’ll follow instructions.

…

@shawnsblue @cowboybarbie @perpetuelledaydreaming @xoxabs88xox @thedroneranger @laluneveillesureux @cherrycola27 @momc95 @abaker74 @footprintsinthesxnd @ohtobeleah @bioodforbiood

[scaryscarecrows]

With the Olympics going, what’s the squads and Jays favorite sport? Also, one they would be mostly able to do decently? Can be summer or winter!

This is for the verse of them going back to save Jay btw so Martin too!

Jason: Watching? Equestrian; my city boy ass is still impressed by horses. And let's be honest, here. They don't want me in shooting. I'll make all of them look very, very bad.

Antoine: Fencing's always fun to watch. And I don't know...I was weirdly good at handball in school, so maybe that? No idea.

Riley: Okay, I'm a volleyball watcher, that I actually do watch religiously, and I'd do just fine at Taekwondo. They don't want me, but I'd be fine.

Jimmy: I'm on the gymnastics. I mean. Simone Biles. Je-SUS. And fuck no, none of--wait. Wait, wait. Track. I could do that without hurting myself horribly. Probably.

Mark: Meh, the only thing I watch is the skating. I'd probably be okay at swimming, though; it's too damn hot in Tucson not to swim, and I did okay when we had to take it in school.

Trent: I'm stoked they added surfing. Hell, I'd probably do okay at it; that or weights. Or both. Both is good.

Frank: I watch the snowboarding more than anything, but my golf game isn't too bad, so. Why not.

Martin: Aw, jeeze...uh...I watched the rugby this time. Don't wanna do it, but I watched it. And I took wrestling in school? For like, six months? So maybe?

[ralfmaximus]

Here's the complete list of DHS flagged search terms. Don't use any of these on social media to avoid having the 3-letter agencies express interest in your activities!

DHS & Other Agencies

Department of Homeland Security (DHS)

Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA)

Coast Guard (USCG)

Customs and Border Protection (CBP)

Border Patrol

Secret Service (USSS)

National Operations Center (NOC)

Homeland Defense

Immigration Customs Enforcement (ICE)

Agent

Task Force

Central Intelligence Agency (CIA)

Fusion Center

Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA)

Secure Border Initiative (SBI)

Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI)

Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms (ATF)

U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (CIS)

Federal Air Marshal Service (FAMS)

Transportation Security Administration (TSA)

Air Marshal

Federal Aviation Administration (FAA)

National Guard

Red Cross

United Nations (UN)

Domestic Security

Assassination

Attack

Domestic security

Drill

Exercise

Cops

Law enforcement

Authorities

Disaster assistance

Disaster management

DNDO (Domestic Nuclear Detection Office)

National preparedness

Mitigation

Prevention

Response

Recovery

Dirty Bomb

Domestic nuclear detection

Emergency management

Emergency response

First responder

Homeland security

Maritime domain awareness (MDA)

National preparedness initiative

Militia

Shooting

Shots fired

Evacuation

Deaths

Hostage

Explosion (explosive)

Police

Disaster medical assistance team (DMAT)

Organized crime

Gangs

National security

State of emergency

Security

Breach

Threat

Standoff

SWAT

Screening

Lockdown

Bomb (squad or threat)

Crash

Looting

Riot

Emergency Landing

Pipe bomb

Incident

Facility

HAZMAT & Nuclear

Hazmat

Nuclear

Chemical Spill

Suspicious package/device

Toxic

National laboratory

Nuclear facility

Nuclear threat

Cloud

Plume

Radiation

Radioactive

Leak

Biological infection (or event)

Chemical

Chemical burn

Biological

Epidemic

Hazardous

Hazardous material incident

Industrial spill

Infection

Powder (white)

Gas

Spillover

Anthrax

Blister agent

Exposure

Burn

Nerve agent

Ricin

Sarin

North Korea

Health Concern + H1N1

Outbreak

Contamination

Exposure

Virus

Evacuation

Bacteria

Recall

Ebola

Food Poisoning

Foot and Mouth (FMD)

H5N1

Avian

Flu

Salmonella

Small Pox

Plague

Human to human

Human to ANIMAL

Influenza

Center for Disease Control (CDC)

Drug Administration (FDA)

Public Health

Toxic

Agro Terror

Tuberculosis (TB)

Agriculture

Listeria

Symptoms

Mutation

Resistant

Antiviral

Wave

Pandemic

Infection

Water/air borne

Sick

Swine

Pork

Strain

Quarantine

H1N1

Vaccine

Tamiflu

Norvo Virus

Epidemic

World Health Organization (WHO and components)

Viral Hemorrhagic Fever

E. Coli

Infrastructure Security

Infrastructure security

Airport

CIKR (Critical Infrastructure & Key Resources)

AMTRAK

Collapse

Computer infrastructure

Communications infrastructure

Telecommunications

Critical infrastructure

National infrastructure

Metro

WMATA

Airplane (and derivatives)

Chemical fire

Subway

BART

MARTA

Port Authority

NBIC (National Biosurveillance Integration Center)

Transportation security

Grid

Power

Smart

Body scanner

Electric

Failure or outage

Black out

Brown out

Port

Dock

Bridge

Canceled

Delays

Service disruption

Power lines

Southwest Border Violence

Drug cartel

Violence

Gang

Drug

Narcotics

Cocaine

Marijuana

Heroin

Border

Mexico

Cartel

Southwest

Juarez

Sinaloa

Tijuana

Torreon

Yuma

Tucson

Decapitated

U.S. Consulate

Consular

El Paso

Fort Hancock

San Diego

Ciudad Juarez

Nogales

Sonora

Colombia

Mara salvatrucha

MS13 or MS-13

Drug war

Mexican army

Methamphetamine

Cartel de Golfo

Gulf Cartel

La Familia

Reynose

Nuevo Leon

Narcos

Narco banners (Spanish equivalents)

Los Zetas

Shootout

Execution

Gunfight

Trafficking

Kidnap

Calderon

Reyosa

Bust

Tamaulipas

Meth Lab

Drug trade

Illegal immigrants

Smuggling (smugglers)

Matamoros

Michoacana

Guzman

Arellano-Felix

Beltran-Leyva

Barrio Azteca

Artistics Assassins

Mexicles

New Federation

Terrorism

Terrorism

Al Queda (all spellings)

Terror

Attack

Iraq

Afghanistan

Iran

Pakistan

Agro

Environmental terrorist

Eco terrorism

Conventional weapon

Target

Weapons grade

Dirty bomb

Enriched

Nuclear

Chemical weapon

Biological weapon

Ammonium nitrate

Improvised explosive device

IED (Improvised Explosive Device)

Abu Sayyaf

Hamas

FARC (Armed Revolutionary Forces Colombia)

IRA (Irish Republican Army)

ETA (Euskadi ta Askatasuna)

Basque Separatists

Hezbollah

Tamil Tiger

PLF (Palestine Liberation Front)

PLO (Palestine Libration Organization)

Car bomb

Jihad

Taliban

Weapons cache

Suicide bomber

Suicide attack

Suspicious substance

AQAP (Al Qaeda Arabian Peninsula)

AQIM (Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb)

TTP (Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan)

Yemen

Pirates

Extremism

Somalia

Nigeria

Radicals

Al-Shabaab

Home grown

Plot

Nationalist

Recruitment

Fundamentalism

Islamist

Weather/Disaster/Emergency

Emergency

Hurricane

Tornado

Twister

Tsunami

Earthquake

Tremor

Flood

Storm

Crest

Temblor

Extreme weather

Forest fire

Brush fire

Ice

Stranded/Stuck

Help

Hail

Wildfire

Tsunami Warning Center

Magnitude

Avalanche

Typhoon

Shelter-in-place

Disaster

Snow

Blizzard

Sleet

Mud slide or Mudslide

Erosion

Power outage

Brown out

Warning

Watch

Lightening

Aid

Relief

Closure

Interstate

Burst

Emergency Broadcast System

Cyber Security

Cyber security

Botnet

DDOS (dedicated denial of service)

Denial of service

Malware

Virus

Trojan

Keylogger

Cyber Command

2600

Spammer

Phishing

Rootkit

Phreaking

Cain and abel

Brute forcing

Mysql injection

Cyber attack

Cyber terror

Hacker

China

Conficker

Worm

Scammers

Social media

SOCIAL MEDIA?!

[pestiferous-plywood]

(Predating the Tucson shooting) For a short period of time, Jared Lee Loughner was an active user on infamous forum dedicated to conspiracy theories worldwide, Above Top Secret. His online alias, Erad3, published a total of four consecutive theories within the year 2010. Laughner's reputation on this website long before his attack was laughably ignominious. Ironically, many users criticized his nonsensical claims for being absent of any substantial evidence, that he came off as nutty. Many also outright alleged Laughner of being a troll. (Criticisms such as these were rich, coming from ATS’ very own community.)

What really caught my attention as of reading over these posts was Loughner's bizarre style of writing. His writings, much like speaking in riddles, were not limited to ATS - slideshows residing on his Youtube channel are formatted all the same. Each point he makes consists of, let's say, <40 words. He will take his minimal statement and will, in the best way I could describe, antithetically summarize it - however, sometimes, he simply summarizes sans antithesis. This applies to every one of his posts. Occasionally, his 'summarization' will result in something much lengthier than his initial statement. I just cannot understand, I’m curious if this was supposed to be a writing technique to emphasize his points via reiterating his text, drilling the information into our skulls. Unfortunately, to me and others, he ends up coming off as a broken record.

"If the design of the NASA Space Shuttle keeps the black body temperature of −454 °F from the outside orbit then the NASA Space Shuttle is at a temperature for human life. The NASA Space Shuttle isn’t at a temperature for human life. Hence, the design of the NASA Space Shuttle doesn’t keep the black body temperature of −454 °F from the outside orbit."

(An excerpt by Erad3, All aboard with the empty NASA Space Shuttles! , page 1 (abovetopsecret.com))

I think it is also beneficial to mention that Loughner exhibited an abhorrent fixation for advanced literature. Which, in my opinion, only serves his internet persona as all the more complex.

[meandmybigmouth]

Houston, Tucson and Phoenix are the US cities that are flooding Mexico with the most weapons

Houston, Tucson and Phoenix are the US cities that are flooding Mexico with the most weapons (msn.com)

almetto State Armory is currently offering Labor Day deals. An AR-15, the rifle most commonly used in mass shootings, can be purchased for 50 percent off. The bargain price of 25 cents per round is on offer for a box of 1,000 rounds of 9mm ammunition. Last chance to get a .45mm Glock for $600, says the Columbia, South Carolina-based manufacturer. Palmetto makes its mission clear on its website: “We want to sell as many AR-15 and AK-47 rifles as we can and put them into common use in America today.”

PUT AR-15'S IN COMMON USE IN AMERICA?

[kulturegroupie]

October 16, 1972: Page, Plant and the Indian jam lost to history

It was a slow Monday in October 1972, and the Slip Disc nightclub in Mumbai could hardly be described as “jumping”.

Around 10 people were in the venue, which was the hangout for the city’s nascent rock scene. Slip Disc measured just 30 by 18 feet, with a third of its floor-space taken up by a stage and DJ booth.

That night, three strangers walked in. They were long-haired Westerners who’d just been refused entry into Blow Up, a far more staid nightclub underneath the grand waterfront Taj Mahal Hotel where they were staying.

Madhukar Dhas, aka Madoo, the singer in Indian psychedelic rock band Atomic Forest, was in Slip Disc that evening. “We didn’t recognise them as they walked in,” Dhas, now 72, tells me. “I thought, ‘Who are these guys?’”. But a second glance changed all that. “I thought, ‘Oh shoot. It’s Led Zeppelin.’”

Robert Plant and Jimmy Page were the singer and guitarist in arguably the world’s biggest band. The Zeppelin members were en route home from a tour of Japan, which itself was part of a vast global tour to promote Led Zeppelin IV, their career-high album.

That year, the band had already played to hundreds of thousands of delirious fans from Tucson to Tokyo, and here were Page and Plant – along with tour manager Richard Cole – in a broom-cupboard dive-bar in downtown Mumbai. Not only that, but Atomic Forest and a handful of other Indian rock bands had made a career out of playing covers of Zeppelin, Stones and Jethro Tull tracks. These men were living legends. And they were now in their midst.

What happened next must rank as one of the more extraordinary “I was there” moments in rock history. It also yielded one of music’s most tantalising lost bootlegs. The evening had a broader cultural significance too. In the retelling and the myth-making that accompanied that night, the events at Slip Disc played a role in establishing Western rock ’n’ roll music in India.

As soon as Page, Plant and Cole arrived at the venue and sat down, it was clear to everyone who they were. Slip Disc’s owner, a man called Ramzan, sent over bottles of local beer: it had no head and glistened with what Dhas said looked like soap bubbles. The trio drank. “They were getting tipsy,” Dhas remembers, “but there was no entertainment. A band was there but it wasn’t their time to play. So this guy Ramzan comes to me and says, ‘Come on, sing!’”

Then just 22 years old, Dhas froze with nerves, telling the owner that his band wasn’t contracted to sing at Slip Disc. “I said, ‘It’s Robert Plant, I can’t sing in front of him.’ [Ramzan] dug his nails into my ribs and said, ‘Go sing, you bastard.’ He was desperate. So I thought, ‘What the hell.’”

Dhas took to the stage with a band comprising a musician called Willie on guitar and a drummer called Jamal (possibly from the band Velvett Fogg). Some reports suggest that the bassist with local band Human Bondage, a man called Xerxes Gobhai, also played. They’d never rehearsed together. After a brief conflab, the group launched into Honky Tonk Woman by the Stones, Dhas doing his best to channel Mick Jagger’s manic energy as one of the world’s greatest rock vocalists sat within spitting distance.

“Plant was about six feet away,” he says. “Jimmy Page was probably 10 feet away. They were enjoying themselves.” He dared to catch Plant’s eye. “Robert Plant gave me the thumbs-up. I thought, ‘Oh my God.’ It was the highlight of my musical career.”

As Madooo sang, word seeped onto the street about the VIPs in Slip Disc. The venue started to fill up. By the time the Stones cover was over, the crowd had swollen to around 50 people – or full capacity. The audience turned their attention to the Zeppelin men swigging beer. A chant of “Jam, jam, jam!” slowly filled the venue.

To everyone’s surprise, Page and Plant stood and walked to the stage. A frantic few minutes followed, as Cole tried to get the best possible sound from the amps and Page found that one of the guitars had been strung with piano strings. “You could only get what was available,” Dhas says. Ironically, Page and Plant had an aircraft full of the most expensive and cutting-edge musical equipment at the airport, but customs officials were refusing to release it. They tuned up and played.

Precise recollections of the impromptu set-list vary. It was recorded by Slip Disc’s resident DJ, Arul Harris, but the whereabouts of the only tape remain unknown. According to Dhas, Page and Plant started with a bluesy ad-lib about turning up at Blow Up, the club under the Taj, and not being allowed in. They had apparently gone to the club in traditional dress – kurta tops and Kolhapuri chappal shoes – and the doorman had dismissed them as hippies. By the time they arrived at Slip Disc, they had changed into Western clothes.

Plant sang in his distinctive high voice, with his trademark vocal stammer: ‘I was walking down / And the man wouldn’t let me in / The m-m-mmmmaaan…’ Meanwhile, Dhas remembers, the “dumbfounded” rhythm section tried their best to join in. After about ten minutes of the Blow Up jam, the band segued into Whole Lotta Love from 1969’s Led Zeppelin II. The crowd went predictably wild, although Dhas found himself with a job to do.

The microphone that Plant was using was called an Ahuja mic. It was the only type available in India at the time, and it was screwed onto its stand, unlike the handheld ones that Plant was used to yanking away. As the singer tried to untwist the microphone, its connection with the cable loosened, and his voice cut in and out. Dhas dashed forward to hold the cable close to the mic so it made a connection. He recalls: “I was literally six inches from [Plant’s] face when he was screaming ‘Loooooove’. I was deaf for about two hours after that. That high-pitched voice right into my right ear – oh boy.”

Others who were present have recalled the band starting with Rock and Roll and ending with Black Dog, with the Blow Up jam happening in the middle. Either way, Page and Plant played for just under half an hour. As the cheers faded, Plant promised the pair would return the following evening. “We listen to you, you listen to us, we’re all one in this music,” he is reported to have said.

They returned the next day as promised, only to find the world and his wife at Slip Disc, many with cameras. Page and Plant hated it, staying for around 10 minutes only. Dhas says it was a “fiasco”: “When the crowd turned up they became these rock stars again.”

Plant has acknowledged the role that the night played in spawning rock in India:

“Jimmy and I played in a club in Bombay in 1972,” the singer said in 2012. “Somehow or other we ended up in there with loads and loads of illicit substances. Some guy is writing a book about rock in India – and apparently it was born in this club, with Page and I wired out of our faces.” (He also recalled playing the drums, something other accounts don’t mention.)

In 1981, Plant appeared as a guest on New York’s WNEW 102.7FM rock radio station. Dhas was having a martini with his wife when they heard the show, and he decided to ring in. “I kept calling, and my wife said, ‘Forget about it, you’re not going to get through.’ I said, ‘No. Where there’s a will there’s a way’, and I kept on trying.” He eventually got through, telling the receptionist: “I’d like to say a word to Robert Plant. I am a guy from India, and we jammed.’”

The disbelieving receptionist hung up. But Dhas rang back on a different number and suggested they run his story by Plant. They did, and eventually the Led Zeppelin singer came on the line. “He remembered the night with fondness,” Dhas says.

The sheer joy of the Slip Disc jam is still present in Dhas’s retelling. Plant’s voice may have stopped ringing in his ear – but the memory of that Monday night in October on the Mumbai waterfront lives on.

[usafphantom2]

Growing up at Beale Air Force Base, CA there were black projects and then there were Deep black…. projects …I’m just finding out about many of them now.

“The goal is simple, but the problem is titanic. Get photos of the top-secret Red Chinese hydrogen bomb tests near the Mongolian border deep inside Asia, then get them back, without being detected “ to do this, they needed a MD 21. Which is a cousin of the SR 71.

In the Back Lot of the Pima Air & Space Museum You Can Discover History.

1547 Hrs. December 20, 2009. In the Back Storage Yard of the Pima Air & Space Museum Outside Tucson, Arizona.

Most of what is lying around in the dusty expanse of the aircraft graveyards around Tucson, Arizona is readily identifiable

But there… What is that strange, manta-ray shaped, dusty black thing lying at an angle just on the other side of that fence? It may be an old airfield wind vane or radar test model. But it also may be…

I quickly locate a spot where the entire fence line opens up. I skirt the fence and in a couple minutes running around the sandy airplane corpses I’m inside. There, sitting right in front of me on its decrepit transport cart and dusted with windblown sand, abandoned in the Sonoran Desert, is one of Kelly Johnson and Ben Rich’s most ambitious classified projects from the fabled Lockheed Skunk Works….

I just found the CIA’s ultra-secret Mach 3.3+ D-21 long-range reconnaissance drone. The D-21 was so weird, so ambitious, so unlikely it remains one of the most improbable concepts in the history of the often-bizarre world of ultra-secret “black” aviation projects. And now it lies discarded in the desert. The story behind it is so bizarre it is difficult to believe, but it is true.

July 30, 1966: Flight Level 920 (92,000 ft.), Mach 3.25, Above Point Mugu Naval Air Missile Test Center, Off Oxnard, California. The MD-21 takes off.

Only another M-21 is fast enough and can fly high enough to photograph this, the most classified of national security tests. Traveling faster than a rifle bullet at 91,000 feet, near inner-space altitude, one of the most ambitious and bizarre contraptions in the history of mankind is about to be tested.

Tagboard” is its codename. Because of the catastrophic May, 1960 shoot-down of Francis Gary Powers’ Lockheed U-2 high altitude spy plane over the Soviet Union the CIA and is in desperate need of another way to spy on the rising threat of communist nuclear tests. Even worse, the other “Red Menace”, the Chinese, are testing massive hydrogen bombs in a remote location of the Gobi Desert near the Mongolian/Chinese border. It would be easier to observe the tests if the Chinese did them on the moon. Flat, triangular, black, featureless except for its odd plan form as viewed from above, like a demon’s cloak, it has a sharply pointed nose recessed into a forward-facing orifice. That’s it. No canopy, no cockpit, no weapons. Nothing attached to the outside. Even more so than a rifle bullet its shape is smooth and simple. This is the ultra-secret D-21 drone. The D-21 is truly a “drone”, not a remotely piloted aircraft (RPA). Its flight plan is programmed into a guidance system. It is launched from a mothership launch aircraft at speed and altitude. It flies a predetermined spy mission from 17 miles above the ground and flashes over at three times the speed of sound. It photographs massive swaths of land with incredible detail and resolution. And because of its remarkably stealthy shape, no one will ever know it was there

Despite a successful launch the D-21 drone was lost. In the middle of 1972, after four attempts at overflying Red China with the D-21 drone and four mission failures, the program was cancelled. It was imaginative. It was innovative. It was ingenious. But it was impossible.

So ended one of the most ambitious and outrageous espionage projects in history.

Written by Tom Demerly

Posted Linda Sheffield Miller *disclaimer I did not write this I am paraphrasing.

@Habubrats71 via X

[ruvviks]

drastic + vincent please :3

DRASTIC [x] characters >> vincent mayer (oc), vitali dobrynin (oc) context >> july 2077; vincent and vitali are in tucson to try and figure out a way to stop vincent from dying after johnny silverhand has been successfully removed from his head total >> 1.6k words warnings >> death mention, hospital, needles, surgery mention

‘Vincent. Can you hear me?’

Wakey wakey.

Vincent could barely open his eyes, eyelids and head still heavy with sleep. The air surrounding him was surprisingly cool; as far as he was concerned it was the middle of summer, and he was in Arizona of all places. Wasn’t it supposed to be sweltering?

Someone gently took his wrist. The action itself did not hurt, nor did the feeling that followed– but it caused him instant discomfort that bordered on pain, the sensation cramping up his entire arm and it took him a second to realize it was the work of a needle that was stuck in the top of his hand.

He was in the hospital. He had just gotten out of surgery.

His eyes finally opened, bright light pouring in from the window on his left and momentarily blinding him as he groaned and tried to adjust. The nurse beside him gently placed his hand back on the mattress and hummed a song as she checked something on the screens, gloved fingers rapidly tapping on the keys of the digital keyboard as she typed in some information.

The soft hum of the devices around him was like a lullaby and Vincent slowly exhaled as he closed his eyes again; but a sudden weight on his chest– as well as the sudden realization of what the surgery had been for to begin with– violently ripped him back to reality and he gasped for air, as if all oxygen had suddenly been taken from his lungs.

‘Easy,’ the nurse said, placing a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from sitting up. ‘You’re alright, Vincent. Everything is fine. Try to breathe as normal.’

Easier said than done. He had a fucking cybernetic lung now– and sure, it worked, but the idea alone was more than enough to cause involuntary tears to well up in the corners of his eyes as he could feel his irregular heartbeat in every single inch of his body and his unstable breathing scraped painfully past the dry inside of his throat.

Ever since he had arrived in Tucson it had been one surgery after another. Preventive measures for the most of it– save from the removal of a bullet shard that had still been stuck in his head, the last bit Viktor hadn’t been able to dig out before– replacing damaged organs where possible and removing previously installed implants to minimize risks.

And none of it had helped so far.

Vincent was still very much dying, despite all their efforts. Initially thought to be the damage the Relic had caused in his body, irreparable at that; not so irreparable anymore but with all holes patched and the ship still sinking, he couldn’t help but wonder if Soulkiller was still working its magic.

Sure, the program had been on the Relic itself– but then again, all technology had gotten damaged by that bullet and with Johnny’s engram overwriting his psyche and then his psyche overwriting all of that to separate himself from the biochip, who knows what kind of malware had managed to sneak its way in in the meantime?

‘There’s a visitor waiting for you,’ the nurse said, shooting Vincent a gentle smile after he had managed to settle down again. ‘Would you like me to get him for you?’

‘Yes please, thank you,’ Vincent replied, not needing to ask for a name to know exactly who she meant, and he couldn’t stop his heartbeat from rising in excitement and relief when she left the room to call the man in.

It still managed to catch him off guard, to see Vitali Dobrynin out of his usual work attire. A sight he had gotten to grow more familiar with over the last few months– the whole situation with Johnny had driven Vitali out of the office often enough for Vincent to catch him in simple sweatpants and a hoodie on the regular– yet it still felt a little strange to him. “The man sleeps in a suit,” Jackie had once jokingly told him. Vincent wouldn’t have batted an eye.

‘How do you feel?’ Vitali softly asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed, sleeves of his flannel loosely rolled up and only partially covering his forearms. His hands were clasped together on his lap– for once not a single ring adorning his slender fingers– and he nervously ran his thumb over the side of his index finger.

‘Little strange,’ Vincent admitted as he reached out to take Vitali’s hand in his own. ‘The more I think about breathing, the harder it gets. I know it’s just between my ears, but– you know.’

Vitali quickly nodded, a light smile on his face as he shuffled a little closer and leaned in to press a kiss on Vincent’s temple. Which, of course, also caught him off guard; with the complete chaos of the aftermath of the attack on Mikoshi he had continuously forgotten about the fact he was dating the fixer now, and now that they could finally have some time for themselves it still did not feel entirely real to him.

‘Don’t you think all this is– I dunno, maybe a lil’ drastic?’ Vincent quietly asked, allowing the other man to cup his cheek and run his fingers down his face. ‘I mean– I don’t feel much different than before. Just increases risk of cyberpsychosis if anything. Even with all the removed implants.’

‘You might not feel it now but something is still happening in your body,’ Vitali simply replied, the pre-programmed answer he had been giving Vincent for weeks now. ‘Sooner or later you will start feeling it. And then you’ll be glad we had precautions done before it got too bad.’

‘Costs a shit-fuckton of money.’

‘Which I have.’

‘Well, I don’t.’

‘You don’t need to.’

Vincent clenched his jaw and exhaled sharply, the action causing his chest to tighten a little and he winced, brief panic overtaking him; but nothing else happened, the cybernetic lung doing its job perfectly fine, and he allowed himself to relax again.

It did not feel right to let Vitali pay for his surgeries. He had done so from the fucking beginning, no less– when Vincent had gotten a correction surgery on his chest and Vitali had told Viktor to put it on his tab, despite Vincent continuously telling him he’d get the eddies himself after his recovery.

But Vitali was a stubborn man– painfully so, insisting on helping Vincent wherever and whenever he could. Out of the goodness of his heart, of course; but definitely so out of guilt as well, having to live with the knowledge he had not been able to save T-Bug and Jackie and because of that so desperately trying to save Vincent while he still could.

If he even could.

Vincent lowered his gaze, softly biting the inside of his lip as Alt’s words echoed through his head again. He was dying; there was no denying it, even if he didn’t feel it just yet, and if they wouldn’t figure out what exactly was going on with him he wouldn’t make it to the end of the year.

If he had done the calculations right, he’d be on his deathbed on Vitali’s birthday of all days. He couldn’t do that to him.

But perhaps Vitali was right. Perhaps the surgeries did help and would at least give him a little longer than what Alt had predicted. Perhaps Alt had not even told him the truth; perhaps whatever was going on with him in that moment was only temporary and the effects would wear off the more time would pass.

But with more and more of his body turning into a machine, Vincent could not help but wonder if it wouldn’t just have been easier to transfer his psyche onto a fucking biochip too.

Would’a been a copy, V, you know that. At least you’re still you, now.

But for how much longer?

Even Johnny– or, well the voice in Vincent’s head pretending to be Johnny– couldn’t answer that.

Vitali suddenly turned, pulling his legs onto the bed and moving closer until he was sat directly next to Vincent, leaning back against the raised mattress. He wrapped his arm around his shoulders– and Vincent in return moved closer without hesitation, burying his face in his boyfriend’s chest, grateful the painkillers were numbing most of the pain in his upper body.

‘We will figure this out, my love,’ Vitali softly mumbled and planted a kiss on the top of Vincent’s head. ‘I promise. I’m not giving up on you.’

He had paused all his business and tossed aside all his responsibilities to help Vincent find a cure. Had left Night City behind– had left his business in the hands of Mikhail– and even now weeks later he was still there by his side, paying for his surgeries and keeping him company through it all. Of course Vitali was not giving up on him– and Vincent had never received such devotion before, to the point he had no idea what to do now that it had fallen right into his lap.

‘I love you,’ he simply whispered in return, on the verge of choking back tears when he felt Vitali momentarily tense up. ‘I love you so much.’

He didn’t know how much time he had left. He didn’t know if Alt was right, he didn’t know if any of what they were doing there was helping him at all–

But at least he wasn’t alone.

At least he had Vitali.

[goalhofer]

2024 olympians representing non country of residence part 7

Nigeria: Adebola Adeyeye, basketball (Brampton, Ontario); Michelle Alozie, soccer (Apple Valley, California); Obiageri Amaechi, athletics (San Francisco, California); Dubem Amene, athletics (Farmington Hills, Michigan); Promise Amukamara, basketball (Glendale, Arizona); Ashley Anumba, athletics (Charlottesville, Virginia); Ayomide Bello, canoeing (Bowie, Maryland); Lauren Ebo, basketball (Upper Marlboro, Maryland); Jennifer Echegini, soccer (London, U.K.); Blessing Ejiofor, basketball (Paterson, New Jersey); Nicole Enabosi, basketball (Montgomery County, Maryland); Chukwuebuka Enekwechi, athletics (West Lafayette, Indiana); Edose Ibadin, athletics (Prince George's County, Maryland); Ezinne Kalu, basketball (Newark, New Jersey); Ashton Mutuwa, wrestling (Cedar Lake, Indiana); Dubem Nwachukwu, athletics (Katy, Texas); Adaku Nwandu, swimming (Singapore); Chidi Okezie, athletics (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania); Amy Okonkwo, basketball (Rancho Cucamonga, California); Ijeoma Okoronkwo, soccer (Richmond, Texas); Olaitan Olaore, boxing (Wallsend, U.K.); Sade Olatoye, athletics (Dublin, Ohio); Ifeoma Onumonu, soccer (Rancho Cucamonga, California); Udodi Onwuzurike, athletics (Bloomfield Hills, Michigan); Chioma Onyekwere, athletics (Detroit, Michigan); Antoinette Payne, soccer (Birmingham, Alabama); Nicole Payne, soccer (Birmingham, Alabama); Tobi Sajuade, swimming (Bath, U.K.) & Olaoluwatomi Taiwo, basketball (Carmel, Indiana) Norway: Isabel Freese, equestrian (Mühlen, Germany); Victoria Gulliksen, equestrian (Knokke, Belgium); Viktor Hovland, golf (Stillwater, Oklahoma); Jon-Hermann Hegg, shooting (Dingle, Ireland) & Kristoffer Ventura, golf (Palm Beach Gardens, Florida) Palestine: Yazan Al-Bawwab, swimming (Amsterdam, The Netherlands); Layla Almasri, athletics (Colorado Springs, Colorado); Fares Badawi, judo (Damascus, Syria); Omar Hantoli, taekwondo (Sharjah, U.A.E.); Jorge Sahle; Jr., shooting (Santiago, Chile) & Valerie Tarazi, swimming (Crystal Lake, Illinois) Panama: Bernhard Christianson, swimming (Easton, Maryland) & Gianna Woodruff, athletics (Santa Monica, California) Papua New Guinea: Georgia-Leigh Rotuisolia, swimming (Gold Coast, Australia) Paraguay: Javier Insfran, rowing (Rio De Janeiro, Brazil) Peru: McKenna De Bever, swimming (Denver, Colorado) The Philippines: John Cabang, athletics (San Sebastián, Spain); Aleah Finnegan, gymnastics (Lee's Summit, Missouri); Jarod Hatch, swimming (Morgan Hill, California); Lauren Hoffman, athletics (Haymarket, Virginia); Emma Malabuyo, gymnastics (Los Angeles, California); Bianca Pagdanganan, golf (Tucson, Arizona); Levi Ruivivar, gymnastics (Plano, Texas) & Kayla Sanchez, swimming (Toronto, Ontario) Poland: Magdalena Niemczyk, athletics (Versailles, France) & Mariya Zhodzik, athletics (Baranavichy, Belarus) Portugal: Tiago Apolónia, table tennis (Ochsenhausen, Germany); Thomas Augusto, skateboarding (San Marcos, California); Jorge Da Fonseca, judo (São Tomé, São Tomé and Príncipe); Agate Da Sousa, athletics (São Tomé, São Tomé & Príncipe); Fatoumata Diallo, athletics (Paris, France); António Do Vale, equestrian (Lastrup, Germany); Vanessa Farinha, breakdancing (London, U.K.); João Geraldo, table tennis (Ochsenhausen, Germany) & Rochele Nunes, judo (Pelotas, Brazil)

[wingedjewels]

Like a speeding bullet! by Todd Wynia Via Flickr: There were several belted kingfishers buzzing around Agua Caliente Park in Tucson, Arizona. Shooting them was good panning practice as they move rather quickly in search of fish. I got tons of photos of them against blue sky, but I kind of liked this one against the backdrop of some shaggy palms.