#where am i supposed to obtain this knowledge !! [from the box they came in]

[keeps-ache]

gummy bears :33

[mollymauk-teafleak]

The Problem with Magic Markers

Soooo Critical Role campaign 2 just ended, I've got major brain rot over it and my wonderful gf gave me a wonderful idea for a fic so! This happened! A gift to @spiky-lesbian who came up with this adorable concept and is just generally an all round wonderful person who deserves the world. Also huge thanks to my ever patient, ever helpful beta reader @minky-for-short

If you liked it too, please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!

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Mollymauk is so proud of Caleb in so many ways and, now they have their lovely lives with their wonderful children, he finds more reasons to be every day.

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Mollymauk Tealeaf had learned many things since he’d become a parent, now five years ago. A short amount of time, he’d used to think, but plenty of time to obtain a lot of knowledge you never thought you were ever going to need in your life.

Like how sandwiches cut into triangles were disgusting but sandwiches cut into squares could be eaten by the hundreds. Like how to make a bath appealing to a toddler with the liberal addition of bubble bath and a willingness to get absolutely soaked playing Sharks with them. Like how a scraped knee and bumped forehead could be cured with his cuddles and kisses alone, like how a promise from him that everything was going to be okay was enough to make it so.

And how silence was very, very worrying.

So when Mollymauk walked past his son and daughter’s room and heard only silence, when he knew for a fact they were in there, he stopped dead. He put any thoughts of getting to go and spend some time with his sewing kit out of his mind. Because he’d been a parent long enough to know that something was up, two five year olds weren’t that silent unless some game was afoot, something they didn’t want their parents to know about. Which meant he should probably at least poke his nose in.

So he knocked lightly on their door, the one covered in whichever drawings they were most proud of that week and a hand painted sign Jester had made for them the day they were born, prettily proclaiming ‘Trinket and Una’s Room!’ amongst a flock of miniature unicorns.

“Sweetlings?” he called gently, “Mind if I come in?”

There was a sudden scrabbling from behind the door and he heard a muffled grunt from Una before Trinket answered hurriedly, “Um...yes! Okay daddy!”

Raising a curious eyebrow, Molly pushed the door back, disturbing the usual scattering of toys left on the floor like the aftermath of a felt based battle. Although it did seem like there was more mess than usual…

Trinket stood in the middle of the room between their two little beds, his backpack at his feet and an expression of perfect innocence on his face that was just a little too polished to be anything but an act. Molly had to admit he’d probably learned that from him.

“Well hello there, little man,” he leaned in the doorway, smiling crookedly, “What game are we playing today?”

Trinket shuffled his feet, “Um...packing?”

“That sounds like a fun game,” Molly’s gentle concern upgraded to full blown wariness, “And where’s your sister?”

Trinket turned a deeper shade of purple, looking down at his fidgety feet that were poking more holes in his innocence by the second, “Um...she...um…”

Which was the point Una helpfully chose to poke her little head out of the backpack, dark eyes blinking curiously and ears flapping, trilling, “Here daddy!”

Trinket flushed guiltily, frowning at her, “Una! I said you had to stay shh!”

Molly took a breath, wandering over to sit down on Trinket’s bed. As his eyes swept around the room, he noted a great deal more chaos in the room. Almost like someone had been going through the toy box and the drawers and bookshelves, hurriedly pulling things out, making quick decisions about what to abandon and what to stuff into a little blue, dinosaur patterned backpack. Molly supposed he should at least be grateful that Trinket saw his sister as worth taking.

“Why don’t you talk to me, babies?” he offered gently.

Trinket swallowed, eyes darting around nervously before the last of the fight went out of his narrow little shoulders and he mumbled, “Daddy...can I tell you a secret?”

Molly had to smile. This was almost a running joke between the three of them, his kids running up excitedly to tell him they had a secret for him before whispering into his ear about some apparently very cool bug they’d seen or that Uncle Caddy had snuck them an extra cookie or that he was the best daddy ever. He loved being brought into their world where everything was brighter and more exciting and there was fun to be found in the smallest things. And where everything was felt so much more keenly.

“Of course you can, sweetling,” he murmured gently, patting the bed beside him, “You can always tell me secrets. Whatever it is, I promise we can make it better together.”

As Una rolled out of the backpack, apparently unconcerned and rather enjoying herself, Trinket clambered up beside him and stood so he could whisper into his ear. Molly tucked his purple curls behind one ear, smiling encouragingly.

Voice already trembling, Trinket leaned in and murmured, “I messed up Papa’s coat.”

Molly absorbed that in silence, feeling his son’s anxious red eyes on him. He leaned back, keeping his face carefully neutral before taking a long, deep breath through his nose, marshalling his thoughts.

“Trinket, I’m not going to lie to you here. We might be in trouble.”

His opinion didn’t change when he actually saw the coat. The coat his husband had been wearing as long as he’d known him and refused to be regularly seen without, no matter how many attempts Molly had made to buy him a newer, less ragged, less musty smelling version. It was more a comfort blanket than just clothing, stained and scorched from numerous spells and spills, old leather worn shiny from overuse. He hadn’t said so in so many words but it didn’t take a genius to guess that Caleb had worn it since before he came to the city. Which meant it had probably come from his parents. And though it was old and faded and stained today, it must have been new when he got it, a costly garment for people like the Ermendruds. The sort of gift that would only be given if your only son was leaving home to join the Academy and wanted to show him how proud you were.

A lot of Caleb’s life was like that. Even as his husband, Molly found himself having to piece things together from passing comments and turns of phrase, things that dulled his love’s eyes and tightened his jaw. Molly had about a quilt and a half’s worth of assumptions and semi-finished anecdotes by this point, telling of a sad and fractured timeline.

But he knew enough to see what the coat meant to Caleb and the place it held in his husband’s black and white, yes or no, yours and mine way of thinking.

The coat that now had a minor gallery’s worth of doodles and drawings scribbled in magic marker across the sleeves and all the way down the back. And if he wasn’t comfortable with Molly washing the thing, he wasn’t going to be okay with this.

Trinket had been fretfully watching his daddy since he’d first pulled the coat out from where he’d guiltily stashed it under his bed. As Molly’s mutely horrified silence dragged on, he only became more and more anguished until he was barely in tears, wringing his tail between his pudgy fists.

“I only wanted to make it pretty,” he whimpered, “Papa will hate me. I won’t be his special boy any more.”

Molly looked up at him, reaching out and putting his hand on Trinket’s shoulder, “Oh sweetling, your papa loves you a lot, you know this isn’t going to change that.”

But he couldn’t stop thinking about the times he’d picked up a pen from Caleb’s desk without thinking much of it, doodling with it until he’d looked up to see his husband gaping at him in scandalised horror. Or the times he’d stolen sips from Caleb’s drink when they were at the cafe, the same way he’d do to any of his friends, but Caleb would frown if he caught him, unable to understand why Molly was taking his coffee?

It was just part of the way his brain functioned, the rules it spat out after absorbing years of poverty and trauma, along with some different wiring that had simply occurred naturally. Mollymauk had learned a long time ago how to fondly work with these Caleb-isms, making concessions where it was best to and encouraging his wizard to gentle the restrictions his brain built when he needed to. It was like tending some kind of creeping vine in a garden, the way he saw it. Sometimes things needed moving aside so it could flourish and sometimes it needed pruning so it didn’t strangle the flowers around it. Caleb had been as brave as Mollymauk could have wished in managing his idiosyncrasies and sometimes he just had to sit back and admire how different the Caleb he lived with today was from the anxious, mumbling wizard he’d first met.

But how much patience he’d be able to muster when it was one of his favourite things in the world, Molly couldn’t say. But he wasn’t looking forward to telling him about it.

“Should I go?” Trinket’s lower lip wobbled, glancing back at his half packed bag, which Una was back inside, the front half this time as she munched away on some snack he must have stashed in there.

“Absolutely not, your papa would never want that,” Molly squeezed his shoulder gently, “We’re going to put the coat in to soak so we can get all this ink out and then we’re going to find him and I’ll tell him what’s happened. But you need to be the one who says sorry, okay?”

Trinket nodded frantically, still clinging onto his tail for comfort, “I am sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

“I know, buddy,” Molly drew him close and hugged him tight, hating to see him so upset, “But we’ll be laughing about this before long, you’ll see.”

Maybe if he said it confidently enough, he’d start to believe it too.

Caleb wasn’t hard to find for a number of reasons. For one, their apartment was very small and there were only a handful of rooms to look in. But more importantly, it was late afternoon on a day where Caleb didn’t have any reason to go down to the Academy and fulfill his duties as an adjunct professor and when his bookshop was closed, as it was once a week. Which meant there was only one place he would be, in his half of their spare room, either playing one of his video games or reading.

Molly wasn’t quite sure what they’d do when one of their kids decided they wanted their own room and were tired of sharing, meaning Caleb would have to store his books and he’d have to store his sewing somewhere else. Or if they had another kid. He’d been toying with that idea in the back of his mind lately.

Maybe best not to float that idea with Caleb right after this.

Mollymauk could feel Trinket in his arms, his offer to pick him up and carry him having been immediately, breathlessly accepted. He could sense him getting more tense, more anxious, growing heavier against him as Molly knocked lightly on the door.

“Ja, come in,” Caleb’s response was immediate, not even needing to ask who it was or having to pause over whether he wanted to see them.

When Molly went in, Caleb was in the old, ratty wingback chair they’d liberated from some sidewalk when they’d first moved in, Molly announcing teasingly that a future professor needed some grand leather throne from which to smoke a pipe and pontificate. Caleb had blushed and rolled his eyes, not even believing back then that one day he would get the job he’d always dreamed of having, thinking trauma and past hurts had stolen it from him.

So now Molly always got a small flush of pride when he saw his Caleb sitting in that chair.

His hair was getting a little longer these days, it’s auburn tangles pulled into a small knot at the crown of his head so it wouldn’t fall in his eyes. His beard was growing a little thicker too, more than the usual rusty shadow that dusted his jawline. Molly absolutely was not going to be complaining about any of that, he liked his husband looking a little more rough around the edges like when they’d first met.

As soon as he saw them, Molly with Trinket balanced on one hip, Caleb’s face lit up with a smile. His smiles had been rare once upon a time but now just the sight of his family was enough.

“Hello,” he set the book he’d been reading to one side, already expecting Trinket to want to sit on his lap like always, “How are my loves?”

Near Molly’s ear, Trinket whimpered mournfully and pressed his face against his daddy’s neck. It was more than an ache to listen to, Trinket idolised his papa, following him around whenever he could, listening devotedly as he explained his work even when it wandered far off the track that his little mind could understand. Molly had no doubt the attempt to brighten up his coat had been a genuine attempt to make him smile and he couldn’t imagine how much it was hurting his little boy, to think he’d upset the man he looked up to more than anyone.

Caleb’s smile dulled a little, seeing Trinket hesitate, immediately realising they weren’t here for playtime, “What’s wrong?”

Molly exhaled slowly, carefully keeping his voice calm and level, “It’s okay babe, Trinket just...did something he wants to apologise for.”

“Oh?” Caleb frowned a little, eyes still fixed on Trinket, arms still open.

Molly opened his mouth, ready to do the hard part but before he could, Trinket bolted upright and tearfully burst out, “I wanted to make your coat pretty because you always like my pictures and I thought you could take them everywhere not just in your pockets but I made a mess and I’m so sorry papa! I’m really sorry!”

For a moment both of his parents were a little stunned, not quite sure what to say as his rambles tapered off into spluttery sobs. Molly warily glanced at Caleb, looking for any change in his blank, closed off expression, any flicker of discomfort, even anger.

After a few beats, ones that felt longer than usual, Caleb only nodded, getting to his feet. Gently, he reached over and put a gentle hand on his son’s face, catching some of the tears dribbling down his cheek on his thumb.

“Little Kätzchen, it’s alright,” he murmured softly, “Please don’t cry.”

Trinket sniffled, blinking blearily, “You’re not angry? Don’t want me to go away?”

Caleb’s eyebrows shot up in alarm, “No! Oh, Trinkie, absolutely not. I’d never want that.”

“But…” Trinket’s eyes were wide, hopeful, wanting to take this relief being offered but hesitant to, “It’s your favourite thing in the whole wide world…”

Caleb chuckled quietly, his smile back with all it’s warmth as he leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“Kätzchen, you and your sister are my favourite thing in the whole wide world.”

Molly nearly yelped in panic as he felt the weight of Trinket suddenly leave his arms before realising his son had thrown himself at Caleb, locking his arms around him tightly. He didn’t doubt for a moment that his husband would catch him, only smiling fondly as he gathered Trinket close and buried his face in his hair.

“It’s all okay,” Caleb whispered against the rust red curls he’d given their son, “It’s okay, little one.”

Molly let them have their moment, letting Trinket cry the last of his tears out happily against his papa’s chest, hanging back and feeling his heart thudding warmly against his ribs. Eventually he was their beaming, bright little boy again, if a little damp, wriggling down from Caleb’s arms determinedly after one last little kiss against his papa’s cheek.

“I’m gonna make you a sorry card. The best sorry card ever,” he promised Caleb, already toddling towards the door, “It’s gonna have glitter.”

“Wow, that kid is definitely my son,” Molly observed wryly once his little lavender tail had disappeared around the corner.

“Then you can clean up the mess he’s definitely about to make,” Caleb chuckled, moving into his husband’s arms.

“Hey,” Molly kissed the crown of his head gently, “Well done. I know that must have been hard for you and...I’m really proud of you.”

He couldn’t see it but he could hear the coy smile in his voice, “Well...I meant what I said. Some coat is never going to be more important to me than my kids.”

Molly smiled knowingly, “I know baby….but you know, if you want to scream into that cushion for a little while, that’s okay too?”

There was a short pause before he felt Caleb’s shoulders drop in relief.

“Thank you, Katze…”

“Is it done yet?”

Molly had to fight a smile. He’d explained to Caleb that soaking his coat would take exactly thirty minutes, knowing his husband fixated on time easily, but still he asked every five minutes on the dot. He’d expected nothing less.

“Not just yet, babe,” he repeated, as he had all of those other times, looking up from the laundry they’d been folding so Caleb would have an excuse to hover anxiously in the laundry room, over the tub of hot soapy water and a little rubbing alcohol his coat was submerged in, “Soon though.”

Caleb gave a small grunt, poking a finger into the water curiously like it was some potion he was working over. After a moment, before Molly could turn back to folding the clothes, he frowned.

“This sleeve isn’t in the water…”

Molly’s smile turned crooked, coming over and putting a hand on Caleb’s before he could move the one sleeve into the tub, “I thought maybe you’d want to look at it...decide if you want to keep that one.”

Caleb blinked, not understanding until he turned it a little and saw the drawing his Trinket had chosen to adorn the sleeve with. It was done in bright red, standing clearly against the dark fabric, unmistakable a child’s drawing. There were four figures there, two taller and two smaller. The first had a set of horns drawn a little too large for it’s head, as well as a tail. The second had a long scarf and a scrawled head of shoulder length hair. The next was much smaller, with another set of horns and a tail but the same scribbled hair. And the last was tiny, with voluminous ears and spikes on the end of it’s fingers. All of them had immense smiles and held hands, a lopsided love heart hovering above them.

As the other scribbles and swirls turned into formless ink in the water, Caleb held this one like it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“Yeah,” he murmured, smiling softly, “I think this one can stay.”

[haddonfieldproject]

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.3.11 SATURDAY NOVEMBER 1st, ‪11:46 AM

‬Haddonfield, Illinois

The man walked into the foyer of the large house, squeezing passed the very large security guard who answered the door. A large grandiose staircase arose before him and split half-way up to the second floor, veering off right and left directing toward the two wings of the giant mansion. To his left was a luxiorious dining room with seating for up to twenty. Large renassiance style portraits hung on the walls: picturesque scenes of Italian countrysides and vineyards, the kind of paintings you'd see reproduced on the walls inside of an Olive Garden, only these were no doubt original. To the man's right was a large parlor, with more vibrant paintings, sculptures, antique sofas, and a grand piano in the far corner.

An elderly woman sat on one of these. She was cross-stitching silently. She looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed, and then she looked back at what she was doing. The man sighed, ignoring her. In front of him, to the left of the stairs was a sliding door that opened into the actual living space of the home. From there he heard the voice call to him, “Come in son, come on in.”

The man entered the room and saw his boss sitting on a large leather sofa, a persian cat on his lap. He was watching the large flatscreen television mounted above the stone-hearthed fireplace before him. More aerial shots of the burning hospital. The man was frail, liver spots speckled his olive skin. His hair, once brown, was gray and thinning at the top, his eyes once black as night has turned to the color of charcoal smoke. He wore a plush royal blue robe and an old fashioned sleeping cap that reminded the visitor of Ebeneezer Scrooge.

The man bent to one knee before the old man. The cat hissed and jumped off the elderly man's lap and ran off toward the adjacent kitchen. The old man extended his hand, “Thank you for coming so soon.”

The man kissed the old man's hand, “Sure thing Mr. Vizzini.”

“I hope I did not trouble you too much last night Andre,” Mr. Vizzini said as Andre took a seat on the couch beside him.

Andre smiled, “Hey boss...a little romp through the woods never hurt no one.”

Mr. Vizzini laughed. “Good. I didn't get to apologize to you before when we spoke. We were...” he chose his words carefully, “too busy speaking of the grave matter at hand.”

Andre nodded.

“I trust you delivered my message to Mr. Tarasenko and our beloved mayor?” Mr. Vizzini asked, turning back toward the television.

Andre turned toward the screen as well, the national news had gotten a hold of Holly West's interview with Rosalita and were now playing it to the nation.

“Yes boss,” Andre sighed, “And I would have called you sooner but I was getting some much needed sleep.”

Mr. Vizzini nodded, “Your insomnia again?”

“Yes sir, it's been a really bitch, pardon my french.”

Mr. Vizzini smiled, “Well we all need our rest. When one is tired, one cannot think.”

“Yes sir.”

“And I need everyone at the top of their mental capacities.”

“I agree.” Andre remarked.

The old man held up a small square device that he had in his lap. It was a gray box with a single solitary red button on the top. He held it up now and pushed it. Somewhere in the far reaches of the house a chime was heard, soft and tonal. After a few seconds, there was a small crackle of static, and a woman's voice could be heard on an un-seen speaker.

“Yes Mr. Vizzini?”

The old man cleared his throat, “Caterina, would you be a dear and bring my guest and I a scotch on the rocks please?”

“Certainly Mr. Vizzini.”

There was a click indicating the speaker went dead.

“So what did our friends have to say for themselves?” Mr. Vizzini cocked his head to one side inquisitively.

“Tarasenko looks shaken up.” Andre said.

Vizzini grunted and nodded.

“And Dodge wants another front, just like you said he would,” Andre smiled.

“And you told him that that would not be possible?” The old man cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes sir,” Andre said, “he asked me to ask you to reconsider, again, just as you said.”

The old man sighed and nodded. He closed his eyes as if wrapped in meditation.

There were footsteps and into the kitchen appeared a young, tall, beautiful red headed woman that Andre had seen before. It was the waitress from Lou Martini's club.

Tina Tomcat, Andre remembered.

She looked tired in the face, but smiled at the two men cheerfully, holding a small glass in each hand of the brown scotch. Little crushed ice floated in each glass. Her corset had been replaced by a very cliché french maid outfit, which covered her private parts and some more of her body, but not much else.

Mr. Vizzini smiled as he took his glass, “Andre, I'd like you to meet Caterina. Caterina this is my dear friend Mr. Andre.”

Tina smiled at Andre and held out his glass. He took it with a smile of his own.

“We've met before,” Andre replied.

The old man waved a wrinkled hand, “Ah I suppose so, at the Rabbit-in-Red!” Mr. Vizzini took a sip of his drink and then said, “Caterina came in late this morning after no doubt a night of considerable carousing. Mr. Andre and I were just discussing how important sleep is to the body.”

Tina turned and waved a hand back at him, “I'll sleep when I'm dead,” she said with a wink, “besides, I make a hell of a lot more at the Rabbit than I do at this place.”

Andre's eyes went wide. He stared at Mr. Vizzini nervously and took a sip of his drink. He winced. It was very strong.

Mr. Vizzini broke into laughter, which then turned into racked coughing. When he was done coughing, he wiped his eyes and said, “That's what I love about her.” He choked another gulp of his drink down. “I appreciate honesty in a woman.” He raised his glass to Tina.

Tina gave a little curtsy, and disappeared around the corner.

The two men looked back at the television. A picture of the Chumway brothers now dominated the screen. The big bold tag line at the bottom read: MANHUNT ENDS IN MAYHEM.

After a moment, Andre cleared his throat, “Sir, may I offer an opinion.”

Mr. Vizzini sipped and nodded, “Certainly. My appreciation for frankness is not specific to the female gender.”

“I worry that this may not be a good time to send a message to Dodge.” Andre looked down at his glass. The old man had a reputation, he didn't want to discover the fine line only after crossing it.

“You think I should give Mayor Dodge the money.” Vizzini said, very frank himself.

“I think it would be wise to, I think we can both agree the situation has changed.” Andre said, gesturing toward the television.

“I think for the better perhaps.” Vizzini replied. “To my knowledge, the shipment has yet to be...spoiled shall we say. There may be time and an opportunity here to...salvage it, and for that I'll need friends in high places, and for that I'll need leverage.”

“I haven't considered that,” Andre admitted, “But there is always the flip side. This place is now crawling with law enforcement at all levels, and no matter how good we are, there is always a trail, and eventually that trail leads to Tarasenko, which in turns leads to Dodge, which in turns leads to you.”

“I have considered it,” Vizzini said. He sucked the rest of the scotch down in the glass with a loud slurp.

“What was done with the van, if I may ask?”

Vizzini waved, “Oh that was easy. The First Congregational Church of Holiness and Power was just bequeathed a brand new cargo van for their congregation. Complete with title in the envelope signed off to the church from a Mr. Juan Pagan of Winchester Indiana and cash to obtain a new tag.”

Andre smiled and nodded approvingly.

“Mr. Pagan even called me this morning and told me the Pastor of the church called him and thanked him personally.”

“Praise God,” Andre lifted his glass.

“Indeed.” Vizzini took some ice in his mouth and chewed it.

“However.” Andre frowned, “If the cops do get the shipment and nab Tarasenko, do you think he'll talk?”

“Doubtful,” Vizzini responded.

“What about Dodge?” Andre asked. “I see the honorable mayor putting a finger on you at the first hint of trouble.”

“Oh please,” Vizzini laughed, “I have the ability to be on flight to the United Arab Emirates like that,” he snapped his gnarled fingers, “Robert Dodge would love to fantasize but as yet he possessed no such ability. He will go down, he will go down hard and he will go down alone.”

“Is that what you want?” Andre asked.

“Of course not. I'm going to give him the money Andre. This is an opportunity with two heads.”

“How so?”

“On one hand, this is a great opportunity to get more out of our arrangement with Dodge. The spotlight is on him now,” Vizzini gestured at the TV which was now in a commercial. Ramon Aguilar of the newly crowned World Champion Chicago Cubs was singing the praises of a Liberty Burger extra-value meal.

“He'll be desperate. Like an ant under a magnifying glass directing the light of the sun, he will have no where to go and he will be like puddy in my hands.”

Vizzini's eyes went dark. I'm beginning to see the reputation, Andre thought.

“From the other angle,” Vizzini continued, “this is a good time to teach a lesson. The mayor has to learn that he is becoming a liability for me. A liability that I can no longer stomach.”

Andre drained the last of his scotch. “I just worry the cops are going to nab the shipment before we can inact damage control.”

Vizzini smiled and patted the large man next to him on the knee. “Worry solves nothing. We will just have to wait and see what happens.”

Andre sighed, “I just wish I knew.”

NEXT>>

[maximumninjavoid]

Mining for Unobtanium 33

Ah, the angst. Oh, here it comes. There’ll probably  be some more smut. But for now? ANGST. Angsty angst. Ninety three followers. Slowly creeping towards 100. Never thought I would see the day. Honestly.

WARNING. Angsty as f*ck. 18 and over, Adult themes. Teh Secks.

I found a job in Thailand, and was negotiating a start date for right around the time he went back to filming. I just hadn't figured out how to actually make my exit. I did what came naturally to me in difficult times. I got out the heavy weight paper, and the good pens and started to write. " Look, love, I've got to go. Its for the best, really. No woman worth you will start dating you with me lurking around, peeking out from behind potted palms. And I KNOW you want a family. A traditional one. Like everyone else in your family. You are perfect husband material, and you're going to be the most doting dad that ever there was. I hope you have a daughter. She will wrap you around her finger like taffy. And enough boys for rugby, of course. You know I still want to be a part of your life, I just know that it may not be possible. I promise you will always know where to find me, and if you really need me, I will always have your six. Text me the phrase we agreed upon, and I will drop everything and be right at your side, as fast as I possibly can. Whenever, wherever. That's my word bond to you. While I draw breath, I am yours. But, Hen, you must understand I love you far too much to keep you from your dreams, or worse, to have you wake one day and see those beautiful eyes tinted with regret or resentment. I couldn't bear it. Find a woman who loves you for you. If you retired, and built ships in boats ( and how DO they do that, anyway?) She should love you just as much as if you were fifty feet tall in Times Square. Make sure she's self entertaining. If you get lost on a quest, she needs to be able to find her own things to do, that she loves, and you'd best encourage those things. Share her passions like I know she will want to share yours. Don't fall for that stalker shite, sugar. I know, I'm going to tease you about that till the Fourteenth of forever. That's funny. Never let your PR people pick your dates. Somebody who's rude to staff or servers or underlings NEVER EVER gets a second date. If KAL doesn't like her, run away, FAST. Find a woman who makes you laugh. And who loves sex and intimacy as much as you do, and make sure she understands that those are two separate things. There will come a time when sex will not be as spontaneous, when you've got to work at making time to be a couple, and not mummy and daddy. Never take each other for granted. Appreciation and honest kind words go so far. Harsh words cause the deepest wounds, tear open the oldest scars. Be gentle with each other. If you can, make her part of your team, and you of hers. Support her work enthusiastically. If you're not worlds away, show up for her things, and the kids things. Nothing is as adorable as the performances of small children, and before you know it, they won't want to spend any time with you..Always foster her independence. It gives her room to grow and she will never run out of ways to contribute. If you give her more than three babies in four years, GET THE WOMAN SOME HELP. And for everyone's sake a nice OLD lady, older than I am. There is no win in the mixture of post partum depression, struggling to get your figure back and some chippie in your house falling all over your husband and "stealing your children".  And that woman who comes to help? Her NDA better be tighter than a camel's ass in a sandstorm. I'm trying so hard to not forget anything. I know you and I know once you read this you're going to be quite cross with me and I won't hear from you for a while. You'll be licking your wounds, as will I.” I stepped out to smoke, it didn't help. This was going to be ugly crying. I blew my nose, splashed cold water on my face, and soldiered on. I picked up the pen, not even enjoying the feel of a good pen in my hand, unappreciative of its heft and balance, giving no fucks about the way it glided across the page. I might as well be writing in my own blood. “Cross with me. My talent for understatement, I suppose. You'll be furious. And I'm sorry. I know, its insulting and insufficient. But I am sorry. And you know I would use the fragments of my broken heart to mend yours, but I am not wizard enough to make this what it can never be. I meant what I said. If you need me, I will be there.  Be honest with her, about what part I play in your well being.... That at some point you may need to surrender your control. That even Daddies need Daddies. And for both your comfort and your honor,  I can promise not to annihilate your marriage vows while providing that for you. You CAN do what it is we do with out sex. It just isn’t as fun. I don't think now that you've opened Pandora's box that it will close easily. I believe the things you've found there resonate too deeply for you to just dismiss them. It is why you came looking in the first place, because you knew that those pieces were missing, there were voids to be filled. But remember, you can’t play these reindeer games with everyone. This can’t get out, can’t be public, so be careful.  I know your heart, I have the measure of you. I have no concerns that you'll be callous or unnecessarily cruel. You'll find that edge and ride it like some fucking prize stallion in a steeplechase, but you won't ever be abusive and there will always be love and passion behind what you do, its who you are. Thank you my dearest, for allowing me the opportunity to pass on my skills, and my knowledge. The people that taught me would be so pleased to meet you, to see your heart, your passion, your skill. Bless you for letting me tell you my stories. I know now that they will not disappear. You will never know how much of a gift that was for me, and I can never repay you. All my love in this life and the next..... And I signed it. I folded it and put it in the envelope, and started gathering my things. Time was running out. I sent a box or two back to the States, made arrangements for someone to look after my house, and researched flights. I could be in Bangkok in less than three days, and with a negative Covid test, no quarantine. Going back to work would get me out of my own head, and I knew, if I stayed there, in my head;  very bad things were in store for me. They had sent my visas, my work documentation, they emailed my offer letter, and had sent an open ended return ticket. Most of what I needed I could obtain when I got there, and the idea of having a custom tailored wardrobe was very appealing. Plus,  its a rainforest jungle. Shorts and t shirts, wraps, sandals, not much more than that, really. Maybe a swimsuit or two. With my vacation days I could see all the places on my bucket list and or do medical tourism. Its funny, to be gone for this long and have it not be that big of a deal, in a pandemic. No one was even looking for me. Now I needed to start working on the Long Goodbye. When he came home that evening I had dinner waiting.  Kal's dinner too. I wasn't fucking around. Soft lights, candles, that red wine he liked, I wasn't going to miss a trick. I was all put together, everything shaved, lotioned, make up that looked like I hadn't any make up. I mean, I can't do fresh faced anymore. During dinner we talked and I worked so hard not to lose it completely. I smiled and laughed in the appropriate places, held up my end of the conversation. At the conclusion of the meal I started to tidy up and he followed me into the kitchen. Music was playing and I was humming as I did the dishes. I didn't realize he was leaning against the doorway, watching me. He crossed the space in just a few steps, one arm at my waist and spun me around to face him. I squeaked, startled. He smiled and pulled me in for a kiss, took my hand and danced around the kitchen with me ...... Henry singing  in my ear "Ooooh, I been missing you And the way you make me feel inside What can I do? I can tell you’ve got your pride now, baby Come to me (oh well, oh well) Let me ease your mind (oh babe) I’ve got the remedy, yes I do Now give me just a little time (Here in my mind, Girl, I wanna shake you down) I wanna rock you down (I can give you all the lovin you need) I’m gonna love you (Come on let me take you down) Oh well or well (We’ll go all the way to heaven)* Gregory Abbott “ Shake You Down” I was pulled up tight against him, one of his legs in between mine as we slow danced,  my head on his shoulder, I was practically purring. Back in the day we called that cock dragging. He led magnificently, I didn't think about how clumsy I usually was or where my feet were going, he just guided me around the kitchen singing to me, dancing. I looked up at him, lost in those deep soulful eyes....

" You were three when this song came out" I laughed. " I have several older brothers and the music you love brings back great memories. " As the song ended he dipped me, practically to the floor, and I didn't panic. His strong arms had me I was secure and knew I wouldn't fall. Well, not from being dipped.He ran his tongue up my sternum, between my breasts, up my neck to finally claim my mouth.

@indigosaurus​ @fishcustardandclintbarton​ @tinareher​ @whyyoudothistomecavill​ @littlefreya​ @angryschnauzer​ @dancingwendigo​

@michellemybelles-world​ @geraltsbottomsbottom​

[drgrlfriend]

[Read it on AO3]

Clint feels like he’s been asleep for all of two minutes before the bed starts to vibrate.

“Mrrrngggh?  Whuh?” he mumbles.

He pries his eyes open.  The whole front wall of his bedroom is awash in green, with yellow text.

NOTIFICATION

With a disgruntled huff Clint pulls his aids off the side table and fits them into his ears.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir.  I have a notification for you.  Sergeant Barnes is accessing the armory.  He has also obtained keys to a vehicle.”

Clint rubs a hand over his face.  “Why do I care?”  He’s got 99 problems, but the goddamn Winter Soldier ain’t, to his knowledge, one of them.

“You are the ranking Avenger on site, sir.”

Clint considers this horrifying prospect.  Although…

“Jarvis, am I the only Avenger on site?”

“Yes, sir.”

Well.  Some things never change.

Clint says goodbye to the prospect of sweet sweet sleep, shoves himself into a pair of jeans, and pulls his emergency bow and quiver from under the bed.  

_______

“What’re you, craving nachos or somethin’?”

Barnes pauses for only a moment, and then resumes strapping on the Kevlar tac vest.  He already has at least six knives secreted about his person that Clint can suss out, his Glock 17 strapped to his thigh, and his M4A1 across his back.

Clint watches as he fills his various pockets and pouches with ammo and a few grenades for good measure.

Clint hadn’t been sure what he would find down here.  He’s seen footage from D.C. — the empty-eyed Winter Soldier, the relentless killing machine.  And he’s seen Bucky Barnes, the man who has skulked around the Tower as Steve’s shadow for the last six weeks since he finally came in from the cold, hiding away in oversized hoodies and avoiding eye contact with everyone.  This is someone new — Barnes’ movements are purposeful, deliberate, but there’s full awareness in his eyes.

“You can pretend you never woke up,” Barnes suggests, and Clint is surprised to hear a trace of a Brooklyn drawl in his voice.  Those old ‘40’s film reels never had sound.  “Go back to sleep and act as surprised as anyone that I’m not here when they come back from mission.”

“Could do.”  Clint spins his bow at his side.  Under normal circumstances he would have faith in his ability to draw and fire in time to get the drop on anyone, even from this position.  But the Winter Soldier is a fucking exception, and if he wanted Clint dead then Clint would already be a corpse.

So Clint tries to look as nonconfrontational as possible, while still wondering what the fuck he’s supposed to do.  He’ll have to decide quick, too.  If Barnes tries to fit another grenade in his side pouch this whole place is gonna blow.

“What the hell,” he says.  He puts down his bow.  He thinks he sees relief in Barnes’ eyes for just a moment, and then Clint is pushing past him, pulling his own gear from his locker.  “I always did love a good road trip.”

They are past Philadelphia by the time Barnes finally asks.

“Why’re you comin’ with me?”

Clint stuffs a cold french fry in his mouth and washes it down with even colder coffee.  Yuck.  “Y’know, like I said.  I’ve always loved a good road trip.”

Barnes makes a face like Grumpy Cat.  “Why don’t you tell me the truth?”

Clint shoots him a sidelong glance.  “I’ve known you six weeks, and I haven’t said more to you than ‘Pass the coffee.’  Ask me again when I know you better, and maybe you’ll have earned the truth.”

Barnes turns his head to stare out the window.  There’s nothing but empty fields, and a sky lightening to dawn out there, but he seems to find it mesmerizing.   “Fair enough,” he finally says, so quiet that Clint’s aids almost miss it over the rumble of the engine.

_________________

Barnes seems to have been navigating on instinct up until now, but somewhere in Eastern Kentucky he pulls up some coordinates on a burner phone he produced from god knows where.  They approach slowly, stopping a few miles out, driving the car a good hundred yards down an abandoned mining road and covering it with brush for good measure.

They creep back towards the main road, hiding in the bushes when a supply truck rumbles by.

“You stay here,” Barnes says authoritatively.

“As if.”  So sue him, Clint has been hanging around with Katie-Kate a bit too much.

Barnes turns to him, and Clint feels the full force of those slate-blue eyes for the first time.

“This isn’t your fight.”

Clint considers it.  For about a millisecond.

“That Hydra in there?”

Barnes nods.

“Then it’s my fight.”

__________________

They’ve done a sweep of the perimeter, and it certainly checks all the boxes for a super sketchy neo-Nazi base, but Clint can’t help the little sliver of doubt that’s taken root in his mind.

“Wait,” he says as Barnes starts to approach.

“No,” Barnes says flatly, shaking him off.

“Gimme ten minutes,” Clint says urgently.  “Please.”

He can already tell that Barnes isn’t going to go for it.

“Ten minutes to make sure we’re not about to kill a bunch of innocent people,” Clint says, and Barnes’ eyes widen for the barest moment.  Then he’s back to looking impassive, but he nods, sharp and curt.

Clint pulls out his own phone, dialing from memory a number so secure it can never be entered into speed dial.  “Patch me through to Hill immediately, priority Hawkeye.”

He can see suspicion gathering in Barnes’ eyes, but — dammit, this is too important to just go in half-cocked, no matter what Barnes thinks he knows or remembers.

“Maria?  I’m sending you coordinates.  I need satellite confirmation that this is a Hydra facility in the next 8 minutes.”  He rolls his eyes.  “No, I’m not drunk.”

He transmits the coordinates.  They sit around staring suspiciously at the phone for what feels like an hour, but knowing Maria is probably 7 minutes, 59 seconds.

“Confirmed,” Hill says.  “We had suspicions of a cell in that area but had been unable to locate it.  Stand by.  SHIELD team will be on site in 50 minutes.”

“Yeah....so, about that —”

“Clint,” Maria says threateningly.

“C’mon, Maria.  You owe me, right?  You gotta give us this one.”  Clint doesn’t actually think she does, but hopefully she doesn’t keep good track.

And of course Maria picks up on the one thing he was hoping she wouldn’t.

“Who is us?”

Clint lets the silence speak for itself.

“Motherfucker,” Maria breathes.  “Okay, you’ve got until my team gets there to do what you’re gonna do, but if you get yourself killed on some cowboy mission, I’m gonna resurrect you just so I can kill you again myself.  And then I’m gonna resurrect you one more time so Natasha can do it.  Slower.”

“Sounds fair.”  Clint wouldn’t put it past her in the least.

_________________

For some reason, he and the Soldier move like they’ve been fighting together for years.  Barnes takes the left, Clint covering his six and right flank.

They hit the perimeter guards before they even see them coming, quick and silent, and then make their way to the facility.  They’ve cleared three of the six sections before the alarm even goes off, and four before the dumbasses seem to figure out what their walkies are for.

The Hydra guards have numbers, but their skillset is frankly embarrassing.  One gets in a lucky shot along Clint’s forearm, and Clint sees Barnes grunt from a few impacts to his Kevlar, but luckily none of these morons seem to know enough to aim for the head, or at least have the skill to hit it if that’s what they were aiming for.

They have the run of the place by the time they hit the last section, and Clint somehow knows without Barnes saying a word that this is where they’ve been headed all along.  Barnes’ jaw is set, his eyes like ice.  

He kicks open a door that looks just like any of the million other doors they’ve passed.  He grabs the gibbering labcoat inside by his hair, slams his face up against the retinal scanner, and holds him there until it beeps.  Then he casually knocks him unconscious against the wall and throws him aside.

A second door, reinforced with steel plating and more high-tech than any of the others they’ve come across so far, opens up.  The staircase behind is steep and dark, with a rough stone ceiling so low they have to duck their heads.  Part of the original mining tunnels, maybe.  Clint swallows down his claustrophobia and follows Barnes’ wide shoulders.

It gets colder and damper as they go, until Clint is sure that they are deep underground �� he can feel the increased air pressure against his scarred eardrums.  After what seems like hours they come to another door at the bottom.  Barnes pushes it open without hesitation, revealing a small chamber carved from the stone.

Clint pulls in a sharp breath.  Everything makes sense all at once, like one of those optical illusions that you can’t quite figure until you look at it just right.

Clint had read Barnes’ files — everyone had to sign off on the debrief before he took up residence in the Tower.  He had seen pictures, but they hadn’t even come close.

The chair is grotesque, like something out of a horror movie set.  It’s bulky and sharp-edged, all metal restraints and partially-exposed wiring.  

Barnes stands in front of it as if frozen for a full moment.  Then he’s moving forward.

He starts with the head restraint.  He pulls it right off, and casts it aside.  It makes a horrible screech as it ricochets off the walls, metal against rough stone.  And then, like a dam suddenly broke inside him, Barnes is tearing at the chair — ripping it to pieces with his metal and flesh hand alike, careless of the injury he’s doing himself.  

“Jesus fuck,” Clint breathes.  The control panel is off to the side and Clint runs to it, finding the power inputs, yanking them before Barnes can fry himself.  Clint’s not sure he would even notice.

The chair is down to the metal frame now and Barnes is slamming his vibranium arm against it, a relentless reverberation that makes Clint’s teeth rattle.

Clint casts around for something, anything.  There’s a fire panel on the wall.  Clint opens it up.  It’s not perfect, but anything is better than this.

“Barnes,” he yells.  And when that has no effect, “Bucky!”

Barnes wheels around, hair wild around his face, eyes murderous, and for a moment Clint thinks he’s gonna be the next target of his berserker rage.

“Here,” he manages to say.  He holds up the fire axe he found.

Barnes manages a nod.  He takes the axe to the chair, sparks flying.  Clint backs away.  He’s got one eye on the clock now.  It’s gonna be good for absolutely nobody if they’re still here when the SHIELD team arrives.

Finally, they’re out of time.  “Bucky,” Clint says.  “Bucky!”  It takes a moment but Barnes finally grinds to a halt, chest heaving, arm dropping heavily to his side.

“Gotta go,” Clint says curtly.  

Bucky nods numbly.  He suddenly seems empty, exhausted.  The fire axe clangs to the ground.

Clint takes point on the exfiltration.  Bucky has his gun drawn but he seems dull, sluggish.

“C’mon, Bucky,” Clint snaps.  “Stay with me.”

Bucky manages to lift his head, and immediately takes out a guy who had come up on Clint’s right while he was distracted.

“Jesus,” Clint breathes.  That was a little too close for comfort.

He still feels like he’s dragging Bucky, deadweight in his wake, but they make it to their vehicle and are at least five miles away before they see the lights of the quinjet swooping down like Kentucky’s next top alien sighting.

__________________

Clint pulls into the motel parking lot.  He pulls a plaid flannel shirt from his pack, stripping off his tac suit vest and pulling it on over the plain black undershirt.

“Stay in the car,” he warns, but he’s not sure it’s even necessary.  Bucky looks borderline catatonic, face pale and eyes closed, head leaned back against the headrest like it’s the only thing holding him up.

Clint is so good at playing the Local Yokel he should get a damn Oscar for it.  He makes small talk with the front desk clerk about the disappointing soybean harvest this year and how fucking often John Deere forces software updates through on the new combines, and gets himself a room with twin beds at the back.  He pulls the car around and chivvies Bucky inside, sitting him down on the bed.

He’s wiping Bucky’s face with a wet washcloth by the time Bucky seems to blink back to awareness.

“There you are,” Clint says matter-of-factly.  “Take that vest off, looks like they got you.”

It was a lucky shot, getting Bucky in the side just below the tac vest, but it’s a through-and-through.  He stares stoically into space while Clint disinfects it with his kit, but it’s already healing.  He disinfects and wraps Bucky’s right hand too.  Where his palm was shredded from the metal of the chair new lines of pink skin are already starting to form.

“I’m gonna hit the shower,” Clint says, but Bucky catches him by his right arm.

“You now,” he says, his voice sounding rusty, and Clint realizes he’s still bleeding sluggishly from that gash across his left forearm.

He is able to disinfect it himself, but when he tries to apply the bandages Bucky makes an impatient noise low in his throat and takes over, carefully using butterfly bandages to close the wound and then covering the whole thing with a waterproof adhesive dressing.  

The attention is making Clint feel a little uncomfortable, but Bucky seems more with it than he’s been since they left the facility, and if having something to do helps him pull himself together a little then Clint guesses he can oblige.

The shower feels amazing, even if Clint is a little edgy without his aids in, taking it on faith that Bucky isn’t going to take the car and ditch him.  When he gets out, dressed in sweats and toweling his hair dry, Bucky’s still sitting right where he left him.

“Go ahead,” Clint says, nodding toward the shower.  “Water’s still hot, and we gotta wait at least six hours to make sure we don’t get caught in a roadblock.”

Bucky stares in the direction of the bathroom and blinks a few times.  “I didn’t bring clothes,” he says.  

Clint has the uncomfortable realization that Bucky might never have even needed a change of clothes post-mission.  Maybe they just put him back in cryo covered in blood and hosed him down later.

“You can wear some ‘a mine.  Sweats should fit,” Clint says.  He finds himself digging through his bag for the softest sweats and hoodie.  

___________

Bucky comes out of the steamy bathroom looking strangely adorable swallowed up by Clint’s clothes.  He’s still pulling on the hoodie and Clint can see he’s actually kind of lean.  He looked and walked like a tank in that D.C. footage, so he’s either lost a lot of muscle mass since then or he was heavily armored up at the time.  Maybe both.

Clint realizes he’s staring, and glances away.

“I’m gonna catch some sleep.  You can too, if you want.  I’ve got Jarvis scanning all the police frequencies.  He’ll alert us if someone’s headed this way.”

Bucky nods.  He sits on the other bed, facing Clint.  He doesn’t lie down or get under the covers, though.  Just sits there, and finally Clint shrugs.  He gets in bed, setting his phone alerts to vibrate and putting it under the pillow.  Then he turns toward the wall and tries to go to sleep, feeling Bucky’s eyes staring a hole in his back.

___________

Clint’s not sure what wakes him up.  He pulls the phone out and squints at it, but it’s clear of alerts.  He puts one aid in, turning toward the other bed.

He can just make out Bucky’s silhouette.  He’s still just sitting there — back straight, feet on the floor, facing Clint.  Fuck, does he actually sleep like that, like a deactivated robot?  Does he even sleep at all?

“Bucky?” Clint says cautiously.  

Bucky seems to tip backwards a little, and then suddenly he’s jolting upright, gasping for air as if he’s been drowning and just finally managed to break the surface.

Clint turns the light on.  Bucky’s shivering, his hair wet with sweat, his eyes wide, and — fuck.  How a 100-year-old Soviet murderbot can manage to look like a pathetic drowned kitten is nothing short of amazing, and Clint can’t stop himself.

“Hey,” he says.  “It’s okay.  You’re okay.”  He moves cautiously until he’s sitting next to Bucky.  He tentatively puts a hand on Bucky’s arm, and then when Bucky leans into it he wraps it around his shoulders.  

“Clint?” Bucky says, all confused-sounding, and Clint has the bizarre realization that this is the first time he’s ever heard Bucky say his name.

“Yeah, it’s me.  I’m here.”

Bucky makes a low, wet noise, and then suddenly he’s huddled into Clint’s side, clinging for dear life.  

“I thought I was in the chair again,” he whispers hoarsely.  “I thought they got me.”

“Hey.  No.”  And Clint knows this feeling — God, he knows this feeling all too well.  It feels like Bucky is digging up with ragged fingernails everything Clint has buried in his chest and hoped never to remember.  “That’s never gonna happen.”

“It could.”  Bucky pulls in a shuddering breath.  “There’s more of ‘em.  I don’t know where, but I know that there are.”

“Hey.”  Clint cups Barnes’ jaw, forcing his head up to meet his eyes.  “Then we’ll take out every single one of ‘em, just like we did today.”  He sees that it’s not enough.  

It feels like cutting his own chest open, but he forces himself to say it.  “They tell you what happened to me?”  

Bucky looks confused for a moment, but then realization lights his eyes.  Maybe he hadn’t remembered until now, but someone must have briefed him.  

Clint pulls in a deep, shuddering breath and says the one thing he took comfort in himself, after Loki.

“Worse comes to worst I’ll put an exploding arrow through your eye socket before I let them use you like that again.  I promise.”

Barnes shivers again, and some of the tension seems to melt from his body.

“Yeah?”

Clint nods.  

“Okay,” Barnes says.  

He seems to be embarrassed now as the panic fades, pulling away from Clint’s side.  “Okay,” he says again, voice like gravel.  He nods, as if trying to convince himself, and drags his body upright.

“You wanna try to get some more rest?” Clint asks.

Bucky shakes his head.

Clint checks the time and shrugs.  “Roadblocks should be lifted by now, and we got a long drive.  Let’s get some coffee.”

_________________

Bucky is staring out the window again.  Clint has tried setting the radio to the most atrocious radio stations he can find, but he’s getting no reaction at all.  It’s not that weird blankness that Bucky had when he got out of the facility, though.  He just looks pensive.

“Do you know me well enough to ask again?” Bucky finally says.

Clint turns down the radio station — is that a fucking mariachi band? — and shoots Bucky a sidelong glance.  “Ask what?”

“Why you came with me?”

“Oh.”  Clint drums his fingers on the steering wheel.  “Well, I’ve been calling you Bucky in my head instead of Barnes since we got out of that place, and I did promise to kill you.  I don’t know if that makes us BFFs, but it’s probably enough.”

Bucky snorts, but his eyes are searching as he waits.

Clint wonders how much he’s gonna piss him off.  But, he did ask for the truth.

“I watch people.  Like, nothin’ personal, it’s just a thing.  Since I was a kid, maybe.  So I been watchin’ you since you got to the Tower.  You come to breakfast, you eat whatever’s on the table.  You sit in the lounge, you watch whatever’s already on t.v.  Hell, you drink hot chocolate with Sam, coffee with me, and that horrible apple tea that no one else could ever possibly like with Wanda.”

Bucky’s eyebrows have been drawing down as Clint’s been talking, like he knows where this is going.

“So?” he asks anyway.

“So....in six weeks, I’ve never seen you make a single choice.  Never seen you ask for anything for yourself.  Figured whatever had you choosing now must be pretty important.  ‘Specially if you couldn’t even wait for Cap.”

Bucky swallows thickly, and looks out the window again for a while.  “It was,” he finally says.

“Yeah.”

_______________

They’re quiet for a long while.

“Not like I’m gonna get many choices where I’m goin’, anyway,” Bucky says eventually.  His voice is just...resigned.

“Whaddaya mean?”

Bucky shrugs.  “The Raft.  Back in cryo.  Wherever they’re gonna put me for leavin’ the Tower like that.”

“What?”  Clint takes his eyes off the road to check, but Bucky’s serious.

Clint shakes his head.  “I thought you were supposed to be smart,” he says.  “Don’t tell me I read the conditions of your release better than you did.”

“What?”

“It’s not that you’re not allowed out of the Tower.  You’re just not allowed out of the Tower unless accompanied by an Avenger.  Guess Steve put that in there, was probably planning some field trips once you had settled in.  And as luck would have it, you happen to have had a certified Avenger, right here in the car with you the whole time.”

The look on Bucky’s face is priceless.

“Really?”

“Am I really an Avenger?  Surprising, I know, but yes I am.  Nobody ever remembers the tallest Avenger.”

“Cut it out,” Bucky growls.  “Does it really say that?”

“Sure does.”  Clint can’t help his grin.  “So there you are, a world of choices, stretching out in front of you.  And on that note, I’m gonna hit up a McDonalds.  Have you ever had those apple-pie-in-a-cardboard-tube things they have there?  Those things are amazing.”

Bucky’s face does something weird and complicated.  Clint waits it out.

“I’d rather have a milkshake,” he finally says, and...aw.  Clint tries to ignore the little warm feeling that causes in his chest.

“An’ I’m pickin’ the radio station,” Bucky says, reaching across the console.

Clint blocks him, and ends up just tangling their fingers together.  He gives Bucky’s hand a little squeeze, and Bucky squeezes back.

“Don’t push your luck.”

[poke-trainer-tsuki]

Pokémon Headcanon Meme from @memeingovermemes

Hi there! My name’s Tsuki and I’m from Kalos! I figured I would just answer all of these as my introduction to you all!

☀️ : Who is your character’s partner Pokémon? Do they prefer to stay outside of their Pokéball? What’s their dynamic with their trainer?

Back home, my partner was (and still is) Pumpkaboo! When I was around 9, my mother and I were taking a walk and came across a lone Pumpkaboo on our normal route in the local forest. I got so excited and my mother helped me catch her and ever since, we have been best friends! She is shy like me and really only likes to stay out of her Pokéball when we are at home or somewhere familiar to her. She’s EXTREMELY sweet, but very protective of me since we’ve been together for what feels like forever.

🌗 : Does your character have a favourite Pokéball? Which ones do they use the least?

My favorite Pokéball would have to be the Moon ball. I remember the first time I ever saw one, and immediately fell in love. Space has always been super interesting to me and seeing a ball with the moon on it, just made me so happy and excited. I once tried to be slick and try to catch an Umbreon in a Moon ball. I learned VERY quickly that it wasn’t going to work. I still managed to catch the Umbreon that day though so I wasn’t too sad. The ball I use least is probably the Luxury ball or the apricorn balls. Ones super expensive and the others are SUPER rare.

💾 : What is your character’s Pokémon team? Any Pokémon they don’t  have currently in their team (in their PC Box or elswhere)?

As of right now while traveling through the Galar region, my team consists of, a “Gigantamax” (I think that’s what they called it) Corviknight, My Pumpkaboo, Cinderace, Silvally (Whom I caught as Type Null while traveling through Alola), Flapple, and Zacian. I think back home I caught maybe only 50 Kalos originating Pokémon and MAYBE 40 Alolan Pokémon. In Galar, I have completed my Pokédex and then some!

😀 : Describe one of your character’s relationships with their Pokémon.

My relationship with my Pumpkaboo has such a different dynamic than my other Pokémon. She’s basically my sister at this point and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I remember when I was little, I was extremely afraid of the dark and honestly I still kind of am, but she would act as my nightlight and make sure nothing scared me at night. Most people think that all ghost Pokémon give you nightmares, and while some do, she has never done that to me.

👥 : Does your character travel with anyone aside from their Pokémon?

So far during my time in Galar, I’ve been traveling alongside my friend “Panda”! He’s learning as much as he can so he can officially be a professor one day so any time I have a question, he’s right there to answer to the best of his ability! Right now, he’s teaching me the ins and outs of putting together a great competitive team.

♠️ : Does your character specialize in a Pokémon type or do their types vary? Do they pay much attention to type match-ups?

I don’t really specialize in any certain type of Pokémon. Though I do prefer having a great speed stat so I am able to move first (unless the opposing trainer uses a priority move). I do my best at remembering type match ups. When Pokémon become dual types is when I have the most trouble though.

🗻 : What type of journey is your character on? Are they tackling the Pokémon League, engaging in contests, on researching endeavors, a ranger scouting for danger? Or do they have a more ‘normal’ occupation? What type of life do they lead?

I recently decided to take part in the Galar Gym Challenge. I am definitely nervous doing these challenges, but I’ve been learning so much from each and every gym leader here! Back home, I was more of a breeder/groomer in my spare time.

🌟: Has your character met any Legendary Pokémon before? If so, what were the encounters like? Do they have any Legendary Pokémon on their team? If not, do they believe in Legendary Pokémon?

I have only met two Legendary Pokémon so far. In Alola, it was Type Null whom I managed to evolve into Silvally while in Galar, and Zacian in Galar. Both encounters were extremely scary and nerve wracking to me. It took so much patience and effort to get Type Null to trust me back then, but I don’t regret it one bit. Even now, there are days where he has his moments of distrust, but I always manage to calm him down and remind him that I’m not here to hurt him. He prefers to sleep near me at night as well just like Pumpkaboo does and honestly I wouldn’t have it any other way. Zacian on the other hand acts like a guard dog at night and if something is wrong he alerts Silvally before waking me up. It’s definitely a weight off my mothers shoulders knowing I’m being protected so well though.

🍼 : Are there any Pokémon your character has difficulty handling? Are there any they find easiest to raise?

Right now, Silvally has been a little hardheaded and doesn’t listen to me sometimes. He hasn’t really been aggressive or anything, but I might have to take him to a professor to get him checked out because I’m worried something’s wrong. As much as I love Nurse Joy, I don’t think she has the knowledge on him in that regard.

🐤 : Does your character use Daycares? Or do they manage all the training and caretaking themselves?

I do my absolute best to take care of my Pokémon myself. I also prefer to oversee my Pokémon when it’s mating season as well. You learn a lot about them when you’re the one in charge and I love learning!

🕶 : Are there ‘troublemaking’ Pokémon on your character’s team? If so, how do they tackle these troubles?

I don’t think I’ve ever really had a troublemaker on my team except MAYBE Mimikyu when he’s having a bad day. But usually when that happens, I take him out for some “alone time” with me and I treat him to special poké-treats and playtime.

🥘 : Is your character any good at making Poffins?

I’d say I’m pretty good at it! Definitely not the best, but my Pokémon seem to enjoy the ones I make!

🎊 : If your character takes part in contests, what category is their favourite? What are the best at? What are they worst at?

Oh gosh. I’ve tried my hand at contests...they definitely aren’t for me. I’ll just keep to making Poké-treats and grooming my Pokémon.

📱 : How full is your character’s Pokedex?

I haven’t completed my Kalos dex, nor my Alolan dex as of yet. However Galar was the first dex I was able to complete with the help of my friend whom I call “Panda”.

✨ : Has your character ever encountered a shiny Pokémon ? Do they have one in their team?

Funny enough, my Pumpkaboo that my mother helped me catch whom I brought to Galar with me, was shiny! I remember asking my mother why she was purple instead of orange like the ones I saw in my textbooks from school, and she explained to me that my Pumpkaboo was rare and super special. Recently in Galar, I encountered and caught a shiny magikarp in this instance event they called a “raid”. I was able to get him to evolve into Gyarados and to be blunt, I think I prefer his shiny form over his natural colors!

🎲 : Has your character ever been to a Game Corner or equivalent? How much time do they spend there? Have they ever gotten really lucky at the slots?

I’ve been MAYBE a handful of times with Panda, but I usually don’t spend a lot of pokédollars. I’m never lucky when it comes to playing games like Panda is, so I just end up watching him play and cheer him on.

🌑 : How does your character handle villainous organizations? Have they ever encountered one? How did that go?

Back home, I was utterly terrified with my first ever run in with Team Flare. I’ve always been super shy and take things to heart too much. By god when I had to battle Lysandre, I thought I was going to faint, that’s how intimidating he was to me. But as I continued to travel, I learned new ways to cope and now in Galar, I’m not so scared. Team Yell for sure isn’t as intimidating as Team Flare back home as of yet.

��️ : Has your character ever mistaken an owned Pokémon for a wild Pokemon and tried to catch it?

I probably have when I was a tiny child, but as I’ve been older to understand really how catching Pokémon works, I have never mistaken one for a wild Pokémon. Thankfully.

🚴: Does your character own a bicycle? Can they ride it? Are they constantly lectured by their professors for riding it where they’re not supposed to?

I do have one! I obtained one a little into my journey in Galar! It’s super cool! It has a Rotom inside it to help me go faster and ride across water! I haven’t been lectured about riding it though. Now back home however, I had a pair of roller blades and my professors would CONSTANTLY have to remind me to take them off when going inside anywhere because I would always forget I’d be wearing them.

🎣  : Does your character fish? Do they have any luck with it? If so, what’s the biggest Pokémon they’ve caught? What’s the smallest?

I do here and there. Most of the time I don’t really find anything exciting. The biggest thing I’ve found was a Luvdisc in Alola and the smallest was a Wishiwashi in Galar.

🎃 : Do any Pokémon types unsettle your character? Do they have a phobia of them? Why?

Oh my gosh! I have such a phobia of bug type Pokémon! I had a scary run in with a spinarak a good few years ago and have had the phobia since. I’ve never liked bugs to begin with though so this bad experience just made it worse.

📖 : Did your character go to Pokémon School? If so, was it public or private? Were they homeschooled?

I did! I went to a public school as my parents were never gifted with the kind of money needed to send me to a private school. Though, I met Panda YEARS after I finished school through another friend of mine. As a child I absolutely hated school, but as I grew older, I became so much more interested in learning about Pokémon that I grew to enjoy it more and more as the years passed.

I hope you all were able to get to know me a little better and I hope I can learn more things from new people soon! Feel free to send me asks as I’ll answer them as best as I can!

[foxgirlintestines]

Misprints: Miscuts and NFCs

So, since the sheets of WAR have been distributed widely and chop jobs have been done putting a lot of cards with “defects” on the market I should warn people about the misprint market. I am a whore for cool cards, so I have some experience in this field, though there are many people who specialize in this field of Magic and can tell you even more. First, terminology; NFC stands for not factory cut. This is an important distinction as misprinted cards carry a premium for collectors of oddities, but NFCs are manufactured miscuts, and therefore are not an authetic rarity produced by WotC’s printers. The difference in value can be astronomical, a rarity made by WotC fucking up is pretty uncommon, while a fair percentage of sheets that are distributed through GPs (or Magic Fests) and so on are turned into these NFCs. Thats not to say NFCs are worthless, they are usually valued much higher than a normal card based on the rarity of the sheet. These War of the Spark sheets were mass distributed and still offered in prize walls, therefore these particular NFCs have a very low premium. Something like an original Zendikar, Innistrad, or other sheets from that era were not quite as easy to obtain and therefore gettign a unique NFC for your collection will carry a high premium especially for the chase cards.

How can you tell?

There are several ways to determine the authenticity of the misprint. Mainly it has to do with pedigree. Misprints come from the same sheet that has been processed with an error, real misprints have others of the sheet that can be found and often appear in the same box. Many misprint collectors will go after boxes that have yeilded hits and will take videos to have proof of a card originating from a pack. There are ways to find it out without video proof. NFCs are not cut by the same machine as normal cards. Inspect the borders of the card, normally NFCs no matter how careful you are do not come out with the pristine borders that a pack fresh card has. Additionally, all sheets WotC collects to distribute uncut are rolled up much like the WAR sheets came in the mail. They will have a curve to the card that kind of gives away their history. The next determination of pedigree is knowledge. Not all sheets are out there to cut up. Commander products for example are not distributed as uncut sheets most of the time, and most pre-modern sets did not exist as available sheets, note there are some exceptions including Beta, Unlimited, Antiquities and more. There are many sets like Dominaria that had a lot of quality control issues. I know a ton of non-foil uncommons from Dominaria have The final test is the “if its too good to be true it probably isn’t true.” A misprint that is natural is often only off by a little bit, but when you can align it any way you want to cut it you can go as crazy as you like. Extremely warped and misaligned cuts are almost always NFCs. 

Determining “value” of a miscut.

As a general rule, with any unique item the value of the item is based on how much someone will offer for it. Most of the time misprints are sold in auctions because you can’t really just set a price as often you cannot pinpoint exactly where it falls. In terms of a miscut though there is anopther rule. The more cards present on a card the higher its value (technically you always have parts of other cards, but the black border is often considered to not be part of the next card in terms of counting cards). You can have the parts of six cards showing on a single card, but to my knowledge there has never beena  natural misprint of that severity, I’m not sure if there is even a natural five out there. Most of the time a card will be shifted in one direction and a single other card will be showing. The high premium natural miscuts are cards from a sheet that was twisted. These cards sometimes have warped almost alpha-like corners on some of their edges because the sheet went through everything wrong including the corner cutter. These twists tend to show three cards, but sometimes four and those are heavily sought after. Another thing that adds value is the degree of the shift. The more of another card you can see the more it is worth. Seeing part of and recognizing what the adjacant card is without needing to look up sheet patters is pretty cool, but once again, most natural miscuts are only severe enough to see what color the adjacant card was. The next value increaser is what the adjacant card was. You have a peice of a highly sought after card on your card? Thats pretty cool, but what most misprint collectors like to see is sheet edge. The white or silver in the case of foils that is where the cards end and the extra is supposed to be cut off. You can sometimes find things like the color bars and product information written on the sheet edge, and these unique little tidbits can add a lot of desire for a very unique card. As for NFCs most of these attributes apply in the same way, which incentivises people to cut their sheets in as interesting ways as possible.

Most people in the misprint market are honest about their NFCs, and will straight up tell you in the listing that its a NFC, but with so many new sheets out there there are new sellers who might not be as honest. In the specialty group I acquire most of my oddities from they have pretty strict rules about clarity on NFCs, but still many people might not even know what that stands for at first and end up paying much more based on assumptions on Ebay or someplace like that where contact with the seller is more limited. Just be careful when you are trying to find these unique kinds of cards to make your deck more personalized.

Also, a little disclaimer. As long as a card is recognizeable as one card that you are using it is legal. NFCs can be legal if the cut isn’t too severe, but the final call always comes to the judge. It is the same for alters and so on, check with your judge beforehand, and don’t argue if they disagree. Miscuts should primarily be used for non-sanctioned play as you can’t rely on their legality every time.

Also also, as a bonus here are two miscuts I own:

Sidisi is NFC, Dragons of Tarkir isn’t a common sheet compared to the more recent sets, but its not exactly a super rare sheet either. It is shifted both vertically ond horizontally. Sheet edge is showing on the left side though it is just a sliver, and Dragonlord Ojutai is showing on the top with its power and toughness visible. Basically checking of lots of the “value added” marks, something like this in now way would be natural. Myriad Landscape is a true oddity. Comander Anthologies did not have available sheets. This one is a twisted miscut, but it only is clearly 2 cards with a tiny bit of a 3rd. the top right and bottom left corners are warped a bit (not the best picture to show those off I know) which is the direction of the twist so that checks off as factory damage while the sides and other corners are very clean like any normal card. Its on the higher end of severity for a natural miscut, but there are much more impressive examples out there.

[sangngx]

INTRODUCING... SANG NAMGOONG ||| vale of york hoard

hello, this is sang. they’re very ambivalent about meeting you.

age: twenty-seven

gender & orientation: agender (they/them), pansexual

role: archivist for the ialis museum of history

team: none! we have one (1) impartial person

the vale of york hoard was buried in ad 927 and found undisturbed in 2007, in north yorkshire. the hoard contains a mixture of different precious metal objects, including coins, complete ornaments, ingots (bars) and chopped-up fragments known as hack-silver (67 objects in total and 617 coins). it shows the diversity of cultural contacts in the medieval world, with objects coming from as far apart as afghanistan in the east and ireland in the west, as well as russia, scandinavia and continental europe.

Sang Namgoong was not named with any great intentions though, according to their grandmother, to carry the Namgoong name and not do it with pride is a waste. Sang had pride, but most of their first meetings tended to end in “Mr. Nam- what? I am so sorry” and “please just call me Sang”.

Sang was raised in England, born from korean business moghuls that decided to relocate to Europe back in the 80s. they’re the second child and have three other siblings (one older and two younger) with increasingly bigger age gaps.

one of Sang’s greatest influences was their grandmother, a korean old lady who wore her pride like another layer of her hanbok. she had pride for her family and its history, pride for the traditions and lifestyle that had been passed down for generations. she was extremely traditional and, because of it, extremely wary of change and anyone who’d dare bring it. growing up and until her death, Sang and their siblings would spend every summer under her watch at the Namgoong’s centuries-old family estate back in Seoul. she was the one to start Sang’s interest in history and order.

the Namgoong estate was hundreds of years old and while some of the older parts still remained, it had been remodeled over the years, the main building a modern adaptation of the traditional hanok structure. the old parts were the best spots to stay at if you wanted a shot at winning hide and seek. if you were found by the oldest of the house staff, though, you should be prepared for a sleepless night– the darkest and oldest corners of the estate were ripe with stories of ghosts that still roamed the estate, vestiges of ancestors who had died mysteriously in their homes centuries ago. It was Sang’s favorite thing, to find out about the story of their family and the history that surrounded them.

Sang has always been slow to adapt and reticent to change, a stickler to what was perceived ‘as expected’ and always a reserved person to contrast their sibling’s willingness to overshare. while Lin (their older sister) was the kind of person who’d easily make friends by relating to their experiences and sharing her own, but Sang had a hard time relating to people outside of contexts where they could keep themself slightly removed. Sang was possessive with things they perceived as theirs, keeping them tucked away and hidden so no one would be able to find them unless they were the one to bring them up first. growing up it had been toys and candy, the box of ancient coins their father had gifted them as a child; and later, they coveted the experiences lived outside their family’s caring but watchful eye. sometimes they’d avoid talking about what certain people meant to them, relationships an absolute secret.

unlike grandmother Namgoong’s insistence to pass down her beliefs into her grandchildren, Sang’s parents were never the kind to push a path on their children. but Sang felt like someone had to keep up the legacy their parents were building. so they went to school for Finance (and a double-major in History, at their older sister’s insistence that they had to be someone outside of their family’s legacy) and started working on their parents company as soon as they graduated.

they felt pressured by their name but were happy to be involved in the company, especially as they worked their way to director of finance. when their parents decided to retire, Sang was supposed to step up and take their place but during Sang’s appraisal meeting for the role, the board of directors in the company built a whole case about why Sang might not be "the ideal candidate” to take over their parent’s role.

it was a public execution and part of the 'proof’ (all of it fabricated or completely dependent on irrefutable loopholes) that backed up Sang’s inadequecy was provided by one of Sang’s closest, if not only, friend. to not step down from the CEO position, or even the director position, would have been embarrassing at that point. so Sang left, ashamed, and didn’t tell anyone outside of their sister what had really happened (a part of them suspected that their parents knew what was going on but the fact that they might know and decide not to bring it up is perhaps worse than a direct confrontation).

ialis island

Sang painted their sudden departure and distance from the family as a change of career. they sold their luxury apartment in London and moved further North to start a postgraduate program in Archival Science that’ll complement their History degree. if it was so hard to maintain any structure in their life, they might as well use their knowledge to keep important things in order.

this is how their connection to Ialis island starts: a professor, incredibly worldly but not quite right in the head because of it, took a liking to Sang and their tidy nature and no-nonsense attitude. he constantly talked about Ialis island and the impressiveness of its landscape and its mysterious history. Sang had never been superstitious, but they had respect for the warnings that came from tales of old wizened men. that respect is what made Professor Addair recommend Sang for an internship at the Ialis Museum of History one summer.

one summer of the history and myths surrounding the island was enough to make Sang want to come back as soon as their masters was done. they obtained a permanent job as an archivist in the museum, a position sorely needed in a place were most systems were outdated or relied heavily in analogue mediums. but to be an outsider trying to immerse themselves in the island’s history made them no friends at Ialis. it served Sang well enough, though. it’s easier to keep walls intact when no one comes knocking.

the dig is something that they regard with mild curiosity and intense skepticism. it has taken Sang well over a year to organize most of the information in the museum but there were gaps in the history that were hard to get simply by looking through hundreds and hundreds of archived papers. the two groups of outsiders bidding to find hidden treasure wouldn’t be worth noting if it weren’t for the people attached to it. the name Cambra was talked about enough in England and elsewhere that not making note of it in your book was a mistake. and Taha was a name Sang had stumbled upon more than once while going through files on the island’s history. Sang personally didn’t know any of the men, or the specifics of their business, and neither did they trust any of the teams intentions towards the island. Sang was mistrustful and, in their sister’s words, “possessive of every little detail you discover about that tiny island in the middle of nowhere”.

but when the time came for them to ask for help from the museum’s archivist (which any research team worth their salt would definitely try to get), Sang’s own curiosity would override their mistrust. also, they were probably contractually obliged to provide their service under the name of the museum, but that was just a tiny detail.

if you made it to the end of this: wow, you are brave. no plotting section because this is already too long but I’m open to any and all plots, let’s talk!!

[dailyaudiobible]

02/07/2019 DAB Transcript

Exodus 26:1-27:21, Matthew 25:1-30, Psalms 31:1-8, Proverbs 8:1-11

Today is the 7th day of the month of February. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian and every day we come together like this and every day it's a pleasure to be in your presence and have this time to take the next step forward in our adventure through the Scriptures. And our current adventure leads us back into the book of Exodus where an entire culture is being built up from scratch. We’re reading from the Amplified Bible this week. Exodus chapter 26 and 27.

Commentary:

Okay. So, in the gospel of Matthew for the last couple days we've been talking about the end times because that's what Jesus is talking about. And, so, we’ve been kind of moving our way through that. We touched on apocalyptic worldview and the fact that Jesus tells us that when these things do begin to happen the way that we are supposed to look at them is to understand that this is birthing pains and it will give birth to all things being made new again. And we were also counsel not to basically live in panic mode. Actually, we’re supposed to live opposite of panic mode. We’re supposed to be aware and vigilant and perceptive and see what's going on. And as for dating the end of the world, as we’re like trying to figure that out, is it is a going to be 2019, is going to be 2029, will be 2129? As for that, Jesus basically puts an end to it by saying, “nobody knows, nobody but the Father.” So, that’s some of the territory that we’ve navigated through and Jesus is continuing that conversation in today's reading by using a couple of stories, parables, that are designed to illustrate what he's talking about and also what the kingdom of God is like. And these parables they basically seal the deal in showing us that our posture for the kingdom of heaven should be no different than the posture toward the end of days. So, in the first story Jesus told the parable of the 10 bridesmaids who went to a wedding feast and the bridegroom hadn’t arrived yet, so the women had to wait. And as they waited the differences between them were revealed. Half of them were ready. Half of them had been vigilant. Half of them had been aware and they brought extra oil for their lamps while the other half didn't. And when the oil ran out the unprepared bridesmaids had to go in search of more but while they were gone the bridegroom arrived. So, those who were prepared, who had been vigilant, who understood what was going on were allowed into the celebration and those who were not missed out on it. And then in the second story Jesus told of a master who was planning to go away for a while and he provided resources to three of his servants with an understanding that they would steward those resources while he was gone. And, so, he went and then he came back and when he returned he asked for an accounting and two of the servants had doubled what they’d been given, right? So, they were vigilant and they were aware and astute and wise and they received very encouraging words from the master, “well done my good and faithful servant”, because those servants had taken a risk and they put the resources to good and profitable use. And, so, he invited them. “You’ve been faithful in handling small things and now I'm gonna give you…I’m gonna let you handle larger things. Come in and let's celebrate.” Oh…but there was the third…the third of the three. And that servant was fearful. And, so, he took what he’d been given, and he hid it in the ground. So, he didn’t lose anything, but he didn't gain anything, and he didn't risk anything. Like, even if he had risked and lost that would be an attempt but he buried in the ground and the master didn’t respond as favorably to him. He says, “to those who use well what they’re given then even more will be given and they'll have an abundance but for those who do nothing, even what little they have will be taken away.” So, as we’re kind of rounding the bend on this discourse about the end times, from the lips of the master we’re reminded that we really don't have another choice but to stay prepared and aware. And we don't really have another choice but to be vigilant because everything that we have has been given to us to steward on behalf of the master. And it doesn't matter how much or how little we have, we’re to use whatever we have. And this isn’t just about dollars, right, or Euro’s or whatever the currency is in your country. This isn’t about money. This is about everything. We’ve got to get our minds around this. As we move forward into the message of Jesus, we are going to come face-to-face with the stark reality that this is all or nothing. So, it doesn't matter what we have, and it doesn't matter if we don't feel prepared or that we don't have enough. We’re to use what we have whether it's our time or our talent or our money in the service of the master. He will provide more if we steward what we are given well, which is summed up pretty nicely in our reading from Proverbs today. “Take my instruction rather than seeking silver and take knowledge rather than choicest gold for wisdom is better than rubies, and all desirable things cannot compare with her.” And we talked about wisdom on a number of occasions already this year and it won’t be the last time because we're not going to get anywhere if we don't make it the goal to achieve wisdom over anything else and understand that if we are wise there’s not much we cannot achieve. And one of the things we must achieve through wisdom is this preparedness, this vigilance, this awareness of what is going on that Jesus is speaking about in the gospel of Matthew today.

Prayer:

Father, we acknowledge that we have a role to play in this, that we must seek wisdom, and actually that it must be something that we seek and try to attain more than any other thing that we’re trying to achieve or obtain. So, we realize we have to do our part by opening our eyes and seeking out wisdom; however, we also understand that we won't know how to implement wisdom into our lives without Your Holy Spirit. And, so, we'll do our part because You have commanded that we do our part, You’ve told us that getting wisdom is going to alter the trajectory of our lives in a good way. And, so, we heed that and we seek it and we invite Your Holy Spirit to lead us to it. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In Jesus’ name we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, its home base, of course, where you find out what’s going on around here. So, be sure to stay connected.

The Daily Audio Bible shop is there, the Prayer Wall is there, all of the links to the different social media channels, including DAB Friends where constant conversation is happening is there in the community section and in the Community section are also the links to the transcripts from the Daily Audio Bible. So, if you ever want to back and read maybe something that got said here you can go back and do that. The links for that are in the community section at dailyaudiobible.com. And much thanks and shout outs to our volunteers who make that happen every day. And of course, the Prayer Wall and other Daily Audio Bible Shop and all that kind of stuff are accessible in the Daily Audio Bible app as well by pressing the little drawer icon in the upper left-hand corner.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There’s a link that lives on the homepage. If you're using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or comment, 877-942-4253 is the number to dial.

And that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi everyone, this is Steph calling from Canada, now from Texas. I called in a moment of desperation about two weeks ago regarding my immigration situation and I have a praise report to say that the day that my prayer request was played my visa arrived in the mail. And not only that, but also, I was waiting on an import permit from the USDA for my pet Hedgehog and that came on the 17th as well. And, so, I just wanted to just give glory to God. I am so grateful. I didn’t even…I delayed my calling in because I was just…I felt like no words I could say could express my thankfulness for what the Lord has done for me. And I just want to say thank you to everyone that prayed for me. I heard every request. And you know when I was driving down through the states to Texas I heard some people calling in and praying for me and I just thank and you so much for that and just want to give all glory and honor to God because this would’ve never happened without a supernatural move of God because there’s nothing wrong with my case but it was just stuck __ and some of my documents were about to expire. And they were saying it might take up to eight weeks to review your stuff and within five days I had my visa and now a legal permanent resident of America. So, I just want to say thank you and all glory to God and I just thank you for this community for praying for me because I know without a doubt in my mind that it’s truly…it was Jesus that made this happen. Thank you so much.

Howdy DAB family, this is Darren from College Station Texas and I’m just calling to seek…seek the prayer of my family to raise up intercession for my wife and my family and for all marriages, especially for marriages that are unequally yoked. My wife is not a follower of Jesus and I’m just done with the spirit of division that plagues my marriage and any marriage of the family that’s unequally yoked. I’m done with the spirit of accusation. I’m done with the spirit of deceit and lies. And I ask my family to raise up prayer and intercession for my wife, Lynne, for myself and for all marriages that are unequally yoked. Holy Spirit let Your kingdom come and Your will be done in marriages. Speak truth to our hearts and speak truth to the hearts of our spouses. Call out to them in Jesus’ name. Bind up the spirit of division, the spirit of accusation, the spirit of bitterness, the spirit of resentment and bring forth Your spirit of love and compassion and hope. And just call out to our spouses Lord. Bring them to You. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen. Please pray that with me often. Thank you, family.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible family, this is Debbie in Des Moines. Two things. One, praise report, I received word yesterday that a job that had interviewed for, they extended me an offer so now I get to go do the background check. So, I just I figured I would be without a job the next few months but God has put my feet on another path with another company and I just give Him the praise because, believe me, I don’t interview well. I mean, I don’t…I don’t speak well, I don’t interview well at all. I always say, “I’m kind of a dork.” So, that’s all God. Believe me, it’s all God. I was not cool or slick in an interview, it’s all God. Second thing is, I was listening to the prayer line and I hear talk of loneliness and not connecting with people. I myself am a huge introvert and very happy inside my own head by myself with it. I don’t reach out to people well and I don’t connect with people well but part of this is my choice. So, I would say, go out and volunteer, go to a church if you’re not in a church. I __ to volunteer, take that step forward and for me taking that step forward to connect with anybody is difficult. I’m the one in the back sitting in the pew up in the balcony as far away from people as I can. But, I’m still with my church family. So, take that step forward, it will make you feel much better and you’ll start to feel connected. But I do understand that. But anyways, I love you all. Have a great weekend. Bye.

This is Kenny Mills from Louisiana and I’ve called to pray for Tyler in Canada that called. He is a quad for 14 years of C23 and I am also a quad in Louisiana with C67. And, so, yeah, I felt his pain whenever he was calling and going to a procedure and for his infections and stuff. And I know what he’s going through. You know, we all have infections. And, so, I was just wanting to call and lift him up. So, thank You dear heavenly Father for being with him at all times and always knowing that Your around us dear Lord and forgive us a lot of times for just our lack of confidence sometimes dear Lord and that we all have weak periods and that You will…that the doctors hands will be guided in this surgery and he will come through with complete healing dear Lord. And, so, we just lift him up to You and put him in Your hands and we know that You will guide…guide the doctor’s hands and things will go good. We love You and we thank You, and we give You all the praise. Amen.

[inthepantheon]

Answers, Part III

My body aches.  I pop six painkillers into a glass of water and watch them fizz aggressively. I never thought I would need mortal medicine, but they seem to work. If I take enough… Worse than the pain, though, is the huge sense of loss that follows me around like a second shadow. The hind’s blood Alastor, the Avenger, infected me with, has robbed me of my abilities. What am I without my abilities? I’m neither god nor mortal. I’m just a...a...I don’t know anymore. The humiliation is unbearable. No-one can know. I would never live it down. Prometheus: the Titan who lost his gifts. The so-called God of Forethought who couldn’t foretell his own downfall. I would be the laughingstock of the God Complex, a source of constant ridicule. Or worse, pity. I down the water and rest my head in my hands. Argos places his chin on my lap, looking up at me sympathetically with his multi-colored eyes. I stroke his ears, and he slowly wags his tail. Come on, Pro, snap out of it! He seems to urge. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he can tell that something is wrong. After Alastor left me on top of Mount Caucasus, I was angry. I swore that I would have my vengeance, that I would make him suffer, but then a sense of reality kicked in. He had outwitted me at every opportunity, and that was when I had my abilities. Now I have to face him weaponless, what chance do I have? Disbelief and the need to rationalize followed: he couldn’t have obtained hind’s blood. It was virtually impossible...the effects would wear off soon...I had embellished the events in my mind. No. It was real enough, and realization paved the way for an overwhelming sense of sadness over the pathetic god I had become. It felt like I was grieving for a lost friend, and my self-loathing paralyzed me. I couldn’t think, I could barely move. I had lost all motivation and couldn’t see the point of going on. After a few days, the sadness waned, and I knew that I couldn’t continue in such a sorrowful state. Now I just feel hollow. I’m adrift, and I desperately need some wind in my sails to get me going. I need to look forward rather than back, but every time I try, I stare into a mirror. I bang my fist on the table in frustration, and Argos walks away, sensing my mood. I didn’t mean to frighten him. He’s the only thing keeping me together. “Sorry, boy,” I mutter and grab a pile of papers in front of me. I have work to do. And a lot of it. Demeter went missing a while ago. I’m not the only one with problems. That thought provides a crumb of comfort, although I worry for her. I always liked Demeter, and I hope it’s nothing serious. Anyway, her role as Legal Counsel to the OA has filtered through to me. Temporarily, at least. It’s not a position I wish to hold on to, but needs must, I suppose. It would seem that she was fighting a lot of fires at the point she went missing. Now I’m getting all of her emails, so I busy myself trying to get on top of it. It’s a much-needed distraction. And then an email lands for her.  It seems trivial, and usually, I would skip straight past it, but something about it catches my eye. I re-read it a few times. Demeter requested some searches on someone named Eric Draven, but they have come back blank. There is an apology for the delay; she made the request a few months ago, and it’s been forgotten. Eric Draven. Where do I know that name? I carry on with some work and allow my subconscious to get the answer for me from the depths of my mind. The Crow. It’s a film from the nineties with Brandon Lee as the lead. He was shot for real during the filming, and he died from his injuries. He plays a character called Eric Draven, who is brought back to life to avenge the murder of his fiance and himself. I watched it not so long ago, which is why the name seemed familiar. Now I’m intrigued. Why was Demeter undertaking searches on someone named Eric Draven? I look at the date the request was sent and then dig into Demeter’s calendar to see what she was doing on or around that time. There’s nothing that looks relevant, so I check her account. I discover an email chain dated a few days before the request was sent from e.draven@dravenproperties.com. It’s not a particularly interesting read. The emails tell me that Eric had an unstated proposition he wanted to make in relation to the God Complex, and he wanted to arrange a meeting with Demeter to discuss it. Demeter requested further information, and he pushed back to say it would be in her interest to meet up with him. He confirms his name and the name of his company - Draven Properties. Demeter then agreed to meet him, but there is no correspondence after that. I look at the filing system to see if there are any records of the meeting and find a file note. Demeter was certainly thorough.  Attendance with Eric Draven I agreed to meet with Mr. Draven today to discuss a ‘proposition’ he had. He was quite insistent. He came to the office with three files and said that he had a proposal in relation to expanding the building. Mr. Draven then started to cough. When the cough turned violent, I went to get some water, but on my return, he had recovered. He then asked if we could postpone the meeting to a later date as he was not feeling well. I said that I saw no reason he could not send details about the proposal by email in the first instance, and he agreed. As an aside, I have undertaken some preliminary searches on Eric Draven and the company ‘Draven Properties’ but could not find anything other than a holding website for the company. As far as I can see, there are no companies registered with that name. I have paid for some additional searches to be undertaken as the entire event was rather peculiar. I will wait to see what comes back. D.       I know that Demeter will have undertaken rigorous searches, but nevertheless, I search for the company and ‘Eric Draven’ and find nothing other than the holding page she mentioned. The company doesn’t exist, so whatever ‘Eric’ came in for wasn’t bona fide, to use a legal phrase.  Then I search for the owner of the domain name. Often such results are hidden, it’s seen as necessary to protect the user’s privacy, but it seems I’ve gotten lucky because they must not have ticked the right box. The owner’s name is listed as Eric Draven, but the associated email address is a_a_avenger781@gmail.com. A shiver goes down my spine. The domain name must have been purchased before the website with its new email address was created, and so it was registered using Eric’s old email address. Could a_a_avenger781@gmail.com be him? Is that how he found all that information about me? From Demeter’s office? My personal file would be in there with my number, my address, and everything OA had gathered on me over the years. It would explain how he knew so much, how he was able to stay one step ahead. Knowledge is power.  I undertake some searches of the new email address and play about with the parameters on the search engine. It seems a_a_avenger781@gmail.com has been quite vocal on dozens of forums using the username The Crow, but he reveals no information about himself. All the forums relate to discussions and conspiracy theories on murders and violence from all around the world. I follow the trail to a message thread from several years ago. In it, a user, Falcon101 complains about her husband cheating on her with her best friend. The Crow responds by promoting a website where she can pay for retribution. The Crow claims to have used the site himself and was very satisfied with the result. Falcon101 is interested, and The Crow provides some instructions. I follow them. But this isn’t the sort of site you can find on a normal browser. For this, I’m going to need something called Tor, because I will need to enter the dark web. A place where you can’t find anything by searching. A place where people can hide in the shadows and avoid detection.  I take a deep breath. I’ve looked at the rabbit hole, and now I need to venture down it. I download the software and continue with the instructions. This is it.  A website called The Avenger. This is where Alastor sells his services.  It must be.  I scroll through what’s on offer, and it makes me feel sick. There’s stuff on there that would have you screaming for Freddy Krueger to come back. It promotes everything from mind tricks to violent death, each with a price in Bitcoin next to it. There are even reviews. All of them 5*. I look through the site and place violent death in the cart. It then asks me for details: who, when, where, why, how. There are some suggestions for the how that makes my blood curdle. I make up some false information, and then it asks for 30 Bitcoins upfront. The final payment of 40 Bitcoins is payable once the act is completed. That’s a lot of money, like hundreds of thousands of dollars. I was hoping to find a connection I could work with, but all I’ve done is make myself feel sick. There’s a box to tick to say that you have accepted the terms and conditions. What on earth could be in the terms and conditions?  I click on them out of curiosity. They are surprisingly well written and explain what happens if you are dissatisfied with the service or wish to cancel an order like you’re buying socks or something. And then I spot something. A common mistake when terms are copied. The small print towards the end of the terms has not been amended, and they refer to a company called A. A. Construction. It’s in the text lawyers would call boilerplate. The text everyone glosses over. The text no-one cares about. The terms must have been drafted for A. A. Construction and then bastardized for this site, but whoever changed them forgot to edit the boilerplate. They probably got bored.    I close the dark web and return to my normal browser. I feel like I need a shower after that, but I’m excited. I have a lead. I run a search for A. A. Construction and find that it exists. It’s a construction company incorporated a few years ago, and it has one shareholder: Alex Arnold. I look at the company details and discover that it has a large portfolio of properties. Alex Arnold’s address is listed on the records as the company’s registered address, which is not uncommon. But it is not particularly helpful.  I look instead at the original incorporation document for the company, available for a small fee, and I hit the jackpot. I have Alex Arnold’s personal address, and it’s a penthouse in the affluent side of town. I know the location well, I’ve walked past it many times and stared up at the flats with their Juliet balconies and wondered what they were like inside. I search the company’s website to look for an image of Alex Arnold, but there is nothing. I carry out some image searches on Google, but it comes up with soccer players and actors. I try one last search using Alex Arnold’s name, the name of the company, and the name of a charity event that is mentioned on the website.  An image pops up of a newspaper article.  I click on it and zoom in. There are a lot of people in the picture, but in the background, I spot someone who is wearing sunglasses and looking extremely uncomfortable.  It’s him. Alastor. Alastor is Alex Arnold and Eric Draven. The construction company must be his way of cleaning his money. Not only that, but I also have his address. I know how to find him. Quite what I will do with the information, I have no idea, but knowledge is power.  I need to think...I need a vacation. Read the full article

[allyinthekeyofx]

In my field of paper flowers 4/7

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Please note - Possible triggers contained in this chapter - alludes to suicide.

Chapter four

As a highly qualified Agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, I have spent the days since Scully was handed the file, ascertaining all and every detail of how it came to be. 

I have thoroughly questioned Skinner and also John’s ex-wife and fellow conspirator.

I have discovered that William is somewhere in Wyoming. Unofficially adopted by a distant family member of Monica Reyes.

I have discovered that his adoptive parents are, on a very basic level, aware of why he was given up to them.

I have knowledge of how a condition of the ‘adoption’ was that regular updates were supplied to Monica and then later John, to ensure he was both happy and safe. That those same updates would one day be passed to Scully and I.

I would like to question Monica but unfortunately I haven’t been able to locate her. John may have been able to furnish me with the details of her whereabouts but, since dead men don’t speak, I’ve hit a brick wall with that one.

But despite that small detail, I pretty much understand the hows and the whys. I’ve viewed all the evidence with the same clinical detachment I have witnessed in Scully every time she has had cause to don her scrubs before dissecting a corpse and have concluded that, the actions taken by John Doggett with regards to my son, where wholly honourable. 

And for that I suppose I should be grateful.

I have delivered each piece of information to Scully in a dull, monotone voice that I hardly recognise as being my own while all the time I try not to acknowledge the hurt and confusion that exudes from her in waves; stemming from her disbelief as to how I can be so fucking apathetic about the actual contents of that precious file.

A file that has been in our possession for 5 days, 7 hours and a handful of minutes and one which I have refused to even hold in my hand, let alone open to view the contents.

I know what it contains of course because it’s no secret now – a full and comprehensive history of William from age 10 months to present. Photographs, school reports, medical records, a couple of painted hand and footprints; even a poem he wrote to us when he was in 7th grade and told about our existence.

A record of all the most important events in his childhood.

A childhood we missed now neatly packaged into a buff coloured box file.

And I can’t open it. I just can’t.

Scully doesn’t understand my reluctance of course and I can’t really expect her to since I don’t actually understand it myself.

Because I want so much to sit with her and go through the contents of that file. To finally meet my son. A son who I have thought about every single day since Skinner came to tell me that, whatever I thought had been lost already, that nothing would ever compare to the real sacrifice that had ripped out the very heart of the woman I loved more than life itself.

Because she had given him away.

Had given him away to strangers to ensure his happiness, even at the expense of her own.

I cried bitter tears that night. Not for me, but for everything she had lost. Lost at the expense of a quest that should only have ever been mine, but one that I had dragged her into. Even though I’d had a hundred opportunities to change things for her before it was too late.

And for my own selfish reasons, I hadn’t; I had kept her with me. Blind, selfish love had prevented me from ever doing the right thing for her and by the time I had realised, she was in too deep, the opportunity had gone.

She gave away her son.

Gave him away because she knew that while ever she was associated with me, that he would never be safe.

When in fact, she could have simply taken him and disappeared - certainly she had enough access at that point to be erased from society if she had decided to take that course.

But she hadn’t.

Because as much as she loved William, she loved me too. That to disappear without knowing what had happened to me was simply not an option for her.

So she stayed. Trying to pick up the shattered remnants of her life, even as she kept believing that I would return.

I will never forgive myself.

I am a guilty man. I deserve the harshest punishment for my crimes.

And God help me, sometimes I wish I had received the punishment that had been metered out to me in that Kangaroo court so many years ago. Because then it would have been over. As hard and as painful and as futile it would have been, she could have had these past fifteen years with her son – or at the very least been a part of his life and I would have eventually just become another painful memory to add to the multitudes I had already heaped upon her.

She hasn’t actually questioned me as to why I am so reluctant to look inside that file and I wonder, if on some level, she already suspects what my answer would be.

That I don’t really have any real right to view the contents.

That I’m not worthy enough to look into the face of a child I don’t deserve to call my son.

A child whose Mother I left. Left to make every painful decision regarding his future without one iota of input or support from me.

I’m not his Father.

I never have been.

On some level, I wish she would demand answers from me as to why I am, even now, leaving her to face this alone, but she hasn’t and she doesn’t; instead I can feel her eyes upon me, when she thinks I’m not aware that she is looking at me. Trying to figure it all out. Trying to figure me out. Just like she always has.

I don’t deserve her concern and I’m aware that I’m pushing her away and I wish I could stop myself, but I just can’t. 

Of course she has found every excuse to come around to the house. Our little house that holds so many secrets of a life once lived because I’m at least astute enough to know she is desperately worried that I am falling again.

Maybe I am.

Maybe I’m always destined to fall; but this time I don’t want her to fall with me. Not now, not when she has finally found a semblance of peace.

Right now though I feel strangely calm as I turn the small blue and white bottle over and over in my hand, my analytical mind weighing up the potential consequences my actions may heap upon her.

Dana Scully.

A woman I didn’t deserve.

And one who certainly had never deserved me.

That maybe it is finally time to do the right thing so that she might one day be finally free of me and all the heartbreak I brought along with me.

So I slowly flip the lid off the bottle and shake the contents out to join the small pile of pills that jostle each other on the table in front of me. Valium, Ativan and Librium. All recently obtained through unofficial channels – just another crime to add to my many.

And I close my eyes briefly. Seeing her beautiful face in my mind. Just one final time.

I’m so sorry Scully.

For everything.

[courtneytincher]

Iranian Students Set to Start at U.S. Universities Are Barred From Country

At least a dozen Iranian students who were set to begin graduate programs in engineering and computer science say their visas were abruptly canceled and they were barred from their flights to the United States this month.The sudden batch of visa cancellations, which came at a time of heightened tensions between the United States and Iran, set off a scramble by university officials, lawmakers, the students' union and Iranian-American advocates to figure out what had happened.The State Department said that there had been no change in policy regarding student visas, and higher education officials say that visa problems arise every fall for some of the hundreds of thousands of international students who travel to attend U.S. colleges and universities.But the students, most of whom were headed to schools in the University of California system, say their visas were revoked at the last minute, without any warning or explanation. Most were prevented from boarding flights in Iran, and others from boarding connecting flights in the Persian Gulf. One was detained at Boston Logan International Airport and then turned back.Many of the students said that a State Department webpage showed their visa cases had been updated around Aug. 30, and they were prevented from boarding in early September.All of that came before a Sept. 14 attack on two key Saudi oil installations, which has escalated a standoff between the United States and its ally Saudi Arabia against Iran.A law enacted in 2012 under President Barack Obama requires the U.S. government to deny visas to Iranian students whose coursework would prepare them to work in the energy or nuclear sectors in their home country. Consular officials have wide discretion on how to interpret the statute and put it in place, said Jamal Abdi, the president of the National Iranian American Council, a Washington-based group.Mark Dubowitz, the chief executive of the Foundation for Defense of Democracies, also based in Washington, said he appreciated that the 2012 law had sought to prevent knowledge gained in the United States from being used in the service of the Iranian government.But he pointed to the difficulty in predicting how students would use technical skills that are widely sought after and applicable in many industries. He suggested a more radical approach: to overturn the Trump administration's travel ban and require Iranian students in sensitive fields to stay in the United States after graduation.Most Iranians cannot obtain visas to travel to the United States because of the travel ban on visitors from their country, as well as from Libya, Somalia, Syria, Yemen, North Korea and Venezuela. But there are narrow exemptions, including for students. Most of the students who were barred had been given single-entry visas, and were prepared to go years without seeing family members who would not have been able to visit them.In phone interviews and emails, the students said they were crestfallen. Some had left high-level jobs or sold their homes, or had turned down opportunities in Europe or Canada. Most said their studies had been fully funded, and many had been slated to begin teaching or research positions in addition to their studies."I feel I'm damaged emotionally, financially, academically," said Peyman, 23, who was supposed to begin a degree in electrical engineering at the University of California at San Diego. He asked to be identified only by his first name because he did not want to jeopardize his chances of getting another visa.Peyman said that he had been barred from a connecting flight in Qatar this month and that an airline employee had scrawled "CANCELED" across his visa in pen, saying the instructions to do so had come from the Department of Homeland Security.The State Department does not release data on visa revocations, and the department said it could not release information about individual cases.Abdi, the president of the National Iranian American Council, said the group normally hears about visa denials, not last-minute revocations. But new vetting procedures -- including reviewing social media information from visa applicants -- have been "a black box," he said.The student workers in the University of California system are represented by the U.S. Automobile Workers Local 2865. Its president, Kavitha Iyengar, said in a statement that her members "do not deserve to be discriminated against."She said that the union often helps members who have visa issues, but that she had never seen a problem of this scope.John A. Perez, the chairman of the University of California system's Board of Regents, said the university would stand with its international students "no matter where they were born -- and protect them in any way we can from the unpredictable actions of this administration."The university's media relations office said in a separate statement that it was working with government agencies and lawmakers to resolve the issue. It also noted that other Iranian students in the science, technology, engineering and math fields had arrived on campus before September.A spokesman for Customs and Border Protection reiterated that there had been no change in policy. He added that the agency had the authority to cancel visas but also had policies in place "to ensure multiple layers of review when adjudicating a denial of admission."The White House did not immediately respond to a question about whether visa policy had been changed.At a time when the Iranian economy is in dire condition, hobbled by U.S. sanctions, many Iranian students pay out of pocket to visit the U.S. embassies in Armenia or Turkey for visa interviews, in addition to paying for plane tickets and other arrangements.Nima Abdollahpour, 23, completed his bachelor's degree at Sharif University of Technology in Tehran, which is often called the MIT of Iran, and had planned to study electrical and computer engineering at the University of California, Davis.He said he and other students had grown frustrated as they were directed from one government agency to the next."I am a student who will lose another year or two of my life to find another program, as well as tons of money and energy," he said.Chinese scholars have also faced restrictions on visas to the United States amid tensions between the two countries, prompting educators to voice concerns about the possible impact on innovation and on researchers already in the United States. Last month, nine Chinese undergraduate students enrolled at Arizona State University were detained at Los Angeles International Airport and sent back to China without explanation.In a statement on Thursday, Michael M. Crow, the president of Arizona State University, criticized Customs and Border Protection's handling of the student visa process."They are unevenly and inappropriately making determinations that have no factual basis and that they have no experience making," he said."If CBP and DHS do not take this problem seriously," Crow said, "all universities need to seek review by Congress and the courts."This article originally appeared in The New York Times.(C) 2019 The New York Times Company

from Yahoo News - Latest News & Headlines

At least a dozen Iranian students who were set to begin graduate programs in engineering and computer science say their visas were abruptly canceled and they were barred from their flights to the United States this month.The sudden batch of visa cancellations, which came at a time of heightened tensions between the United States and Iran, set off a scramble by university officials, lawmakers, the students' union and Iranian-American advocates to figure out what had happened.The State Department said that there had been no change in policy regarding student visas, and higher education officials say that visa problems arise every fall for some of the hundreds of thousands of international students who travel to attend U.S. colleges and universities.But the students, most of whom were headed to schools in the University of California system, say their visas were revoked at the last minute, without any warning or explanation. Most were prevented from boarding flights in Iran, and others from boarding connecting flights in the Persian Gulf. One was detained at Boston Logan International Airport and then turned back.Many of the students said that a State Department webpage showed their visa cases had been updated around Aug. 30, and they were prevented from boarding in early September.All of that came before a Sept. 14 attack on two key Saudi oil installations, which has escalated a standoff between the United States and its ally Saudi Arabia against Iran.A law enacted in 2012 under President Barack Obama requires the U.S. government to deny visas to Iranian students whose coursework would prepare them to work in the energy or nuclear sectors in their home country. Consular officials have wide discretion on how to interpret the statute and put it in place, said Jamal Abdi, the president of the National Iranian American Council, a Washington-based group.Mark Dubowitz, the chief executive of the Foundation for Defense of Democracies, also based in Washington, said he appreciated that the 2012 law had sought to prevent knowledge gained in the United States from being used in the service of the Iranian government.But he pointed to the difficulty in predicting how students would use technical skills that are widely sought after and applicable in many industries. He suggested a more radical approach: to overturn the Trump administration's travel ban and require Iranian students in sensitive fields to stay in the United States after graduation.Most Iranians cannot obtain visas to travel to the United States because of the travel ban on visitors from their country, as well as from Libya, Somalia, Syria, Yemen, North Korea and Venezuela. But there are narrow exemptions, including for students. Most of the students who were barred had been given single-entry visas, and were prepared to go years without seeing family members who would not have been able to visit them.In phone interviews and emails, the students said they were crestfallen. Some had left high-level jobs or sold their homes, or had turned down opportunities in Europe or Canada. Most said their studies had been fully funded, and many had been slated to begin teaching or research positions in addition to their studies."I feel I'm damaged emotionally, financially, academically," said Peyman, 23, who was supposed to begin a degree in electrical engineering at the University of California at San Diego. He asked to be identified only by his first name because he did not want to jeopardize his chances of getting another visa.Peyman said that he had been barred from a connecting flight in Qatar this month and that an airline employee had scrawled "CANCELED" across his visa in pen, saying the instructions to do so had come from the Department of Homeland Security.The State Department does not release data on visa revocations, and the department said it could not release information about individual cases.Abdi, the president of the National Iranian American Council, said the group normally hears about visa denials, not last-minute revocations. But new vetting procedures -- including reviewing social media information from visa applicants -- have been "a black box," he said.The student workers in the University of California system are represented by the U.S. Automobile Workers Local 2865. Its president, Kavitha Iyengar, said in a statement that her members "do not deserve to be discriminated against."She said that the union often helps members who have visa issues, but that she had never seen a problem of this scope.John A. Perez, the chairman of the University of California system's Board of Regents, said the university would stand with its international students "no matter where they were born -- and protect them in any way we can from the unpredictable actions of this administration."The university's media relations office said in a separate statement that it was working with government agencies and lawmakers to resolve the issue. It also noted that other Iranian students in the science, technology, engineering and math fields had arrived on campus before September.A spokesman for Customs and Border Protection reiterated that there had been no change in policy. He added that the agency had the authority to cancel visas but also had policies in place "to ensure multiple layers of review when adjudicating a denial of admission."The White House did not immediately respond to a question about whether visa policy had been changed.At a time when the Iranian economy is in dire condition, hobbled by U.S. sanctions, many Iranian students pay out of pocket to visit the U.S. embassies in Armenia or Turkey for visa interviews, in addition to paying for plane tickets and other arrangements.Nima Abdollahpour, 23, completed his bachelor's degree at Sharif University of Technology in Tehran, which is often called the MIT of Iran, and had planned to study electrical and computer engineering at the University of California, Davis.He said he and other students had grown frustrated as they were directed from one government agency to the next."I am a student who will lose another year or two of my life to find another program, as well as tons of money and energy," he said.Chinese scholars have also faced restrictions on visas to the United States amid tensions between the two countries, prompting educators to voice concerns about the possible impact on innovation and on researchers already in the United States. Last month, nine Chinese undergraduate students enrolled at Arizona State University were detained at Los Angeles International Airport and sent back to China without explanation.In a statement on Thursday, Michael M. Crow, the president of Arizona State University, criticized Customs and Border Protection's handling of the student visa process."They are unevenly and inappropriately making determinations that have no factual basis and that they have no experience making," he said."If CBP and DHS do not take this problem seriously," Crow said, "all universities need to seek review by Congress and the courts."This article originally appeared in The New York Times.(C) 2019 The New York Times Company

September 21, 2019 at 03:29PM via IFTTT

[bestpromiserings]

13 Things People Wish They'd Known Before Buying Engagement Rings

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My mother has a story she wants to advise about her commitment to my dad. She was an as of late separated from 25-year-old when they met; he, at 28, was prepared for marriage and felt that she was the one. Following five months of dating — commitment came a great deal sooner in 1969 — he popped the inquiry. She challenged. In spite of the fact that she revealed to me later she realized he was the correct person, she would not like to race into anything, not when dating was so much fun. He continued inquiring. At long last, she reacted in taunt dissatisfaction, "Fine, in the event that you get me a precious stone wedding ring, I'll wed you." His reaction: "How about we go out to shop." (My folks are as cheeky as they are sentimental.) He purchased the ring; after two months they strolled down the walkway, and right up 'til the present time they both fortune the gems and the story. My father says, "Two things Mom gained from our pre-commitment: I wasn't shabby — I got her a major ring — and I was determined.

The custom of wedding bands is not really new. Old Egyptians are believed to be the originators of the custom, however the jewel as the cutting edge commitment standard didn't come to fruition until Frances Gerety made the uncontrollably viable "A Diamond Is Forever" slogan for De Beers in 1947. It was once suspected that the fourth finger of your left hand contained a vein that ran directly to your heart, which is the reason we wear rings there — sentimental, correct? Obviously the present wedding bands come in all shapes and sizes and with a variety of jewels, and a few people don't go for the convention by any means. Likewise with weddings, doing it your own particular manner has turned into the new standard. Obviously, there's dependably help to be picked up from the encounters of others. This is what 13 individuals needed to share about the procedure.

1. You don't need to go through multi month's pay on a ring.

My life partner purchased my wedding band at a pawn shop with his joblessness check and proposed to me five days after I moved on from Auburn. I was insane to state yes! Individuals dependably inquire as to whether it is a "family piece." I state it presumably was from someone's family.

He understood that I was the lady he needed to wed and went and got me a ring he could bear. Each time I consider it, I am helped to remember the amount he adores me and that I am so valuable to him. I've known about individuals "overhauling" their rings when they get more seasoned, however I will never part with mine. — Alana, 37, Alabama

2. You can purchase your ring on the web. (Truly!)

In 2002, we were 25 and in graduate school and poor as chapel mice. After a ton of forward and backward, including hand-wringing about whether or not wedding bands were women's activist, it was concluded that we'd search for a vintage ring. Everything was excessively costly. So then we looked on eBay and discovered one that I loved. It was in our value range, and it looked so sparkly and neighborly. Also, we both resembled, "Ooh! It's so pretty!" But purchasing gems on eBay is crazy, isn't that so? Truly, unmistakably, that is an awful thought. In any case, we offer on it. What's more, we won it.

It arrived half a month later in a cheap little heart-formed ring box, however the ring was so sweet and beautiful and sparkly. We took it to a closeout house in Boston that does free gems evaluations. Incredibly, it was worth possibly somewhat more than we paid. — Katherine, 40, New York City

3. Ring correspondence is meaningful of ALL correspondence.

We'd been dating around nine months, and we were beginning to have discussions about getting hitched. I'd stated, "I'm not into every one of the trappings; on the off chance that you need to set aside some cash, you can get a good deal on a ring." He begins dropping clues, and I'm supposing the proposition is coming any moment now. We stroll into his condo and he motions over the space to a bicycle I hadn't seen and resembled, "This is for you." Earlier in our relationship, he'd shown me how to ride a bicycle, and sooner or later I understood "Gracious, he's utilizing the bicycle to propose to me." He'd taken "I needn't bother with an extravagant ring" to signify "I needn't bother with a ring by any stretch of the imagination," which was not the situation.

My father referenced that he had my grandma's ring, and we chose we'd make our own utilizing one of its stones (and we'd treat the bicycle like a wedding present). My life partner had his granddad's ring, which was gold. He chose to have that softened down for the band, and we'd put my grandma's stone in it. However, after we made sense of this arrangement, he came over and got down on one knee and gave over a container. Inside was an appalling wedding band. I resembled, "For what reason are you doing this?" and he stated, "You said you needed a ring." I can't recollect whether they let him return it or gave him a credit. What a horrendous misuse of cash. It was another opportunity to scrutinize his judgment and listening abilities.

In the end I ended up with my ring, which is excellent. In any case, it's in a sheltered store box, in light of the fact that several years after the fact we got separated. I think the procedure of wedding band shopping was extremely significant of critical ways we didn't impart well. Similarly as with any piece of a relationship, getting connected with is a decent trial of whether you're truly ready to address each other's issues. — Jessica, 44, Washington, DC

Photograph given by Jessica

4. There is such a mind-bending concept as a women's activist wedding band — it's classified "doing anything you desire."

My life partner simply wasn't that into profitable material products being given from a man to a lady as a feature of our choice to live cheerfully ever after, yet she likewise originated from a culture where rings are a truly major ordeal. She was vacillating. She had a gathering of companions she delighted in month to month boozy early lunches with: a Sociology PhD, some book editors—a fairly women's activist and lefty group. So I brought forth an arrangement: Why doesn't she ask them what they think? I sent her off to early lunch secure in the learning I'd recently splendidly spared "two months pay" and struck a blow for women's liberation to boot. The early lunch aggregate wasn't keen on striking a blow for correspondence; they were amped up for the wedding, the wedding band no short of what whatever else. I think one individual knowledgeable and achieved bruncher was cited as saying something along the lines of "You better get that stone, young lady!"

What's more, that is simply the tale of how I found, the following week, wedding band shopping. We did live joyfully ever after. My significant other kept her own name. Be that as it may, she has a pretty kickass wedding band. — Steven, 46, and Karina, 35, New York City

5. You don't should be very nearly a proposition to get one.

My companion Mary and I were having early lunch, and she was revealing to me things were quitting any and all funny business with her beau. She inquired as to whether I was keen on running wedding band shopping with her. I said would it say it wasn't somewhat possible to go wedding band shopping — how could she know whether her sweetheart would propose? "He'll propose," she said.

So we go to a ring shop in downtown Portland and eye a couple of rings. At that point a more established lady came into the store. The representative pardoned himself and told the lady, "I have your ring prepared!" and gave her the little box and she opened it and screeched. Mary and I resembled, "Amazing, that is an incredible ring!" and I asked "Who is the fortunate individual you're wedding?"

"Gracious! I'm not locked in," she said. "I'm not notwithstanding dating anybody at the present time. I simply realize that one day I need to get hitched and I need the person to utilize this ring."

Mary resembled, "There is a lady who realizes what she needs," and I kind of concur, yet I additionally thought, "There's a lady who has abandoned the fanciful notion of being locked in." I'm 31 now and pondering marriage than when I was 22, yet despite everything I figure it would be odd if a person got down on one knee before me and I resembled "Hold up I ALREADY GOT THE RING." — Shefali, 31, Washington, DC

6. Ring shopping implies unlimited things to learn.

There are such huge numbers of choices out there, and a great deal of them don't include precious stones! My ring is "The Oval Gatsby" by Heidi Gibson Designs. It's a hand craft with blended stones. Stick to what you need in your heart, and somebody who might be listening can make that for you!

My life partner had utilized my closest companion as a bait without me knowing. I had zero thought what my ring size was, and my closest companion made me accompany her to get her wedding ring and check my ring size while I was there. She at that point transferred this data back to my life partner.

After I got my ring, it was marginally too huge. I'd gotten my ring size estimated while I was hot and sweat-soaked in August, which implied that my hands were swollen. I expected to get my ring estimated down somewhat. Presently, resizing a ring truly debilitates the metal, and I didn't realize that previously. Be that as it may, Heidi Gibson offers these measuring balls that can be evacuated at a later time, which causes it fit my hand better. — Allyson, 30, New York City

Photograph given by Allyson

7. You can wear it on any finger.

I didn't need one, yet my life partner got me one in any case, and it's great. I wore it on my center finger so it wouldn't be An Engagement Ring. It is anything but a basic band/solitaire, so it doesn't resemble a wedding band, however it has a precious stone — vintage, so it doesn't look prominent. What's more, when individuals requested to see my wedding band, I indicated it to them on that finger, however I don't recollect that anybody saying anything. Before commitment and marriage began d

[winryl25-blog]

Civil Engineers

The final place I labored at was previously a thriving design / build firm. On the couple of occasions the mind trust in the Architecture department and the Construction department would gather their donuts and coffee and meet within the conference room to go over the caliber of our construction sketches and how you can improve them. To read more about slip critical connection, visit our website.

Our sketches had the standard problems because of the usual pressures of the busy architectural work atmosphere missing information, conflicts, coordination issues, CAD anomalies, etc.

Recall the days when firms had drawing checkers? It appears that no-one checks sketches any longer there's just virtually no time within the schedule or budget. Now we call that process putting in a bid. It sure helps make the construction guys angry. We obtain sensitive about our design work, however they get sensitive when cash is involved. Many people are simply so materialistic.

Because the CAD manager, I'd sit and take notes during these conferences, while attempting to balance an espresso, diet coke and two donuts within my lap. After around an hour and one half, everyone had their say. Although I'd a lot of notes, these were just details pointing to the point. The issue was surprisingly simple, the sketches weren't coordinated.

ARCHITECTURAL DESKTOP

Because the CAD manager, I had been greatly grieved with this. I was using Architectural Desktop for our work. I was utilizing it like a BIM tool, building a 3D model and removing all of the 2D sketches. Very awesome however it was difficult to do, needed many years of training on my small part, many years of setup and the enter your car and training of recent people. A few of the new everyone was very resistant against employed in 3D and with tools they weren't acquainted with. Some were really subversive. I known as these folks flat-landers simply because they desired to experience architecture in 2D. I guess it had been much better than giving them a call things i wanted to. More information on sfd and bmd for simply supported beamcan be found by visiting our website.

As difficult because it was, i was receiving targeted results. We're able to create live renderings quickly, we understood exactly what the building really was likely to seem like and we understood in which the design problems were developing. We even made cash on our architectural charges from time to time. Just how did this issue occur?

Because the project got nearer to finishing and the resolution from the detail grew to become finer, Architectural Desktop grew to become harder and finicky. When crunch time came, the subversive flat-landers would explode the work. Once exploded into lines, the less experienced would deconstruct the coordination in order to produce the illusion the project was really finished. Once the inevitable changes arrived, the work CAD data degenerated even more.

REVIT ARCHITECTURE

Then along came Revit. The program satisfied the commitment of what Architectural Desktop was said to be. Don't misunderstand me, it had been a large pain to apply however i understood when I possibly could make Architectural Desktop work for us, i then could implement Revit. Management was definitely not always supportive, supplying no training and no setup time to really make it work, however they did provide doubt and critique. A minimum of they compensated for the needed hardware and software.

In Architectural Desktop you needed to invent complex systems to handle a task. In Revit it was already taken proper care of. In Architectural Desktop you needed to invent complex CAD standards and program them directly into your system, and then train users and enforce the factors. With Revit, the factors from the box labored for us. It was absolutely amazing. I'm able to enter any office with Revit on the computer and just begin working. Suppose? I can not even start to tell you just how much CAD personalization I've done within the last two decades. I do not do anything whatsoever to Revit except to produce families, (their term for parametric block styles) shared parameters and project templates.

Architectural desktop is rough, Revit is smooth. Architectural Desktop is fragile and breaks, Revit is powerful and solid. Upgrading Architectural Desktop is really a multi-week process involving breaking all of the a lot of current personalization and rebuilding it after you buy a couple of books, email some gurus, and discover the hidden cache of secret inside info on what's really happening within the stupid program. It requires not just one but a minimum of three programming languages to create this factor work right. Then obviously you need to re-train you.

Upgrading Revit can be achieved over lunch, without any training. I do not even consider the readme file.

BUILDING INFORMATION MODELING (BIM)

BIM? I truly did not like this acronym. I loved SBM (Single Building Model). It did not appear to match Autodesk's marketing strategy though. Nobody requested me anyway. Really I have faith that the mounds of knowledge in each and every magazine today and on every site about BIM are mainly crap. Each one of these pros who avoid using Revit say you can perform this, that and another factor. I do not inflict of individuals. I am not really sure what they're. Possibly we'll see sometime later on.

But here's where BIM and Revit Architecture rocks. You cannot explode the Revit model. Which means that the geometry will be coordinated. The reference tags and sheet figures can't be edited individually from the model. These tags aren't fragile they're reliable, from the model and the schedules. I am unsure that you can place a Revit project from coordination despite great effort. So much like that, nearly all our drawing problems have left. This is evidence of how intelligent software could make you a much better architect. Yes I stated it Revit can make you a much better architect.

At our firm, Revit stopped is the office joke as our efficiency improved. Whenever we needed to bring in help for our architecture department, Revit experience was our main concern. It had been beginning to become focus in our marketing at that time I left. The very first factor that won people's hearts about our Revit results was that people were solving design problems that people might not have seen previously. Our solutions were valid right right from the start. Inside a design / build office where construction guys are searching over your shoulder, this really is critical.

RENDERING

Through the design process, you are able to place a video camera and snap a nearly perfect rendering. The rendering abilities are perfect and also material and link suitable for 3DS Max if you opt for it. The simple Mental Ray rendering dialog box produced amazing results fast with no work. Any Revit user are now able to make excellent renderings having a couple of minutes of training. Not just could you have top quality renderings fast, however you may also have plenty of made images inside a project to obviously articulate your design for your client. Revit can make you a much better architect.

After I printed the assistance system for Viz Render, the rendering tool in Architectural Desktop, it filled two volumes and was on the 1000 pages, in addition to taking plenty of time for you to master. For more information on risa 3d tutorial, visit our website today.

DESIGN PARADIGM SHIFT

Between your smooth 3D interface and rendering stacks of views, architects are in possession of a brand new first. They be capable of easily see every uncovered surface inside a building design - walls, floors, ceilings and roofs - Inside and out. For the very first time we are able to see everything of all time built. Wow, can you begin to see the implications?

There's now no excuse for bad design or design mistakes. Many people have no idea this but nearly all architects and designers really do not know just what the built design may be like. Sure they know and many are way much better than others, but this can be a fundamental problem especially in which the design charges are low and things are in black and white-colored and 2D. Once while designing some ductwork, I produced an MC Escher like sculpture. My boss was amused while he caught it, however that might have been a large problem.

Revit can make you a much better architect due to the fact you are becoming immediate feedback in your design. If you begin to see the object as it will likely be, then you will correct and optimize it. It might be absurd to not. You will not have the ability to sleep understanding that flaw is within your design. I believe what flat-landers like is that they look in their 2D black and white-colored drawing and can think perfect and congratulations since it matches their imagination. 3D and color is just too many details for them.

Architectural drawing without 3D is much like typing instructions on the computer with no monitor. You most likely got the majority of it right. You are most likely not really able change it out. You may redo it a couple of occasions. Wouldn't the feedback from the monitor be great?

I've found it interesting what size contractors are among individuals leading the proceed to BIM due to collision recognition tools and the cash they save in stopping construction errors and identifying design errors. Some contractors are getting their in-house Revit guys model the 2D construction documents the architects issue to trap their design errors. Stick to the money.

Should not the architects be leading this? I wish to think that the architects not using Revit just have no idea better. They do not know about its coordination features, rendering abilities, and its detailing tools. They do not know it may completely replace AutoCAD. They might believe that attracting 3D wastes time, instead of saves time. I did not know all of this after i began with Revit and I needed to decipher it by myself.

Architects keep listening to how BIM will benefit everyone except them. They may not realize it may benefit them, and contemplate it an encumbrance.

Regrettably everyone knows architects which use AutoCAD 14 and will say "whether it was adequate for An Artist to make use of as he designed the pyramids, then it is adequate for me. " This option are often really fast and perform a very specific kind of work. They're also very gradually losing share of the market, developing carpal tunnel and eventually they'll find society will no longer have a necessity for their professional services. Seen worthwhile ink on vellum hands drafting recently? What about press-on letters, pin registration mylar, leroy lettering sets, or ruling pens?

CAD really required off when Bob Rental property demonstrated a designer utilizing a system on "This Old House". The hardware would be a Plastic Graphics workstation costing nearly $80Thousand and wasn't a practical option at that time, however it produced a notion that resonated using the public. Not embracing CAD was the finish of a lot design firms.

An Artist labored in 3D and colored.

SKETCHUP

Sketchup is becoming very popular lately among architects. These architects are smart enough to understand the need for color and 3D. It's the work they do flow which i can't stand. Most firms using Sketchup will also be using AutoCAD. So basically one group utilizes a design with Sketchup, another group utilizes a construction documents with AutoCAD. (More about AutoCAD later. ) Very little if any data reuse between your two groups. Additionally, it appears like it might be tough to model the inside and outside of a building in Sketchup. To obtain photo-realistic renderings in Sketchup, you require an add-on renderer. Still with Sketchup you are giving your customers sketches they are able to connect with, and that is a superb part of the best direction. Can Sketchup do layouts now?

REVIT WORKFLOW

In Revit you can begin modeling with walls, doorways and home windows or you may use their awesome mass modeling tools, extract volume and area data, and then parametrically attach the walls, floors, roofs, etc. Everything Sketchup can perform, Revit can perform better.

In Revit, you get one database and all sketches and schedules emerge from it. You don't have to draw a random line within the sand and say that's a design drawing and that's construction document. Both of them is one, progressing along together in perfect Zen. The truth is, does not the architect keep designing with the construction document phase? Most carry on doing it in to the construction phase. Revit makes it simple to achieve that. This can be a huge chance for profit in line with the efficiency from the Revit workflow versus the Sketchup / AutoCAD workflow.

Versatility

Among the best options that come with Revit isn't readily apparent. It's data versatility. For example In AutoCAD someone can create a door schedule. Presuming he's a workplace standard, and some door understanding, he blasts this out, done! That schedule doesn't have link with the work. Later if you erase a door in the plan, it's still within the schedule. It's also still around the wall elevation. With sufficient edits with time, the whole door schedule must be rechecked for coordination issues.

[joespit]

The War On Women: as reported by a man on the front-lines. by Joe Spit

Recently I was reading an article about how a woman threw her newborn baby out of a window. Now this woman had not told anyone she was pregnant and when people found out about it she told them it was a still-born and threw it out her 9th story apartment window with its umbilical cord still attached because she didn't know what to do with it. However coroner's found that the baby did indeed die of blunt force trauma from the aforementioned throwing it out a window. That monster how could she do that of all things, is what I'm sure you're thinking because it's what i was thinking, and us, presumably, not being monsters would empathize with the baby, who had hurt no one in its short life.

I'm a father of a beautiful boy who is about to turn two years old in the coming weeks, he is a ray of sunshine in my life and I would do anything for him. He was conceived on accidental circumstances, atop a volcano to a woman I barely knew at the time. but even with the obvious awkwardness of the situation, he was born and he is loved. However his mother and I are not a pair nor did we or will we ever have the feelings for eachother that a stable family would require, but he is alive and he is loved.

More recently, my girlfriend who I've been deeply in love with for the past two years, and who I should mention is on birth control, came home early from a gig she was doing to tell me that she was pregnant. We were overjoyed at first but sooner than we expected all the rational factors of reality set in. How are we going to afford it? if we have this baby I will probably not be able to see my current baby boy for a long while as he lives 2000+ miles away. My girlfriend and I would have to quit pursuing our careers and perhaps have move out of our 2 bedroom apartment as we would not be able to afford it with increased financial stress. I would probably have to work as a burger cook to ensure the steady payment that our lives as artists does not provide. It being 2015 we thought it over rationally and decided to not go through with seeing this embryo to term.

Now this was not an easy decision to make as anyone who has been in this position would know. My girlfriend and I do love each other enormously and what made matters worse is we have talked about having kids in the future together. Time makes fools of us all, however, after much self conflict and many hours of crying our decision resulted in only termination, which is fine it's 2015. That option is readily available and especially in a progressive city like New York City not demonized. Holy shit were we wrong.

My girlfriends general doctor was very unbiased and understanding to our plight and maybe even accepting of our decision, mentioning "you're not killing a baby, at this point it is only cells that have barely multiplied a few times and hasn't entered the uterus". Apparently your doctor cannot prescribe the pill to force a termination. She gave us all the information about it and recommended us two places we could go to to obtain it. One in Jamaica and one in Brooklyn. This was very different from the independant research my girlfriend and I did on our own but, she's a doctor what do we know.

We left the doctor's office at 1pm with the knowledge if we leave now we can get to the 1st recommendation in Jamaica before they close at 2pm, already this was slightly odd but, what do I know I've never even played a doctor on T.V. We zoom over there and the gods of transportation smiled upon us and opened up the traffic like the red sea. We get there in under 35 minutes, well before the 2pm out time. The moment we walk in the people greet us to "no youre looking for labcorp down the street" we think nothing of it and it's a simple mistake because apparently a lot of people go there thinking it's labcorp. after we adamantly show them we are in the right place and looking for our prescribed termination, they tell us "oh, that lady leaves at noon everyday". At this point were flustered but mistakes happen, so off to Brooklyn, and to make sure someone is there we google the address and google tells us it's a planned parenthood and that they're open until 8pm.

On the train ride over we are alight with thought. I start to think this is all a part of a subversive plot, like in Texas where some women have to drive over 200 miles to get to a clinic, hoping they'll reconsider over a long arduous drive. We arrive in Court Square just under an hour later. Inside it says it is a pregnancy center, and they as my girlfriend to fill out a form. It's a fairly standard form but this one has two things that perk our ears. They ask what religion we are, which we are none, but there is no box to heck for that. They also ask how did you hear about us, but it only lists in varying degrees ways in which we googled the place. No mention of a doctor recommendation or anything other than search engines.

When she fills out the form I notice on the coffee table there are strange magazines titled "Girls" and the other "Boys" both with photographic stereotypes about both genders on the covers Girls applying makeup and Boys playing basketball. The headline stories in each magazine is "What girls are really thinking" and the other "What boys are really thinking". It would seem to me if you really want t know the inside scoop just pick up the other magazine. Also on the wall there is a poster with a, let's say unique, arithmetic to count how many people you have actually had sex with. where if you have had one partner then you just slept with one person. it varys its arithmetic until at the bottom is says if you've have sex with 12 people you've actually had sex with 4,029 people. I recognize it as a scare tactic poster and very flawed, because if the person you have sex with is wearing a condom, then you’re having sex with 0 people? But before I can think about what is this doing in a doctor's office, they call my partner for a urine sample and give her a plastic ziploc bag and a dixie cup. I see that and at the very same moment the water cup I am sipping from has the same exact design on it. Even though my partner has all her medical paperwork stating her current health they need us to go through the motions of their very unsanitary medical faux procedure. I know dixie cups aren't sterile, and after she pisses in the Dixie cup, is she supposed to put the unsealable paper cup back in the plastic bag, leaving you with a bag of piss and trash? I've seen homeless people treat their piss better. Now we start to realise this too, like the first recommendation in Jamaica, isn't a doctor's office. but we are trying to go through with our difficult decision so whatever, let's just try and get it over with.

In a moment my partner comes storming out of the back office with a look of angry grief over her face. They were going to force her to watch a video and they were stating that at 4 weeks the embryo already has a heart and head. Us not being retarded knew that isn't right but they insisted, "nope look at the picture", which was a drawing of some kind of chicken lizard with a smile. Little did we know this was a christian run faux planned parenthood. Where they give false hopes and misinformation, while pushing their agenda and not offering the unbiased help you wold expect from any medical professional. In the elevator she tells me how they said they could only give the prescription for termination,which we already had from our doctor, after she watched the video, I doubt they ever help with termination. How my partner didn't smash everything in that place is beyond me. She told me they offered her a job to afford the baby. My partner has a career, and their job would be one of minimum wage somewhere, which as we all know can barely support a single person nonetheless a family. I would stand to bet that the jobs in question don't even offer maternity benefits. The entire staff there were 25 year old and under girls who have never been pregnant. I can only imagine for someone who goes there thinking it's actually planned parenthood and is uneducated and unready for a baby. They kept saying how they would discuss options for you, but it was clear that the only option was their agenda, seeing the embryo to term.

At this point we go to an actual planned parenthood. where we have to go through a metal detector and the guard explicitly ask if we have pepper spray. After talking with the guard and staff we find out that people come there often and try to inflict pain on the people working there. those good christians that just wanna save the lives  of the poor unborn babies, will harm people with no problem. We tell them of the Christian faux planned parenthood and they say "Oh the one across the street?"

This all brings me back to that monster of a mother who threw her baby out a window moments after it was born. She is in jail and will remain there for the next two years, minimum. My partner and i are both college educated and while we were both raised with religion, we have broken away from it entirely as far as doctrines or agendas are concerned, but this monster mom from the Bronx, over the events of the day became so much more human in our eyes. She merely couldn't afford to get an abortion, and while there are 2 actual planned parenthoods in nyc there are over 10 of the pseudo christian run planned parenthoods, where they don't offer options nor even condoms in the one we went to. Only misinformation and guilt trip videos, making a hard decision even harder And this is happening everywhere.

I, as a white male, would never expect that the war on women was going to not only come to my doorstep, but affect me in such a harmful way. The war on women is strong and subversive, so much so, that it has even invaded a bastion of liberalism that is New York City. I don't know if my partner's doctor was in on it. I'm sure they just googled where to go and got caught in phishing net, like so many people who rely on the internet for solid information. It's ludicrous that there only appear to be 2 places serving the entire population of NYC, where a woman can get valuable with out her personal integrity being called into question.  The war on women pushes on far after the baby is born, since there are no state run maternity benefits, no health care for the baby, and the places of business are rare to offer that as well. In my partner's case she is a dancer so she is out of work and her career could very easily be over..

So while the decision was the hardest one we have ever had to make, we made it, but because abortion has become so demonized it is nearly impossible to find the right information to obtain it. Some mothers not knowing what to do throw their babies out the window. While i can't agree with anyone doing that, I can see how a person can be driven to it. Making murders out of women who just wanted not to be in this situation, and offering nothing but deceit and shame, by the grace of God.

[lbjork64-blog]

Basic MS-DOS 6.22 setup guide

Foreword

I love computer science and the underlying systems. Aside from that, I love studying symbolic, abstract things like mathematics and languages. It may come as a surprise for some of my followers: the little known fact that I also love retro computing. I find retro computing an easy and intuitive way to dive into the zen garden of computing as it was in the past, and to appreciate the underlying foundations of modern computing. This can be a helpful corner stone for my computer science studies, It can also really function as a living museum: imagine going to a museum where the exhibits are not dead: they are alive, moving, write in front of your fingertips; and you can even experiment with them too!

Of course, being stripped off the many things one takes for granted such as the Internet, 32/64-bit architectures, modern graphics can beset one with dismay. In no situation is this more apparent than in MS-DOS: through the black box a user communicates and navigates their way round. Luckily for me, I have had some experience working with MS-DOS when I was rather young. I started fiddling around, albeit not so seriously, with these stuff when I was about 7 or 8. I can tell I had great fun. Ergo, this very fact and the fact that I have always enjoyed my journeys very much is one of the main motivations to write this blog post.

I will write about how to set up a basic and working MS-DOS 6.22 system, which includes the operating system itself, and some supplemental tools. Since this still isn't quite sufficient for day-to-day use, I will also write a short section about other essential software and hacks. Along the way, I will add some facts and little bits of detail I deem important, write about my experiences and thoughts about each aspect of the process, and maybe some current issues which I encounter.

But first, let's start off with the introduction, just so as to whet your appetite.

Oh, before that, though! It is important to note that anything in this post is given without warranty. That really just means I do not guarantee that it will work, nor the safety of your computers or data; you are responsible for having come here and following this guide. I'll just do my best to write based on my accounts, which may vary among different persons. By and large, this means that I am not responsible for your mishaps or any problems that may occur. Alright, if that is settled, you can move on…

Introduction to MS-DOS

Not so long ago in a land not so far away, maybe circa 1970~1980, relations between people and computers were complicated, literally. As yet, however, people didn't really mind the hassles in their relationships, for it was the best thing Generation X and the preceding ones had ever seen since sliced bread; computers had only just begun making a lot of tedious paper works, spreadsheets, computations, and other hectic tasks more feasible to the quintessential worker back then. To conclude, some people may well have just accepted that things couldn't possibly get any easier; the computers had already made it so much easier than in the case where they had not been there. So, life was great in the 80s — why care?

To us in the 21st century, looking back at the technology then, it does seem quite a hassle. This is primarily because computers in the old days obviously had old hardware which offered a relatively small amount of computational power and memory, and a primitive user interface. Needless to say, were you to ride a time machine to set foot back then, you would be bereft of the Internet and the ability to contact your friends and family in real-time; it would not be until about the 1990s when you would be able to hear the first EE-AHH of a 56k modem leaching through the grapevines, as it were, consequently connecting one to the world wide web. To clarify the point, suppose you were a quintessential office worker of the class of 1980, you'd be working on tonnes and tonnes of computer work, which were mostly text, displayed on a monochrome (or if you were lucky, CGA) cathode-ray screen — hardly would your eyes last; you'd also be typing out commands and combinations of keys for which you must resort to muscle memory; and at the end of the day, you'd have to rely on unstable, low-capacity, analog, magnetic storage called floppy disks (or diskettes) to save the precious daily work for which your eyes had teared and your brain had tired.

MS-DOS was the epitome of the idea of a personal 16-bit computer on everybody's hands. The name is an acronym standing for Microsoft - Disk Operating System. By definition, it was an operating system, which ran on and worked with disks (I'll let you guess what kind of disks I'm talking about — that's right: floppy disks!), and invented by Microsoft. Only during the first few versions of MS-DOS, must one run the operating system directly off some diskettes, and unfortunately, re-set the system Y2K-faulty date and time settings on each and every boot up before work could even begin. Subsequent versions of the operating system saw improvement: it could be installed straight onto an internal storage of the computer — the hard drive, which, needless to say, had low capacity; and the time need no longer be set by hand: it could be obtained straight off CMOS. As the title suggests, we will be discussing MS-DOS 6.22 — the final version of MS-DOS, not accounting for the fake version 7 — which means we will be covering something pretty current and easy.

The reason why we are not taking MS-DOS 7 into account is because it wasn't really an official version when it was released. Whereas MS-DOS 6.22 made it into the mainstream, MS-DOS 7 just disappeared. Apparently, its development had been supervised by an entity called China DOS Union, and the version just kind of disappeared, perhaps into China. Suffice it to say, a more toned-down version of MS-DOS 7 did make it into the mainstream; it was included as the underlying MS-DOS system of Windows 95 through to ME.

It's not all rainy days and dark skies for old technology, though, for not all of it is lost into history books. One such case is the command-line. Yes, it still exists and is necessary in many cases today. So tedious had the command-line become, that no sooner had people begun to complain about it than the computer mice was invented. This pointy, draggy thing was obviously beneficial because it made computing much easier to most people in general, but that was all it did: making computing much easier to most people in general. Suffice it to say, there is a reason why I wrote that emphatically. Apart from browsing the modern web, the mouse proves nearly no use to many hard-core computer-heads I know, nor does it prove any beneficial to me; we'd sooner everything were done on the buttons of the keyboard.

No matter how far you go to add ease of use to it, you cannot stagger away from the clickaty-clack of the keyboard, for it is one of the most fundamental and basic terminals to control a computer; you could get by with a mouse, but the basic functions of a computer can only be accessed with a keyboard, even today. To add to that, there's also speed and power, considering the fact that you wouldn't need to move your hands consistently back and forth between the mouse and keyboard just to do something different if all the features were on the keyboard and the load were on muscle memory.

As I have discussed with my friend before, the two previous paragraphs above this one really details why certain efforts on seemingly (to most people) obselete command-line stuff still exists: Vim, emacs, zsh, etc. Obviously, these have evolved from the history of computing, which frankly extends far before MS-DOS even came to existence. I admit it is hard, but once you master it, it pays off in the form of added speed, agility, and control. MS-DOS and its software is no exception: there are advantages, as certain aspects thereof work better and have worked better since their conception, while naturally exhibiting the other aspects which do not appear today, because they should be improved or changed nonetheless; for instance, text-mode survives and thrives, but the 56k EEH-AHH does not.

The three previous paragraphs above is also one of the key motivations to get down to trying out retrocomputing, especially DOS: not because you will be using it later on in life, but because it can enlighten you with knowledge about the foundations of computing, which has not changed much; and it can get you accustomed to some important aspects of computing which will definitely be beneficial with your everyday work, if you are into computing. Personally, I believe that everyone should at least be able to get by in the command-line because it is only there where one can find extremely powerful tools one could not have otherwise dreamt of: Vim and GPG, for instance. A case in point is this one day when I was trying to format my USB drive on Windows Explorer, but then it gave me an error without any explanations; then, I tried formatting it on the command-prompt using my pre-existing MS-DOS skills, and not only did it tell me what the fault was, it also went straight ahead and formatted the disk successfully without the constant nuisance of GUIs.

On the sidelines, I daresay I will arrange for there to be a nice, guided tutorial on Vim or other cool command-line stuff I use on my blog. They will mostly be on the UNIX shell, though, since that's what I have grown into, courtesy of MS-DOS.

It does appear that I have written a rather cute biography about MS-DOS and old computers. Of course, this is written from my knowledge on the subject. I'm 16 years old and I haven't really actually experienced the past, but I can get to grips with it based on my experience. If there should be any aspects which I described wrongly, please tell me about it very, very nicely, and I will correct it.

Anyway, the next section will describe the prerequisites — what is expected of you and your machine — before you begin with the actual installation.

Installation: Prerequisites

This section describes the prerequisites — what is expected of you and your machine — before you can begin with the actual installation. In light of the fact that we are all living in the 21st century with all the bewildering computational power and capacity now, in no way should these prerequisites be as hard to meet as they were in the 20th century. Nevertheless, it's advisable that you not turn a blind eye on this, just in case something is missing.

Here are some software-oriented specifications. I will put some information for those running on VirtualBox (a virtual machine software), but this may be ignored in reading if you are running MS-DOS on a native system or some other kind of virtualization.

≥ 64 MB of RAM. Memory, memory. For your information, although VirtualBox recommends 32 MB for memory, I wouldn't mind going to 64 MB for this one just in case. That is just one marker of my personality, really. Suffice it to say, I would not go too far on this lest it be a preparation apropos of nothing; MS-DOS is known to only utilize a certain amount of memory (circa 640 KB): if there is more memory than it can utilize, it simply ignores the overmuch.

≥ 1 GB Disk space. Again, VirtualBox recommends 500 MB for disk space, I don't see the harm of pushing it to two fold (1 GB), just in case. Again, I wouldn't go too far on this one: not because MS-DOS wouldn't use it, but actually inasmuch as it would be useless space and the initial formatting process brought upon by the MS-DOS setup could take way too long.

≥ 128 MB Video Memory + 3D acceleration. VirtualBox recommends 9 MB for video memory without 3D acceleration. However, since you know me well, I'll just go for 128 MB + 3D acceleration, just in case! You can hate me all you want.

≤ 50% CPU execution capability. If you are running natively, you can ignore this one because your system is bound to handle it; if you are running MS-DOS on a virtual machine, read up. This is important if you are using VirtualBox, lest the guest OS consume a needless margin of 100% CPU all the time, which could be a detriment for your system on the whole: host and guest alike. This is a very common problem posed by DOS as guest operating systems; it is as though DOS were a hungry, greedy, CPU eating monster. My wild guess says that setting this will only permit MS-DOS to use 50% of what it would use if it were otherwise unset. Technically, you could go as low as about 40%, but this seems to slow DOS down a little too much, so much so that some basic MS-DOS programs fail to work.

MS-DOS 6.22 setup floppy disks (images) + optional supplemental disk(s). You will need the setup disks to setup the operating system to full operation. Albeit optional, it may well be beneficial to have the supplemental disk(s) to get neat additionals like DOSSHELL; setting them up and using them will be covered later in this post. If you are using a virtualization system, you are quite certainly going to use floppy disk images, or virtual disks as they are often called, unless you have a floppy disk drive with you and prefer the clickaty-clack of the drive head peering through the magnetic jargon.

Here are some hardware-oriented specifications. This is important for those who are running MS-DOS on a native machine. If you are using VirtualBox or some means of virtualization, you need not worry about this inasmuch as your virtualization system should provide all this for you on the ready; it is still good practice to check through this so as to see if you really have everything.

PS/2 mouse pointer and keyboard. MS-DOS was made in the time when only PS/2 mouse pointers and keyboards were around. Sometimes, serial ports were used for that too! So, this is quite vital lest you not be able to take control of the console later on. However, there have been cases where my USB mice and keyboards work, but it is safe to assume I was just lucky.

≥ 1 floppy disk drives. Of course, MS-DOS was made to work on disks. From the start, if you even want a chance at setting up MS-DOS via floppy disk, it behoves you to have a floppy disk drive. Having more than one floppy drives isn't necessary, but it can be advantageous in certain configurations.

A monitor. Isn't this one obvious?

Of course, if you have a better alternative than what my prerequisites have so kindly stipulated, then you are welcome to use that; I won't mind. This section is here just to make preparation a little bit easier.

Now, there is certain to be something that may be bugging you and me right now, isn't there? Yes! I did not provide you with any download links to MS-DOS 6.22 setup disk images! Why didn't I do that, you ask? Well, this started when I got frustrated by other MS-DOS bloggers who were really just ignoring the need to provide those disk images to the public domain, even though the operating system had been deprecated for years! I also saw those bloggers leading very happy and popular lives, than I did. So enraged and jealous did I become, that I have decided to follow such stupidious trend: I will not be giving any resources to those disk images, as part of a revenge scheme. Blame the elitists for that, hah! Here are the pictures of the 3 setup disks. I won't lie, but that's what they expect you to be able to do: take them right off the screen! Duh! Okay, I am really angry and frustrated right now — let's just get a move on.

Alright, let's move on to the installation, shall we? I will be using VirtualBox to run MS-DOS and taking screenshots from there to put into this post.

Installation: Basic MS-DOS setup

First of all, insert the first installation floppy disk. This should be bootable by default unless the disk or drive is faulty. The first screen you should see after inserting the disk is the quintessential greeting of Starting MS-DOS.... As well as at the beginning of the setup process, this greeting appears on every boot up of the installed operating system itself. I think it's really cute, and it means you're great to go as this is how the fun really begins! :D

You are doing great! Now, the setup is in English, or it may be in a different language if you have purchased your copy in a different country. All you need to do from here is basically use your common sense and follow it out to the end on your own. From here, I won't say much, apart from one picture and a piece of commentary for each step, in that order. You can find the entire photo album of the MS-DOS 6.22 setup process from start to finish right at the link.

This is the default introduction to the setup. It tells you simply about what is going to happen, like an introduction to an essay with some tips and advice and how you can navigate around it in a basic sense. Your keyboard is to be used to handle everything as that is really all you can and need at the moment. The text user interface has got a pretty complete and friendly face so that you can indulge in it, as it were.

Don't let's expect me to rewrite whatever the instructions on the screen say; I expect you to read it yourself, then you should already know what is there, because I see no sense in being more redundant.

This help screen should tell you how you can navigate around. I won't tell you how to get into this screen, because it's obvious and you should really already know (press F1 lol)! This screen is just here on this post for reference.

On a brand new computer or virtualization session, your disks should literally be 100% bereft of partitions, partition tables, or whatever. If such is the case, then you should see this screen, proposing the allocation of the remaining free space, which just so happens to be the entire disk, since it is 100% bereft of partitions and thus, 100% free of things!

Only on an old computer with existing files must one be cautious of this potentially perilous step. The first paragraph neatly claims that None of your existing files will be affected. However, to be on the safe side, you had best back up your belongings on the hard drive lest the setup fail to manage the disk properly.

On one note, I don't really know what the setup will show if you do have a used disk with existing data and partitions in it, although if you do have a pre-existing MS-DOS installation, the setup will ask you whether you want to quit setup or simply reinstall the system files, leaving any existing non-system files untouched (but do not trust this fully). However, I think it should follow the flow of common sense so you could understand it pretty easily, and it might even claim to save your existing data for you. Nevertheless, data security should always be practiced.

I'm not sure if some people are absent-minded enough to think the setup will have already been completed when they see this screen. Well, truthfully, it isn't; and this is the very reason why the setup stipulates that the user keep the disk in place in the drive — so that it can continue later after a reboot.

Hardly will the disk have been touched at this point, but it will certainly be touched and modified after you've pressed ENTER to reboot. The MS-DOS setup already knows what it must do: it relays the user's instructions to allocate the space on disk and declares that it be done on next reboot provided that the disk be in the drive. So, be kind: keep the disk in the drive, press ENTER to reboot, and don't forget to get your BIOS boot order right. :)

As promised, the space which you wanted formatted earlier gets formatted!

The first partition MS-DOS finds is always given the name of drive C:, because the first two letters, namely A and B, are reserved for the two floppy disk drives on computers back in those days. Having two floppy disk drives proved quite useful on two usual occasions, all of which set in the 1980-90s:

Drive A: would be used for the system disk: the floppy diskette which would contain the Operating System and all the necessary commands, utilities, and programs; drive B: would be used for the other stuff: disks inserted here would usually contain more programs or utilities, text documents, or other types of data or work the user keeps.

After the OS had found its way to live in a hard drive, drive A: could be used for any normal, misc., external input and output of files and data: utilities and programs, documents and text files; drive B: was finally free to be used as a destination location if files from drive A: needed to be copied to another disk, namely the one in drive B:, using MS-DOS commands like DISKCOPY.

Admittedly, hard drives had not come built-in; operating systems and files had to be accessed from floppy disks, rendering the computer an expensive hollow data crunching box. No sooner had operating systems begun to gain complexity than hard drives began to be installed on all computers. This late arrival of hard drives has lent the hard drive and subsequent IDE drives a name of C:, D:, E:, and so on; a tradition which has continued until today.

After the previous step, you will immediately be flung here. These are user-based settings: configurations pertaining to you and your personal life. This should not be as intimate as the one you'd be expected to fill at a clinic.

MS-DOS stores the date you set in absolute local time, without converting it into UTC then storing it in the CMOS. This information could prove useful if you are dual-booting somehow. It's helpful to have the time and date configured correctly. Unlike MS-DOS versions 1 through to 3, the date and time is stored courtesy of the CMOS.

After that, you will want to tell it something about your country and localization so the system understands how to process real numbers (in US: 3.141592; in Sweden: 3,141592), currency (in US: $72; in Sweden: 72kr), and other things related to locality. The keyboard layout is also important; you will usually want to set this to what concurs with your physical keyboard layout lest you end up with a weird, seemingly malfunctioning keyboard.

From this point on, I will not mention that you can use the ENTER key to continue. Besides, this is already written on the blue walls of the setup.

The setup wizard will ask you where you wish to place the MS-DOS operating system. Such is the complexity of the operating system, it is behoved to reside on a hard drive; this hard drive is usually the drive C:, and the directory is usually \DOS. These are the default settings, and it's recommended that you leave them as-is unless you are cooking up a storm or tweaking your computer.

After the previous step, you will immediately be flung here. This is where you can allegedly fill out your registration card assuming you have one. In addition to that absurdity, this screen will only last for a few seconds, which is scarcely enough time to write anything, really.

To understand why this may seem absurd now, but not in the 1980s, see the next section.

A few seconds later, et voila! At this stage with the yellow progress bar, the setup will be adamant that you feed it with more floppy disks and will keep pesking you about it for a few times. All you need to do is keep feeding it with floppy disks; you need not worry about hard ejecting the floppy disks from your drive and inserting a new one because it will have already been unmounted when it prompts you to do so.

Then, not long after, you will find this screen which asks you to clear your drive of floppy disks. This is really rather important in order that unnecessary panic attacks be migitated; unless you remove all disk(s) from your floppy drives, the computer will fail to boot into the new operating system, because it will try to and hopelessly fail at booting up that pesky floppy disk drive that should have been removed, in lieu of making a valuable attempt at booting the actual operating system.

Once you've done, you will be rewarded with the good old Starting MS-DOS... greeting message, but then something will have changed: you will no longer see the blue wall! Bad news for lovers of the blues (no pun intended)!

However, you will instantly be flung into an uncanny stare-down between you and the computer's command prompt. Assuming you know MS-DOS commands, this should be a comfortable place for you. I, myself, know a few useful commands to get by, because I have been practicing them since I was about 9 or 10, I think. :P Don't you fret if you not know life in the command prompt; there are plenty of guides on MS-DOS command line available online — the challenge is choosing which one to stick with! :P

You may have noticed that some commands have been pre-typed, namely C:\DOS\SMARTDRV.EXE /X. This is normal and can be thought of as the autorun commands — commands that are run automatically every startup — which can be configured as an imperative list of commands in a file called AUTOEXEC.BAT in the root directory.

To get you pumped up for now, here are a few commands you can try on. I'll also give you the UNIX-like synonyms of each command; they may not work in the same way, though.

DIR — displays visible, not hidden, files on the current directory. Use DIR /P (the same command with the /P parameter) to pause the output every so often, if the output scrolls off screen. (UNIX: ls -l)

TREE — gives you a nice view of the directory tree. (UNIX: tree)

CD x — changes the working directory to the specified directory x. Let x be .. (2 dots) to navigate one directory backwards. If x is an argument not provided, it outputs the current working directory. (UNIX: cd x)

MOVE x y — moves file x to location y. (UNIX: mv x y)

COPY x y — copies file x to location y. (UNIX: cp x y)

REN x y or RENAME x y — renames file named x to y. (UNIX: mv x y)

DEL x — deletes file x; if x is a directory, only contents therein will be deleted. (UNIX: rm x)

DELTREE x — deletes a file or everything in a directory x recursively (UNIX: rm -r x)

RMDIR x — removes a directory x iff (= if and only if) it is bereft of contents. (UNIX: rmdir x)

FORMAT x — formats drive x. (UNIX: mkfs.fat x)

DISKCOPY x y — copies the entire contents of source drive x to destination drive y where both must exist. (UNIX: dd if=/dev/fd0 of=/dev/fd1)

ECHO x — displays the string x on the screen; if x is not given, a newline is displayed. (UNIX: echo x)

TYPE x — displays the content of a file x. (UNIX: cat x)

EDIT x — opens up the MS-DOS editor, editing a file named x, if it is given. (UNIX: vi x)

QBASIC x — opens up the MS-DOS QBASIC IDE for the QBASIC language; opens file x if it is given.

DATE — shows/sets the current date. (UNIX: date)

TIME — shows/sets the current time. (UNIX: date)

CLS — clears the screen. Use it when the screen gets too messy. (UNIX: clear or reset)

MSD — a diagnostic tool which displays admirable information about your installation.

HELP — built-in, interactive manual to MS-DOS. (Some UNIX systems: help)

VER — displays the version of the MS-DOS.

In no way is that an exhaustive list of all MS-DOS commands. If you should require a reference, see the HELP command. There are tonnes of other commands which I do not know of or are too complicated to explain on such a tiny blogpost like this one.

When working with files as arguments to the commands, paths are delimited using the backslash \, and the wildcard asterisk * can be used to globally match, much as glob patterns would work on the UNIX shell. The commands and the filenames do not need to be capitalized, although it is generally customary to do so. However, it is definitely not frowned upon to do otherwise!

There are two ways you can control the power to the machine:

CTRL+ALT+DEL to reboot. This key combination instantly reboots the machine, discarding any unsaved work of yours, if any. It works in almost all situations, so it can be useful when you want to get out of a halting program.

Power button once to shutdown. This isn't a trick, nor a way to forcibly shut down the computer. It's basically how you do it! You turn the computer on with the button and turn it off just as you would turn it on. On a virtual machine, you can just close the window and confirm that you will exit the virtual machine; everything will be fine. Your work will be gone if unsaved, though.

There are other utilities which use ACPI to assist reboot and shutdown without using the CTRL+ALT+DEL combination or the power button and also run on command-line. You are free to look those up if you want to, but apart from forcing you to safely quit all the running programs just to go to the DOS prompt and type the shutdown command, I see little use of it.

If you are coming from UNIX, you may well be familiar with the function of the up arrow on a shell: it goes backwards through the history of commands that have been typed. This isn't default DOS behaviour, although it can be simulated by running a daemon called DOSKEY. Simply type the DOSKEY command and it should work from the first command thereafter. If you want to get it to run on every boot-up, put it in AUTOEXEC.BAT.

Congratulations! You've officially set up your working and running MS-DOS machine. It's really rather bland right now; however, the next section covers some ways in which one can spice up the MS-DOS installation so as to make the most out of the DOS environment.

"God speed MS-DOS!"

Listen here, folks. Some of you may have already noticed that certain processes in the MS-DOS setup process and the Disk Operating System itself seems rather rushed and sped up: progress bars go flying off the screen within a second or two, leaving you no time to fill in any registration cards and whatnot. This is primarily because the designers at Microsoft had not expected you to run their operating system on a new and fast computer with a fast I/O (= Input/Output) for the installation disk.

For instance, on VirtualBox, the entire setup process can take only a minute or, at its worst, two. There are two reasons for this:

I/O of the virtual floppy disk images containing the MS-DOS setup utility is faster than I/O on physical floppy disks containing the same thing. Obviously, the I/O on virtual disk images will be faster because it is basically just gathering data from a file on your relatively high-speed host hard drive or SSD. Simply speaking, you are just reading off your hard drive or SSD, and the speed utterly depends on how fast your host's data storage system is. This is a significant factor for those running MS-DOS on a virtual machine. This axiom is true, ergo any I/O of any virtual floppy disk image containing anything will be as fast as reading from your host's disk.

Your computer is faster than what the MS-DOS team had expected. This is also another factor that may contribute to the speed of the DOS system in general. Apparently enough, computational speed has been increasing over time, and consequently, it is now much faster than when MS-DOS had made its arrival. This factor not only applies to virtual machines, but also applies to those modern computer systems with DOS on them.

This may sound a tad bit crazy, but there are utilities like SLOWDOS which attempts to slow the speed at which MS-DOS programs run, especially on fast computers where their running too fast can be a detriment. You may want to give that a look if the god speed bothers you.

Installation: The supplemental disk

MS-DOS 6.22 is undoubtedly the most stable and true version of the DOS series. It is the best it can be. However, it could have been better if Microsoft had not removed some utilities that had existed in DOS 5.0 and provided more extra utilities that DOS 6.22 should have had. Luckily enough, Microsoft responded, as it were, to this by releasing some supplemental tools on a separate floppy disk, which includes but is not limited to these utilities:

DOSSHELL (MS-DOS Shell) — a text-interface/graphical file manager and launcher. This had existed in MS-DOS 5.0, but was no sooner taken out than came the release of MS-DOS 6.22.

ADOS (Access DOS) — an accessibility program for DOS users with disabilities or issues using their computers.

Tools to create MS-DOS startup disks — this can be useful for recovery purposes. The resulting disk can be used on your computer and others' too!

Improved networking drivers — you can have Internet on DOS, yup.

MS-DOS 5.00 utilities that had been removed — Self-descriptive enough.

Dvorak keyboard support — Captain Obvious.

Those are all I can remember because they are quite significant to me, but you can see a full list of what is offered for yourself in the screenshots later on. Let us move on towards the steps of setting up the supplemental tools, or what I call additionals. The picture gallery for all these steps is provided.

Make sure you are at the DOS prompt, and it is ready to accept commands. Then, insert the supplemental disk, navigate to the A: drive, and check the contents of the disk using DIR /p just to appreciate the glorious repertoire of utilities, all of which are within your grasps. You'll quickly notice that nearly all the files have had extensions postfixed with an underscore (_); this is because they have been compressed. To uncompress and put them into your machine, see the subsequent steps...

Only once you have made sure that all files are ready, your computer is ready, and you are in for it, can you then invoke the setup utility with the SETUP command. The setup utility is a simple batch script that will decompress and copy the appropriate files with the appropriate settings into a specified path. Do type the command without any arguments first so as to review what it can provide and how you can interact with it.

Now that you know what you are into, run the SETUP command with all the valid arguments as guided in the previous briefing (usually C:\DOS). The setup will ask you a few questions. Answer them accordingly with what befits you. At this point, you can review once more what it can provide, and select how much provision you want on your computer.

Installing the whole package requires a "whopping" 1.4 megabytes — lol. :P If you are really short on space, you can select a few, or choose not to install at all (but why would you do that?)

My personal recommendation is that you should give DOSSHELL a try. It's not that useful, but it is a significant signpost that shows off the capability of the MS-DOS architecture and the extent of usefulness (or uselessness) to which the supplemental tools can become.

This looks important, and I daresay it is! You have the responsibility to choose the appropriate type of computer display you have so that the setup utility can pick and choose the appropriate drivers or packages that suit your display.

The worst case scenario of choosing the wrong display option is that one or more of the installed utilities could cease to run or look terrible on your display. For this reason, I suggest that you be prepared with basic background information concerning your hardware, so you can answer any questions that may come forth. If you are absolutely unsure, your display is very likely to be VGA. Choose that as a safest choice iff this step fills you with dismay.

After you have chosen your display type, setup will ask you to confirm your choice lest you not be sane enough. It's just a sanity check; if you think you are sane enough, continue as you wish.

No sooner will you have confirmed your choice than the setup will begin unpacking and copying necessary files into your computer. In the middle, you could be asked for your decision on replacing a file called ISO.CPI. If you are not doing anything fancy, I suggest that you should replace it, although the choice is entirely up to you.

Once the setup has finished, you will be flung back to the DOS prompt. Assuming everything goes well, you should be able to run and use the utilities of your choosing. Go ahead and try them now! Do not forget to try the DOS shell by invoking the DOSSHELL command (with 2 S's).

If things do not seem to work as planned (e.g., you have chosen the wrong display driver or the utilties are a mess), you can run the setup again with different settings.

Here is a non-exhaustive list of commands you can try on after you've installed the supplementals. These are the things that I know.

DOSSHELL — starts the MS-DOS shell.

ADOS — starts the Access DOS utility. This is useful for computer users with disabilities. Features include but are not limited to StickyKeys, Voice read-out.

EDLIN — a very primitive command-line text editor. It might be best left for experts because one can easily screw up.

Aftermath

For now you have a fully operable system, no better time has there been than this present moment to start reading up on the MS-DOS 6.22 built-in handbook via the HELP command. Things in DOS from here are really beset with text, but those texts are all in English, so, really, if you can read this blog post, you can understand MS-DOS. Aren't I right? ;)

After getting accustomed to the operating system, you can then move on to installing other utilities or programs onto your setup, which allow for work on a wider domain. Indeed, there are more powerful stuff than what the MS-DOS core and supplemental tools can provide. They include but are not limited to:

Borland C++ — for the programmers who are eager to code in C/C++. This is an IDE equipped with libraries, a geeky user interface, and its own compiler.

Microsoft Basic — for the programmers who are eager to code in BASIC. Likewise, this is an IDE with libraries, a geeky user interface, and its own compiler (or interpreter?). I believe this was deemed a necessary introduction in university/college programming modules.

Corel WordPerfect or WordStar — for people who are eager to write in an old-fashioned environment. These are good word processors.

LOTUS 1-2-3 — a really popular spreadsheet tool with presentations and charts.

Microsoft Works — a primitive office suite, featuring a word processor, spreadsheet, communications, etc.

DOOM — if you hate productivity, you should definitely give this game a try. It's a game where you shoot bad guys up. Since I'm not into games, that is all I know about it.

There are lots of other stuff that are well worth trying, but I'm just a mere mortal who cannot provide an exhaustive list thereof.

There is a rich demoscene culture behind MS-DOS. Demoscenes are programs with visual and sound effects aimed at showing off the coding effort of a particular team so as to see to it that the audio-visuals are eye-pleasing even on such a low-level system like DOS. These are usually coded in low-level languages like Assembly so that they can tap into the advanced, hidden parts of the system like 3D graphics and sound. They include:

Second Reality by Future Crew — a demoscene with the best audiovisuals I've ever seen. It requires quite a bit of memory, so you might want to run MEMMAKER to free up some memory. You will also need Soundblaster or a compatible sound card to play the audio.

Panic by Future Crew — a runner-up to Second Reality. Again, it requires some memory and a compatible appropriate soundcard.

Impulse Tracker — I know, I know — this is not a demoscene: it's a music tracker. It's still useful if you are eager to make music in the same way that the demosceners had done. So, why not give it a try? It needs a compatible soundcard, though.

More often than not, compatible sound cards include Soundblaster 16. It's so generic. :P

Speaking of soundcards, multimedia is really rather limited on MS-DOS unless you choose to install drivers for them. With appropriate hardware and their appropriate MS-DOS drivers, one can literally see to it that there be CD/DVD/Blu-ray support, Internet, sound, graphics, printing and plotting, and whatnot on a mere MS-DOS system. Yes, I did mention Internet. It's possible, but I haven't tried it yet. If you do get Internet right, you could browse the world-wide-web with ARACHNE, share files via a workgroup, or even run a 16-bit webserver. The trouble is getting the right hardware and the right drivers for it, especially nowadays.

Once again, there are lots of other stuff that are well worth trying, but I'm just a mere mortal who cannot provide an exhaustive list thereof.

As you go on topping-up your MS-DOS system, it is important to watch out for viruses that may come embedded with the stuff you download for your MS-DOS setup. Built-in tools like MSAV and VSAFE offer a basic layer of protection; do use that via their respective commands, and also do some research on how you can keep yourself safe. Their user interfaces are logical and follow intuition. VSAFE is a daemon that loads on the background.

As you keep striking out with all the daemons in the background, and the demoscenes and programs up and running, you will eventually find the need to be aware of the memory consumption. MS-DOS is a short-sighted operating system that only offers 640 KB of RAM due to technical microprocessor limitations. You can get more information about your system's memory with the MEM command, which shows how much memory you have (total), use (usage), and have left (free). If you are in need of memory, you can use MEMMAKER, an intuitive utility allowing you to free up some memory.

You will also need to be careful with your hard drive. Over time, hard drives do fail; for instace, I replaced my old 500GB drive on my laptop with a 1TB one after having used the old one for a mere 5 years. They can also become corrupt for some reason we may not know or be aware of. It is important to occasionally run disk checks with SCANDISK, which is intuitive enough to be used by an average Joe. The tool is also useful on other media too: other harddrives, floppy disks, etc.

If you have got bored of working on MS-DOS, but still want to maintain the DOS-feel, you could give Windows versions 1 to 3.11 a try. These historic versions of Windows require MS-DOS to run properly because it basically just sits on top of it, and they basically extend MS-DOS with some more graphical stuff. Since Windows is such a big subject and certain programs do rely on Windows as another stratum, it does require a separate area of discourse apropos of it; so, if you are interested in it, give me a shout out, and I may as well make a tutorial like this one about Windows on MS-DOS. Needless to say, Windows on DOS does consume quite a lot of memory, so be prepared for what you are going into! Personally, I find Windows 3.11 the most attractive because it feels like the best those series could ever be. I have a neat picture of my Windows setup below.

Once you are comfortable enough working with your MS-DOS system, you might as well consider editting and playing around with your AUTOEXEC.BAT and CONFIG.SYS. You can easily edit them with the built-in text editor EDIT. Honestly, I have to admit I'm still scared of going into those files. :P

Conclusion

Congratulations! You have just finished installing and perhaps gone on to customizing a fully operable MS-DOS that is primed and ready for real-world applications — in the past. Admittedly, this one single blog post is not enough to enlighten you to the full domain of MS-DOS computing, so let alone historic computing and the inner-workings thereof itself; however, it is a great start, indeed.

I know MS-DOS isn't quite useful nowadays, but getting to install such an epitomic marvel of computing of its time can really be an eye-openner into the known history of computers and the deeper inner-workings of computer systems, and it may also make you feel nostalgic by unlocking past memories of computing during childhood or the teen years, which is an excellent feeling, especially now in the 21st century.

Anecdotally speaking, I have always been fascinated by the black box that we call MS-DOS since I first saw it when I was 7 years old; I played around with it and quickly picked up the commands, and then I became more and more passionate about it, the more I could understand it. MS-DOS is not a very stable, let alone current, operating system; however, since I had had some experience with it, this skill further aided my journey into modern computing, which still requires the quintessential knowledge of the inner-workings of computer systems, and the command-line, especially on UNIX-like environments, with which I work daily. Furthermore, apropos of the nostalgicism mentioned earlier, starting up MS-DOS and playing with it for a half hour always gives me peace of mind, reminding me of my childhood with less responsibilities.

To conclude, although the practical usage isn't at all useful in this time and age, the skillsets attained from it certainly is, as I have so proven. If anybody is interested in the inner-workings of computer systems and is enthusiastic enough to give it a full-on shot, then I recommend beginning with the history of computing, whereby focusing on the key aspects of the intricacy of such systems, without the boring jargons presented by typical history books in grade school classes. In the end, even though you get some historic background of computing, it isn't a history subject: it is a beautiful part of a significant journey into computing. Most people fail to see this, though, proving that it is really true: beauty is in the eye of the beholder. MS-DOS and historical computing is beautiful, wherefore we seek it, wherefore I seek it.

Special thanks

I'd like to give special thanks to my mom and my best friends who have always been here, especially while writing this blog post; I'd usually spend upwards of 2 hours writing pieces of this post daily for 3-4 days. Should there ever be any misinformation, controversy, or anything that troubles you, please contact me very, very nicely.

And of course, I'd like to give special thanks to those readers who have read this post thus far. You are a hero for having read a total of 8401 words and 48.723 kilobytes of this prose of mine. Thank you for going through it with me, because to me, writing really takes me on a journey, which allows me to explore the subject in which I'm writing, in a heavenly and peaceful way. It's like reading a good book and your mind is flying about in terra incognita; you just can't put down! :)

I hope that this post has helped you in some way and that you enjoyed reading it inasmuch as I have enjoyed writing it for you.

—— Linus Björk (June, 21, 2017)