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on-my-vigilante-sht · 2 months

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Forced Love III

John Wick x Reader

Summary: Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in the crime world but John Wick never expected to be forced into one with is boss' daughter.

Chapter Summary: After an attack on his wife, John decides he needs to retire. But retired life isn't as safe as he thought it was.

Warning: Minimal use of Y/N, canon level violence (this is where it starts to get actually violent), sibling rivalry, mentions of SA, cursing, betrayal, medical stuff

Word Count: 5.2K

Masterlist

Two years later, the couple found themselves at yet another “charity ball.” Viggo’s daughter had been a regular attendee since she was seventeen and he decided she could handle being him for a night. But for the past two years, John Wick had been regularly added to the guest list as more than just a bodyguard. Of course he still acted like a bodyguard, but now he was more present. Rather than skulk in the shadows, he was practically glued to his wife’s hip, remaining silent and sending glares to all the dangerous people of the crime world who would dare pose a threat to Mrs. Wick.

“Stop scaring people,” she lightly reprimanded her husband. “I have work to do.”

He kept the smile tugging at his lips off his face, still scanning the room. “It’s not my fault they’re intimidated by my presence alone,” he shrugged.

She just rolled her eyes, going back to scouring the crowd for other members of the Russian crime syndicate. Although other Russian families were supposed to be her allies, the Tarasov family had been in a few small turf wars with other branches of their crime syndicate, making Y/N wary. But she didn’t show it. She was Viggo Tarasov’s daughter, this was New York, her turf. And the guard dog behind her made sure everyone knew it.

Spying one of her uncles, Alexi Petrov, who had been a problem over by the East River, she approached with a bright smile on her face. “Дядя,” she greeted.

A smile came over his face as well. “Y/N, how good to see you,” he greeted his niece. “I haven’t seen you since your wedding.”

“Yes, that’s right. And you remember my husband? John Wick?” she introduced, stepping to the side.

John stepped forward, reaching out to shake his hand. He purposely let his suit jacket fall open so the lesser Russian mob boss could see the gun resting inside. Petrov also grabbed John’s arm in an intimidation tactic, but only found a knife tucked into the assassin’s sleeve. “It’s nice to see you again,” John greeted.

“Likewise,” Petrov replied. “How’s your father?” he asked his niece, eager to be the thorn in his older cousin’s side.

“He’s well. Having a little trouble with your cousin out west but it shouldn’t be a problem for us.”

“Yes, well I’d hate if you lost control of your ports,” he said smugly.

“Aw well aren’t you just a doll,” she said sweetly, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waitress. “Just a tip, you may want to give your guys a heads up. Word is, The Boogeyman is after them.” She then leaned up on her toes, giving him a familial peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon,” she smiled before turning, John following after her.

The rest of the night full of thinly veiled threats went smoothly until it didn’t. Suddenly, the lights went out and before John could pull his wife closer, acting as her human shield, a man appeared from the crowd, sending a knife into Y/N Wick’s stomach. The mercenary didn’t even get a chance to tell his boss the job was done because The Boogeyman’s knife was disemboweling him a second later.

The lights came back on quickly. Every gun in the room was raised but no shots had been fired. The night’s guests understood why there was a blackout when they saw the mercenary choking on his own blood on the ground, and John Wick clutching his wife’s side desperately trying to stop the bleeding. Suddenly Kirill appeared in the crowd. “We’re tailing Petrov, catch him!” he yelled, taking his charge into his arms. “I’ll get her help.” John nodded, reluctant to leave his wife but he still very much wanted revenge. He ran towards the back exit, gun already drawn, ready to drag his prey practically into hell.

Meanwhile, his wife desperately wanted some comfort as she realized what had happened to her. “John?” she called after him.

“Hey,” Kirill caught her attention, “he’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. The ambulance will be here soon,” he assured. She nodded, seemingly understanding and cooperative. Surrounding them were other employees of the Tarasov family, ushering the crowd away from the injured girl. Which created enough of a clearing that she could see her attacker. She began hyperventilating upon seeing her still alive attacker, groaning in agony with his guts spilled across the floor. Upon noticing her terrified expression, Kirill blocked her view, pushing her head to face in the other direction as he angled his body to block the sight. “Calm down,” he tried to reassure the girl. “You are nowhere near as bad as him, John made sure of that. You’re just gonna get some stitches and you’ll be up and walking in no time.”

She nodded as best as she could, tears streaming down her face as her father’s loyal employee kept her head turned away. Just as her pain became seemingly unbearable, the paramedics arrived, pushing their way through the still clamoring crowd. She couldn’t see much, her vision going hazy, all she could see were many people in uniforms surrounding her, passing medical equipment between each other. She was then jolted into reality by the absolute agony of being lifted onto the gurney. She had sent John to the doctor with stab and bullet wounds so many times, she had no idea how he managed to still be up and moving around. She shortly lost consciousness after being wheeled outside.

John had managed to catch Alexi Petrov—the idiot had run on foot with no backup and no getaway driver. He thought he’d be able to run to the Continental and just regroup from there. But John caught him easily, leaving him hog-tied in a Tarasov SUV. “No one touches him until I get back from the hospital. Got it?” he demanded from one of the drivers.

“Of course,” he assured, getting into the car and driving off towards Viggo’s building.

John, in turn, hailed a taxi, getting a ride to the hospital. In the waiting room was a guard. Upon seeing John walk in, the guard stood up. “She’s in room 514,” he told the assassin. He gave a nod of thanks before heading to the elevator.

Once he reached the fifth floor, he went to the door that had yet another guard outside of it. He let John in, no questions asked, leaving John in the room with just Viggo and an empty space where a hospital bed should be. John immediately began to fear the worst: that his wife had died or that Viggo had taken her away from him, deeming him not good enough for his daughter.

“Relax,” the mob boss said, “she’s in surgery. That bastard nicked her kidney so now they have to go in and repair it.”

“Oh…” John said. He had dealt with more than his fair share of stabs. But he had been lucky, they were all flesh wounds.

“I heard you caught Petrov. Good work. I assume he’s tied up in my basement awaiting your arrival?”

“He is,” John agreed. “No one is allowed to touch him until I’m there.”

Viggo nodded. “Sounds about right. He better pray his heart gives out. They said the assassin was still breathing when Charlie went to go pick him up.”

John nodded, considering his next words. “This life isn’t safe for her anymore and you know it.”

“I know,” Viggo agreed, remembering the loss of Iosef’s mother. This world wasn’t kind to women. They were seen as leverage amongst many of the older criminals.

“She won’t be safe as long as I’m still involved.”

“You’re asking for an impossible thing,” Viggo countered. John didn’t say anything, just continued to stare. He needed to get out of this life for her. “An impossible thing requires an impossible task.” Viggo then laid out five names and a time constraint of one night.

“It’ll be done by Sunday night,” John assured. “I just have a few things to take care of beforehand.”

Viggo nodded before standing up, heading for the door. “Good luck, John.” The assassin just watched him go. He wasn’t going to stay for his own daughter?

After another hour, the door finally opened and the orderlies wheeled in his wife’s hospital bed. John stood up as soon as she came in, trying to go to her but the doctor intercepted. “The anesthesia should wear off within the hour but overall, she’ll be fine. We saved her kidney and she should make a full recovery in about a month.”

John thanked the doctor, going over to his wife’s side. He grasped her hand, holding it to his chest as he began to break. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” he cried. The guilt weighed heavily on his soul, he had broken his vow to her that he had made right after they were married. “But we’re gonna be safe soon. I’ll make sure of it.”

Just like the doctor promised, an hour later the hand that was intertwined with John’s squeezed his fingers slightly. “Y/N,” he whispered, snapping to attention. His fingers squeezed in return, looking for some sort of assurance that he hadn’t made the movement up. And when her eyes peeled themselves open, John swore he had never been happier. “Oh thank god,” he breathed, his head falling onto the bed in relief.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay,” she assured her husband, her hand pulling out of his embrace so she could thread her fingers through his hair. “The doctors said it was an easy fix.”

The assassin took a few deep breaths before lifting his head up to look at her. “I can’t let anything like this happen ever again,” he swore.

“John, I’m fine. It’s not your fault.”

“I’ve made a lot of enemies. And one of these days it won’t be a random knife attack from a family member you pissed off. One day, someone’s actually going to try to kill you for being my wife.”

“What are you saying?” she demanded, fearing the worst.

Reading her face and the fact that the EKG was beeping faster, John’s face softened as he went to comfort his wife. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m not leaving you,” he assured. “No. I, uh, asked your father for retirement. After I finish one thing.”

“What are you finishing?” she asked. Any relaxation she was feeling after her husband’s assurance was fading away as she conjured up images of what her father could possibly be making John do.

“Don’t worry about it. Caterina is gonna take you home. I’ll be home in a couple days and then we’re gonna get a new place. Away from the city,” John explained calmly, stroking her hair soothingly.

“John, what are you doing?” she demanded, tears beginning to prick her eyes out of fear for her husband.

“Everything is going to be okay,” he assured. “Soon enough we’ll have a house out in the country and we’ll have peace. Together.” He stood up, getting ready to leave. But first, he leaned down to press a kiss to his wife’s forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she cried. “Please come back to me.”

“I will,” he assured before walking out.

After a miserable rest of the day in the hospital, she was finally released and Caterina finally came to get her. “Oh ягодка,” Caterina exclaimed as she entered the hospital room. Her cousin was already sat up, struggling to lean down enough to get her shoes on despite the fact that she was still only wearing a hospital gown. “I brought you some clothes.”

“Thanks,” she said, standing up. She had no pain standing up or walking given all the pain meds she was on, but any movement in her torso made her feel like her skin was going to be torn open. She took the clothes from her cousin before hobbling into the bathroom. With some creative solution and heavy leaning on the numerous handrails in the bathroom, the heiress has managed to dress herself. She had no idea how people like John managed to suffer through wounds like this and keep going like they weren’t stabbed or shot. “That wasn’t easy,” she said, hobbling out of the bathroom.

Caterina gave her a sympathetic look before standing up with a bright smile. She then pointed to the wheelchair that had been placed by the door. Y/N opened her mouth to argue but Caterina held her finger up like she was shushing a child. “Don’t argue with me. I’m not gonna get stabbed by John just because you tripped and tore open your stiches.”

She didn’t even bother arguing, sitting in the chair with a huff. Caterina gave a triumphant smile, wheeling the chair out of the room before passing her cousin off to an awaiting guard. As Caterina and the guard chatted idly, Y/N was lost in thought, worrying for John. She knew that in order to buy their freedom, John would have to do an impossible thing. Her husband was the best, they called him Baba Yaga—the one you sent to kill the boogeyman. But he was still human, he could still be killed and that was a horrifyingly sober reality.

Once they arrived at Viggo’s main building, they pulled into the ground floor garage. The first floor of a building was a designated garage for his family and employees. But the floor under that was a dungeon of sorts. It’s where Viggo sent his enemies and prisoners to be interrogated, punished, executed, whatever sort of bloody business he had. Viggo’s daughter had never once been down there, but as she was wheeled past the lower level entrance, towards the elevator, she caught sight of the cleaning van. And conveniently, the “cleaners” were carrying up several bags wrapped on multiple layers. “Who was that?” she asked the guard, waiting for the elevator.

“It’s none of your concern, miss,” the guard simply dismissed.

But his lack of cooperation wasn’t a concern because Charlie had come up to the garage level. “Mrs. Wick, it’s good to see you,” he said through a bright smile as he walked over. “I’m glad to see you out of the hospital so soon. Based on what John did to Petrov, I thought you’d be down for at least a week.”

“Uh, no I’m fine,” she stuttered out. “Did you talk to John?” she asked, desperate for some sort of clue of where her husband was.

“Only briefly,” Charlie answered. “I have to go, but I’m glad to see you, Mrs. Wick.” And with that, he headed back to his van while she was pulled into the elevator.

The next twenty-four hours were agonizing for her as she wondered where her husband was or if he was even still alive. Sometimes she sat quietly in her room, waiting to hear the sound of gunfire or sirens wailing but the city seemed silent that night. She didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. Caterina had tried to keep her distracted for most of the night but eventually gave up, going home to get some much needed sleep. And when Viggo tried to speak to his daughter, she just screamed at him for giving her husband an impossible task that could very well get him killed.

But when John Wick returned in the wee hours of the morning, the first person to see him was his wife. He took the stairs all the way up to their floor of the building, wanting to remain unseen. He first went to the bedroom, finding the sheets disheveled and a few books on the ground—relics of the fight Viggo had with his daughter when she threw several things at him, screaming at him to leave. Next, he went to their sitting room, nothing. Before he checked any of the guest or specialty rooms, he went to the kitchen. There, he found his wife brewing a pot of coffee. He whispered her name softly but it was easily heard in the dark of the night.

“Oh my god, John,” she cried, immediately throwing herself into his arms. She always worried for him when he was working but she had never been this scared.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” he assured her, clutching her body to his tightly. “I’m done. I’m out. I’ll always be with you from here on out,” he promised. “There’s a house out in New Jersey I think you’ll like. It’s got big windows and a pool.”

She smiled at his offer. “I’m sure I’ll love it.” She then pulled away, taking the chance to inspect her husband. Even in the dark of the kitchen she could see the blood soaking through his shirt. “Please tell me this isn’t your blood,” she demanded from him.

“Not all of it,” he admitted, slightly sheepishly.

“Here, sit,” she said, directing him to one of the bar stools. He complied as she flipped on the lights and grabbed their borderline surgical first aid kit from one of the cabinet. Unless John knew he actually needed serious surgery, he would just insist that his wife patch him up. She began unbuttoning his shirt, finding his bulletproof vest underneath. “At least you wore your vest,” she said, finding bullet holes in it. She went to push it off his shoulders but gasped when she found a bullet in his shoulder, blood spewing from the wound. “John!”

“I’m fine. It’s close to the surface. You just have to pull it out and stich it up.”

She sent him a slight glare as she carefully pulled the vest off of his body. She had told him to go to the doctor so many times but he always refused so she just stopped arguing. Heading to the opposite side of the kitchen, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey and rubbing alcohol. She handed the drink to her husband before pouring some of the rubbing alcohol onto some gauze and beginning to clean the wound. He thanked her for the drink as she started sterilizing the other equipment.

“Yeah, well I figured you’d refuse pain meds.”

“I don’t like how they make me feel.”

“Okay tough guy,” she teased, prodding around his wound looking for the bullet. “Is this it?” she asked, feeling a hard lump.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Use the forceps to dig up towards it and grab it. Don’t stop until you get it out no matter what I say.”

“Okay,” she uttered nervously as she grabbed the forceps. Steeling herself, she dug into the wound for a few minutes trying to get a grip on the bullet. The entire time, John stayed still except for letting out a few groans of pain. “I’m sorry,” she apologized every time one of her movements made him cry out.

“It’s okay, keep going,” he assured her, taking a deep swig from the bottle of whiskey.

After a few more moments of struggling, she finally managed to pry it out. She then stitched up his shoulder before moving on. “Any other stab wounds or bullet holes I should know about?” she asked.

“No, just some bruising from the bullets,” he said, getting off the stool.

“Go get in the shower,” she told her husband. “I’ll clean this up and get you something for the bruising.” But before she could walk away, John grabbed her wrist, holding her in place.

“Hey, you also have a major wound. Sit down, let me check your stiches,” he told her.

“John I’m fine. The doctors did them.”

“Please?” he begged, wanting to make sure his wife was okay. So she reluctantly sat down, lifting her shirt enough to reveal the bandages covering her stiches. The assassin peeled the bandage up as his wife hissed in pain at the tugging of her still sensitive skin. Once he had removed the bandage, he inspected the stitches. “Yeah, looks like this bandage needed to be changed a couple hours ago.”

“Oh…” she said, her voice hollow. “I kind of lost track of time since you told me what you were doing.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he said, wiping down her stiches with rubbing alcohol and prepping more bandages.

“Don’t be. You got us out. And I’ll be grateful for you for forever because of that.”

After he taped down the new bandage, he stood up, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

“Now, about that shower?” he asked suggestively.

“John!” she yelled, lightly smacking his shoulder. “You have a bullet wound and I have a stab wound!”

Five years later, the couple found themselves in a seemingly idyllic life. They had settled in that beautiful home in New Jersey that John had found them. Y/N had taken up a job as a journalist for a small lifestyle magazine. She didn’t need the money, John had made more than enough for them to live on for the rest of their lives, but she wanted something to do other than just lounge around the house all day. Similarly, John had started an informal business of buying beat up, classic cars and restoring them to sell. Beyond a Christmas card from Viggo, they had no connections to their previous lives so nothing could drag them back into the deep.

“Hey,” Y/N said, knocking on the side of the garage as she entered, “I was gonna go to the farmer’s market to get stuff for dinner. Wanna come?”

“Yeah,” John said, standing up while wiping the oil from his hands, “just let me get cleaned up real quick.”

“Okay,” she smiled.

As John walked into the house to wash his hands, he pressed a kiss to his wife’s forehead, making sure to keep his greasy hands clear from her. She giggled as she watched him go inside, waiting for him. “We can take the Mustang,” he said, already grabbing the keys. She stepped outside, past the old Chevelle he was working on, towards John’s vintage Mustang. It was his pride and joy. Sometimes she thought he loved it more than he loved her.

Once they arrived, they headed to the stands, looking for the ingredients for their dinner. As they walked through the crowd, John couldn’t help but go back to his roots. Always looking around for a threat, making sure his wife was close to him and safe. While slipping into domestic bliss was easy for her as she had picked up a job and made a few friends, John had struggled. He wasn’t used to people without cruel intentions and not being known as the most dangerous person in the room. But this is what he wanted and in time, he had really came to love his settled life. He even became friendly with a few of the dads in town, most of them eager to see whatever new toy John would fix up and sell next. They continued through the farmer’s market without incident just like their lives had gone for the past five years: completely without incident.

“So, what are you making?” John asked, placing the bags of groceries on the counter.

“Seriously? You couldn’t guess based on the ingredients?” his wife asked, disappointed in her husband’s cooking knowledge.

“No,” he admitted. “Cooking wasn’t one of the classes at assassin school,” he joked.

His wife shook her head and tsked. “When will they learn that even highly trained assassins need life skills?” she joked. “Okay, I am making you barbecue cajun salmon with mango salsa.”

John smiled. One of his favorite things about getting away from the crime world was the discovery that his wife was actually an amazing cook despite the fact that every meal of her life had been prepared for her. “Sounds good. Do you need any help?”

She went to the bag of produce, putting them all into a bowl. “Can you wash and chop these into cubes?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, taking the food. He went over to the sink, rinsing off all the fruits and vegetables before grabbing the cutting board. While he was doing that, she was preparing the salmon and the glaze to put in the oven. They worked in mostly comfortable silence, just enjoying one another’s company as they prepared their dinner. Occasionally, one would creep up on the other in order to wrap their arms around their partner’s waist and attack the side of their face with kisses.

That night they cuddled on their couch, dinner finished and their dishes sitting in the sink. Her head rested on his chest, his arm wrapped around her shoulder to keep her close. “Hey, so I have a buyer out in Pennsylvania for the Chevelle so I’ll be out all day tomorrow,” John told his wife.

“Okay,” she mused, already half asleep listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart. “I’ve got a few articles I should catch up on so maybe I can get some work done without you distracting me,” she teased.

John smiled, holding his wife closer and pressing his nose into her hair. “Not my fault you’re distracted by me,” he defended with a laugh, which earned him a light smack against his arm.

By dinner time the next day, Y/N had completed all of her articles. She had been right in her assessment, she was way more productive when John wasn’t constantly assaulting her with kisses. Just as she was considering whether she should cook dinner or just order takeout, she heard a window shatter.

All of the self-preservation training John had instilled in her kicked in and she immediately ran to the closet that was in the office. Once she had locked herself in, she realized how dumb she was for not grabbing her phone to call 911. But since this was probably a simple robbery, she decided it’d be safer to stay hidden. The burglars probably assumed no one was in the house and would be in and out as soon as possible. Sure, John would be pissed when he learned someone had broken into their home, but he’d be even more pissed if she tried to intervene and got hurt in the process. She remembered the night she got stabbed all too well. The man who had done it and the man who ordered it both suffered long, agonizing deaths.

As she continued to hide in the closet, she listened for any sign of them leaving. She couldn’t hear anything except for the occasional door opening or something being smashed. When they finally reached the office, she held her breath, just waiting for them to grab her laptop or something in leave. But then the door of the closet opened and her body went cold. It was like her entire body had been drained as she stared up at the man wearing a ski mask. “I found her!” he shouted before dragging her out of the closet.

She immediately began screaming and struggling in protest but these men were clearly trained because he held her in a way that none of her defensive moves could escape. The man dragged her out of the office, into the living room where she found two other men standing, both wearing ski masks and holding baseball bats. She was thrown to their feet, breathing heavily as she looked up at them. “Who are you?” she managed to choke out through terrified sobs. “We have money, just please don’t hurt me.”

The slimmest man, standing to the side began to laugh like a comic book villain. “Trust me, we don’t need your money. I just need you gone,” he said. Before she could ask what he meant, the man pulled off his mask, revealing the face of her half brother.

“Iosef, what are you-” But before she could finish her sentence, he was bringing his baseball bat down onto her. He struck her ribs and she immediately knew he had cracked at least some as pain exploded in her ribs.

“I’m not letting you take what is rightfully mine,” her brother spat as he brought the mask back over his head. The other two then began bringing their bats down on her body, trying to beat her to death. All she could do between the screams and sobs was try to protect her head as they assaulted her body. But the man behind her cracked his bat against the back of her head like a golf club. Her hands took the brunt of the force but it was still incredibly painful to have hear hands smashed in.

She screamed in pain as they continued their assault until she was sure she was going to die right there. Eventually her screams stopped as her lungs felt like they had collapsed in on themselves. She was sure all her ribs were shattered and all her internal organs had ruptured from the blows.

When she stopped screaming they stopped beating her. Iosef had stopped beating her long ago, leaving the work up to his henchmen despite the fact that this had been his idea. Once the beatings stopped, one of Iosef’s friends pushed her so she was now laying on her back. He laughed seeing her bruised, bleeding, and tear stained face. Reaching down to her pants, he began undoing the buttons. She wanted to tell him to stop but she physically couldn’t pull in enough air to form a word. Fortunately for her, Iosef happened to turn back around at that moment.

“No! What are you doing man? That’s my sister,” he cried. Not out of defense of his sister, simply because he was grossed out by it. “C’mon let’s finish the job. Her husband will be home soon.” The prince of the mob then pulled out a large hunting knife, sauntering over to where his sister laid on the floor, coughing and spitting up her own blood. “Sorry to do this,” he said mockingly, leaning down close to her face. “But you leave me no choice. You won’t be inheriting dad’s business now.” And with those final words, he drove the knife into the center of his sister’s chest, leaving the blade impaled in her to send a message. “Let’s go!” he ordered his lackeys as they ran out to the car, shouting in celebration.

Meanwhile, Y/N laid in a puddle of blood on her own living room floor. As she stared up at the ceiling, her vision fading, she began to pray for the first time in her life. She prayed mostly for John. That he’d be okay and he’d be able to continue his life not drowning in grief, revenge, or guilt. She just wanted him to be happy, he deserved to be happy.

Masterlist

#john wick x reader #john wick #keanuverse #keanu reeves #x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #forced marriage #arranged marriage #marriage #au #mob

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flurrys-creativity · 9 months

Text

Internecine

internecine (adj.) - mutually destructive

Pairing: Johnny Suh (NCT) x GN!Reader; Genre: SpyxFamily AU, Secret Agent AU, Crime AU, Romance, Angst; Rating: sfw, pg-15; Warnings: mentions of a secret agency, use of codenames, yelling, losing a kid, mentions of a hostage situation, fighting, bad dogs, more fighting, police, a kiss; Wordcount: 2.704

Summary: A spy was supposed to stay unattached, yet Johnny had to get a family for his mission. When his fake wife called in tears, Johnny immediately rushed to her aid. Though he would never admit his attachment to her. Of course.

A/N: Sooooo over a year ago @mingsolo @daemour and I talked about idols fitting the Loyd Forger role and somehow we all agreed on writing each our suggestions with a fitting situation based on Spy x Family. I know @mingsolo waited a loooong time for us to finish and I honestly don’t know where the inspiration suddenly came from but boom, here we are!

“Midnight! Are you even listening?”

Johnny flinched from the booming voice addressing him. He turned his attention back to the boss of the organisation, looking at him with expectant eyes as if he didn’t just drift off with his thoughts.

But how couldn’t he? Ari had made incredible progress at school, even more than Johnny had hoped for and when they celebrated it at home Mark gave her the ridiculous idea that she wanted a pet.

Johnny sighed internally, remembering how he barely even tried to tell her no. As soon as the water works started, he just couldn’t do anything about it. So he reluctantly agreed, letting Ari go to the adoption fair with you.

Now he couldn’t think of anything else. At first Johnny thought this would be the perfect time for him to update the organisation about his mission but instead of listening to the new intel he was supposed to receive, he only thought about you and Ari instead.

Ari had already been the target of some thugs before and other bad guys had seen your face when you two met for that date.

A small smile spread over his lips, remembering how he mixed up missions and introduced himself as your husband instead of your boyfriend. You had played along so easily, making the scene a whole lot less awkward.

Even though Johnny knew you were able to defend yourself it was something totally different with a six year old in tow. He remembered how limited his own movements got when he had to rescue Ari once.

“Midnight! I am talking to you!”

Johnny’s eyes widened, surprised he drifted off with his thoughts yet again. This wasn’t like him. What was it about you that made him lose his mind on an almost daily basis?

Sure, he and the success of his mission most importantly were dependent on you two. Without you his mission would fail but more often than not Johnny had started to wonder whether his thoughts were more than just because of the success. He caught himself doing things for Ari or you that had nothing to do with the mission. Things that wouldn’t even work towards the success of it and yet he still did them.

Like carrying Ari to bed, covering your sleeping form with a blanket. Johnny stopped trying to carry you as well after he learned you were a light sleeper and always tried to attack him whenever he picked you up. Unless you had something to drink. You quickly got tipsy, which was quite adorable in his opinion, and got even slightly dangerous when drunk, but as soon as you got knocked out from the alcohol you slept like a baby.

His supervisor was about to yell at him again when his phone started to ring loudly.

Johnny lurched forward and grabbed his phone, accepting the call as soon as he saw your ID on the screen. “Y/N? Hey!” Without even noticing Johnny clutched the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white, staring off into the distance with wide eyes as he impatiently waited for you to say something. Adrenaline rushed through his system from the building worry inside his stomach. Which made it even harder for him to hear anything besides his own rapid heartbeat.

“I’m so sorry”, you hiccuped, “we were looking at some snakes together but when I turned around Ari was suddenly gone. I can’t find her.”

“I’m on my way!” Johnny snatched his stuff from the table and rushed out of the room, ignoring the calls behind him and the weird stares he received. All he could focus on was getting to you as fast as possible.

You heard the shouts on the other end of the call, followed by the echo of quick steps and Johnny trying to talk to you while breathing heavily. You then heard the beep of an unlocking car and the slam of a door, before the soft rumble of the engine filled your ear.

“What if she ran outside?”

Johnny barely heard your mumbling between your sniffling. “If that’s the case we’ll look for her together. I’ll be there in five minutes, okay? Wait for me!”

You ran out of the fair, still clutching the phone to your ear as you paced the street up and down. Your gaze skipped around the area, hoping to see that familiar mop of hair.

The second Johnny turned into the street of the fair his eyes landed on your wandering form. He parked the car and jumped out, rushing over to you. Johnny grabbed both your shoulders and quickly scanned you from head to toe, making sure you were unharmed, before he pulled you into a bone crushing hug.

You wrapped your arms around his middle and hid your face in his chest, apologising over and over again for losing Ari.

Johnny patted your head reassuringly, slowly calming you down with his soothing aura and deep voice. “It’s going to be alright. We’re going to find Ari. Don’t worry, love.” He held you for a moment longer, waiting until you felt ready to let go of him.

With new determination you stepped back and nodded. “She must still be at the fair. I guess I wasn’t as thorough as I thought in my panic.”

Before you could apologise again, Johnny interrupted you: “It’s alright. Two pairs of eyes are better than one, so let us go and check again.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the large building of the fair.

Though when he wanted to push the door open, it didn’t budge. A frown appeared on his face as he tried pulling the door and it still didn’t move a bit.

“Could they have closed this quickly?” You wondered out loud, your gaze wandering along the glass front that was now covered up. “I could have sworn ten minutes ago I was still able to see all the different puppies and kitties through the windows.”

“Something isn’t right”, Johnny grumbled and pulled you along the building. “Did you notice anything odd when you first arrived at the fair today?”

You frowned in thought, eyes skipping from side to side as you recounted your memories. “Not really” - you shook your head - “Ari met a lot of her classmates and their parents but that’s it.”

“How many?”

“Maybe ten? I don’t know, I got nervous introducing myself to their parents.” You bit on your lower lip and tried your hardest to remember every encounter you had. A deep sigh escaped your mouth once you realised you couldn’t pinpoint the exact number. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it is around ten classmates but it could be like eight or twelve too.”

“Even eight classmates with their parents are quite a lot. If someone knew of that they would have the perfect opportunity to strike.”

“What do you mean?” Dread settled in your stomach as you listened to Johnny, fearing the worst already.

“A pet fair doesn’t have the same security level as our prestigious academy. If they have any security at all.” Johnny stopped in front of a vent. He had no time to explain how he, as a supposed psychiatrist, knew how to sneak into a building but he would worry about an excuse after they got Ari again.

You stood next to him, watching him silently as he pulled a pocket screwdriver out of his wallet and skillfully loosened the screws of the vent. Personally, you would have chosen a much rougher version of getting inside but you couldn’t let Johnny see that version of yourself. You were supposed to be a doting housewife after all.

Johnny crawled into the vent first and helped you inside afterwards. He silently navigated the way through the narrow space. After a while Johnny stopped. He pointed at his ear and then ahead of himself, hoping you’d understand his message before he continued to move ahead.

Both of you stopped at an opening, seeing the pet fair in front of you - except the people were missing. The only thing they heard were the various amounts of pets playing, whining, yipping or squeaking.

“Where’s everyone?” You whispered under your breath, fearing even that volume would be too much and reveal your position.

Johnny shrugged with his shoulders and started unscrewing the opening. Once he stepped outside he helped you too and placed the opening back to hide their tracks.

Now that you two stood upright you were able to oversee the whole fair. There was a double door leading to the private rooms, which didn’t seem guarded.

You pulled at Johnny’s sleeve and pointed towards the seated crowd at one corner of the fair. The people anxiously looked towards the both of you but didn’t dare to make a move or a sound.

The moment of confusion vanished the second you two heard a threatening growl behind you. “Trained dogs”, Johnny mumbled and pulled you behind him. He slowly backed away from the dogs while his gaze roamed around the area, hoping to find something useful.

Alerted from the growls, two more large dogs showed up baring their teeth. They pushed you towards the group of hostages, where a fourth guard dog was waiting.

“What are we going to do?” Your eyes darted over the crowd, noticing how none of the children were there. Anger and worry flared up inside of you, picturing the worst happening to Ari. Without hesitation you grabbed the strap of your purse and slapped it across the nuzzle of one of the dogs. “Bad dog!”

Johnny stared at you for a moment, stunned you moved out of the hiding spot behind him and actively attacked trained guard dogs.

You swiftly moved out of the way as one dog jumped forward and slammed the back of your hand on the back of the dog’s head, knocking it out in the process. “You will not keep me away from my little Ari!”

Johnny followed suit and helped you knock out the remaining dogs. As soon as he deemed the threat being taken care of he turned to the crowd. After a few questions to gather a little more intel Johnny guided the group to the exit, letting them go and asking them to notify the police.

You on the other hand couldn’t care less about these people. You simply walked towards the double doors, pushing them open and finding yourself in a long hallway that spread out to both sides with several more rooms.

“My papa and mama will be coming and saving all of us!”

Your head snapped towards the direction of Ari’s voice. You hurried towards it but Johnny grabbed your arm and pulled you back again, placing one finger over his lips.

Both of you listened to the conversation. The booming voice of a male sent chills down your spine. “Your parents are paying a hefty sum to buy your freedom, let alone their own freedom. Don’t be so cocky about having rich parents!”

“They will come here and hit you like kawoom!”

“That’s enough from you!”

You flinched upon hearing the slap. Before Johnny could hold you back, you slammed the door open. Your eyes quickly scanned the room, seeing all the children huddled in one corner and Ari crouching at the front.

As she looked up with teary eyes, holding her stinging cheek, you could only see red. You threw your purse at the back of the head from the man, getting his attention immediately.

“What the-” He growled threateningly and stormed towards you. His large hands were about to grab you when you dropped down and punched him in the gut, making him double over. You stepped back and watched him go down on his knees before you roundhouse kicked him in the face.

Johnny stared at you with wide eyes. He knew you could be dangerous but he never expected to witness something like this. He actually questioned himself when you snapped out of this rage mode and hurried over to Ari, being back to the sniffling and crying mess he had encountered first.

“What is going on here?”

You quickly pushed Ari behind you and turned around, ready to charge at the new threat at any given moment.

Though when you turned around you saw Johnny already dodging the first punch. His fighting style contradicted yours in any possible way. While you went straight for the target and created the most damage while doing that, Johnny played with his target - taunting and teasing his opponent until they made a mistake.

You were most destructive on a physical level but Johnny included mind games, making him most destructive on a psychological level.

Johnny hit his opponent on the back of his neck, knocking him unconscious. With an amused exhale Johnny turned back to you and Ari. He crouched down next to you, his eyes locked with yours until Ari pushed herself between you two.

“Are you hurt?” He asked and cupped her cheek softly, frowning as he still saw the imprint from the slap Ari received earlier. Yet she still shook her head and gleamed up at him.

“I knew you were coming! I told everyone my mama and papa would save us!”

“You were so brave”, you whispered and wrapped your arms around Ari, holding her tightly, “so, so brave.”

Ari grabbed Johnny’s hand and pulled him into the embrace as well, giggling in satisfaction when he hugged both of you.

“I’m proud of you”, he added as he leaned down and kissed Ari’s forehead.

“Of mama too!”

You were about to protest when Johnny grabbed your chin and turned your face towards his. “I’m proud of you too”, he said firmly and pecked your cheek, smirking upon your flustered state.

Ari turned to look at you with a knowing glint in her eyes. “Of papa too”, she simply stated and waited for you to act on it.

You swallowed nervously and your gaze dropped to his lips for a split second. “Of course we’re proud of you too”, you said, trying to sound as firmly as Johnny did before but failing miserably once you giggled nervously.

“They’re here!”

Both you and Johnny spun around highly alert again, only to relax when several police officers came into the room. You pulled Ari into your arms, carrying her as Johnny guided you out of the way, still shielding the both of you protectively.

As the police officers arrested the criminals and guided the children back to their parents, the three of you stayed back.

“We still haven’t found a pet for you”, you remembered out loud with a hint of regret, “and I don’t think the fair will continue today.”

Ari snickered in your hold and carefully opened the jacket she wore. “I found a pet, mama.” A white ball of fur peaked its head out from the jacket, the black nose curiously wiggling around as it sniffed the air. “Can I keep it?”

“We still need to officially adopt it”, Johnny told her, patting her head with a soft smile. “Lead the way to where you got it from and then all of us can go back home.”

You let Ari back down onto her own two feet, watching her skipping happily towards the door. Your focus on the small child only wavered when Johnny grabbed your hand again and pulled you to his side.

“I think you forgot something.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, feeling the panic rise inside of you again while your mind frantically rummaged through your memories.

“You were proud of me”, Johnny teased you with an expectant look. He watched realisation hit you before it got replaced with your nervousness again. “Can you say it again?”

You inhaled deeply, trying to calm your pounding heart. “I am proud of you”, you said and looked into Johnny’s eyes.

A smirk played over his features as he cupped your face and pulled you in for a kiss, sealing his emotions for you and for Ari with it.

“Mama, papa! Hurry up!”

Reluctantly Johnny broke the kiss again, his eyes searching yours. “We should go before Ari disappears again.”

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland

#supermnet #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #wkcnet #kvanity #johnny suh #nct #nct johnny #spy x family au #internecine #one shot

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gryficowa · 4 months

Text

I'm irritated because I watched a crime case, right? So the victim is a woman (Already older) because the firefighters preferred to stand instead of rushing in (And the boss recorded a video on Snapchat, because why not)

What pissed me off even more were the comments blaming my husband because he dared to leave the house for the game and his phone was turned off (Because she called him before calling 911)

So I said: What? He's her slave? People with disabilities don't like feeling like a burden (I'm on the autism spectrum)

And suddenly people in the comments are angry because I have no empathy (Yes, as a person on the autism spectrum, talking about what I know, I have no empathy, but they do when they blame my husband because he didn't stay at home because, as we know, he supposedly predicted the fire and firefighters who didn't move their asses to save his wife)

It's sick that as a person with a disability you can't be left alone for them, even though you're at home where you feel safe, because after your death they blame your loved one for not staying at home with you, because of course they have to predict a fire and the firefighters I mentioned

And I have no empathy when these are the people who attack the husband who lost his wife?

They seriously would like this husband to be chained to his wife (Because that's what disabled people want, right? Then we don't feel like a burden at all, right, able-bodied people?)

It was the firefighters who were to blame, not her husband, because he went to the match (Because apparently it's not allowed anymore when you know that nothing will happen to your loved one, because it may not have been the only situation of this type, why do people treat people with disabilities as glass dolls? This irritates me, ok, accepting limitations is good, but this is about something else, i.e. treating a person with a disability like a child, or as if this person's words meant nothing)

Yes, it pissed me off so much, and YouTube banned my comments (Oh, horror, I reacted to a guy's comment that when you have a child, you have to throw away the dogs, or rather "flea bags", because you have no obligation to take care of them to do, it's a pity that when I reported other things, YouTube ignored it, but it's obvious that I'm bad, classic in all this)

Ps. The entry is not about people who need help 24 hours a day, but more about those who need it a little, but somehow manage to cope, like the woman I mentioned, because there are different types of disabilities, which you have to remember, it pissed me off in the whole context , people who are independent in some way often feel bad about that many people help them when they feel they can do something on their own, which unfortunately can affect self-esteem and the feeling of being a burden

#angry #ableism #disabilities #disability #disabled #youtube

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my2phetaliaheadcanons · 3 years

Note

So on the one ask about the yandere marriage. What would happen if the same characters darling escaped and actually tried fighting back? Probably won’t work out but they tried.

You are correct, darling tried. But it didn’t work, and lead to some harsh consequences.

Germany – The sweet and outgoing nature of his kitten made her seem docile. Luther didn’t count on her claws coming out when she was cornered.

Luther’s love for his kitten will cause him to gloss over her rough behavior at first. Every protest would be seen as a concern that could be swept under the rug. Yelling and screaming would be a lover’s quarrel. It wasn’t until her hand hit his face that Luther would realize that harsher methods would be needed.

Luther’s methods would start off simple, leaving Kitten in a sealed room for a day or two. Each time-out session’s length would be based on what the actions of rebellion would be. After trying this for a couple of months, and reaching isolation periods of two weeks, or having a weapon drawn on him, Luther would up the intensity.

Instead of just isolation, it would start to include chains, starvation, and darkness. These restrictions could eventually break Kitten down to the point of submission. If she hadn’t won Luther’s trust through fake affections and obedience first.

She would either escape through an open window or convince Luther to get extremely intoxicated to the point of passing out. At that point, she could walk right out the front door.

Once Luther realizes what happens, Kitten had better pray that she stays ahead. Luther’s methods are reminiscent of a hunting dog. Persistent and willing to use the pack. If Luther couldn’t find her within three days, then he’s calling the other axis members. More than likely, the help of the other members will corner Kitten quickly.

After she is found, Luther doesn’t wait. He swoops in the second she is away from witnesses and knocks her out. All Kitten manages to squeak out is a “Luther!” and then it's dark.

When she awakens, all she can feel is pain. Luther broke her dominant leg, and though it was well wrapped, she noticed a couple of other new things. The chains that once wrapped only around her ankles became a harness. It's not cutting off circulation, but it was tight. The room she’s in is small, stone, and cold. The only light in the room came from the crack in the door.

This would be the punishment for escape. Luther had been worried and at least this way he knows where she is. Maybe on their five-year anniversary, she could come out.

Sweden – Hustru was a ray of sunshine. Beautiful, bright, and also hot. Not just in terms of attractiveness, her warm cherry attitude would easily change to a blistering fury. This was amusing to Bernard, despite being from an area known for chills, this heat was welcoming.

Going the route of a true yandere, Bernard would hide you away, his logic would be that all newlyweds need some time. Though since it was done with approval from both of their bosses, it would not be in one of his unknown places, rather a newer and known spot, one designed just for her. It would be a simple house, out in the foggy Swedish forest. The outside would be reminiscent of a by-gone area, but the inside would be a mix of modern and medieval.

Bernard thought she enjoyed it until she started to fight against his ‘simple’ rules. Things like yelling and screaming would be funny to him. It was showing Bernard a side that he hadn’t yet witnessed, and he enjoyed that. Each action of rebellion would be recorded by him with joy. Until that is, hustru decided to get physical.

Bernard, like Luther, is fine with backtalk. Physical fighting though is a sign of distrust and the breakdown of his bond with his hustru. At this, hustru would be restrained and with his silver tongue, he would talk her out of attacking. His voice would sound joyful, but his eyes would communicate anything but that.

That would be her only warning. If hustru would attempt another attack, Bernard wouldn’t hesitate to break a limb. This should quell her fire for a time, and at that moment Bernard would coo at her. A sweet voice asking how she could be so clumsy, and how she should allow Bernard to take care of it.

Eventually, it would reach the boiling point she would make a break for it. Bernard would have been waiting for this moment. After all, he already takes people to his home, Bernard knows that it's only a matter of time before they run.

He would follow behind slowly, fully understanding what she would be looking for in an escape route. Each turn hustru would make, she could hear Bernard taunting her and making false promises. Whether or not hustru would realize it, Bernard would be herding her like a ewe to the slaughterhouse.

Bernard would end the chase by cornering hustru. It would either be by a cliff or a lake. Her look of panic would thrill Bernard, and he would descend upon her like a wolf. Their struggle would last until Bernard could give either a hard blow to the back of her head, chokehold, or hold her head in the water.

Holding her now unconscious body close, Bernard would take her away. She would not return to the nice home in the Swedish forest but instead would find herself in an unfamiliar place. It was Sweden’s oldest and best-hidden spot.

This one is underground and like a hobbit hole. Though the inside is much bigger and maze-like. Hustru will never find the door, but Bernard will always be there to give her affection.

Russia – Viktor knew marriage was an adjustment for both the husband and the wife. They were living together for the first time, and that meant getting used to each other’s constant presence. Well, at least for родная, since Viktor knew everything about her. Though, he was reaching the end of his patience with her insults.

Viktor would be willing to turn a blind eye to any rebellion for about a week or two. As I said, marriage is an adjustment, and he would be willing to give родная some time. After that period, and if she is still fighting their love, then Viktor sees reason to correct the bad behavior.

As a yandere Viktor is fine with the occasional comment. Should родная do it more often than that, or attempt to lay it on thick Viktor is gonna act. His punishments are always smart and calculating with the purpose of ensuring submission. It starts simple; restricting her time outside the home and the disappearance of specific privileges. Things like entertainment and basic comforts are the first to go. As time goes on, and if she chooses to escalate her acts, then it's only gonna get worse.

Physical attacks lead to periods of isolation, additional housework, and prevention of sleep. These three together would make it easier for Viktor to shape her behaviors and throughout ask her specific questions to see how she is coming along. If родная is smart enough, she will submit quickly to avoid seeing how far he is willing to take this.

If родная should escape, she then there must be an insurance that Viktor is not home. Once out of the home, then she has no choice but to take the alleyways. Viktor’s men are well-rounded and without a doubt one of them is well versed in hacking. Once found, whether it be via a security camera, or through the use of documents, Viktor will bring her home.

It won’t be a pretty moment. One, it would be in public and there would be screaming and begging. Two, no one would help, mainly because Viktor would appear not only her husband but provide papers to make it seem like she had some illness that required guardianship.

In the end, she’s in a basement tied to a chair. From there Viktor would work once again with his previous taming methods, this time though he would make sure it sticks.

England – Oliver was quite pleased on their wedding day. It was beautiful and perfect, but the events since that wonderful day have been troubling to him. His sweet little Dearie appeared to not be adjusting well to married life, but he’s got the tools to help.

Oliver has always had a need for control, and after the American Revolution, it had gotten worse. When Dearie fights, it’s almost like a flashback for him. He doesn’t handle it well, Oliver is willing to give a warning, after all, it is his wife. Though after not only having his warning ignored but receiving back-to-back threats and the claims that he is a monster, Oliver decides that his wife needs lessons on how to be a lady and housewife.

These lessons range from proper posture and basic manners to tea ceremonies and fancy dances. The length and frequency of the lessons depend on the severity of her crimes. Which to Oliver, each is extremely severe and must be taught out of his sweet little dearie.

For each lesson, Oliver has an enchanted device. For posture, a corset with celestial bronze and white silk. Each attempt of slouching or relaxing causes it to tighten like a python with a rabbit in its coils. Dance lessons involve iron shoes, not only do they burn when the dancing stops, but they can only be removed by Oliver. These are just two of many that he has.

Her escape would not be easy. Oliver’s flying bunnies, Chocolate and Strawberry would always be nearby. Waiting and ready to report. Her best chance of escape would be a moment of pure chaos. Whether she caused it or she had been blessed with it, this would be her only chance of escape.

Once he realizes that she had run away, Oliver would open his dreaded spellbook. The magic would flit and fly around him as he reads various spells. Creatures of all kinds would be summoned and with the leadership of his bunnies, they would spread across the land like the shadows that appear with the setting sun.

Eventually, she would be found. Caught and dragged away by the various shadows Dearie thought she had escaped.

Once Oliver had her back in his arms, an enchantment would be placed. Nothing too harmful, just something that would bind their souls together. Forever.

#2p headcanons #2p hetalia #2p england #2p russia #2p sweden #2p germany #yandere hetalia #yandere

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quazartranslates · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH75

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 75: Castle Cry (II)

With a loud bang, the lights turned on, and the whole hall showed its magnificent side under the light. The magnificent chandelier hanging from the domed ceiling gave off dazzling light and dispelled the surrounding darkness.

Just now, the stale smell dissipated with the bell, and the traces of being eroded by fire disappeared around it, leaving a colorful castle with a bright marble floor reflecting the lights, thick carpet on the corners, and delicate decorative patterns on that carpet. At that moment, the whole hall was brand new and shining.

"It seems that this isn’t the old castle that was burned by fire from just now, at least it has electricity." Qi Leren's hand was still on the switch on the wall as he spoke to Dr. Lu.

Dr. Lu touched his chin. "Oh, it's interesting. When we entered here just now, the old castle had been burned down. Now, once the bell tolled, it looks like we entered the old castle before it was burned down."

"What's the use of saying this now? Hurry and find a way out! The door is gone, but there are windows!" Luo Xueyi woke up after a brief state of wonder and realized that they were now in strange danger.

Dr. Lu gave her a pitying look: "According to the rules of horror films, I don't think we can get out through the window."

The light overhead made the fear dissipate a lot. Luo Xueyi stamped her foot and took her boyfriend Miao Bo's hand. "I don't believe it. I'm going to look for it! If you love me, you’ll come with me!"

Dr. Lu took a slap in the mouth and stopped Qi Leren who wanted to stop Luo Xueyi: "If she’s so eager to die, let her go, maybe you can find something." Of course, it was most likely that they would find two bodies later.

"Why don't we also..." Xiao Hong hesitated, wanting to follow Luo Xueyi and others, but was pulled by Nan Lu. "Don't go!"

Xiao Hong, who was forcibly held by his girlfriend, reluctantly glanced at the two people who were leaving, and remained silent.

"What now?" Nan Lu asked with a clouded expression.

Qi Leren glanced at Dr. Lu and saw that he didn't answer. He said, "I don't think we can go out through the window. If we want to leave this old castle, we have to solve the mystery of the fire that happened here. If you know anything about the legend of this old castle, you might as well say it. Maybe it’s also a clue."

Nan Lu thought for a moment. "All I’ve heard is the legend that the mistress of the castle killed everyone because her husband was unfaithful, and then set fire to the castle. Xiao Hong, have you heard anything?"

Xiao Hong was a little distracted, and only after hearing his name did he react: "I... I heard from my parents when I was a child that a servant stole a lot of money with outsiders. In order to cover up his crimes, he went mad and killed people in the castle overnight, then set fire to destroy the evidence and disguised it as an accident."

"What do you think?" Qi Leren asked Dr. Lu.

"I'm not sure..." Dr. Lu murmured bitterly. "Well, if I insist on saying it, I think the second one is more reliable."

"Why?" Nan Lu disapprovingly asked.

"It's very simple. There are at least a dozen servants in an old castle. Can an adult woman kill so many people casually? Killing people is very tiring. Seriously, if you’re an ordinary person and I give you a knife to chop down ten people who are standing still, you’ll be exhausted. Besides, the person she wants revenge against is only her husband, so why kill everyone together? This is revenge on society, which is totally illogical. So I think the second one is more likely. The owner of the castle came from Germany to do business. Instead of living in the city, he built such a castle. He must be very rich. It’s logically possible that someone colluded with the servant to kill for money, but... "Dr. Lu said, spreading his hands.

"But what?" Nan Lu asked.

Qi Leren had a little understanding: "But the theme of killing people for money is not suitable for solving puzzles."

"As a positive solution, in terms of subject matter, the first story is very suitable. The lady who went crazy because of her love is like a final boss of a horror game." Dr. Lu rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful.

"It's meaningless to think about it now. Let's walk around carefully and see where the bell came from." Qi Leren said.

The other three people didn't disagree, so they took to the curved staircase and headed in the direction where the bell had just come from.

At this time, the painting on the wall was intact and hadn’t been destroyed by the fire. They finally got to see this portrait.

On the platform where the left and right curved stairs merged together, facing the door was a huge portrait. The picture showed a young couple, the man looking handsome and elegant in a suit. He gently looked at his wife, a woman in a formal dress with long golden curls winding over her shoulders, which made her beautiful face more beautiful and refined. She was holding a big dog and her face was pulled into a happy smile.

Below the portrait was the floor clock that had just sounded, and the hour hand and minute hand walked at their own rhythm.

Was the man in the portrait the owner of this castle? Qi Leren was lost in thinking about the portrait.

"This should be the master and mistress of the castle? They look very loving." Nan Lu's face showed envy.

Xiao Hong also replied: "Yes, she looks really beautiful."

Nan Lu immediately pinched him and said angrily, "You only know how to look at beautiful women!"

"Don't look at it that way, you’re the most beautiful!" Xiao Hong quickly picked up his girlfriend

The flirting between lovers made Qi Leren feel uncomfortable. Looking at Dr. Lu, he saw that he was also wearing a long face. The two exchanged helpless eyes and were about to continue to go up. Suddenly there was a sound of heavy objects falling to the ground downstairs, and then Luo Xueyi, who had taken Miao Bo to look for a window before, screamed: "Ahhh!"

The shrill screams plunged into Qi Leren’s heart like a sharp sword, and his originally calm heartbeat suddenly became fierce, and Qi Leren rushed down without thinking.

Outside of the brightly lit hall, the corridor was still dark, and Qi Leren turned on his flashlight and walked forward step by step.

Illuminated by the flashlight, the corridor was filled with dark and dead human sculptures and potted plants, and the shadows moved with Qi Leren’s footsteps, which made him wonder what lay in the distorted shadows.

Through the long corridor, the space in front suddenly became.

There was a crescent moon hanging in the sky outside, and a large patch of moonlight was sprinkled into this room from the window crucified by iron bars, casting shadows and criss-crossed light. In the bright moonlight, floating dust could be faintly seen, looking like plankton floating in the deep sea.

Qi Leren had smelled blood, which had been with him since the day he entered the game. He was already too familiar with it.

The flashlight’s yellowish beam dispelled the deep and remote darkness, but it could not erase the bloody scene.

A suit of armour the size of an adult male was standing in the corner, blood dripping from the sword in its hand, with a small pool of blood on the ground. Twisted into an impressive posture beside the armor was the body of Luo Xueyi’s boyfriend, Miao Bo!

From behind him came Dr. Lu's trembling voice: "Qi Leren, is everything all right up ahead?"

Qi Leren took a deep breath: "Nothing, come and have a look, can he still be saved?"

Dr. Lu crept up, saw the body and the strange armor, and gasped: "Oh my god, it can move!"

"I don't feel danger." Qi Leren touched the card slot on his waist. S/L, Rain-Day Laundry, and Primary Fighting Skills were all inserted in the card slot. In order to prepare for this mission, he went to Chen Baiqi to buy three miniature bombs, and specially bought a rune that could be embedded in weapons which allowed an attack effect on ghosts and other spirits, so as to avoid frequent bloodletting.

Dr. Lu was a little relieved, and carefully walked to Miao Bo's side. He had fallen to the ground in a strange posture, like he had knelt on the ground after being stabbed and then flopped to the side, forming a very twisted position. Dr. Lu checked his pulse, looked at the wound again, and immediately retired: "It's hopeless, a sword pierced his heart, even lying in the ICU couldn't save him let alone this terrible place."

Nan Lu asked in a panic: "How could he be stabbed by a sword? Will that armor still move?"

"Where’s Luo Xueyi? Will she be all right? " Xiao Hong also asked.

Qi Leren glanced at the armor again. It stood firmly in the corner, like a special ornament. If it wasn't for the blood on its sword... But the blood was only on the sword. If that armor hadn’t killed him, could it be Luo Xueyi had killed Miao Bo with this sword and ran away? There was no problem in terms of time, but what was her motive?

Knock knock knock.

There was a gentle knock on a door and the four people jumped in surprise, looking at the direction it had come from.

There was a hidden door deep in the room, which you wouldn't notice if you didn't look carefully.

Knock knock knock.

The knock on the door came again, and a soft and strange voice came from the other side: "Is there anyone outside? Can you open the door for me?"

-----

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#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

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Globe, December 7

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Hillary Clinton health crisis

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- Larsa Pippen in a bikini in Fort Lauderdale, Olivia Culpo wrestles with recycling outside her L.A. office, Shia LaBeouf ditches his face covering for a phone call in an L.A. market

Page 3: Pete Wentz plays tennis, Bachelorette Kaitlyn Bristowe outside the Dancing with the Stars studio, Sean Penn hits the beach in Hawaii

Page 4: Barbara Walters was sharp as a tack when she grilled the world’s biggest leaders but ravaging dementia has now tragically turned the 91-year-old into a prisoner in her own bed

Page 5: Pistol-packing Elvis Presley was so gaga over guns that he’d even take a firearm to bed with him

* Ringo Starr’s childhood bout with appendicitis at age six caused him to fall into a coma and spend a year in the hospital to recover then five years later he contracted tuberculosis and spent two years in a sanitarium where he discovered drums as part of the hospital band

Page 6: If it’s true that Gentleman Prefer Blondes Marilyn Monroe was the perfect star for the flick because she dyed her carpet platinum to match the drapes -- beauty guru Kenneth Battelle suggested Marilyn change the color of her pubic hair after a jerk spilled champagne over her sheer dress at a party showing everything because she didn’t wear skivvies so the guru ran to the hotel drugstore and got some dye and told Marilyn to go in the bathroom and bleach

Page 7: Celine Dion has turned into a frightening bag of bones leaving friends worried she’s headed for a catastrophic health crisis -- now down to a gaunt 96 pounds the star is driving herself to the brink of collapse with a diet and exercise plan to prepare for the relaunch of her hit world tour and she starves herself in her drive for perfection and to maintain the stick-thin look that helped turn her into a fashion icon

* Julianne Hough confesses feeling she didn’t deserve the A-list life she enjoyed while dating Ryan Seacrest where she was on private planes and yachts and living in a very well-off house and her life was pretty different from where she grew up -- she left Ryan in 2013 after three years because she wanted to create that for herself because she felt like she didn’t deserve it

Page 8: Duchess of York Sarah Ferguson is searching for the Fountain of Youth by working out with Pierce Brosnan’s trainer -- the ex-wife of disgraced Prince Andrew is following a grueling exercise regimen in hopes of joining people who are said to be biologically younger than their true age

Page 9: Disgraced Prince Andrew has been kicked from the royal family and now Prince Charles plans to boot his sister Princess Anne from his inner circle once he becomes king -- while the princess has carried her share of official engagements Charles plans to shrink the monarchy after his mother Queen Elizabeth passes and the phrase slimmed-down royal family constantly keeps coming up and the royal family will evolve with Charles coming to the throne -- Anne will be on the chopping block mostly because of ambitious Duchess Camilla who is Charles’ wife and who has carried out a ruthless dirty plan to be queen for decades and she wants no one else taking the limelight and that includes Charles’ sister

* Prince Harry and wife Meghan Markle dissed his dad Prince Charles with a surprising public snub as the couple failed to publicly wish Charles a happy birthday when he turned 72 -- Queen Elizabeth and Prince William and Duchess Kate all sent birthday wishes to the future king on social media but Harry and Meghan took a pass even though Harry popped up on the British TV show Strictly Come Dancing that night to wish a pal good luck

Page 10: A nuclear-sized catfight has exploded in North Korea where dictator Kim Jong-un’s baby sister and his pop star lover are battling to claw their way to be top gal -- while sister Kim Yo-jong seemed to be running the nation after Kim vanished and was rumored dead he popped back up with old galpal Hyon Song-wol on his arm and his current wife Ri Sol-ju nowhere to be seen

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- Mario Lopez wearing a clear mask (picture), Lauren Simon of The Real Housewives of Cheshire in the U.K. claims to have had sex with an actual ghost, Kaley Cuoco has a theory about shooting those sexy big bangs with ex-boyfriend Johnny Galecki that the pair’s sneaky sitcom boss got a kick putting the real-life former lovers under the covers, Reese Witherspoon lost her beloved dog Pepper to cancer and returned to her ole Southern roots when picking a name for her brand-new puppy: Minnie Pearl, plagued by seemingly endless allegations of being mean and ignoring a toxic workplace Ellen DeGeneres is now plugging a Be Kind subscription box valued at $270

Page 13: Kristen Taekman tops of her gas tank in L.A. (picture), Jeff Goldblum feeding a parking meter in L.A. (picture), Hilary Duff gets primped and primed on the NYC set of Younger (picture)

Page 14: Reclusive ailing widow Yoko Ono finally loosened the reins and is handing over her $800 million empire to Sean Lennon her only child with Beatles legend John Lennon but John’s eldest son Julian Lennon was left out of the hitmaker’s will but Julian managed to eke out a $25 million settlement okayed by Yoko after he dragged his famous dad’s estate to court, Kelsea Ballerini snapped at a nosy fan for rudely asking if her rounded tummy was a blossoming baby bump

* Fashion Verdict -- Lara Spencer 9/10, Laura Veltz 2/10, Lauren Akins 3/10, Lauren Alaina 4/10

Page 16: Michael Jackson’s baby mama Debbie Rowe reveals getting pregnant was no thrill because she was artificially impregnated -- Debbie met ex-husband Michael when she was working for his dermatologist and she insists the couple never had sex and a sperm donor fathered the pop star’s two kids she carried in her womb -- son Prince Jackson is rumored to have been fathered by Debbie’s doctor boss Arnold Klein -- British actor Mark Lester claims her could be Paris Jackson’s father -- Debbie is unsure of the paternity of Michael’s youngest son Blanket who now goes by Bigi Jackson

Page 17: Fans gaga for Dr. McDreamy on Grey’s Anatomy got a super thrill on the season 17 premiere when Patrick Dempsey returned to the hit hospital drama after departing the show five years ago -- Dempsey whose character Dr. Derek Shepherd died in a car crash came back in a dream sequence reuniting with star Ellen Pompeo’s Dr. Meredith Grey on a beach -- Dempsey split from the show to spend more time with his family and pursue his auto racing hobby but he’ll return to the show several more times

Page 19: 10 Things You Don’t Know About Emma Corrin

* Reba McEntire reveals she turned down The Voice gig that went to Blake Shelton and now she regrets it big-time

* Nip/tuck junkie Dolly Parton says she plans to keep freshening her face by going under the knife and crows she’s gonna look like a cartoon and she’ll look as young as her plastic surgeons will allow her

Page 20: True Crime

Page 21: Former soap stud Cody Longo was socked with a domestic abuse charge following a jealous booze-fueled attack on his dancer wife Stephanie Clark -- Cody played Nicholas Alamain on Days of Our Lives from 2011-2012

Page 23: Meredith Baxter felt booby-trapped by her enormous breasts and confesses she welcomed breast-reduction surgery after getting cancer -- the Family Ties star reveals her former 42-inch bust was the plague of her life

* Weatherman Al Roker has a secret weapon in his stormy battle to recover from prostate cancer surgery which is the love and support of his wife Deborah Roberts who is keeping him happy and positive doting on him day and night plus they talk about everything and make medical decisions together so there’s no fear or anxiety entering their world

* Jennifer Lopez kicked booty when a federal judge dismissed a $40 million lawsuit brought by a former stripper who claims she inspired the hit movie Hustlers -- Samantha Barbash claims she’s the real-life model for J.Lo’s pole-dancing swindler Ramona Vega and insisted the movie ruined her rep by implying she did drugs around her kids but the judge tossed the case because Barbash’s name or portrait or picture or voice wasn’t used in the film

Page 24: Cover Story -- Hillary Clinton has tragically packed on nearly 100 pounds since she vanished from the spotlight four years ago and is struggling to breathe and walk and now a medical expert is warning the 73-year-old is facing a health crisis as she tips the scales at 247 pounds -- Hillary has a history of broken bones and shocking collapses

Page 26: Health Report

Page 30: Country girl Carly Pearce’s divorce from Michael Ray has gone from bad to ugly and he’s now parading his romance with Travis Tritt’s daughter Tyler Reese Tritt -- Carly was all for taking the high road but now she’s taken off the gloves -- they’re bad-mouthing each other far and wide and Carly’s tossed everything that reminds her of Michael

* Southern Charm belle Madison LeCroy has been flashing a pic of her newest charms which is a set of bigger boobs

Page 36: Diva Mariah Carey’s demanding ways are driving her boyfriend Bryan Tanaka bonkers and the couple of four years may be headed for Splitsville unless she changes her ways -- Mariah treats Bryan like an assistant instead of a lover and it’s giving him fits and he’s been so patient with Mariah and he loves her but she’s wearing him out with her incessant orders like she has him drawing up her schedule for online greets plus she’s ordering him to do all her holiday shopping for friends and be in charge of everything from decorations to food prep

* Emma Roberts confesses being pregnant makes her weepy and she’s hit the point where like halfway up the stairs she has to sit down sometimes and maybe tears roll down a couple times a week but despite that Emma says she feels grateful and lucky to be expecting her first child

Page 38: Real Life

Page 40: Phil Collins’ embarrassing court battle with third ex Orianne Cevey is casting a pall over his daughter Lily Collins’ wedding plans -- Lily is desperate to tie the knot with Charlie MacDowell but the dirty charges flying back may force her to put the happy day on hold and it’s hard for Lily to concentrate on making wedding plans when her father is caught in an ugly public fight -- Orianne is battling over Phil’s $38 million Miami mansion where they lived after reuniting in 2018

Page 44: Straight Talk -- NXIVM cult is warning to us all

Page 45: Treasure hunters have launched a frantic search for a $150 million stash of gangster gold hidden by mobster Dutch Schultz in Upstate New York after two sleuths recently discovered coins they believe are linked to the stash -- following a long list of cryptic clues Canadian fortune seekers Steve Zazulyk and Ryan Fazekas uncovered gold coins dated 1903 a few miles from the Prohibition Era beer baron’s hangout in the Catskills town of Phoenicia and their find triggered a race against other prosecutors seeking a two-by-three-foot steel box filled with diamonds and gold coins and $1000 bills and $7 billion in World War I Liberty Bonds and the hoard has an estimated value of $150 million today

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manicmedic-tf2 · 4 years

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So as some of you may have seen I’m a bit of a OC hoarder and I’ll give you a brief history on each of them. You can ask me about them if you want to know more!

1. RED Saboteur also known as Sabs- Harlow isn’t her real name as her name is actually a number. She came from a shady company called Revelation Tech where she was born and trained to kill. She escaped, her “siblings” came after her and she took most of them out, and then finally arrived at Mann Co.

2. RED Executioner- Halvar Oloffson- Swedish giant that was a national underground fighter that ranked 8 out of 10 best fighters. His family weren’t aware until they saw him beaten up and he caved. They convinced him to do a job less dangerous to support them, so he ended up finding Mann Co. and the job wasn’t too dangerous since he ended up coming back to life.

3. RED Bodyguard- Hasida Mizrahi- After a family tragedy, she moved from home of Israel to Austria and she needed a way to support her family. She found an ad in Mann Co. and she joined there.

4. Mediator- Nathan Red Hawk- Needing a way to support his father’s cancer treatment he worked for Mann Co. to settle any issues there may be between the mercenaries. Whether it be in their own team or the enemy it couldn’t interfere with the job. Poor man is in a done mood 99% of the time with them.

5. BLU Saboteur- Hikaru Kuwabara- Former hitman for the yakuza and after an incident on a hit he left. Without anything except his skills he looks for redemption and to do that he needs money to help start a new life. For that it was Mann Co.

6. BLU Bodyguard- Julio Ricardo Jr.- Celebrity from Mexico City as a lucha libre wrestler. His father was also a wrestler and was the Classic Bodyguard. After his first overdose and has hit rock bottom he goes to his roots and goes to work for Mann Co. to help him.

7. BLU Exectioner- Dakari Akintola- From a political family in Ethiopia and a soldier. Though after being dishonorably dishcharged he was shunned from his family and went to America and found work in Mann Co.

8. Therapist- Chahna Burman- A highly recommended therapist from India, she was hired on to evaluate and support each of the mercenaries. She provides a safe haven and a break from the stressful and intense environment that Mann Co. has brought on.

9. Assistant- Liling Zhao- With organized crime roots in her family, Liling wanted nothing from it as she wanted to pursue knowledge. After they framed her at the university she worked at she went on the run. Then found Mann Co. as a hideout and a way to make money. She fills in and helps her co-workers and even have to fill in for the mercs if need be despite hating violence.

10. Swindler- Jules Rodriguez- A very well known theif and hoodwinker with a past that’s not solidly known she is seductive as she is charming. After getting pissing off the wrong people she went to work for Mann Co. to lay low for a while.

11. Kingpin- Ellsworth “Scrappy” Morrison- One of the biggest mob bosses from New York that ran Harlem with a firm grip. He was very well liked by the locals and even his rivals respected him until his cousin formed a coup and just about killed him had it not been for Miss Pauling pulling him from the brink of death. She brought him to Mann Co. and offered him the job there and having nothing left, but revenge in his heart he accepted.

12. Seramu- Just a non-binary (he/him, they/them) 10,000+ year old sassy wizard that loves to annoy the mercenaries, but also secretly lonely. Really doesn’t like Merasmus and basically calls him a poser.

13. Virulent- Rin Hamasaki- Expert in poisons, sociopath, goth before it was cool, hates people, and cares about her pets.

14. BLU Sniper- Ragni Pelenato- Aussie Samoan and expert marksman. Super chill and loves to annoy his RED counterpart.

15. BLU Medic- Abra Schulz- Ex-wife to RED Medic and widow to her second husband. She wanted a place to help provide for her clinic and her family and found Mann Co.

16. BLU Pyro- Siku Nakoyak- Former firefighter and a pyromaniac that had nowhere else to go and with nothing left to lose she found Mann Co.. A place where she can settle her pyromania and have a place to live.

17. Instigator- Elize Taylor- An actress looking to get into the mindset of the roles she’s been playing lately. From little ole Tulsa, Kansas, to Hollywood and New York, and now at Mann Co.

18. RED Guard Dog- Lou- Pit mix adopted from a shelter as a puppy and trained to be a K-9 unit for Mann Co. A big goofball who loves his humans and steals socks on the base and off he’s a great teammate.

19. BLU Guard Dog-Bud- German Shepherd descended from many K-9 units and military dogs. A very professional dog that does not mess around when it comes to spies.

20. Enforcer-Oscar- Sabs’s oldest “brother” from Revelation Tech. Searched for her since he aided in her escape(that she was unaware of) and after finding her and reconnecting her he started working for the company as someone who makes sure the rules are followed after a merc breaks them. With his enhanced strength and short temper he doesn’t mess around.

21. Watcher-Marshal- Sabs’s second older brother from Relevation Tech. After being nearly killed by her when he attacked her he lost interest and went on his own for a bit until the people from the program tried to take him back. They would have taken him had it not been for Oscar and dragging him to find Sabs. He started working for Mann Co. as someone who gets dirt on anyone. With his teleportation powers he can get in and out of anywhere with no problem.

22. Vigil- Valeria Gomez- A former nun from Columbia who is hailed a hero and a criminal back in her country for taking out cartels. She went to North America for a place to lay low for a while and was recruited by Miss Pauling for work.

And that be it! If you’d like to know more about any of them feel free to ask!

#tf2 oc #tf2 fandom #my ocs #team fortress 2

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pkmnsdarkqueen · 4 years

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Mun talks about her D&D characters for munday

I thought it’d be fun to let ya’ll hear about them. Also I know a ton of them start with L names, I’m sorry and I don’t know how this happened.

Lokni-Human Blood Hunter (TW: death, demons, sex, child neglect, pregnancy complications) Life goal: To kill Raktos the demon Campaign: Ravnica

The current favorite of my friends who I’ve played a few games with. Personally I think he has one of the most tragic backstories but I had to give him an intense one cause he has a very dramatic goal. The campaign is set in Ravnica which for those who don’t know is a setting where most things take place in a large city where power is divided by guilds. My child is in the Raktos guild which is the ones who throw parties put on shows, and run the brothels. Thing is they also kinda murder folks alot, live on the idea of viva la anarchy and they do this to keep their guild leader, a massive demon happy so he doesn’t end the world. Now that you’re caught up his story goes as follows. He was born to two parents, things were great, his mom got preggers, she was out with her husband and got dragged into a Raktos show cause they do that, she was injured and basically it became either save her or her unborn child and he insisted on the child. Dad blames the kid for loosing his wife, neglects teh child, Lokni also a child adopts his dad’s mindset being confused and hurt, family friend of mom takes in unwanted child (she is a centaur by the way), Lokni realizes eventually his dad really doesn’t care about him either as dad slips further into insanity about wanting to bring his wife back, Lokni decides to go apologize to bro who instantly forgives to live with centaur mom. Later they are told their dad is dead getting mixed up with the wrong people (however based on hints from the dm I fear he is not dead and also fear when the dm brings him back). His goal as a character is this: He wants to make sure no family ever ends up ripped apart like his so he wants to kill Raktos and put someone else on the throne, not him cause he recognizes he is not emotionally stable enough to run anything. Although originally I was planning on making him more obsessive about his goals and basically become his dad, obsession and hurt drives people to crazy things, but he kinda ended up finding a 16 year old ghost girl in the woods who’s been stuck to possess a knife and basically was like,”well this child clearly has a rough time in life I’m gonna adopt them!” and fatherhood is forcing this man to rethink things cause murdering Raktos=major trouble and he doesn’t want to rip up this new family he’s making so now considering teleporting him away? changing him to be a good person? Yeh it’s getting complicated. OH and he was kind of forced to drink some potion stuff, cause his boss is crazy (she has a ghost choir that she possibly killed everyone there, complete with a kazoo section cause ya boi Lokni on a whim said it needed more kazoos and she listened to him cause he knows music, he plays the spoons and does magic tricks btw as a job, so clearly he knows what he’s talking about) and ye so he is a fox lycanthropy now.

Lapis Lazuil/Laz-Triton, Cleric. Life goal: Literally be the best monster killer Campaign: Regular D&D 5e

Basically we had a D&D show we were filming at school up until things got too busy with the main show we were producing. This character came before Lokni and we were told,”hey so your characters are monster hunters at this guild but they’ve all kind of been kicked out of their former parties for one reason or another which ya’ll can decide and this is your last chance to stay in the guild.” Me: “cool imma make a triton that hates water, and their a tempest cleric.” Dm: “....why, why are you like this.” Me: “YOU SAID MAKE BAD DECISIONS!” So ye that’s how Laz was made. Her story is that she was adopted by rock genasi. She thinks her parents abandoned her. Truth is they just fell on hard times just before she was born and well couldn’t afford a child so did what they could now trying to find her. So she changed her birth name to be named after a rock like the rest of what she considers her real family. She also has the attitude of the stereotypical highschool cheerleader on disney movies and talks like one too but with a more raspy voice because she is dehydrated, again she hates water because of her hatred for her ‘real family’ and also she genuinely doesn’t like the way it feels,”It’s just liiiike the worst ya know, um like on my skin....yeah so don’t pass out in water or whatever cause like I probs won’t try to heal you....sorry not sorry.” That was literally her first line to the rest of the party. I now use her in one offs and like low key she is alot of fun.

Luc-Pantoran (I forgot the class and the dm still has our character sheets cause thank you virus) Life goal: Clear their name! Campaign: Starwars

So first of all funny thing about this one is that usually I have a gender and voice made pretty early into creating a character. With this person....I did not, like literally I got everything else figured out except these two details so I decided,”You know what! You don’t get either of them!” Their story went like this, they have 12 siblings ok, super rural regular family in the inner planets. All of their siblings are wildly successful and they were average. They knew they couldn’t really succeed like everyone else but hey did find themselves enjoying being a nuisance so basically when asked what they wanted to do with their life they would look up at the adult asking and just go,”Crime.” SO that’s exactly what they did. Once they became an adult they ran off, used sleeping with folks to get what and where they wanted, eventually joined a pirate crew, and life was great. They were so good, and kind of had a thing going with the captain that they became first mate. Pretty recently they realized they didn’t relate to either gender and became non binary, they also are still trying to figure out their voice so it would change rather often. Thing is they got framed for stealing from the captain, and hey they’ve done alot of bad but they HAVE NOT broken trust like that, after all they actually cared about the captain, and for once was considering being just with them instead of sleeping around. Nonetheless they are on the run now trying to clear their name. Their theme as a character is,”hey you know that little voice in your head that tells you not to do something, ye they don’t have that. Just a voice that says, do what ya wanna do pal!”

Clarity-Robot, vault dweller (Tw: death mention, human experimentation, dog experimentation) Life goal: Just see the world Campaign: Fall out

I love this character so much she is a baby however her theme is,”depending on perspectives people can come across as wildly different things.” So If you’ve played fall out no she’s not a Mr. Handy or one of the robots that looks incredibly human like. We decided an amalgamation of the two fit her story better and it was available in the unofficial fall out table top we were playing. She looks humanish, a human like form but with clear casing showing her inner workings and a human mask to try to look more friendly. She’s got on a little yellow dress on too, very vintage, and with the sweetest most innocent sounding voice. She even travels with a Dalmatian who, as a robot could think of only the most appropriate name to describe her grizzled hound, Spot. As for fighting one arm can transform into a flame thrower and the other into a chain saw. Also as a robot she can not go against programming. She also makes comments such as,”I am overjoyed you will not become a plant!” “Oh no don’t pick flowers! I would hate to hurt the plant...” “Are you sure the grass will not mind if I step on it?” If you have played fallout you might know where this is going. Basically there are 2 vaults that are important, both of them are found over grown with plants one containing half human half plant monstrous creatures. Her story is that she was in the vault that laster holds the monstrous creatures. Her programming was to continue the experiment, the experiment to combine humans with plants in an attempt to improve upon humans. She could not tell the humans what she was doing, and she could not stop the experiment until it was complete. There were dogs there under her command to be used as experiments too or keep the plants in line. So the chain saw and flamethrower were to stop unruly plant monsters from attacking her and keep them in line until finally the order came that the experiment was over and she was no longer needed. So she left, secretly horrified by her actions attempting to avoid ever processing what she witnessed fully through her system. She wants to see the world for herself now with her dog friend. Again when people meet her she seems like a sweet angel going so far as to worry about even the feelings of plants, but for anyone who was in that vault they would see her as a very different person.

#d&d #ooc #munday

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thecomicsnexus · 5 years

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SWAMP THING #51-55 AUGUST - DECEMBER 1986 BY ALAN MOORE, RICK VEITCH, ALFREDO ALCALA, JOHN TOTLEBEN AND TATJANA WOOD

SYNOPSIS (FROM DC DATABASE)

With the Great Darkness no longer a threat, Swamp Thing, Deadman, and the Phantom Stranger make their way back to their respective territories. The Stranger will remain in Heaven and make sure that all is right with the territories therein. Deadman will return to the Region of the Just Dead, and Swamp Thing hopes to return to his wife Abby.

Meanwhile, Abby has been arrested, and thrown in a jail cell to await her public defender. The attorney is certain of Abby's guilt, revealing that she has been charged with "Crimes Against Nature." Abby refuses to plea that she was forced into the relationship, considering that her relationship with her husband is consensual. At the hearing, the judge takes little time to condemn Abby's actions, going so far as to suggest that her relationship with the Swamp Thing is made all the more heinous by her position in the child-care profession. Abby is outraged by the suggestion, but the judge is dismissive, and sets bail at fifteen thousand dollars. To her surprise, Abby's boss at Elysium Lawns, Deanna French, pays the bail. Deanna explains with contempt that she is only paying it because Abby was good with the children, and refuses to speak to her again.

Free for the time being, Abby wanders the streets and notices people talking about her behind her back. A woman she recognizes turns away rather than acknowledging her. A man makes repeated perverse phone calls to her. Afterwards, Abby refuses to go out until her preliminary hearing. At the hearing, it is decided that the case will go to the Grand Jury, and the building pressure becomes more than she can take.

Swamp Thing makes his way to The Green from the Region of the Just Dead, and regrows his body in the swamps of Houma. He encounters John Constantine, who has come to pay his respects before going back to England. He admits that while his side of the battle went well, it claimed the lives of his friends Zatara, Sargon, as well as his friends from the Newcastle Crew, while leaving Mento deranged.

With the increasing hostility from the residents of Terrebonne Parish, Abby decides jump bail. She sends a letter to Deanna along with a cheque, promising to pay her back for the rest of the bail money when she can. She disguises herself and goes to the bus station. After a lot of deliberation, she chooses the bus to Gotham City and hopes she can get lost there.

Swamp Thing arrives in Abby's house, but finds it empty and messy. Her clothes and valuables are gone, and he hopes that there is an explanation.

Finally getting to Gotham, Abby immediately regrets her decision. She remembers that Gotham has a darker side, its criminals all deformed or insane. She wishes she'd chosen Metropolis or New York City. She then tries to ask some hookers for directions to a place to stay. The hookers are not very helpful, and before they can give her a useful response, a Vice Squad from Gotham City Police Department nabs them all, including Abby. As she waits in the drunk tank, her name is called as "Cable" despite the fact that she introduced herself as "Holland." Because of this, she deduces that police must have heard from Louisiana about her bail-jumping.

Swamp Thing returns to the swamp, and discovers a newspaper with the headline "Monster Sex Queen Jumps Bail!" Seeing this, and understanding what has happened to his wife, the Swamp Thing goes into a rage. His anger and violence is so powerful that it frightens dogs and children. He promises war in Abby's name. All this occurs despite the Parliament of Trees' warning that he should avoid power and anger.

Driven by his outrage, Swamp Thing speeds across the United States, from Louisiana all the way to Gotham City. Every neighborhood that he blasts through has a trail of flowers and foliage left in his wake. As he enters the more urban part of the city, he senses another who is connected to The Green, and homes in on it.

At Gotham City Police Headquarters, Commissioner Gordon and Harvey Bullock meet with a man from the D.D.I. called Dwight Wicker, who has come on behalf of the US Government to capture the Swamp Thing after he killed General Sunderland. Wicker believes that Abby Cable can lead him to the creature. Bullock warns against allying with Wicker, having done his research, and knowing that the D.D.I. attacked Abby and her husband Matthew several times in the past, to the point of bombing their house. Mr. Wicker is dismissive of the accusation, and demands to be allowed to protect Gotham. Gordon responds that Gotham has its own ways of dealing with menaces.

At Arkham Asylum, Swamp Thing visits with Jason Woodrue, who fears that the creature has come to punish him for abusing The Green. Swamp Thing responds that the wrath of nature is not wrong, nor is it unjust that man should bear the brunt of it. He forgives Woodrue for his anger, and leaves, promising that nobody else in Gotham will be forgiven.

As Bullock attempts to lead Abby into her extradition hearing, she is surrounded by fans and protesters. Someone offers her a rose, and through it, she hears the Swamp Thing calling to her. When she responds, Swamp Thing is overcome by his need for her, and speeds toward her location. By the time Abby gets into the courtroom, she is entirely engrossed in her telepathic conversation with Swamp Thing, and can't speak for herself. She fails to answer the judge's questions, and speaks aloud to Swamp Thing. She drops the rose she's been holding to the floor, and warns that her captors have brought what is coming onto themselves.

As the rose touches the ground, it bursts into life, growing violently out into the form of the enraged Swamp Thing. The guards pull their guns on him, and find that they are ineffective against such a force of nature. In his anger, Swamp Thing brings roots and vines up from the earth, and grows a forest within the courthouse. Even so, he faces more guns. He warns that he cannot be killed by guns, but Abby begs him to let it go for now, worrying that someone will be hurt. Reluctantly he leaves her, warning that nature is more powerful than humans can perceive, and demanding that his wife be returned to him within one hour.

Elsewhere, Mr. Wicker introduces a special consultant to the team meant to track and kill the Swamp Thing. They have paid ten million dollars for a mere ten minutes of consultation with Lex Luthor regarding how to kill an indestructible being.

As the hour he gave them comes to an end, Swamp Thing follows through on his threats, reaching into The Green, and allowing nature to reclaim the land on which Gotham City was built. Trees burst out of asphalt, and vines from cracks in the sidewalk. Children are the first to embrace the jungle, then derelicts, criminals, and lovers. By dusk, the first few converts remove their clothes and go naked in the new hanging gardens of Gotham.

Despite his feeling of satisfaction at bringing paradise to Gotham, Swamp Thing remembers the warnings of the Parliament of Trees and becomes more cautious. He remembers that this is not his city, and high above, the city's real protector watches his city drown in green.

Gotham City is now an overgrown jungle. Much of the city has been completely taken over by vines and plants. This is all the result of the Swamp Thing's vengeance against the city for keeping his wife Abby in custody for sex crimes, after she was caught on film engaging in sex acts with him.

Batman answers the Bat-Signal, arriving at Gotham City Police Headquarters. He assures Commissioner Gordon that he has met the Swamp Thing before, and that he will make an attempt to reason with the creature before things get worse.

As Swamp Thing's hold over the city gets stronger, members of the D.D.I. plot with Lex Luthor to come up with a method by which they can overcome Swamp Thing's invulnerability, and kill him. In doing so, they will eliminate a witness to the underhanded dealings of the D.D.I. Luthor proposes a scrambler that will alter Swamp Thing's frequency, making him unable to leave his body in the event of his death, and regrow elsewhere.

On the outskirts of the city, Chester Williams makes his way on foot along the overgrown highway. On the way, he encounters Wallace Monroe. Both of them have come from Louisiana to see the Swamp Thing, and both have environmentalist ideologies. They decide to join forces, and begin the trek into Gotham.

As he observes his work, the Swamp Thing suddenly hears the sound of saws buzzing through the trunks of the newly grown trees behind him. Suddenly, a Batmobile equipped with enormous circular saws bursts through the growth, and stops in front of the Swamp Thing. From inside, Batman asks to talk. Swamp Thing demands only to have his wife released to him. Batman states that until she has been through the judicial process, her return is impossible. At an impasse, Batman chooses his last resort, and equips a backpack canister and hose filled with defoliant. After releasing the chemical upon the Swamp Thing, he discovers that the creature is more powerful than he had guessed. Several Swamp Things surround him, and beats him into submission. As he walks away, he leaves the message that things will get worse if Abby is not returned.

Later, the commissioner visits with the mayor, but they are interrupted by the sudden appearance of Swamp Thing. He reports that Batman and Gotham itself have fallen to The Green. He commands that his wife be returned to him by dawn, or else Gotham as a city will be completely erased from the map.

Elsewhere, many people from Gotham and beyond have gathered together, worshipping the Swamp Thing as something of a cult god. Chester and Wallace are among them. Chester still has a piece of the hallucinogenic tuber that he picked up months ago, and he still wonders what will happen to him if he uses it. Wallace reveals that he is the same Wallace Monroe who ran away from his pregnant wife after she was exposed to the nuclear waste that saturated the homeless man called Nuke-face. Sadly, his baby was stillborn, and his wife hasn't got much time left either. He is saddened by the fact he can do nothing for her. Seeing what kind of man Wallace is, Chester offers him the remaining piece of the tuber, to ease his wife's pain.

Just before dawn, Batman, the Commissioner, Harvey Bullock, and a retinue of National Guardsmen await the Swamp Thing's retaliation. Batman warns that he wouldn't dare guess at the upper limits of Swamp Thing's power now, and suggests that they release Abby. He expresses distrust of the laws used to charge her. Suddenly, a huge swarm of bugs attacks. As they attempt to maintain composure under the bugs' onslaught, a growing rumbling sets them ill at ease.

They are horrified to discover that the rumbling is the sound of the Swamp Thing inhabiting a giant plant construct built out of redwoods, and – towering over everyone – he addresses Batman and the police. He warns that there are no limits to his power, that he could cause the flora in human intestines to overgrow if tempted. He states that he will have his wife now, with no more delays. As the construct crashes to the ground, Batman insists on speaking to Maryo Skowcroft. Batman warns of the creature's power, and criticizes the charges against Abby. He warns that if charges are to be brought for fraternizing with non-humans, other heroes such as Hawkman, Metamorpho, and even Superman would have to be condemned. Faced with these warnings, the mayor calls Washington, D.C. and negotiates a pardon.

Batman delivers the news of the pardon to Swamp Thing personally, warning that if he ever does this to Gotham again, he will kill the creature. Swamp Thing responds that he believes that Batman actually might. As Swamp Thing arrives at the courthouse, the D.D.I. prepares to launch its attack. Abby emerges from the courthouse and as soon as she sees Swamp Thing, she bursts into tears, and they run toward each other. As they finally embrace, a D.D.I. sniper fires Luthor's frequency scrambler into the back of Swamp Thing's head. He senses that something is wrong immediately, and finds himself unable to leave his body. Desperately, he shoves Abby away, knowing that something bad will soon happen. Moments later, the snipers attack him with napalm. Batman rushes to hold Abby back as the creature is engulfed in flames. As he feels himself dying, Swamp Thing flashes back to the death of Alec Holland, who also burned to death violently. He remembers the Parliament of Trees' warning that he should reject the allure of power and accept the way of calmness. He collapses in a pile of burning ash, and the D.D.I. assure themselves that he didn't survive. The city looks on in horror as Batman feebly attempts to comfort Abby.

Liz Tremayne is alive, and she hasn't left her apartment in nearly three years on the advice of Dennis Barclay, the man who takes care of her, though she had once rejected him so long ago. Liz has become somewhat unhinged due to Dennis' conditioning. She's even afraid to watch television by herself, lest she get electrocuted. Even so, Dennis has been gone for days, and Liz finally gets up the nerve to plug in the television and turn it on. She sees a newscast reporting on the recent events in Gotham City, where Swamp Thing was killed, and Abby Cable – whom Liz believed dead – mourns him. Seeing that Abby is returning to Houma, Louisiana, Liz builds up courage enough to leave her apartment, and seek Abby out.

Abby is nearly inconsolable. Commissioner Gordon informs her that the city is arranging a funeral service for Swamp Thing, and will be happy to pay her expenses from Louisiana to attend. Batman offers that her bereavement needn't destroy her, and that it could make her stronger with time, if she accepts that he is gone. Chester Williams gives her his number, promising to carry on the Swamp Thing's teachings with an environmentalist group. She returns home, and begins tidying her house. When she finds a dead plant, she can't bring herself to throw it out, and collapses on the floor in tears.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings. Abby is surprised to see Liz Tremayne standing there at her door because she had believed that Liz died three years ago, just as Liz thought the same of her. Abby soon learns that Liz believes that the Sunderland Corporation is still in full operation under the leadership of General Sunderland, and that she has been kept inside by Dennis for her own protection. Of course, Abby knows that General Sunderland has been dead for years, and begins to realize that Dennis has caused Liz to become mentally unbalanced. Her friend is no longer the sharp reporter she once was.

Meanwhile, Dennis realizes that Liz is missing. He sees the map with Houma circled on it, grabs a machine gun out of a drawer, and heads to Houma as well. Abby hears a knock at the door, and when she answers it, and recognizes Dennis, he opens fire. Fortunately, Abby dodges the bullets, but Dennis forces his way into the house in search of Liz. When he finds her, he warns that she could have been caught by Sunderland, and he tries to convince her that Abby is a spy, and that the real Abby was killed three years ago.

As he grabs Liz, Abby smashes a vase over his head, grabs Liz, and they run for the swamps. Liz's confusion makes her slow to escape. Her sick relationship with Dennis has tricked her into thinking that her dependence on him is some kind of love, but the sickness in his eyes disturbs her. Dennis chases them down in his truck until it won't go any further, and he has to continue on foot. Apparently, after Liz had rejected him, and they were attacked by Sunderland, he had concocted this situation as a means of ensuring that Liz would stay with him.

As she drags Liz through the swamp, Abby has fond memories of being with the Swamp Thing there, and is saddened by her loss. She presses on, however, trying to imagine how he would help her if he were there. She thinks that he would use the surroundings to his advantage, and tries to do the same. They head toward a grove filled with flowers, and she forces Liz to skirt around the edge of the grove with her. Dennis catches up to them and charges forward, only to discover that the flowers are actually floating on the surface of a deep body of water. Angry, but undeterred, he swims toward them, warning that there will be repercussions for running from him. As he nears the other side, where Abby and Liz are cowering, he suddenly screams in pain as a number of alligators devour him in a flurry of scales and teeth.

Abby and Liz return home finally. Abby puts in a call to Chester, and offers to help in his environmental group. She accepts Commissioner Gordon's invitation to the funeral, and asks him to pass on her thanks to Batman for his earlier advice.

In Gotham City, Abby Holland attends a funeral arranged by the city for the Swamp Thing. The whole thing seems somewhat ineffectual. She wants him back.

A statue is erected, and Commissioner Gordon offers a eulogy, apologizing for the city's shortsightedness and closed-mindedness when it came to the Swamp Thing's love for Abby. Abby feels that the apology isn't enough. She notes that despite having helped the Justice League of America on more than one occasion, only Batman has attended. She had brought her friend Liz to the funeral because the woman was so broken that she couldn't be by herself. Chester Williams and Harvey Bullock also attended.

Abby has a vivid memory of a time when she had returned to the swamp from her job at Elysium Lawns, and found the Swamp Thing sitting silently at the edge of some water. She talked and talked, but received no response, until finally she embraced him, and he fell apart. She was horrified until he appeared behind her, comforting her, and explaining that the thing she had been talking to was merely a husk left behind after growing a new body elsewhere. Still shaken, Abby begged him never to die; to be there forever. He promised he would.

John Constantine and the Phantom Stranger watch the proceedings from further back in the crowd. Neither has seen or heard any indication that the Swamp Thing is still on earth, and they worry that this death may be permanent. All the same, they have only come to pay their respects, and having done so, they depart.

Representing the superhuman community, Batman provides his own eulogy, condemning the anonymous organization that murdered the Swamp Thing. During the speech, Abby fantasizes that Swamp Thing has returned, and that the people of Houma have forgiven her and are ashamed that they shunned her relationship with him. They are set to be married, officially at the Gotham courthouse, but suddenly the scene shifts to the memory of Swamp Thing being destroyed by napalm there.

Abby is brought out of the disturbing reverie by the touch of a hand on her shoulder. A small man in glasses introduces himself as Boston Brand. He informs her that he has checked out the places the Swamp Thing might have ended up, and that he wasn't anywhere throughout the Spirit World. He suggests that she not give up hope in this life that Swamp Thing will return. As Deadman leaves his host, the man suddenly realizes where he is, and Abby, who has never met Boston Brand, slaps him across the face. Bullock arrests him while Batman continues his speech.

Batman expresses regret that Gotham has wronged Abby so deeply, and offers her a chance to speak her mind; a chance to - if nothing else - condemn Gotham for its lack of understanding. Abby, however, is at a loss for words. She places a red rose on the monument, and states that she has nothing to say out loud. Inside, Abby begs to know where the Swamp Thing is. She hopes that, somehow, God will look down on the world, and realize that a mistake was made. The attendees soon begin filing away, moving on with their lives.

Somewhere, on an unknown alien planet, Swamp Thing grows a new body out of the native vegetation.

REVIEW

I am not sure Dennis Barclay is in character in this story. I understand he is possibly going through PTSD, but he didn’t seem to have this kind of inclinations before (although, he certainly had some low self-esteem and insecurities). Having said that, I never felt much for the guy.

This is Lex Luthor’s first post-crisis appearance. You can tell this is the case because of Luthor’s chin and suit. This is not the known criminal from pre-crisis. Likewise, Batman looks darker, even when his supporting cast is still looking like pre-crisis, it does seem like Batman is already in New Earth.

Now about the story. Any kind of terrorism is wrong, but at the same time, you have to sympathize with Swamp Thing here. His love has been considered illegal and he won’t stand that. It makes sense in this world where good and evil are not black and white. If society decided that I cannot marry someone of my same sex (something that for a certain amount of time in my life was true), and I had super-powers, I may have been inclined in shaking the status quo. However, Swampy was warned not to fall into anger, as anger and power are a dangerous combination. I think he went too far, but nobody seemed to be willing to listen to what they were trying to say otherwise.

I am also not very convinced (yet) as to why Swampy ended up in a distant planet. Luthor’s weapon didn’t really make it for me. If Moore wanted Swampy to explore space, I would have sent him into a space shuttle and blow it up (but I guess in 1986, people were too sensitive about that).

I am not particularly happy to see the Sunderland corporation again, but at least he is tying loose ends.

As usual, Swamp Thing by Alan Moore, is paired with very good artists that can make Moore’s scripts into a reality. These issues look beautiful.

I give this arc a score of 9

#steve bissette #dc comics #comics #review #1986 #modern age #swamp thing #batman #batman80 #lex luthor

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the-penny-dreadfuls · 6 years

Photo

Veronica Gedeon had stars in her eyes. She was born in 1917 in Astoria, Queens to Joseph and Mary Gedeon. The Gedeon family lived a modest life, and worked hard to make ends meet. Veronica, known as “Ronnie” to family and friends, dreamed of something more. Whether it was through acting or modeling, Veronica wanted her name to be known. She was young, beautiful, and highly ambitious; everything seemed possible. By the age of twenty Veronica managed to land several commercial modeling roles in Long Island City, and was quickly becoming a favorite model amongst art and photography scene. A majority of her gigs were for pin-up work. Veronica often graced the covers of crime-orientated periodicals, including two of the most popular at that time; Inside Detective and Headquarters. Scantily dressed, the young model would pose in disturbing scenes, typically appearing to be tied up and beaten. This would be a tragic foreshadowing for the end of Veronica Gedeon.

The year was 1937. New York City was still in the unrelenting grasp of the Great Depression, and its citizens were looking for a distraction. Fortunately, it was Easter Sunday. It was the cheery sort of holiday people so desperately needed. The weather was nice, and families were out and about, enjoying the holiday festivities. A feeling of optimism buzzed throughout the air. The Gedeons were amongst these happy families. Although Joseph and Mary were recently separated, the family had planned celebrate the holiday together at Mary’s house, where she often rented out rooms to borders. Ethel, Veronica’s older sister, arrived Sunday morning with her husband. Her father, Joseph, was already there, waiting. He had no key to get in, and despite how loudly he knocked, no one would answer. This worried Ethel. She unlocked the door, and the three quickly went inside to investigate.

Music played throughout the house, so they assumed someone must be home. They called out for Mary and Veronica as they cautiously walked from room to room. When they reached Veronica’s bedroom, they came upon a horrid surprise. There was Veronica sprawled across the bed, face down. She was naked, and there were bruises on her neck. The young model was clearly dead.

This would be the first gruesome discovery. In another room they found Franklin Burns, an English man who had been renting from Mary for some time. He had been stabbed multiple times in both the head and neck. The murder weapon was long and sharp. Investigators would theorize it was likely an ice pick.

The police were called. At this time, Mary was nowhere to be found. Her family hoped that this meant she had escaped the brutal attack, and she was now lost or hiding somewhere, disorientated. Mary would be later located while investigators did a more thorough search inside the house. Her body was discovered under Veronica’s bed. Like her daughter, Mary had also been strangled. Although she appeared fully dressed, Mary’s under garments had been removed. The autopsy results would show that neither Mary nor Veronica were subjected to sexual assaults. Also within the autopsy results was the evidence of contents in Mary’s stomach. Its progress in the victim’s digestive track would show that she had been killed late Saturday night, between the hours of 10 PM and midnight. This would correlate with a statement given by a neighbor, who told police he had heard a fight at 11 PM.

Investigators went right to work, but found it difficult to maneuver around the growing crowd of reporters. It was common during this time period that photo journalists would appear on the scene, even if the investigation was on going. It was the perfect headline; a triple murder on Holy Easter Morning. Once word got out, there was no chance of keeping the media away. The police tried their best to salvage any evidence they could. They saw that there had been no signs of forced entry, and all of the Gedeon’s valuables were accounted for. Oddly, the only thing that appeared to be missing was a small alarm clock that sat on Veronica’s desk. There was nothing particularly remarkable about it, other than the fact that the hands glowed in the dark, and investigators found it strange that any burglar would want it. It must have been someone the victims knew, they reasoned.

As they combed through the house, the police discovered a diary that Veronica had stashed away. Within its page they would find their first clue. Several times Veronica alluded to a man that she was afraid of. She wrote no name; only the letter B. There were several men in Veronica’s life that this initial could belong to.

Investigators first turned to Stephen Butter. Stephen was a seemingly nice young man, who worked as a messenger on Wall Street. He and Veronica were often seen together, and he would sometimes pick her up from her modeling gigs. But before investigaors could even locate him for an interview, Butter contacted them. He called the Gedeon house, looking for Veronica, while evidence was still being actively collected. Police would not tell Butter where Veronica was, but instead asked him to come by the station for an interview. Assuming something terrible must have happened, Stephen went there right away. During the interview, police learned that Veronica and Stephen had been out that Saturday night. Butter claimed that they had returned around 3 AM on Sunday. The last time he saw Veronica was when she walked through her home’s door. It was then the officers let Butter know why he was there. Upon hearing of Veronica’s murder, the young man became grief stricken and broke into a fit of sobs. The police found his reaction to be completely genuine. Stephen Butter was ruled out as a suspect.

The police moved on to the next “B” on their list. It was Veronica’s ex husband, Bobby Flowers. The couple had married at the age of sixteen. The relationship did not last. They were both young and dumb, and agreed they clearly made a mistake. The marriage ended on good terms, and they still occasionally met up. The last time Bobby saw Veronica was a week before her death. However, Flowers would have to be ruled out too. He had worked late that night, selling hot dogs at an event. His alibi checked out with his boss and dozens of customers to back him up.

Although the jilted lover theory still seemed plausible, especially when Veronica’s wide ranged social life was taken into consideration, investigators could not look away from Joseph Gedeon. They first became suspicious of him after telling Joseph that his daughter and former wife had both been murdered. Mr. Gedeon’s reaction had been cool and nonchalant; hardly anything in comparison to the scene Stephen Butter created. Joseph’s guilt seemed to come more into focus as investigators continued to talk to him. The man openly spoke of his dislike of Mary. Their relationship had been rocky, and he was glad to be rid of her. Joseph was also clear in his disagreement over Veronica’s career choices. He found it shameful that his daughter would choose to show herself off like that to men. He said that Veronica was a tease, and it was not a surprise that she had been killed in such a way.

Just like Bobby Flowers, Joseph had an alibi for that night. He had spent the evening at a bar, getting drunk and playing skee ball with a friend. However, when the police would question this friend, they learned there had been a period of time where Joseph could not be accounted for. It happened to be the exact time when the murders occurred. Joseph Gedeon was taking in for questioning, where he was subjected to brutal interrogation tactics. The police wanted a confession, and were willing to do anything to get it. Despite the brutal beatings he received, Joseph Gedeon would not change his statement; he did not kill anyone. He would later be released after his neighbor came forward to police, saying that he had seen a drunk Joseph return during that time. He did not leave.

As investigators dug deeper into Veronica’s diary, they found that on several occasions the model had wrote of “B”s infatuation with her older sister, Ethel. She found the one sided relationship to be unsettling, and openly expressed her disapproval. In her diary she wrote, "He will never marry her if I have anything to do with it. I am going to take the matter up with Mother. She will help put the kibosh on it.”

Police asked Ethel who Veronica was referring to. Ethel was mildly shocked by the question. It was Bob Irwin, she told them. Irwin had once been a border of Mary’s. He was considered a pleasant young man and a talented artist. His main line of work was sculptures. Ethel claimed that Irwin got along with everyone in the family, and couldn’t have possibly hurt, let alone killed anyone. In regards to Veronica’s writing, she explained that Irwin indeed had a crush on her at one point, but Ethel only saw him as a friend, and was already engaged to another man at the time. Irwin would later move out of the Gedeon house, but he still stopped by on occasion.

Bob Irwin was now the prime suspect. Upon further investigation, the police dug up his disturbing past. Irwin had come from a broken family. His mother was a religious fanatic, who devoted all of her time to worshiping and incoherent raving rather than caring for her three boys. The father had long vanished, and Irwin’s brothers both held a long criminal history. Bob had a few run-ins with the law himself. He prone to explosive outbursts of rage, and had been fired multiple times from jobs after getting into physical altercations with coworkers. Irwin had also spent much of his life going in and out of psychiatric hospitals. Investigators would learn that Bob Irwin did not have a mere crush on Ethel; it was total obsession. Irwin referred to them as soul mates, and would do anything to be with the woman he loved. In a way, he also hated Ethel. Irwin believed that his best works of art would be created through a method he referred to as “visualization”. With visualization, he could form his work only by conjuring up a perfect image of it in his mind, and then building it with pure mental power. This method, as much as Irwin believed in it, would be difficult to use. He blamed his sex drive for getting in the way and distracting him. Earlier, Irwin’s cure for this was performing a castration on himself by attempting to cut off his genitals. The operation was unsuccessful, and afterwards he was committed to Rockland mental facility for three years. Now the problem with his sex drive had returned, and he believed Ethel was the one to blame. Irwin decided he must get rid of her.

On the night of March 20th, 1937 Bob Irwin made his way to the Gedeon residence with the intention of murdering Ethel. He had brought along a shaprened ice pick to do the job. Irwin wanted to make the kill quick and clean to not damage Ethel’s beauty. He was greeted by Mary, who was happy to see him. She invited her former border inside. Right away Irwin brought up Ethel. He asked when she was going to be home. Mary was confused; Bob knew Ethel didn’t live there any longer. She reminded him, gently, and tried to move on to another subject. Irwin would not let it go. He continued to ask for Ethel, up to the point when Mary had enough. She told Irwin to leave, and when he would not, she threatened to get Franklin Burns, her current border, who was sleeping in a room nearby. This is when Bob Irwin snapped.

“The room was blue with death,” he later said. “There wasn't anything I could do.”

In a fit of rage, Irwin grabbed a hold of Mary’s neck and strangled her to death. He then hid the body under a bed. Veronica was due home at any minute. Irwin began to prepare for the event. He would later claim that he had no intention on killing Veronica. His plan was to knock her unconscious with a bar of soap wrapped in cloth. Just as Stephen Butter said, Veronica returned at 3 AM. She went into her room, where she undressed and prepared to go to bed. Irwin then attacked. He knocked Veronica several times over the head, trying to render her unconscious. When that did not work, he became furious and began to strangle the young woman. Irwin had been behind her, and believed that she couldn’t know the identity of her attacker. Veronica managed to get out a few words. She called Bob Irwin by name, and begged him to stop. Irwin was shocked that she knew who it was. It was then that he knew decided Veronica must be killed too. After the life had been choked out of her, Irwin left Veronica’s still nude body across the bed.

Both murders had been loud, but not loud enough to wake Franklin Burns. The Englishman was deaf in one ear, and had been sleeping on the wrong side that night. Irwin, who had been introduced to Burns earlier that evening, knew that he had to get rid of this potential witness too. He stabbed Franklin Burns eleven times in the head and the neck, using the pick axe that was originally meant for Ethel.

After speaking with Ethel, the police were sure they had their man. They went to the last known residence Bob Irwin was staying, but when they arrived they learned Irwin had fled two days earlier. The police called out a city wide man hunt, enlisting the help of the media and any willing citizen. The only trace of their prime suspect was his abandoned suitcase that had left at Grand Central Station. Inside the suitcase was the small alarm clock that had been taken from Veronica Gedeon’s room. It was the first piece of physical evidence to link him to the crime. But Bob Irwin could be anywhere.

The staff of Inside Detective had been greatly affected by the murder of one of their models. Their careers had been surrounded by horrific tales of crime, but no one had expected it could happen to one of their own. Those at Inside Detective, Veronica “Ronnie” Gedeon was known as a sweet and kind hearted girl, but the headlines that reported her death told the tale of another girl. To the media and now most of New York City, Veronica was nothing more than a prostitute, who lived a dangerous and troubling life style. She was not a victim of a terrible crime; she had only herself to blame. The editor of Inside Detective was angry at what the press was turning that sweet girl into. He decided to fight back. He wrote his own editorial, speaking of Veronica’s kindness and good natured personality. He wrote about her good work ethic, and how her job was just a job. She was only trying to make ends meet, just like everyone else. Veronica was intelligent and happy and had her whole life ahead of her; it wasn’t fair.

Inside Detective would begin an investigation of their own. They were the ones who tracked down Joseph Gedeon’s neighbor, ultimately freeing him from the police’s suspicion. In one edition of their publication, Veronica was once again placed on the cover. They wrote an article about her case, and included a photograph of Bob Irwin. Inside Detective’s public reach was far more than the NYPD could make. It may have been a long shot, but they were determined to get justice for Veronica.

A copy of this publication would end up in the hands of a female hotel worker in Cleveland, Ohio. As she read it, the woman noticed that the photograph of Bob Irwin looked an awful lot like one of her new coworkers. This man also happened to be named Bob, although he did have a different last name. When the woman went to question him about it, Bob panicked and ran from the hotel. The police were alerted, but Bob Irwin once again avoided arrest.

In the end, Bob Irwin would turn himself in. He called up the Chicago Examiner one day, and said he would give them his confession. All that he asked for in return was $5,000, a white, linen suit, and a panama hat. The Chicago Examiner agreed. They met with Irwin at a hotel, and over a fine meal he gave his full confession. He admitted to taking the Veronica’s alarm clock, claiming that the green, glowing hands reminded him of eyes and it upset him. Irwin also apologized for murdering three people; only meant to kill one. After the confession was published, he was then sent back to the New York City police, where he was arrested for the triple murders.

Bob Irwin was sentenced to life in prison. His stay did not last long. After an examination by psychiatrists, Irwin was transferred to a facility for the criminally insane, where he remained until he passed away at the age of 67.

#Veronica Gedeon #True Crime #tcoriginal #Bob Irwin #tcc #pop culture #famous deaths

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renatedagmarmilada · 7 years

Text

actual art work sent to USA Human Research New York

quote from lab st barths Hum Res- make up another bundle of stolen Fekete works to send to the USA for them to copy as their own work.. stolen-- 1,500 paintings A4, A3, A2 many of them ART COLLEGE AND ART SCHOOL works. 1000 + drawings..as above 2900 poems...

Isobel, daughter of Manager ALLAN Finchley, all his children and wife used Fekete work to further themselves, degree work, art work and poetry etc traced round Fekete paintings and embroidered them for lab, was paid £350 for it.m/s ''It is not one of these, but you would know it if you saw it.'' Mrs Ann Meyer made £3000+ sending drawings traced from your work to design centres for her husband.. and the rest...

New York Human Research lab has been told to do as the lab st barths Human Research has done in England, to get all its cheats and liars Jewish,mainly former lovers and women friends of boss George-former Russian /Jewish plea/to skim all Fekete/my work. it came from above, the Ministries?/ No, it was ANNA jun sec Min of Health and the lab cheats and thieves idea.. However, ANNA gave former lovers families Fekete work to use for themselves- Arthur Civil Servant, wife and daug...

Put enough pressure on Fekete and she will go-- Jean Carsted Beaumond.. and ...//st barths human research/

Human Research has many new nasties it's staffs illegitimate children being groomed at the lab as future managers across the nation /ie M&S etc/ have everyone of them to try out on me, ANNA and the Ministry of Health decided to use my little not too strong body after a life time as refugee etc for practice- you know, exactly like CAMP 5 AUSCHWITZ..//quote- ANNA : all her life has been so bad, she will barely notice what we are doing to her.. but this one even surprised me - ...

Welsh- the rabble got Fekete. No the lab- a little known group, used the rabble to get Fekete for them. ...quote- we were trying to get her to leave, once she goes we are clear-- our licence and jail hover..

390 of your paintings were sent to New York Human Research last week from st barths Human Research for them to copy -by friends of the lab staff and chief.More than forty were already there.

seems like if you committed murder anywhere in the world you come to UK to live -no law - Ghanian stole for Lab st barths Hum Res which is tied to Ministry of Health so all the civil servants know, with friend, also here, killed a man with their machete.. they ''had '' to Abdul, Upperthorpe flats, Addis str-- murdered a farm boy, no he didn't have to.. all three Syrians and egyptians have long criminal records?????????? been given brand new 3 bedr houses..shall we make lists... YES, the country HAS gone to the dogs.. we fought to come to this place.. what a shit hole it has become.. I would say nothing if we hadn't had to go through massive security clearancing when we came after WW2

quote --several white kids in Sheffield ECCLESFIELD SCHOOL are now using your degree work for their school work..

quote--fag ash woman Upperthorpe springvale flats 2, heavy into drugs, up the snicket, had about 80 of your smaller paintings, top ones, - she has given them to one of her ''lovers'' to sell, and share the profits..Simon Beaumond, operative at st barths Hum Res fixed that one up, he has also written my work and as for his second wife and kids.. well.....Jean Carsted and Clare.....words fail me.

Dexit jetzt! Deutschland raus aus der EU!

ha ha ha!!

illustration from one of my books /9 books ready for print, stolen in box with all back up CD's by James Briggs.from my loft/

Anna jun sec Min of Health, put every dirty thought she ever had onto the file, st baths Human Research, program paid for by Kissinger, for one hundred years, the majority of which Fekete doesn't have a clue about or even know about..

from the street black guys= Upperthorpe Sheffield.. we have 98 of your paintings which we stole from your home, left here.. not sold yet, we sell a few at a time. Others, Syrians etc have also stolen your drawings..

how the tables are turning...

Lester Piggott rode his last Derby winer in 1983. What was the horse's name... and why was he savaged (some know) and yet there is a killer, whom we all know, say the lab St Barths here in Sheff. no one is doing anything about- I see him almost everyday..

quote--there must have been something to start this off-- a Scunthorpe GP made a rather unsavory remark to Fekete and then asked St Barths Human Research to watch her incase she reported him. So they used her- and her family. They had been roving the country secretly for 50 years and interfering in private citizens lives, so this was the culmination..

quote-James Briggs is in trouble again- he keeps getting off. Is it the lab because he robbed Fekete dry for them? yes, using him for experiments to change the course of the law..as they did for Fekete's son. Feed the answers remote

at first I used just a few of Fekete's lines, then I began using it wholesale, no one says anything.. work robbed by our young men from her home. Black woman... You have it on the strength of this work //robbed from my home//

Who is your grandmama, fantastic... the west indians liars are saying they got my work from their grandmother-- began in 2012 when the Briggs brothers stole wood carving of nun my ex husband brought me from working in South Africa, I treasured, all left from him.. he told the woman he sold it to that he was given it by an old black woman.. God the west indians are such liars..they are ofcourse all on the scanner..

Must admit I could kick myself now, I had so many offers to sell my pictures, from abroad too- but was saving till I could have one or two exhibition here- before selling .. You just do not expect that the west indian young men of a whole city, of all the people to attack in the world, tol rob you of literally thousands of paintings and all your writings, including several degrees, many years and years of work, leaving nothing behind, nothing besides all the goods they robbed, down to felt tips and water colour paint boxes /some costing for me, a lot of money, a whole week's pension/-the work of 35 years, and that breaking into someone's home is not a crime, week in week out.. I can only say what some said about Hitler Germany--- I thought Enlgand was a democratic country..

quote -Anna has her hatchet men in the lab now.Does she really need this on one small elderly teacher?.this morning: if only we could tie FEKETE to some crime, or sexual act, but it is impossible. Now let's start on her daughter..Keep the family members separate from each other and block contacts.

ANDY so called,singer UPPERTHORPE Sheffield. I made £3,000 on on Fekete's work, on a CD stole her paintings and her scripts. Six of us WEST INDIANS did -- Earl up Crooksmoor road Sheffield. and we all broke into the old teacher's home and robbed her..so much for the black young men of sheffield, robbing a 72 year old every item. and our Ministries, THEFT EVEN WHEN IT IS TOTAL IS NOT A CRIME IN THE UK.. The Briggs James and Edward brothers, west indians began stealing my degree work back in 2012 and have been sending off songs from it since. their cousin William uses it for his work. the west indian list is endless...

quote-I am not a painter, but a copyist--London painter, 40ish bald, long hair to shoulders at back- The lab st barths Human Research gave me some two dozen of your paintings with order to copy exactly in oils. I have copied half a dozen now, they buy them..

ANNA jun sec Min of Health and Op Alyson have sent 500 of Fekete's paintings all over the place, many to America to be copied or used by cheats Human Research lab used there..

The Prince should ask for FEKETE'S work to be returned, we can find anything now with the lab machine. HE can't because that would imply he had permitted its robbing from Fekete's home.The Royals are keeping a low profile in the matter. It seems nothing, but it is the biggest thing around at the moment. He did, in a round about way..

m/s MURMANSK Human Research still has to come to St barth hum res to try out tortures etc-- NO, WE ARE NOT COMING, YOU PEOPLE ARE SICK..

quote this morning- on tram- there is hardly an Arab in your area who hasn't got some of your clothes, work, goods etc - stolen goods is meaningless to them. The three thieves, two Syrians and one Egyptian have made a pact of sorts..

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ratherhavetheblues · 5 years

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INGMAR BERGMAN’S ‘THE MAGICIAN’: “It was war, and the enemy stalked…”

This is a film so dependent upon its sense for Bergman’s previous output, and even for Bergman’s subsequent work, that it sustains the adage, “Go full out, or forget about it entirely.” But adages can be wrong; and here we welcome one and all to a breathtaking tone poem, which we hope can benefit from a few suggestions.

On the face of it, The Magician (1958), features an intense protagonist, leading a crew so heterogeneous as to wonder how their objectives can succeed. They first come to us in the countryside, at a pause in their horse-driven coach. The vehicle is affixed with the sign, “Vogler’s Magic Health Theatre.” The black and white optics induce silhouette along a ridge, the virtual trademark of the film, The Seventh Seal (1957), where a couple, Jof and Marie ply the far-flung roads in a caravan advertising their circus musicale.Those two carnies manage to transcend the deadliness of the ridge (the seduction of death and its happy ending), by virtue of Jof’s blessing of his baby boy, to be a great acrobat and a juggler capable of an impossible trick.Although Jof and Marie made their breakaway in the 12th century, those traces of magic lean heavily upon Vogler, in Sweden, in the 19th century.Therefore, while far from playful banter disturbs the “Health Theatre,” the opportunity to see deeply into the nature of conflict never flags.

During that stopover, two of Vogler’s company, not for the first time, you can be sure, express that they hate what the other loves. A happy-go-lucky marketing and PR director of the caravan’s catchy affairs, namely, Tubal, devours a heavy lunch in the clover. Though earthy to quite a degree, he stunts his better self in order to harry a very old woman (Vogler’s grandmother, in fact) who, in his eyes and nose, reeks of offensive obsolescence.The old lady busies herself with finding herbs for her manufacture of the “health” area of the theatre, while frequently urging her grandson to fire a figure dangerously crude. Leaving aside, for the moment,Vogler and his assistant-showman, as the coach resumes, Tubal, sneers, “You and your mandrake and your severed fingers, and other mischief.” As if she were some kind of relative of the old and opinionated genius, in Bergman’s Smiles of a Summer Night (1955)—actress,Niama Wilstrand covering both roles—she fires back, “Spirits used to howl so loudly in this forest [as did the forest where Jof and Marie parted company with the mainstream] that no one dared enter after sundown. I remember it well…” The canny, though perhaps not fully savvy, one, thinks to prevail by reminding the oldster, and the other two, that he’s the only functional businessman in the coach. “How would Vogler’s Magic Health Theatre manage without Tubal, I ask you…”

Turning to the stylish and rather impressively silent other two, being obviously the stars of the show, their first coming to us is a very slight vignette of them surveying, on that same ridge, a sort of mine shaft with a ladder reaching out.In the course of elevating his sense of the salt of the earth, Tubal snaps out, “Who bailed you out in Copenhagen at night, and at risk to his life, after the Danish Tour went to hell?”Though the silent ones fail to shine in the coach, Vogler gives us some indication about his strong suit when the so-called health theatre comes upon a dying man in the lake-land. Granny alone had heard the latter’s cries, and Vogler alone had gone to meet more than irate cops. He gently addresses the alcoholic wreck in question, with, “Good day, sir…” The rescued man without hope replies, “My name is Johan Spegel [mirror].(We’ll have to figure out later if that designation is valid.Moreover, we must also await for the validity of the exchange of “bird catcher” in the moniker, Vogler.Could the boss-man be running on empty?) That the dying man, an actor, readily sees through the elaborate disguise Vogler deploys—panther-black hair and beard, and game-face, black, carriage-trade outlaw to all—somewhat crimps what style there might be. That the dying man soon reveals to Vogler, and to us, his cascading cynicism(detectable before any conversation), allows us to realize that the protagonist, instinctively not sharing the nihilism of the wreck, deploys a chivalry about those who have striven and fallen. (Those who have not striven would be something else. But along with this complication, one of many, there would be the remarkable matter of short cuts to a questionable striving. (A war, indeed; but a war with a bewildering range of theatres.)Pausing on the walk to the coach, the actor/ mirror overacts to the tune of, “I’ve always longed for a knife, a blade to lay bare my entrails, set my brain and heart free, free me from my substance… and cut away my tongue and my manhood. A blade that would carve out all my uncleanliness. Then this so-called spirit would rise up from this meaningless carcass…”

At the last moment of the actor’s screed (now installed in the caravan), he asks Manda, the other careful dresser, about what kind of reading a smart young performer would prefer.The answer, “ a novel about swindlers,” comes as somewhat of a surprise, from such a seemingly serene, almost doe-like centre of grace.Even more surprise results from Manda’s bitter outlook. “Deception is so prevalent that those who speak the truth are usually branded as the greatest liars…” That elicits, from the reckless negator, a spate of shoot-to-kill. “The author presumes there’s a great general thing called truth, somewhere out there. That theory is pure illusion.” That theory is also pure Tubal, the majoritarian, would-be top-dog in reveling that he’s sitting on a quorum to quell inklings that he doesn’t have what it takes.He sneers at the aristocratic reader (in fact, actress Ingrid Thulin, dressed in male styles), “So much for your reading, Mr. Aman.” Manda fires back, “Mr. Tubal shouldn’t speak with his mouth full…” [a mouth full of hate and raw meat]. That skirmish somewhat consolidates that the dandies have some kind of purchase, however lacking earthy force, upon an exigency prone to embarrassment, while occupying the orbit of, from one angle, the fancy-free untouchable dowager, in Smiles of a Summer Night.

What seemed at first to be a kind of eccentric road saga has developed into a war story. Tubal’s rounding out the argument, with smug recourse to the popular will—“I find this business about truth devilishly interesting. It’s a beautifully passion. My head sits on my neck… That’s an absolute truth, and I like such truths. You’re very amusing. I have no care for the past or the future. I’m a lily of the field”—constitutes a run-up to far more violence, just around the corner. As the actor dies, eliciting from Vogler a sadness, Tubal quips that the corpse is a nuisance for an affair of making a financial success of the business of imminently wowing the burghers of Stockholm.At this juncture, the coach is imperiously intercepted at a police roadblock, and the company of diverse players comes into another moment of truth. Having been forewarned by virtue of Tubal’s advanced announcement about a magic health theatre, the City’s health watchdog, Dr. Vergerus, along with a pliable police chief and wealthy deletant, Egerman (the name of the lawyer rounded up by Desiree, in Smiles of a Summer Night), stages an inquisition of crimes against holy science—a proponent of literal truth far more single-minded than Tubal.(The proto-Nazi husband/ medic pushing his poetic wife into a mental hospital, in Bergman’s Through a Glass Darkly[1961]iterates the helmsman’s disdain for careless dotage upon overrated and very dangerous idols.)

On being deposited outside of Egerman’s mansion, and left there for a long time(to digest that enemies rule) we come to realize that, whereas the rest of the crew maintain considerable composure, Vogler uses a cane, a pipe and a hunched position.Whereas, particularly, Manda’s face is poised, as if confronting those who don’t know how lucky they are to be in her elevated presence (her directing her eyes upon the detainers, in the wake of the first moment when the notables have their back to them and continue to snigger) and her entering the house having been regal, Vogler is a picture of stress, covering his face with one hand.Hearing from Tubal that Vogler is mute (mute-seeming, for the same effort of synthesis on the part of Elisabet, in Bergman’s, Persona[1966]), the inquest settles for Manda’s account, and it’s not only smooth but revelatory. Vergerus presents evidence that the bad-asses conduct “magic seances.” Looking at the technocrat straight in the eyes, she states, as if the mere thought could never cohere with someone as cool as she is, she tells the attacker, “We didn’t say that,” [the promotional hacks having rushed to childishness].The learned doctor then shifts to the scandalous notion that this rabble presumes to “heal the sick.” During her rather brazen denial of that, we see that Vogler is as unsatisfied as the prosecutor. Though petrified by the audit, that subject of lifting the frail hits, for the strange leader, a nerve, entirely absent in the spokesperson.(What troubling eddies of sensibility have come to stay, over and beyond facile provocation?)Vergerus, nothing if not a facile, but clearly murderous,provocateur, trots out the well-known zeal about the prisoner’s study for the reflections of one, Franz Mesmer (1734-1815), he, of the matter of, “animal magnetism” and “natural energy transference.”The earlier non-banter about “truth” thereby segues toward a more nuanced theatre of sensibility. (I’m reminded here of Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight[2015], to wit, “Nobody said it would be easy.”/ “Nobody said it would be this hard.”)Amidst the crazy bumper-car zone to come, we must be on the look-out, within the spin, for those dramatic ideas turning a bilious plunge into an invigorating discovery.

Not getting anywhere in face of Manda’s sang froid, the special prosecutor uses some hands-on toward Vogler to determine if this terrorist leader can prove that there is any substance to the claim of being bereft of speech—a proof to the contrary being tantamount, in the doctor’s view, of fraud all across the cosmos. (As this third degree becomes necessary, there is a rather remarkable out-of-the-blue by Tubal, shooting down the idea that the business could dabble in “supernatural powers.” Of course, his patented materialism would be a slam-dunk; but, as we close into the heart of the drama, we shall have to adjust to the practical guy being actually more viably uncanny, Mesmer-like, than Vogler and Manda.)The doctor, not accustomed to arguing against his bright lights, performs upon Vogler a scrutiny of his mouth.He shoves the badly-self-possessed but garishly-promoted stranger—having been touted by Tubal as, “a big name on the Continent” [not a welcome idea to a megalomaniac vigilante against non-scientists]—into a chair, grabs a lamp, and orders the target to hold it. Before making his analysis, he delights in reproving, “Why such furious looks? You have no reason to hate me. I only want to ascertain the truth. That should be your wish as well.” The glare in the defendant’s eyes is supplemented by the local big name’s grabbing his rival’s chin, thrusting open his mouth and jerking his subject’s head back. “Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue.” After that, the doctor pushes his mouth closed, and reports, “I find no reason for your muteness.”Hovering over the captive, the chief of health sneers while Vogler leans back, gasping, and then covers his face with his hand. Amidst this humiliation, he’s asked if he would perform inducing a “state.” Vogler nods “yes,” with some vigor; and thus a counter-attack begins to form, not without many difficulty.

In Bergman films we’ve covered over the past year, we’ve seen quite a few riveting instances of “states” or moods, pushing the envelope of “truth.” The Magician, however, would seem to take the cake, inasmuch as its alliances and enmities are forever changing, requiring a true magician to discern where it’s going.The lexicon of dueling—the doctor pressing his expose by means of, “I’m at your disposal”—would seem to be the makings of a climax of such. But Vergerus, after heaping upon Vogler smears like “weak souls” (as to him and his following) and toying with the idea, “You think I hate you. You are wrong. I’m interested in one thing only: you’re physiology, Mr. Vogler… I’d like to perform an autopsy on you, weigh your brain, open up your heart, study your nervous system… take out your eyes”—in supposing having shown immunity to Vogler’s presence—comes into significant fire by the host’s wife, who asks him, “Why are you lying?… We can see you’re lying. Something frightened you terribly, but you don’t dare say what…” This rejoinder having somewhat punctured the gratifications of the town’s big names, the Chief of Police decrees that next morning the less than accomplished outlaw must show what he’s got to give.

Dinner is served; but only for those in formal attire. The troupe is directed to the kitchen where the, servants dine, an exile which involves the tuxedos laughing uproariously. (The hostess, however, declares, “Isn’t it amusing to humiliate defenseless people?” The doctor thinks to put it all fine, on the basis of her husband and him in the midst of a bet about the pros and cons of spirituality, “inexplicable forces.”“By all logic we’d be suddenly forced to reckon with a god.”) We see our voyagers stomping angrily in the shadows of the lower depths. Vogler and Manda stride through the kitchen harboring visions of revenge. Tubal, however, has mastered his initial anger and proceeds to charm the women who cook and clean. The rude exponent of cheap truth now gives us an undemonstrative clinic of wit, grace and primordial juggling! Two young girls working there, Sara and Sanna, are the first to bask in Tubal’s magnanimity. Sara, a year or so older than her friend, advises, regarding the strangers, “Anyway, they have no money. You only need fear the rich.”The calling card for the mover and shaker of the peripatetic show addresses the girls with, “My name is simply Tubal, simple as a folk tune.” The main cook arrives, and Tubal’s charm goes into overdrive, captivating her by his vitality, savoir faire and genuine pleasure to be with her and the girls..Soon Sara is wanting him to read her palm; but he is solicitous of her future possibility being more mature. “I wouldn’t want to stifle your curiosity.”With the senior chef, he provides free “love potion,” eliciting from her, “It makes me hot under the corset…” This draws from him, “I see a light”—abundantly unique amidst this most dark of Bergman’s early works.

While Tubal, having ignited amorous flames amidst all but one of the servants, there is the grandmother, having said nothing since the arrest, taking under her wing (more juggling, which the beautiful people, Vogler and Manda, eschew) the perpetually confused, Sanna, too young and simple for orgies. What she recommends, in the form of a bedtime story, covers much more than a good sleep. Though the girl ingenuously begins with, “You’re so old and ugly” [and a witch], this witch/ oracle can also rise to disinterestedness paralleling and transcending a normal narrative. (This incident also being a specialty of Bergman as a phenomenologist initiating logical problematics far beyond what Yale and Harvard could manage, shackled[like the venomous doctor here] to classical rational rubrics.) “Did you sell your soul,” the naïf asks.“Yes, perhaps I did,” the frail battling-ram smiles. (While this preamble was marching along, Sara , having swallowed some of the suggestiveness, admits, “I felt a funny feeling, especially in my tummy… Now what happens?”) Getting down to the juggling, the witch begins with, “You must wish for things that live, that are alive or will come to be… I’ll sing you a song”[very mindful about Vogler’s plight; a song about Vogler and Vergerus and Manda]. “It was war and the enemy stalked/ On tired legs the soldier walked./ The enemy [including the dying actor] charged from the woods that day/ Our man stood in the thick of the fray/ Knives flashed and blood was spilled/ Many a warrior there [including the hostess] was killed/ The soldier’s face with victory was bright[not, as we’ll see, it did him any good]/ Heavy poured the rain that night[wait for it]/ The soldier sat by himself and wrote/ To his dearest[that is dearest, as in “dearest”] a lengthy note/ Love brings solace/ Love brings rest/ Love brings strength/ To the weakest breast/ Love is one/ Can’t ne’er be twain…”

That remarkable interlude, by someone who is, in fact, the saga’s true magician, spells not only the incisiveness she lives by, but the cave-in of Vogler’s falling short of that magic of a paradoxical “twain” (comprising acrobatics and juggling). The last passage of her song is, “Love is simple. Yet hard to explain.[Vogler trapped in an explanation.]/ It’s going to thunder./ Far, far, far away…”Leaving Sanna to her simple sleep, granny—well aware that she must leave the dead end troupe (even more decisively than the dowager’s cut away from Desiree and her dead end friends, in, Smiles of a Summer Night);and also Tubal, the mixer,now headed to marry the religious cook and probably stay on at the Egerman concern—her hard-won fortune from plants, here and there, and spells, phony and valid, being her ticket to persevere, rounds off her stint in the servant quarter, with an invocation. “I call you down, I call you out,beyond the dead, beyond the living, the living dead.” Here the subject is the dead actor, seen by her to be of use in effecting some kind of escape for a dysfunctional show and, moreover, a dysfunctional marriage.

The denouement can be quickly described. But the relationship between Vogler and Manda is beyond ending.In the night, the power-couple, who couldn’t care less about mere servants,set up their apparatus in hopes of giving the shallow cynic a jolt of blue-chip mood. Mrs. Egerman drops by, Manda cuts out; and Vogler has on his hands the hostess’ delusion that he’s heaven-sent to resolve the pain of her young daughter’s recent death(plunging her, however slightly, beyond routine piety). She assures him her bedroom is out of range for her husband, whom she has also stuffed with sleeping pills. Dragging himself away from a vignette he doesn’t want to be in, he comes upon his and Manda’s designated bedroom, where a slightly tipsy Vergerus has had an eyeful of Manda being a dazzling blonde in her petticoat. From the shadowy hallway he doesn’t discover anything new; but, nevertheless, the world takes a painful step, bereft of the hostess’ shot in the dark. Perhaps the thrill evident in the mourner by Vogler’s shaky charisma(a possible version of the cliché, “A great man never seems to be so to his wife,”) has something to do about her tolerating the rat here.Vogler’s wildly inflected wife is in the course of getting off her chest, “Our entire act is a fraud, from start to finish… a miserable rotten lie, through and through… We’re the most pathetic rabble you could find…” (That would somewhat coincide, then, with the intruder’s, “You represent what I despise most of all. The ineffable.”The doctor extracts from her that, “a long time ago” she found some cogency in the-man-in-black’s priorities. But now there’s nothing.)

Just as he gets around to offering her help to his idea of full health,Vogler steps forward, smashes him about and the test becomes a test of the smart guy. Next morning, by virtue of the resource offered by the corpse, the nominal leader of the magic show gets down to business by way of pretending to have died during a rigorous part of the exhibition (involving the Egerman’s coachman, who had muttered, while Tubal was doing his magic, “A face like Vogler’s makes you furious. You want to bash it in…”)With Manda’s assistance, he terrifies Vergerus, whose perfunctory autopsy comes back to bite him. Using body parts and aural and optical features, he nearly murders the hated opponent, only dodging a homicide conviction by way of Manda’s intervention of common sense.

This film anticipates Bergman’s Winter Light (1963), where a charge of cosmic dynamite dribbles down to a rather tepid long shot. But, when all is said and done, The Magician is in a league of its own.It portrays, in the grandmother, a canny mystic, almost validly inured to hidden isolation.During that prophetic downpour, she is the first to depart the shell-shocked manor, entering the coach in order to indict the poor form of Vogler and Manda.Then she hits the road; but not until describing the fortune in her purse, the rewards of her delighting in the earth and a polyglot clientele. Something she doesn’t tell them, but something we should know, is what drives her on.She is far from alone, in her preferences, though she clearly has never, in her long life, encountered her ilk. Consider the regime of solitaire for the dowager in Smiles of a Summer Night. Her hovering over the cards while secured by pillows involves a taste for order, to be sure; but at the same time, there is a premium upon silence and stillness, irrespective of the fate of the game. Despite the optics of stasis, the addressing of the situation comprises ripples of initiative, a cosmos she has had much to do in its making. While her disappointing daughter stars in a questionable firmament of gluey childishness, the elderly hostess beholds beauties on the go, headed for extinction, felt as a gift. The grandmother/ witch lacks the oracle’s ease; but loves her hardships in the same frisson. (Jof and Marie, in, The Seventh Seal, are a mixed bag—he a poet, she a practical mom. But, during their dash for the sake of the new, the lonely new finds them on the same page [evincing how often we all, however slightly, prefer an outlaw life]).

On the other hand, the former lions of Lyon crash infamously.In the wake of Vogler’s unbecoming revenge, he becomes mired in asking the notables (including Mrs. Egerman) for spare change.They reach the coach, feel the scorn of their relative by-marriage; and find that their coachman has (after a brief notion of his and his sweetheart to resume, for what it’s worth, the magic of the open road) decided to stay with Sara in the kitchen. With no horse-power in sight, the magic stars come to us in a total doldrum. Whereas the dowager could reign sprightly on her bed, to great aplomb, Vogler and Manda resort to sterile fantasy. They see themselves summoned by the king to a command performance. The first stage of this coup, that isn’t, involves the notables, back at the Egerman mansion, now having become their fans.

Instead of standing pat with the loners—a conclusion somewhat out of whack with the fine juggling of Tubal and granny and sundry others—let’s listen some more to that barely-marriaged couple. (I find in Bergman’s scenes of chilling devastation, the demand to attend to recuperative strengths—on the basis of a comprehensive courage. As we listen to them, we’re listening to their tolerance for disappearing. Frid, the savvy servant, in Smiles of a Summer Night, coins the term, “punishment,” for the situation of full-scale , reflective love.) There is a gambit, in that dialogue with Vergerus, in which the divided woman goes some distance to put into play the state of affairs she finds herself in.In the midst of her expressing her hatred of her métier, she touches upon how her life had been elevated by “the nightmare.” “He has no secret powers?” the vigilante asks. “No, perhaps not,” she answers, in total confusion. Therefore, we get, rather predictably, “It’s meaningless…” “So I can put my mind at ease?” the scientist asks. “Yes, put your mind at ease… We can demonstrate our incompetence as often as you like…”(Wallowing in her own incompetence, being, it seems, in the vein of Vogler’s subsequent panhandler role.) The intruder reads her dissatisfaction, notwithstanding, “You seem to regret that fact and wish it were otherwise. But there are no miracles… God is silent, while men babble on.” She can’t resist saying, “If just once…” [the ecstatic could prevail]. The doctor, misdiagnosing the phenomenon to be a lift by a supernatural gift-giver, smugly prates, “That’s what they all say” [all he knows; but not all she knows].

After the doctor leaves—sneering at the idea of Vogler being a doctor (but without comprehending that the latter’s purchase is far from an exact science)—there is left in the air the hopeless impasse with Vergerus: “You think your husband wants to kill me? Do you want to kill me, Mr. Vogler? You hate me. I like you. Quite stimulating!” After slamming the door and smashing his head repeatedly upon it, he tears off the disguise and joins her in bed, far from the first time this impasse has flared.Their conflict has more to do with acrobatics lost than mere treachery, and, as such, their distemper resembles a death spiral. Whereas his face shows anguish, her’s is impassive.Lying behind where he lies. she kisses his head. Mustering a somewhat ironical smile, she purrs, “Remember in Lyon, where we earned lots of money?” [at what line of work, the question is], and bought a country house and intended to stop traveling… Then we sold the property and bought the carriage and horses… That’s where you started acting mute[another version to come, in Persona, for the sake of progressing into the labyrinth of truth, the ways of the cosmos]. Remember the Grand Duke—a less than grand duke appears in Smiles of a Summer Night–who was so taken by me that he promised to recommend us to his Majesty in Sweden? You thought I’d been unfaithful, and you gave the Duke a thrashing. We sat in prison for two months until he forgave us. Do you think he recommended us to the Swedish court, anyway?” His reply is silence.She continues, “No, I don’t think so, either.” All he can muster, with the field of acrobatics and juggling defeating him, is, “I hate them. I hate their faces, their bodies, their movements, their voices… But I get frightened, too, and then I lose my power…”With Vogler’s virtual surrender to the appalling, she thrusts her assets, “What if I left you?” “Go on, if you want. It makes no difference…”

We have been privy to other figures under similar pressures, under the auspices of phenomena the uncanniness of which has begun to chafe creatures like the doctor.This film seems to involve, however, a drama, as never before and never later, demanding full attention to the factor of horrific odds, slicing away, like barracudas, upon those who would venture to put into play“faces,” visages and bodies, moving into a sense of integrity confusing to nearly all of the population. Furtive figures, like the lady abandoning the demoralized couple, represent a shadowy agency for initiatives needful by nature itself. But why couldn’t there be buoyant partnerships instead of mere escapees?Impossible juggling tricks carry far, given range and spunk. Bergman’s cinema, transcending political tallies, draws upon viewers who have allowed themselves to be part of the show in a remarkable way.That allowance demands special courage, but courage encouraged by inspiring creatures and other magical things.

(Further complicating an already very subtle and rigorous reflective task, is the widespread nonsense that The Magician amounts to a mea culpa about Bergman’s being humbled in a fraudulent, pointless attempt to surpass common sense.Bergman may be famously a Byzantine husband, a constant health crisis and a vicious employer. But along the way he cultivated constructs far surpassing most Nobel Prize winners. He had nothing to be embarrassed about in his work.)

By way of reiterating the test of physicality embarrassing Vogler and Manda—holed up in the carriage and biting their fists, coming down to servant-Sara’s brief whim to get into a circus and thereby get the show on the road—we have the herbalist’s final goodbye: “I always said you were a foolish and reckless man. One should know one’s limitation” [and drop the idiocy of becoming another pope].

#ingmar bergman

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wizardts-shop · 5 years

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As East Dallas woman clung to tree, dogs mauled her husband; I’m sick of negligent pet owners

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Friendly and verdant Ferguson Park, east of White Rock Lake, would have been a great place to hang out Monday — if not for the reason I was there.

All the other folks at the park, tucked into one of Far East Dallas’ tidy 1950s subdivisions, visited for the fun of it. Young giggly girls free from school routines shared secrets in the shade of the playground apparatus. A pair of teens hit balls on the tennis courts. A retiree walked a dog so plump that it waddled like a duck.

But as I followed the wide new trail that winds around the playgrounds, ball fields and spray park, I had but one thought: Which tree did that poor injured woman claw her way up Saturday morning to escape a dog attack so vicious that it left her in need of blood transfusions?

With so many people shooting each other to death in this city in recent weeks, you might have missed the news about Saturday’s dog attack. Dallas police hardly have time to chase down irresponsible pet owners as they battle the spike in violent crime. And Dallas Animal Services is already fighting the good fight against the city’s loose dog problem.

But this story comes down to personal responsibility. We all owe it to each other to make sure people can walk through our neighborhood parks without fearing we’ll be tormented by aggressive dogs.

A man walked a dog past tennis courts at Ferguson Park on Monday near the site where two people were mauled by three Rottweiler-mix dogs on Saturday morning.

The woman and her husband, who live near the park but whose names city officials have not yet released, were taking their regular walk about 8:30 a.m. Saturday when three dogs from a house just across the street charged at them.

The scene unfolded in a split second amid the tall trees that shade the tennis courts. The dogs attacked the screaming woman, and, as her husband fought to pull them away, they turned on him. By the time the first officers arrived, the Rottweiler-mix animals had the man pinned down as his wife looked on helplessly.

The police officers, unable to free the man, shot at the dogs, killing one and injuring another. The third fled toward the owner’s home, but Dallas Animal Services field officers contained it along with the injured animal. Both were euthanized over the weekend.

At last report, the couple remained hospitalized with serious injuries as Dallas police continue to investigate what charges, if any, to bring against the dogs’ owner.

I started writing about Dallas’ loose dog problem, which most often bedevils the city’s working-class and impoverished neighborhoods, five years ago. Much has changed for the better for both people and their pets, thanks to City Hall’s demand for accountability, a new-and-improved Dallas Animal Services and a bigger spay-neuter effort.

But still, too many folks just don’t get it — or just don’t care: You can’t be lackadaisical about ensuring that your dogs stay behind your fence. An apology from a negligent owner is a pitiful response for the physical harm and emotional terror wrought on victims such as the couple at Ferguson Park.

Dallas Animal Services Director Ed Jamison is even more frustrated than I am by yet another mauling. He and his staff have worked day and night to solve this problem. He says the Saturday attack is particularly sad, “given the history we have here.”

Jamison is referring to the May 2016 death of South Dallas resident Antoinette Brown, all but eaten alive by a pack of loose — but, again, owned — dogs. This gruesome tragedy highlighted the need to get control of the large number of dogs roaming the streets, particularly in southern Dallas. The incident also led to Jamison’s eventual hiring.

Since Jamison arrived in Dallas about 18 months ago, his department has picked up a record number of dogs and issued more citations than ever before while posting live-release rates unimaginable just five years ago.

Some days, the Dallas Animal Services boss and his team feel that the city’s beefed-up enforcement efforts are paying off. For example, so far in 2019, bite reports are down a little over 8%.

A couple walks their dogs Monday night at Ferguson Park, where police were forced to shoot at three dogs that attacked a couple from the Far East Dallas neighborhood.

But none of that matters much to Jamison this week as he deals with the aftermath of Saturday’s attack by owned dogs. “The message is not getting through," he said. "It all starts with them containing their animal.”

Police have not yet publicly identified the owner of the dogs that ran amok in Ferguson Park, but many in the neighborhood know him. I won’t identify him either because he has not yet been charged. When I got a hold of him Wednesday, he declined to answer my questions and told me he’d have to call me later. In off-camera interviews with two local TV stations over the weekend, he sounded contrite about the incident and maintained that the animals escaped through a hole under his fence.

However, Jamison said the DAS field officer who chased down the third dog found the gate to the man’s backyard wide open before he finally was able to roust the sleeping owner.

This also is apparently not the first time the man has been involved in animal-bite incidents. The animal shelter’s record-keeping was haphazard before Dallas police commanders took it over in 2016, but Jamison’s team has been able to piece together this history: The same man whose dogs attacked the Ferguson Park couple surrendered another dog for euthanization after a 2012 bite incident and turned over two more after the same thing happened in 2014.

“How many times do you have to allow your dogs to get out of your yard and bite somebody before you do something to guarantee it won’t happen again?” Jamison said. “Irresponsible owners are to blame, but it’s the pets that end up paying the price.”

That goes double for the unsuspecting victims of loose dogs that can become dangerously aggressive.

Just a year ago in southwest Dallas, 56-year-old Ronnie Bell lost his arm and nearly died after he was attacked by dogs that were able to get out of their owner’s yard through an open gate. In April 2018, home surveillance video captured the terrifying southern Dallas scene of two loose dogs — seemingly coming out of nowhere — attacking a mail carrier and causing serious injuries.

The City Council responded to those and other attacks by voting last summer to reinforce the ordinance regarding dangerous dogs. The amendment to an existing ordinance establishes a criminal penalty for dog bites, clearly defines an “aggressive dog” and outlines requirements owners must follow.

This new tool ensures that Dallas Animal Services can hold owners accountable in cases that police don’t press charges.

Saturday’s horror occurred in a neighborhood that has worked hard to rid itself of loose dogs. Ellen Childress, a former crime-watch leader and one of the residents whose homes back up to Ferguson Park, is especially concerned about the safety of the children who play there.

Just days before the Saturday attack, two dogs that Childress described as pit bulls parked for a while on her front porch and later behaved so aggressively that a neighbor was scared to get out of her car. Once Dallas Animal Services was called, a field officer arrived quickly and captured the animals.

Nonetheless, Childress said the violent mauling “caught everyone by surprise. We haven’t had a loose dog problem in a long time, so people felt comfortable out walking and so many children are here for the splash park.”

Once again, those using Ferguson Park are on high alert. One walker Monday evening held his dog’s leash in one hand and a thick piece of wood in the other. In some Dallas neighborhoods, that’s the norm.

As Jamison said, the fix has to start with dog owners themselves. “Why does another tragedy have to happen instead of people just doing the right thing?”

A youngster rides his bike Monday along the trail in Ferguson Park where three dogs attacked a couple out for their Saturday morning walk.

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tabloidtoc · 4 years

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National Enquirer, November 2

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Jealous O.J. Simpson killed Nicole Brown over sizzling photos

Page 2: Melanie Griffith was caught in lockdown meltdown mode outside her Los Angeles home yelling at an unsuspecting laborer and giving him a good working over after he somehow crossed her bath and pushed her buttons but it doesn’t take much to get Mel to blow these days because she’s upset about two things which are getting old and not having a man in her life

Page 3: Lisa Marie Presley’s son Ben Keough’s tragic last moments were caught on tape as he argued with his girlfriend according to the coroner’s report on his suicide and security camera footage also captured the eerie sound of an apparent gunshot said the officer who viewed the tape -- Ben had hosted a party for his girlfriend Diana Pinto then about 4 a.m. the 27-year-old musician went to his bedroom; two hours later Diana went to check on him and had to jimmy the bedroom door lock with a bobby pin and she discovered his body and called 911 but Ben was pronounced dead at the scene -- since his death a devastated Lisa Marie has blamed herself for not intervening sooner; Ben had been to rehab several months before and Lisa Marie could see he was struggling with drugs and depression and she has kept a close eye on Ben’s gravesite with Graceland’s surveillance system

Page 4: Anne Heche’s shocking public pronouncement that she wants to reunite with former galpal Ellen DeGeneres was met with fury from Ellen wife Portia de Rossi -- Ellen and Anne were Hollywood’s highest-profile lesbian couple when they dated for three years before their bitter split in 2000 and they haven’t spoken since but Anne announced after her elimination on Dancing with the Stars that she would love to appear on The Ellen DeGeneres Show but Portia has made it clear she wants Anne nowhere near her wife and she believes Anne is using Ellen to drum up publicity for herself, lonely Ryan Seacrest is longing for a reunion with former flame Shayna Taylor but she wants no part of him -- workaholic Ryan announced the combustible couple’s third split in June after eight on-and-off years together -- Ryan’s obsession with being the next Dick Clark tests the patience of everybody around him and it’s made him a nightmare to be in a relationship with as Shayna found out firsthand -- Ryan seemed so cocky and sure that breaking up was the right thing to do but not having Shayna there to lean on has really gotten to him however Shayna is refusing to be played for a fool

Page 5: Kelly Clarkson made a massive mistake dumping husband Brandon Blackstock according to famed numerologist Glynis McCants

Page 6: Doting dad Kanye West is spoiling oldest daughter North rotten and it’s causing even more problems between him and wife Kim Kardashian because Kim feels North is getting too spoiled but Kanye won’t hear any of it because North is his firstborn and his princess and he treats her like it -- North is regularly served breakfast in bed on a silver tray and gets whatever she wants even if it’s waffles with strawberries and ice cream and she also has a team of beauticians and a stylist to cater to her every need as though she was a full-grown woman and her wardrobe is extensive and expensive and she never wears the same designer outfit twice plus North also loves to shop online for jewelry and Kanye gives her his credit card and she can spend $100,000 in a single sitting and Kanye just thinks it’s cute

Page 7: Daring Jill Duggar and husband Derick Dillard are rebelling against her conservative parents and causing a full-scale family war as the couple has publicly defied Baptist patriarch Jim Bob Duggar several times since their 2014 marriage and now they’ve been banned from the 19 Kids and Counting reality clan; Jim Bob’s even demanded that their neighbors have nothing to do with them -- Jill and Derick drew Jim Bob’s fury after criticizing her parents’ conservative views and shutting down their own family factory after having two sons and said they’re stopping there for now unlike Jill’s folks who had 19 kids, dog lover Jennifer Aniston adores her new rescue puppy but potty-training the pooch has been the pits so desperate Jen had to sign up her new pup Lord Chesterfield for private lessons with a dog trainer -- she has two other dogs Clyde and Sophie but they’re well-behaved and know to do their business outdoors and Jen loves them all but she forgot how much work it is to train a puppy

Page 8: Prince Harry’s wife Meghan Markle revealed her private battle with depression as her struggles with first-time motherhood and fitting in with the rigid royal family pushed her over the edge but Queen Elizabeth thinks her conniving confession is simply a ploy to sully the monarchy -- Meghan described the emotional pain caused by criticism as a death by a thousand cuts and said if people are saying things about you that aren’t true what that does to your mental and emotional health is so damaging -- Queen Elizabeth believes Meghan’s confession is a calculated attack on the monarchy and Meghan is acting like the royals waged a war against her but Meghan and Harry’s actions since they quit have infuriated Her Majesty because Meghan keeps orchestrating situations where she takes center stage appearing to support and put the spotlight on those in need but she turns them all into opportunities to talk about herself and how hard her struggle is

Page 9: Rattled Tyra Banks’ rocky start on Dancing with the Stars has her looking for a way to waltz off the show and she is already trying to back out of hosting because she hates the criticism she’s been getting from virtually everyone plus she’s unpopular with the contestants and is bickering behind the scenes with producers who now regret replacing longtime hosts Tom Bergeron and Erin Andrews -- ratings have also plummeted since Tyra took the helm with the show losing more than a million viewers in early October from the same week in 2019

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Gwen Stefani during a photo session in Calabasas, Tiffany Haddish used a leaf blower during a skit on The Ellen DeGeneres Show, Justin Bieber on a scooter in Beverly Hills, Zosia Mamet donned a unicorn horn as she wrapped the final scenes of The Flight Attendant, Robert Pattinson and Colin Farrell on the Liverpool set of The Batman

Page 11: John Oliver’s jokey jabs have earned him a crappy honor from the town of Danbury in Connecticut -- after he ragged on tony Danbury on his show Mayor Mark Boughton vowed to rename its sewage plant after him and now it’s official that the Danbury Sewage Plant is now the John Oliver Memorial Sewage Plant and as promised John is donating $55,000 to local charities which has spurred fundraising efforts for local food banks and Boughton is offering tours of the plant for $500 donations to local food pantries, ailing Phil Collins was rocked by ex-wife Orianne’s betrayal and pals fear he won’t make it to Christmas -- the singer was shocked when it emerged that Orianne who he’d divorced in 2006 and reunited with a decade later married another man in Las Vegas and the stunning news prompted him to serve an eviction notice to get her out of his Miami home and his life for good but Orianne refused to leave

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Nev Schulman on roller blades in an L.A. parking lot (picture), Eboni K. Williams only landed the gig on The Real Housewives of New York City because she co-hosts State of the Culture on Sean Diddy Combs’ Revolt TV cable network and Bravo is desperate to get famous New Yorkers on the show so cameras will be following Eboni around at work hoping to catch Diddy, with Keeping Up with the Kardashians ending E! is looking for the next big reality family and it may be Sylvester Stallone’s daughters Sophia and Sistine and Scarlet Stallone who are all models and not one has a sex tape, with Bravo boss Andy Cohen and axed Housewife NeNe Leakes at war their mutual friends are being forced to pick sides -- Andy gave NeNe access to his famous non-reality show friends and now he’s regretting it -- Kelly Ripa and Anderson Cooper are all Team Andy

Page 13: Kris Kristofferson is battling Alzheimer’s disease and has been forced to retire from singing and acting but the songwriter is in the best place he can be at his home in Maui with family and friends who are surrounding him with love and support, frantic Kate Gosselin is feeling a financial pinch and ready to take a bath on her house by putting her $1.2 million mansion on the market for a measly $815,000 because she’s been struggling with money because she hasn’t worked in a while and living off the money she made in past

Page 14: Crime

Page 15: Marie Osmond was blue over being booted from The Talk but husband Steve Craig gave her something to get over it which was a stunning pair of opal and tanzanite earrings worth nearly $3000, Megan Thee Stallion cheated death when she was shot twice in July and is now using the terrifying incident as a platform to empower Black women and she wrote an op-ed saying the attack proved she and other Black women are not protected as human beings -- fellow rapper Tory Lanez was charged with the shooting that left two flesh-shredding wounds in Megan’s feet and allegedly took place after they argued in an SUV in Hollywood Hills

Page 16: Cover Story -- Rampaging O.J. Simpson was driven into a kill-crazy rage after seeing photos of his ex-wife Nicole Brown Simpson dating hunky young boytoys and flaunting her body in modeling shots -- 25 years after the disgraced football star’s 1995 acquittal intimate images from Nicole’s secret photo album including a picture of the blond beauty posing topless with lover Brett Shaves is believed to have given the jealous ex-jock a motive for murder

Page 18: American Life -- I found a $1M diamond in the rough

Page 19: John Travolta paid tribute to wife Kelly Preston on what would have been her 58th birthday three months after tragic death following a secret two-year battle with breast cancer -- John addressed his late love in a touching Instagram post featuring an image from their 1991 wedding day alongside a picture of his own parents as newlyweds, sci-fi legend George Takei has fired yet another shot at former Star Trek castmate William Shatner as the aging actors’ war of words continues to rage on well into their 80s -- George who played Sulu claimed Shatner was jealous of the amount of fan mail received by their late co-star Leonard Nimoy who played Spock but Captain Kirk shot off a testy response and claimed George was making things up and the only person with jealousy is George -- when told Shatner’s comments George calmly remarked that you can tell by those words that he is upset to put it mildly

Page 20: In a rerun of their long-running rivalry Madonna and Mariah Carey are prepping dueling biopics -- their cold war dates back to the ‘90s but Mariah ramped up their feud when she revealed the very exciting prospect of her biopic but that followed Madonna’s announcement that she was collaborating on her own script -- they’re each obsessed with getting their film out first and getting the right It Girl to play her so the other one doesn’t grab her first

Page 21: Elton John and ex-wife Renate Blauel agreed to zip their lips about their four-year marriage and privately settled her $3.8 million lawsuit over claims he blabbed about their relationship in his memoir Me and the movie Rocketman, Stevie Nicks admitted her insomnia has gotten so bad that she needs therapy or needs someone to hit her on the head with a hammer -- she’s long been nocturnal and it used to be she could sleep from 5 a.m. to 1 p.m. but now says she doesn’t nod off until 8 a.m., singer Amy Winehouse died in 2011 but her dad claimed he still can’t get her out of his house -- former taxi driver Mitch Winehouse who is working on a movie and stage show about the late singer insisted he’s regularly visited by his daughter’s ghost who comes and sits at the end of his bed -- Mitch also said Amy helps around the house in his dreams

Page 26: Niecy Nash’s new bride Jessica Betts has a nightmarish criminal past according to police reports -- Jessica was arrested twice in Chicago once for domestic battery and then for selling a gun to a minor

Page 28: Stars Who Refuse to Zip It -- cringeworthy confessions and nasty habits and more -- Jennifer Love Hewitt, Megan Fox, Al Roker, Olivia Wilde

Page 29: Kristen Stewart on Robert Pattinson, John Mayer, Lady Gaga, Suzanne Somers

Page 32: Demi Lovato’s relentless ex Max Ehrich refuses to let her go and her friends are worried he’s turning into a stalker -- since their breakup he’s been particularly creepy, Tatum O’Neal’s confession that she was ready to jump off the balcony of a Los Angeles home was actually a desperate cry for help -- Tatum was reportedly put on a psychiatric hold at a local hospital after the alleged incident and the event signaled she was in unbearable emotional and physical pain and she feels lost and rejected because she was the youngest Oscar winner ever and now she has trouble finding a job and lost all confidence in herself

Page 34: India Oxenberg has confessed she was afraid of former NXIVM cult master Allison Mack of TV’s Smallville -- India found herself Allison’s slave and realized she was being groomed as a sexual partner for NXIVM leader Keith Raniere and she was branded with Raniere’s initials in her pelvic regions, a disturbing TV interview in England has sparked new fears for the well-being on boxer Mike Tyson -- Mike looked like the train wreck he was when he was plowing through drugs and was sent to prison in the early ‘90s; he looked barely conscious as he slurred his speech and offered incoherent responses -- Tyson blamed his interview on lack of sleep and insisted his contact with drugs is now limited to growing and smoking pot on his California ranch

Page 36: Health Watch

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Zendaya

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Debbie Matenopoulos on Home and Family

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grimmwritings · 5 years

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Post-Mortem Market 2

April 11, 2018

The first thing I noticed was that he didn’t walk in slowly. He stumbled in, grabbing onto every object he could in order to stay upright, all the while covering the shelves in blood. The man left orange smears on whatever he touched. His eyes were frantic, but nothing I hadn’t seen before. He was a middle aged white man, dressed in a fairly nice suit and shoes brightly shined.

“Welcome,” I said, mostly to stop him from destroying anything else I would have to clean up.

He turned to me, as if suddenly aware of my presence. He scrambled over, leaving bloody handprints on my counter. It was then that I noticed that he wasn’t the one bleeding— injuries weren’t carried over here. And the blood was mostly coming from his hands and forearms, nothing on his chest or head.

“You. Who are you? Where am I?” he asked desperately, but he wasn’t frightened like the others. He demanded answers; he didn’t ask for them. I didn’t appreciate the attitude.

“This is the Post-Mortem Market. You can take one item from this place with you into the afterlife. Pick wisely. Many don’t.” I smirked, hoping to knock this man down a peg.

“I’m dead?” he asked.

“Yes. Now get on with your shopping. You annoy me,” I snarled.

He pushed off the counter, eyeing me until he no longer could. Boring everyday people were bad to deal with, but anyone who wasn’t confused when they found out they were dead was never a good sign. Anyone who rolled with the punches that quickly was dangerous; either they had been trained that way or the life they led meant they had to avoid those who had been. This generally meant either they were in the military or a criminal. This man seemed like the criminal type. I picked up the newspaper detailing the important events of his life.

Mark Seabren. He was born June 13, 1970. His mother ridiculed him mercilessly. He was attacked at home, but relied on his mother for everything. He was desperate to please her, to make a good living and pay her back for all she had done. When his mother died, he couldn’t cope. He kidnapped girl after girl, bringing them back to his childhood home. He forced them to replace his mother, but one by one they all failed, never getting it perfect compared to his delusion. He disposed of them at the body farm where he worked. He thought no one would notice a few extra. When the last victim was so close to what he wanted, the police showed up. Mark held a knife to her throat and took her as a hostage. A new officer with an itchy trigger finger shot him. The last line read: “Serial killer shot, latest victim in critical condition.” My forehead creased after the last line.

“Hey, you. Whoever you are, you said I could take anything in here with me into the afterlife, right?” Mark smiled at me, but looked devilishly pleased. Even his breath was far too warm to make anyone comfortable. His skin was probably damp and cold as well.

“Yes, anything in here except what belongs to the store. That includes me, the shelves, and any other store property. Those are the rules,” I said automatically, reciting what I had been for eternity.

“Perfect.”

I didn’t trust his smile. It wasn’t kind and fond like someone remembering a childhood toy. It wasn’t small and mixed with sadness, like that of a customer who saw his dead mother’s necklace. This was the smile of a man who knew exactly which item he was walking out of here with, and knew his motives were sinister. My eyebrows drew together as I slowly put the horrifying pieces together. I was reminded of a name from not too long ago. Bailey Tresler, and her sister April.

My feet took me out from behind the counter, against my training. I knew I should have stayed where I was. Human affairs were exactly that, human. It wasn’t my job or my place to interfere. I always thought boredom would be the worst thing I ever had to deal with. Even serial killers picked boring items: knives, photos, tokens from their crimes. I walked to the iced section, but I knew what I would see long before I ever reached her. A woman lying on ice, eyes calmly closed, but heart still beating slowly. There was an item description below her. Victoria Hearthmen, age thirty-two. Mark’s last victim.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” I nodded and Mark slid up behind me.

“You’ve seen this before?” he asked, probably not really caring for the answer.

“You two were in the same accident. You’re dead and her life hangs in the balance. It’s equally likely that she lives or dies, depending on your decision,” I said. The words were forced out of my mouth like some horrifying script. I knew it was what I was supposed to say; those were the rules.

“What decision would that be?” he asked.

“You can choose her as your item and take her with you into the afterlife. She will die, but she will follow you and you will never be without one another.” The explanation pushed its way out of my mouth, no matter how badly I wanted to keep it from him.

“That’s what I thought.” Mark smiled. “Perfect. That’s exactly what I want. I want to take her with me.”

I’d only ever had about five cases of a person being able to take someone with them. Modern medicine made it possible, and mostly it was car crash victims together. Normal people, a mother saw her child, a husband saw his wife, a man saw his dog, a girl saw her sister, and now a serial killer had seen his victim. I only had so much time to do anything about this, and in a lot of ways, it could go wrong. I had a boss, people watching me to make sure I did my job correctly. Surely this wasn’t what the rules had intended. The higher-ups did this to keep families together: humans cared enough about one another to hang onto each other even in the afterlife. This was never supposed to happen. Victoria had suffered enough in life, and now she would suffer in death for eternity.

“I wouldn’t advise that.” I shrugged, desperately trying to hide any insubordination from those higher than me.

“Why?” he snapped quickly, like a child who was having his toy taken away.

“It is generally defined as an immoral action. Those who perform immoral actions tend to face unfortunate consequences. This may be a chance to redeem yourself, even to a small extent.” I could really only say things that were the truth; I would be removed quickly if they suspected anything.

“I’m already going to Hell, right? Why not take her with me? She was nearly perfect.” His smile was sickening, even to me. Victoria must have been terrified.

“I cannot say for certain your end destination,” I replied.

“Shove off, man. You told me the rules. You’re trying to stall. Why do you care? Are you even human?” He crept close enough that I could smell the cologne he used (it probably had a name like Swagger) and I desperately tried to force my face into the infallible expression I normally wore.

“We’ve been here since death itself,” I answered, regulating the tone of my voice with a lot of effort.

If I could only stall long enough, Victoria would either die herself or be saved by the doctors. If she no longer had an equal chance of dying or surviving, she would leave here. There would be no more option. Even if she had to die, it was better than being bound forever to the man who kept her in fear.

“Then you couldn’t possibly understand.” He shrugged and picked up Victoria. “Quit trying to stop me. I’m leaving here with her, no matter what you do. She is my most treasured item.” He rubbed the smooth skin of her cheek with a smile.

The most terrifying part was probably that he meant it. He would do anything to leave this store with her. No matter what I said, he was taking her. He genuinely believed that he cared for her. In his mind, she was his to take. Everything I could try to save her was against the rules. So I guess I would have to break them.

“Why take her as a replacement when I can show you the real thing? Your mother, Clarisse, I can take you to her.” I began my bargain, and now the clock was ticking. I only had so much time before management figured out I was breaking their codes.

“How?” he questioned, feet skidding to a stop.

“We watch over the afterlife. I know exactly where she resides. You have to be part of the staff to travel between here and the residential areas, but I can take you with me.” I tried to take up as much as time as possible, giving the doctors whatever time I could before management showed up.

“Why would you do that?” he asked, now wary of me.

“I am simply bored. I’ve seen people choose the same objects over and over. People choosing people isn’t uncommon, you’re not special. But I’ve always wondered why they would, when their loved ones are so close now.” I tried to project the same boredom I’d felt for millenia. I looked towards Victoria, noticing less color in her cheeks than before. “But if you want an actress portrayal, that’s up to you.”

“You can take me to see my mother? You aren’t lying?” he asked hopefully, a small smile tweaking at the sides of his lips.

“Why would I? Like you said, I’m not human. Why would I care about which object you choose? I simply want something to interrupt this tiresome routine.” I watched Victoria’s breathing fall slower and slower, creeping to a halt.

“Can I still take her with me?” He pointed to Victoria, speech reverting to that like a child’s. There was a disturbing amount of innocence in his question.

“Do you really think your mother will want you to bring her replacement? She’d be offended at how poor a job you’ve done.” I desperately tried to replicate the speech patterns most abusive parents use, to mimic his mother. I only needed a few more seconds.

“Do you really think she would mind?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t you, if someone had the audacity to replace you?” I sneered. My eyes glanced down at Victoria with a feeling of relief.

“I guess.” He frowned, but looked at Victoria, only to find a plain white mannequin in her place. “What happened?!” he shouted in rage, throwing the mannequin onto the tile floor.

“Victoria died. I imagine right about now she’s walking into her own market,” I replied with a smile.

“You tricked me!” he screamed, grabbing me and slamming me to the ground.

“I did. But you still must pick an item and walk out of here. It’s how the rules work.” I felt no pain, an advantage of being one of the managers here.

“My mother. You can’t take me to her,” he realized.

“No. But you’ll never see her if you stay here. The sooner you walk out of here, the sooner you’ll be reunited.” I couldn’t understand why he would want to be with the woman who hurt him, I just knew he did.

He reluctantly let me go, only to walk over to a shelf and pick up one of the first items he saw. A golden necklace with the initials RGC. I recognized the name of one of his victims, Rebecca Grace Coulson. I’m sure he stole it from her as a trophy of a kill. He took the necklace in a clenched first and stormed out as violently as he had stormed in. I knew my time was up.

“Cashier #3047, you are officially released from duty at the Post-Mortem Market.”

#originalwriting

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