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#forensic journalist
forensicfield · 2 years
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How To Become an Investigative Journalist?
#Investigativejournalism can be a wonderful career choice for you if you're seeking a hard, competitive, and fulfilling job. By locating and covering significant issues and occurrences, investigative journalists provide a tremendous service to society..
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stealingyourbones · 1 year
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Short DPXDC Prompts #712
Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Wally West, and Iris West ranting to each other about the Fenton’s lack of journalistic integrity.
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werewolfenthusiast · 4 months
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every time i remember annie joined the fbi instead of becoming an investigative journalist it actually ruins my day
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twd-obsessed-bitch · 1 year
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Okay so watching criminal minds: evolution, I think I've found the thing that bugs me the most.
They named the unsub.
We had 15 seasons of them saying "we don't name these guys, it immortalizes them, gives them power, etc. Etc." And then they reboot the series and the first thing they do (besides make everybody sad for some reason) is they name the fucking guy they're chasing
Like what the fuck?
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mcntsee · 1 month
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The real barbie is Y/n.
Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.
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thethief1996 · 6 months
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I can't stop thinking about the news out of Palestine. Israel is sieging al Shifa hospital. Videos of people's limbs being severed off are haunting (graphic video tw). The hospital has ran out of fuel and 39 babies in incubators are fending for their lives by themselves, because Israel has stationed snipers around the hospital and is shooting all medical crew that walks into their sight.
First, the narrative was Israel would never bomb hospitals. Now, the hospitals are Hamas bases. Then, we respect journalists. Now, we have a fucking kill list of journalists because they are Hamas collaborators. First, we are not letting fuel in until the hostages are released. Now, we are not accepting the hostages back because that would stop our ground invasion and let Hamas win. And I could go on about every single lie they're making up. If you look up "Hamas rape" on google, the first link leads to Times of Israel saying Israel has found no forensic evidence of sexual violence, and only one eyewitness testimony out of 3.5k people attending the rave. If you Google "Hamas beheaded babies" the top links say they have no evidence for the claim besides word of mouth from extremist soldiers. Israeli extremists think about the ugliest goriest scene they can make out in their sick heads, tell that to a international journalist and they run away with it like it's gospel.
And children are being killed in the name of these lies. Thousands are being displaced in images that remind me of the pictures of Tantura 75 years ago, with their hands up so the tanks don't shoot them. Amputees are leaving the hospitals in wheelchairs hours after their surgeries because they are being shot at. Elders who survived the Nakba on 48 are having to walk towards Southern Gaza on foot (imagine walking from one end of your city to the other on foot), displaced again. People are cheering for the haunting images of white phosphorus bombs being dropped over Gaza. Gazan workers who were arrested in the West Bank are being thrust back into the bombings wearing numbered labels.
This is not normal. We are seeing the early stages of the settler colonial genocide of an indigenous population. Native leaders who have visited Gaza say its refugee camps look eerily like reservations. We can stop this. For the first time we are able to see wide scale accounts from the hands of the people suffering the genocide, and Israel is so scared of it they have cut all communications in Gaza.
This is our litmus test. I think we have never seen more clearly, with Palestine, Armenia, Congo and Sudan how colonialism has made our world a rotten place to live in.
The South African apartheid collapsed due to boycotts. We have to do everything in our power to stop Israel's hegemony. Even talking to a group of friends about Palestine changes the status quo. There's no world where we can live peacefully if Israel accomplishes their goals.
Keep yourself updated and share Palestinian voices. Muna El-Kurd said every tweet is like a treasure to them, because their voices are repressed on social media and even on this very app. Make it your action item to share something about the Palestinian plight everyday. Here are some resources:
Al Jazeera, Anadolu Agency, Mondoweiss
Boycott Divest Sanction Movement
Palestinian Youth Movement is organizing protests and direct action against weapons factories across the US
Mohammed El-Kurd (twitter / instagram)
Muhammad Shehada (twitter)
Motaz Azaiza (instagram) - reporting directly from Gaza.
Hind Khudary - reporting directly from Gaza. Her husband and daughter moved South to run from the tanks but she stayed behind to record the genocide. The least we can do is not let her calls fall on deaf ears.
You can participate in boycotts wherever you are in the world, through BDS guidelines. Don't be overwhelmed by gigantic boycott lists. BDS explicitly targets only a few brands which have bigger impact. You can stop consuming from as many brands as you want, though, and by all means feel free to give a 1 star review to McDonalds, Papa John, Pizza Hut, Burger King and Starbucks. Right now, they are focusing on boycotting the following:
Carrefour, HP, Puma, Sabra, Sodastream, Ahava cosmetics, Israeli fruits and vegetables
Push for a cultural boycott - pressure your favorite artist to speak out on Palestine and cancel any upcoming performances on occupied territory (Lorde cancelled her gig in Israel because of this. It works.)
If you can, participate in direct action or donate.
Palestine Action works to shut down Israeli weapons factories in the UK and USA, and have successfully shut down one of their firms in London.Some of the activists are going on trial and are calling for mobilizing on court.
Palestinian Youth Movement is organizing direct actions to stop the shipping of wars to Israel. Follow them.
Educate yourself. Read into Palestinian history and the occupation. You can't common sense people out of decades of propaganda. If your arguments crumble when a zionist brings up the "disengagement of Gaza", you have to learn more.
Read Decolonize Palestine. They have 15 minute reads that concisely explain the occupation (and its colonial roots) and debunk popular myths, including pinkwashing.
Read on Palestine. Here's an amazing masterpost.
Verso Book Club is giving out free books on Palestine (I personally downloaded Ten Myths about Israel by Ilan Pappe. If you still believe in the two states solution, this book by an Israeli professor debunks it).
Call your representatives. The Labour Party in the UK had an emergency meeting after several councilors threatened to resign if they didn't condemn Israeli war crimes. Calling to show your complaints works, even more if you live in a country that funds genocide.
FOR PEOPLE IN THE USA: USCPR has developed this toolkit for calls, here's a document that autosends emails to your representatives and here's a toolkit by Ceasefire in Gaza NOW!
FOR PEOPLE IN EUROPE: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace targeting the European Parliament and one specific for almost all countries in Europe, including Germany, Ireland, Poland, Denmark, Sweden, Netherlands, Greece, Norway, Italy, Portugal, Spain, Finland, Austria, Belgium Romania and Ukraine
FOR PEOPLE IN THE UK: Friends of Al-Aqsa UK and Palestine Solidarity UK have made toolkits for calls and emails
FOR PEOPLE IN AUSTRALIA: Here's a toolkit by Stand With Palestine
FOR PEOPLE IN CANADA: Here's a toolkit by Indepent Jewish Voices for Canada
Join a protest. Here's a constantly updating list of protests:
Global calendar
Another global calendar (go to the instragram of the organizers to confirm your protest)
USA calendar
Australia calendar
Feel free to add more.
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lilithgreye · 5 months
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Your Future Spouses Job
Due to derivative astrology the 4th house rules over our future spouses career. Here are some possible careers your spouse could have with each 4th house placement. Remember that there can be more interpretations than this, but these are only some examples
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Aries 4h: Firefighter, athlete, rapper, race car driver, fighter (example: ufc fighter), cop, military soldier/veteran, er dispatcher, personal trainer/bodybuilder, entrepreneur
Taurus 4h: Chef, accountant, banker, singer, podcaster, sales worker, radio host, fashion designer/stylist, model, botanist, financial manager, financial clerk, food service manager, marketing manager, cashier
Gemini 4h: Writer/journalist/poet, social media influencer, teacher, comedian, podcaster, politician, radio host, public speaker, librarian, videographer, counselor, game designer, tutor, neurologist, driver (examples: door dasher, bus driver, uber driver, etc)
Cancer 4h: Baker, real estate agent, nurse, nanny (example: travel nanny), home/interior designer/architect, marine biologist, carpenter, construction worker, counselor, professional cuddler
Leo 4h: Actor, entertainer, athlete, talent agent/director, event/party planner, theatre teacher, music teacher, hair stylist/barber, concert promoter, any career involving fame
Virgo 4h: Doctor/nurse, nutritionist, vet, comedian, news reporter, interviewer, personal trainer, therapist, lawyer, farmer, librarian, botanist, housekeeper/maid, counselor, tutor, dentist, dermatologist, neurologist, zoologist, social media influencer
Libra 4h: Singer, dancer, model, artist, fashion designer/stylist, wedding planner, makeup artist, lawyer, dermatologist, barber/hair stylist
Scorpio 4h: Detective, cop, psychologist, funeral director, coroner, banker, sex worker (example: stripper), tax preparer, bikini waxer, forensic pathologist, criminal psychologist
Sagittarius 4h: Teacher, comedian, pilot, flight attendant, astrologer, news reporter, casting agent, religious career (example: pastor), lawyer, librarian, philosopher, photographer, interpreter/translator, tutor, tour guide
Capricorn 4h: Business owner/ceo, film director, publicist, archeologist, politician, entrepreneur, historian, financial manager, carpenter, construction worker, chiropractor, dentist, sales agent
Aquarius 4h: Engineer, scientist, rapper, social media influencer, film producer, inventor, dj, humanitarian, politician, graphic designer, entrepreneur, videographer, game designer, electrician
Pisces 4h: Singer/musician, actor, astrologer, psychic, hypnotist, astronomer, artist, model, lifeguard, marine biologist, creative writer, lyricist, any career involving fame
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astrobiscuits · 3 months
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Astrocartography notes
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🌍 Do you want to study abroad? Work abroad? Your MC lines show what domain to pursue:
Sun MC: photographer, actor; check the planet ruling your Sun's zodiac sign for more details
Moon MC: nurse, preschool/elementary teacher, childcare worker/nanny, doula, housekeeper
Mercury MC: librarian, language teacher, speech language pathologist, translator, working in academia, journalist, PR agent, receptionist, secretary, architect, economist, comedian
Venus MC: modelling, artist, fashion designer, hairstylist, makeup artist, art director, interior designer, garden designer, florist, wedding planner
Mars MC: surgeon, firefighter, working at the police, sportsman (the type of sport depends on the zodiac sign Mars is in your birth chart, for ex. Mars in Pisces = football, swimming; Mars in Libra = gymnastics); fitness instructor
Jupiter MC: international driver (driving to your Jupiter MC line brings bonusess💰💰), flight attendant, hotel manager, tour guide, philosopher
Saturn MC: general practitioner, dentist, law, working in the Parliament, working in public institutions, business (CEO), historian, construction worker
Uranus MC: STEM (engineering, ecology sciences, biology), electrician, weather presenter, astronomer/astrophysicist, astrologer, sociology, social worker, advocate for human rights/activist
Neptune MC: choreographer, scenographer, film/theater director, actor, ballet dancer, music composer, rehabilitation worker, bartender, yoga instructor, meditation teacher, reiki practitioner
Pluto MC: adult actor, therapist, psychiatrist, any job regarding forensics (detective, toxicologist, forensic accountant etc.), embalmer, funeral director, loan officer, research analyst
🌍 If you have no astrocartography lines passing through the country you lived for most of your life, you probably don't feel at home in that country and have always wanted to relocate to another country
🌍 When you have atleast 2 lines "conjuncting" each other through a certain country, the planet that is more dominant in your birth chart will have a higher effect in astrocartography
🌍 Mercury IC line can show where one of your siblings or cousins relocate at some point during their life
🌍 If you're a girl and you have daddy issues (hey, we don't judge here!!), travelling to Saturn DSC line will likely bring you lots of opportunities of meeting your perfect partner, but also harsh lessons regarding control in a relationship (this is a good line for you to heal your daddy issues)
🌍 If you want to meet your future spouse and you (personally) find international guys attractive, travelling to Jupiter DSC line is a very good idea. Your future spouse might also be a foreigner in that country, just like you :)
🌍 Sun ASC line shows you where you can find your life's purpose. Also your depression:📉📉 0%, while your happiness:📈📈 100% (unless your Sun is in your 8th or 12th house, then the mental health effect is the complete opposite)
🌍 You could give birth on your Moon IC line😳 or your mom could have given birth to you on that line
🌍 Venus ASC line shows you where you could take lots of pictures (of yourself, of the sightseeings). Also, where you could get diabetes where you will want to try every type of sweets you find there
🌍 You will either get very drunk, consume drugs or smoke some weird shit on your Neptune ASC line (pls take care of your health)
🌍 You could randomly meet an ex or someone who resembles your ex while travelling to your Chiron DSC line
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7amaspayrollmanager · 3 months
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I read that entire intercept article and that is something for the history books bc I went in there possibly expecting to come away with at least one source corroborating a rape or rapes but nothing more. Instead, there was no secondary sources no forensic evidence that was used to corroborate any of the "witness testimony" instead the use of the word "screams" in the title of the infamous NYT article itself is from a guy who claims to have seen multiple rapes but backtracked to one rape and then backtracked again and said he only heard but was looking away.
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I think palestinian journalists like Ali Abunimah and palestinians, in general, were treated with such vehemence for picking apart these articles. I remember when they first came out, there were literal quotes premising the onslaught of "first hand accounts" that "no forensic evidence has been provided" when journalists asked the Israeli first responders for the evidence. And for pointing that out, we were called unfathomably cruel and naive for believing rape didn't occur when that was not our main critique. The "story" was the alleged claim that Hamas militants used rape as a weapon of war which there is no evidence for. Their objective was to retrieve hostages to go into army bases and retrieve weapons. There is no evidence of an "order" to use rape as a tool of terror. We had an israeli woman say in an interview that when hamas militants entered her home they said something like "we are Muslims we won't hurt you" in English and then asked for a banana and left. These are rehearsed statements that offer more evidence that there was no such instruction to "allow" rape to be use in fact, the opposite.
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And it truly is amazing to me that Palestinian sources are treated with such skepticism. And palestinian journalists are not "real journalists" because of their inexperience as if being on the ground experiencing the genocide in real time is not evidence enough, but a real journalist treated a story that requires a serious and impartial investigation like she was manifesting the evidence to come to her and demanding therapists whose relationships with patients require confidentiality to give her "proof" that rapes occurred in mass amounts
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youneedsomeprompts · 1 year
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~ UNCONVENTIONAL AUs ~ PROMPT LIST
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requested by: anonymous
Feel free to use and reblog!
artist x muse AU
mutual third-wheeling AU
multiple identities AU
neighbours AU
antique shop AU
metro/bus AU
forensics AU
fairytale AU
abroad/vacation AU
sleepwalking AU
med school AU
fellow parents at the kindergarten AU
cashier AU
journalist AU
underwater/mermaid AU
lab AU
rich heritage AU
bakery AU
dream AU
countryside AU
centaur AU
domestic AU
edwardian era AU
ghost AU
makeup artist AU
hostage AU
pet/petshop AU
library AU
small town AU
masquerade ball AU
spilling drink AU
pen pal AU
evening school AU
near death experience AU
mailman AU
temporary roommates AU
matchmaking AU
gym AU
tall x smol AU
furniture store AU
horse race AU
karaoke AU
workaholic x janitor AU
long train ride AU
roommate's best friend AU
blackout AU
fake marriage for undercover mission AU
witness protection AU
drunk AU
secret dating at work AU
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incognit0slut · 1 year
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Right Kind of Wrong (3)
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She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation. She also never thought she’d encounter her one-night-stand again—the awkward stranger who isn’t exactly that good in bed… Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong. But the more he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, the more he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.
Part Summary: she gets involved in a murder case she least expected as a familiar face greets her. wc: 3,7k
Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, blood, graphic details of murder
A/n: this part is kind of slow but it’s very important for the plot
Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14
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Y/N WAS GOING TO QUIT. She was sure of it. Her mind was constantly trying to plan how she would execute the idea without making a scene because she considered slamming her resignation letter on Jamison's desk, dramatically claiming him as a disgusting, chauvinistic bitter old man who only got laid because his wife took pity on him.
She was walking back to her desk after bearing another one of his, "I don't think you can do the job, L/n. Let the men go out to the field and cover the story."
She was also a journalist, for god's sake. And a good one at that. What made that old man think she wasn't as capable as any other male peers around her? Was she too much of a woman to go out on the field and cover stories that were judged as too dangerous for her?
She let out a scoff. The Jamison Lynch worried about her safety? That sounded even more absurd.
"He did it again, didn't he?" Y/n found Sandy, the closest friend she had in this male-dominated agency, peering over her cubicle. She was from the finance department and would often come to entertain her whenever she needed an ear to cry out her frustration. "What is it this time?"
She cleared her throat and made an attempt of lowering her voice into a deeper pitch. "L/n, I don't think you understand how dangerous it is for you to be out there. Let the men do the job."
Sandy laughed. "That's actually a good impression. What work was he talking about?"
"Kevin Marshall's case." Y/n sat back in her chair and frowned. "The ironic thing is, I was the one who found out about this case. I told him about doing a story of it before he snitched this opportunity and gave it to Eric."
"So Eric's covering the story now?"
"Yeah." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "They're still talking about it in his office."
Sandy blew a low whistle. "That sucks."
She felt beyond frustrated. It seemed so unfair how she always got the bad end of the stick just because she wasn't born with a penis. She told Sandy exactly that which she cackled in return.
"On a serious note," Sandy muttered after her fits of laughter died down and leaned closer. "What happened to Mr. Marshall was terrible."
"You didn't hear this from me, but the police found him stabbed to death and..." she looked around their surroundings, motioning her friend to inch closer. "...there was some writing carved on his body."
Sandy's eyes went wide. "No way."
She nodded. "A friend of a friend of a friend of mine heard it from the forensic team."
"What were the words?"
"Well, if I were to be the one assigned to this case, we would've found out." She shook her head and let out another frustrated cry. "I'm going to quit this job."
"You said that last month," Sandy reminded her. "And the month before that, also, the month before that. Oh, did I mention you also said that several months ago—"
She held out her hand. "Alright, I got it." She glanced over the closed door at the end of the hallway, her mind drifting towards the two men discussing her supposedly case behind it. "I really mean it this time."
"Sure," Sandy absentmindedly agreed. "Wait, didn't you know Mr. Marshall?"
"Not really. I only met him once for work." She winced as her thought traveled to the time she encountered the man who was brutally murdered two days ago. "Let's just say he wasn’t exactly the greatest person to interview."
"No kidding."
She dismissed the topic by waving her hand. "It happened a long time ago, let's not bring that up. I'd feel terrible bad-mouthing him after what happened." She then let out a sigh. "It would be quite a story to cover though."
"Yeah, well, screw Jamison for taking it away for you." Sandy's eyes suddenly gleamed as they narrowed towards the automatic door at the corner of the room. "At least your boyfriend is here."
Y/n spotted the young man walking their way and laughed. "He's not my boyfriend."
"I don't think he got the memo," Sandy whispered before straightening herself, giving the man a huge grin as he stopped at her desk. "Hey, Oliver."
"Hi, Sandy." He greeted slowly. "How are you?"
"Better now that I've seen your pretty face."
Oliver Walsh was indeed an absolutely stunning man. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders and a very defined face. He was a little mysterious and reserved, but underneath that veneer was someone who was kind and caring.
He might not be the most outgoing person, but he had a genuine sweetness that made him attractive and likable. He also happened to have the hugest crush on Y/n the moment he first stepped foot inside this building.
Oliver gave Sandy a smile. "You look beautiful yourself."
Sandy rolled her eyes playfully. "We know I'm not the one you should be sweeping off her feet." She then gave Y/n a pointed look. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"What? You're going home already?"
"Got a hot date tonight!" Sandy overly shared before sauntering out of their sight. Y/n shook her head at her friend's antics before glancing up to see Oliver staring at her with the same look he had been giving her ever since the moment he had introduced himself.
His clear affection didn't go unnoticed. It somehow managed to be a public assumption that he was head over heels for her, something that was often discussed between their peers. As much as she wanted to reciprocate his feelings because she understood how difficult it was to be on the other side of unrequited love, she merely saw him as a guy she often worked with.
"Can I help you, Oliver?" She asked, already weary of the grin plastered on his face.
"No, I just wanted to see how you were doing."
Her face fell at his words. "How I'm doing?"
"I heard Jamison snatched a very important job from you."
"Wow," she gasped, not understanding how he knew this information already. But then again, people had the tendency to share things they overheard. "News really does travel fast around here."
"There's no such thing as secrets in this place. But seriously, how are you holding up?"
She simply shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Angry? Frustrated? Like I want to strangle Jamison myself?"
"Y/n, there's no such thing as a bad bone in your body."
"What? You don't think I'm capable of hurting him?"
"Nope. You're the sweetest person I know."
She snorted. "That's because you keep seeing me through rose-tinted glass."
"Maybe." Oliver crossed his arms and leaned his hips over her desk. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
She shook her head. He raised his brows. "Really? You can't think of anything?" She shook her head again. "Perhaps something to appease your frustration? Chocolate? You do love chocolate."
"I do, but I don't think anything sweet can even calm me down."
"Then how about a drink? Coffee? Beer? You and me? Together? Tonight?"
She let out a disbelief laugh as she stood up, making an attempt to gather her things. "Don't be so sly, Oliver."
He merely gave her a bashful smile. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
"It's never going to work between us." She paused dramatically. "Do you want to know why?"
He slowly nodded, eying her with earnest interest.
"Because you see, Oliver," she drawled as she closed the distance between them. She peered up at him through her lashes and threw him a grin. "I never mix business with pleasure."
She gave him a playful wink before turning around, leaving him dumbfounded and speechless as he stood there where she had left him. He let out an amused laugh before calling out, "I'm going to make you change your mind!”
She lifted her hand and waved at him without looking back. "Goodnight, Walsh."
His laughter was the last thing she heard before she turned around the corner, heading towards the parking area.
Turning him down was the right thing to do. She was not in the right place to be emotionally involved with other people right now. After going through so many heartbreaks and disappointments in the past, she couldn't take any more of the dating scene. It was just a bunch of awkward interactions and unmet expectations while feeling worn down by the whole process. She couldn't even remember the last time she was involved with a man.
A sudden mock laughter rang at the back of her head. You were involved with a complete stranger two nights ago!
Romantically, she corrected. She couldn't remember the last time she was involved with a man romantically.
Oh, great. Now she was fighting with herself upon what had happened that night. That... overwhelming and embarrassing night which she did not want to speak of. Overwhelming because of how much she wanted to see him again, embarrassing because she knew he did not feel the same.
She groaned as her mind somehow drifted to memory, her mind reminiscing that intoxicating feeling of his tongue inside her mouth for the first time. Or that moment before he settled above her, sinking between her legs as the tip of his hard, throbbing length squeezed into her warm entrance—
No! Don't even go there!
She stopped her pace and stood by the entryway of the parking lot, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat. She needed a moment to breathe. Between her frustration toward her boss, the constant interest from her fellow colleague, and the rush of sexual heat at that core memory, her head was starting to spin.
It wasn't until a sudden weight shoved her from the back that she woke from her trance. She jolted forward from the impact before her bag fell onto the ground, the remnants of her things spilling out, and scattered along her feet. "What the hell?"
She looked up to see the back side of a man moving forward in a hurry, not even sparing her a glance.
"Hey!" She shouted, clearly annoyed by the fact an unidentified man wearing a dark hoodie covering his face didn't have the decency to apologize. When he turned around the corner and escaped her line of vision, she realized she wasn't going to get the apology she desired.
She picked up her belongings while muttering curses under her breath. Her phone which lay a few inches away from her feet suddenly vibrated, the loud sound of an incoming call echoing throughout the open space of the lot. She peered over towards the screen and groaned.
She shoved the phone inside her bag and went on her way as she spotted her car. "Now's not the time, Jamison," she mumbled to herself, already irritated by how the night had turned out.
Her phone went silent again. It wasn't until she was a few feet away from her car that it began its chime a second time. The sound felt heavy in her ears and she finally got to her car, leaned against it, and reluctantly dug into her bag to retrieve the device.
She clutched onto it with disdain because Jamison was known to be persistent while also being inconsiderate and thoughtless. If she ignored him he would find another way to get under her skin. She slumped against the cool material of her car and slowly took a deep, aggravating breath before receiving the call. "Yes, Jamison—"
There was heavy breathing at the end of the line. A static sound greeted her before a loud crash echoed in the background. She looked over her phone screen before pressing it back against her ear. "Jamison?"
"...help..."
His croaked voice shot shivers down her spine. She straightened herself as panic washed over her body. Her boss was known for being very loud as he loved being the center of attention. But his voice sounded so quiet now. It didn't have that hint of self-centered confidence he liked to portray. It even sounded as if he were... in pain?
"Jamison?" She gulped and without thinking of her actions, her feet somehow moved on their own, navigating her back to where she had left. "Jamison, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Can you hear me?"
"...Y/n..." Crash. Cough. Gasp. "...help—"
The line went dead.
Y/n wasn't exactly a fit person. Her only form of physical activity would be the number of stairs she climbed up and down in her apartment building. But her feet were moving very fast on its own right now. She didn't care how running in a pair of flats wasn't the best idea, the mortification of something awful happening to someone asking for her assistance was gnawing into her consciousness.
The moment she was on her office floor, she took notice of how nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. The place was exactly how she had left minus all the people hanging by their respective desks. Because it was very, very quiet and the silence felt oddly eerie to her. Half of the lights were off and her steps halted for a moment as she entered her cubicle space, suddenly self-aware of the possibility of how something dangerous might occur.
Then she heard a scream. A deep, dreadful scream followed by a train of curses came from what she assumed was Jamison's office. Her feet moved again and her frightened demeanor was replaced by concern as she increased her pace, turning to the hallway towards his office.
Her movement faltered when she realized she wasn't alone. A very frightened-looking Eric Adler stood by Jamison's door before he turned around at the sound of her footsteps.
"Eric?"
His voice was etched with panic and horror as he rushed forward and held her by the arms. "No, Y/n."
"...what?" Her eyes shot behind him, noticing Jamison's door jarred open. She tried to escape his grip. "You don't understand. He called me—"
"No. Please. You don't want to see him in there—"
"Let go of me! He called—"
"Y/n." His grip tightened. "He's—he's... gone."
She looked up to see her coworker, the same man who simply stood in silence this evening as he took the job she had wanted. The confused look in his eyes from the sudden responsibility he had to take on that particular moment was now replaced by terror; a look of sheer horror, one which conveyed utter fear and panic. It was a look of complete devastation and utter helplessness, a look that made his soul seem to have been just sucked out of his body. It was the kind of look that conveyed the deepest despair one could possibly feel.
He's gone.
Gone could mean a lot of things. It could mean disappearance. It could mean an emotional state of feeling disconnected from the world. But this gone... she understood what it meant. She understood the weight of the word the moment her eyes spotted the surge of blood coming from Jamison's office.
There was so much blood that she should've felt disgusted by the amount of it, but her mind was too busy trying to convince herself that it was real. It wasn't until her eyes spotted a hand sprawled lifelessly across the floor that her stomach started to churn. The stone rings circling around the fingers were the exact rings she often saw on her boss.
The realization on her face had Eric pulling her away. But before he could drag her, she saw a glimpse of the lifeless body, and what she caught had her completely stunned. More than feeling mortified by the scene, a sense of bewilderment settled in. The disbelief of such a coincidence happening etched her mind as she peered over the body one last time.
Because something was carved along his arm.
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There was a lot of waiting. Feeling impatient was one of the most frustrating things to ever exist, it made her feel anxious and restless about the lack of progress after Eric had called the authorities. He had guided her to the front area of the receptionist, given her a blanket he had found somewhere in the office—which she wasn't sure who it even belonged to—and given her a cup of warm tea as he made some calls.
She sat there, watching her coworker pace back and forth along the marble floor. She could tell Eric's mind was secretly all over the place with his disheveled hair and dark circles underneath his eyes, but somehow he managed to keep his calm.
He was steady, still a little fazed with the whole ordeal, but managed to keep checking up on her every five minutes. He even had the time to apologize for taking her job before she merely shook it off. It wasn't his decision to snatch away the opportunity. Though it felt inappropriate to point fingers at the person who actually did decide on the matter when he was lying in the other room covered in his own blood.
She shuddered again. There were so many questions running through her mind. What kind of person would do a terrible, gruesome thing to another human being? It was always the same question she had whenever she encountered such devastating news. She once read in an article that there were roughly 300,000 people who were killed by murder each year worldwide, and to think that one of them happened to somebody she knew felt so surreal.
The authorities finally came an hour later followed by a group of people wearing protective suits. The waiting for their arrival was very long, but everything happened so fast the moment they introduced themselves. A detective in an oversized suit talked to her and Eric separately, asking what happened prior to finding the body.
She suddenly felt nauseous as she recalled Jamison's phone call, how pained and desperate his voice sounded. It wasn't until she heard herself say it out loud that she realized the possibility of the killer being in the same room on that phone call. Or even in the same room as her as she entered the vicinity of their office.
"Ms. L/n?" Y/n looked up to see the detective watching her with worry. "Are you alright?"
No, she wasn't. But she merely nodded and gave him a smile. "I will be."
He returned the smile with a genuine one of his own and glanced at his watch. "You should get some sleep, Ms. L/n. If you have any more information please don't hesitate to contact us."
Then he left her standing there alone, watching people bustling around her with different equipment. She could hear the faint sound of the ambulance from the distance, smell the intoxicating scent of chemicals coming from the medics, and sense her fatigue creeping along her body as her eyes noted the time showed on the massive clock plastered on the wall.
"Ms. L/n?"
Y/n turned to see a man standing close, his dark eyes watching her cautiously. There was a sense of confidence in his posture that she couldn't help but notice. "Yes?"
"Mr. Adler told me where to find you." She frowned at the mention of Eric before her confusion deepened at the badge presented in front of her. "I'm SSA Derek Morgan from the FBI."
"FBI?"
"Yes," he confirmed, shoving his badge back into his pocket. "I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding this past event."
She crossed her arms. "I don't think my boss being brutally killed should be called an event." She steadied her gaze on him. "And I've already talked to the detective."
"My apologies, and I'm terribly sorry for your loss." He gave her an apologetic smile. "Although I would appreciate it if you can spare a few minutes of your time."
She observed him, watching him hesitantly before letting out a heavy sigh. "I guess so."
"Is there anywhere private we can talk?"
His attempt at keeping their conversation confidential from all the people swarming by had her quirking an eyebrow. She nodded and guided him toward the closest space that could provide them some privacy. "Sure... We can use the conference room down here."
"Thank you. My partner will also be present with us if you don't mind."
She looked him up and down. "There's two of you?"
"There's two of us," Agent Morgan confirmed, slightly smiling at the condescending tone of her voice. "Dr. Reid will shortly join us."
The silence after that statement was very, very palpable. The sudden stillness was one that typically left her feeling completely baffled, a state of total shock and disbelief over a familiar name unexpectedly mentioned. The uncertainty of her ability to hear left her frozen in her tracks, waiting for her brain to catch up with the sudden information. "Doctor... Reid?"
"Dr. Spencer Reid. He was talking to Mr. Adler a while ago—wait, there he is." Agent Morgan's voice grew louder as his eyes focused on the man behind them. "Reid! Over here!"
He surely couldn't be...?
She shook her head. The world wasn't that small, was it? Even though she was very bad at remembering names, how could she forget the exact same one she wrongly called as a result of her pettiness? And besides, there must be a lot of people possessing the same name, surely it was a different person.
Though the deafening lack of sound was jarring as if every other sound had been sucked out of the room. It almost felt like everything was frozen in time as her eyes settled on the man standing a few feet away from her. Because there he was, the same man who awkwardly flirted with her two days ago.
The same man who grabbed her by the waist the moment she looked up at him with need. The same man who leaned in closer, the tension charged with anticipation and desire before it lead to an explosion of passion that couldn't be quelled.
But the desperate longing in his eyes from that night was changed into mortification, and when she thought her night couldn’t go more terrible than it already was, it had gotten even worse.
>> NEXT PART
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matan4il · 1 month
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Update post:
Most of this will be about the unprecedented attack of the Islamist regime of Iran against Israel, but first I have to take a second to mourn a 14 year old boy, who was murdered in a Palestinian attack on Friday. At around 6 in the morning, teenager Binyamin Achimeir led his sheep herd out of the farm he lives in, but a few hours later, the sheep returned to the farm without him. At first, it was feared that he had some accident, or was dehydrated, and thousands of people voluntarily joined the search for him. On Saturday, at around noon, the IDF found his body, with signs of brutal violence on it. Based on the forensic evidence, he was murdered by several Palestinian terrorists, and he fought back. The army is still hunting down the murderers. May Binyamin's memory be a blessing.
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Right, back to the Islamist regime of Iran's attack on Israel. I posted about it as soon as the news started being aired here, in case someone didn't know about it. The news broke past the normal time when people watch news on TV in Israel, I noticed it by chance right before I was about to turn in for the night. I'm physically okay, but I didn't get that much sleep, I had to wake up early to take care of some stuff, so I AM very tired, which is why I'm not going to do the usual thing I do, which is to look for English journalistic sources for everything, but I have no doubt even the stuff I won't look up can all be easily found online.
On a personal note, I can tell you that at 1:43 in the morning I heard the first explosion, but no sirens went off. A few more explosions followed, and only then did we hear the sirens. It was scary, for a moment we couldn't tell whether we're hearing explosions of missiles from neighboring areas, or whether something went wrong with the sirens, and we need to hurry into the bomb shelter. It seems like in Jerusalem specifically there was some issue with the sirens, I heard a reporter mention it. Also, the alert app didn't go off, even though it should have, at the latest when the sirens did.
This is what the Temple Mount looked like from an Iranian attack that could have easily destroyed the al-Aqsa mosque (it's not in the frame, but it's right next to where this was filmed):
Quick background: Iran is the biggest financier of anti-Israel terrorism for decades now, including funding Hamas, Hezbollah and the Houthis, all of which have been a part of a continuous attack on Israel since Oct 7 as Iran's proxies. Iran has sent its own military seniors to help and instruct those local terrorists, in places like Lebanon, Syria and Iraq. Israel has eliminated them whenever possible, this is not something new. On Apr 1, Israel carried out such a strike, in which it targeted 7 Iranian army seniors in Damascus, Syria's capital. Iran claimed Israel targeted the Iranian consulate in this city, but diplomatic buildings are all publicly listed. Iran has an embassy in Damascus (in a separate location) and no consulates. That's why the magnitude of Iran's response to this has taken Israel by surprise, because the Israeli strike wasn't that out of the ordinary. In fact, the US assassination of Iran's military commander, Qasem Soleimani, back in 2018, was a far graver blow for the Iranian regime, and yet it did not lead to an attack as massive as the one launched against Israel last night.
It is now known that some of the attack waves against Israel were intercepted by other countries, including The US, the UK, France and Jordan. It's been said that there's at least one more Arab country that helped in intercepting Iran's attack, but it can't be publicized. Many countries denounced Iran for attacking Israel.
We don't have numbers regarding the full size of the attack. Out of all the countries who participated in curtailing this attack, we know that the US has intercepted at least 70 suicide drones and 3 cruise missiles, while Israel has intercepted at least 185 suicide drones, 36 cruise missile and 110 ballistic missiles (that last one is the missile type that causes the most damage). Israel's interceptions are said to have been 99% successful, but like I said, no defence system is perfect. A small number of ballistic missiles did land inside Israel. One hit an Israeli air Force base in the south. There's over 30 people who got injured when rushing to the bomb shelter in the middle of the night (elderly people, including Holocaust survivors, have died from such injuries), and over 30 more ended up in hospital due to severe mental health reactions. On top of that, there's a 7 years old Muslim Bedouine girl who was injured by interceptors debris. A friend of her family that I heard being interviewed said the family wanted to go to the communal bomb shelter, but before they even had a chance to make it out of the house, the girl was hit by the debris piercing into their home, and she is suffering from severe head injuries. The hospital is currently fighting for her life.
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The estimate of how much it cost Israel to defend its citizens from this one attack last night is 5 BILLION shekels (which is over 1.3 BILLION US dollars). That's for one night.
Israel will respond. According to one reporter I heard, that was decided as soon as it was clear how big the attack is, so this isn't about how much damage Iran caused, it's about how it crossed several red lines. This is the first time Iran itself attacked Israel itself, it's not an attack on an extension of Israel, nor was it done by using proxy terrorists. Israel has had terrorist organizations attacking it continuously since 2001, but this is the first attack from a fellow sovereign country since Iraq (led by tyrant Saddam Hussein) in 1991, so that in itself is crossing a red line. The size of the attack is also considered an escalation on Iran's part. In 2019, Iran launched a smaller scaled suicde drone attack on Saudi Arabia, and the latter's western allies refused to launch a counter attack, which led to these countries being seen as unreliable, and some Middle Eastern countries renewed their ties with Iran. That's why how it would seen in the Middle East if Israel doesn't react to an even bigger attack, and how it might drive more moderate countries to grow closer to Iran, is another consideration in why Israel must respond. Not to mention that launching such a mass attack basically caused a paralysis of the country once the first intel became known. For example, all educational activity (schools, universities, you name it) has been canceled, Israel's air space had to be closed, every single ambulance across the country had to be manned, and so on. That is not something any country can simply shrug off. Not to mention, Israel financially can't afford this reality to become normalized.
Not to mention, Israel tried to contain Hamas, PIJ and Hezbollah's rocket attacks for decades. What we got for it was the invasion and massacre on Oct 7. The lesson for most Israelis is that containing mass attacks on our population only leads to worse ones.
That said, there's also no desire here of getting dragged into a war on another front while we're still in the middle of one in Gaza and with Iran's proxies on several more fronts. So, Israel is looking for a balanced response, one that won't let this mass attack slide, but hopefully doesn't make matters much worse.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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shadesoflsk · 4 months
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MILLION DOLLAR BLOODLINE — Adam & Eve
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A political candidate has been found dead and a well known agent is working alongside you. Check my million dollar bloodline masterlist for general warnings.
Chapter 1
pairing: Vampire/Agent Leon x Fem Detective reader
warnings: Rivals to lovers (Kinda one sided at first because reader doesn't get along with men) misogyny, sexism (from the press) gore, violence, death, suicide, blood, mentions of kidnapping and experimentations, fucked up government.
author's note: Hi! So, this took me longer than I expected lol. I had to delete and redo so many parts but at last I'm comfortable with the result. This is basically an introduction to both characters hence the name I gave to this chapter. I hope you guys like it.
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Blinded by the constant flashes of cameras, numerous police officers make their way out of the tumultuousness of journalists and reporters who have gathered —in the name of informing— to be the first ones to publish headlines that will surely raise more commotion in the already horror-stuck citizens.
Thank God the scene of the crime is away from those prying eyes that won’t hesitate to snap a picture or two just for the sake of popularity or being contacted by those trashy and shitty newspapers that fall into the sensationalism homicides and crimes attract. 
The eighties are certainly… one of a hell decade to live in. Exuberant neon lights and flashy outfits weren’t enough to silence the crimes that were occurring each day in a city led by white-collared dicks who are ‘better than anyone else.’ The citizens’ words, not yours.
It was easy to despise everyone right now. From those politicians who share their condolences but deep down they have the same fucked up ideal and sentiment—they were happy their enemies keep dying. To the obtuse and short-sighted journalists who kept asking the same questions.
Not even your disdain and witty answers could push them away to the hell hole they came from. Catchy and well-sold tabloids were their objectives and you were the perfect subject to them. A woman in the eighties being the leader of a politic-related case? Oh God, the newspaper loves dragging down women.
Misogynistic terms were chanted even more than the national damn anthem. “God, spare us from a woman leading this case!” “Is this a new gold digger searching for a politician that isn’t dead?” Those were the most ‘tame’ titles they could come up with. However, rumor has it that directors and journalists love calling you names. Ultimately, those whispers die down as soon as the window from your Porsche 959 rolls down and the flashes of cameras turn your way.
“Ma’am we received news that the body you found was in fact, Mr. Clark. Our Major Candidate. Is there any clue this time?” The young journalist asked you. He was definitely a rookie, that ma’am that fell so easily from his lips, and his stance gave it away. Maybe you could be softer with him, aggressiveness was starting to wear you off.
You take out your sunglasses, the snaps of the pictures get harder to bear but for once, you try holding eye contact with this said journalist. In his gaze, you admire his inexperience and eagerness to get something out of this conversation.
Sadly, there’s nothing to offer from a lifeless body and a pool of blood that could flood the entire apartment of the deceased.
“It’s still unknown. We shall wait for the forensic team to provide us with the results of the autopsy.” Your voice is uninterested, an automatic reaction each time a question is asked. 
“So… The police department is once again showing signs of inability to complete a case?”
Fuck them all. All of them.
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A few hours ago, you had received a call which informed you about the disappearance of a candidate, a major candidate. Of course, a crime would occur when the elections were just around the corner. A perfect scenario to bring the already most famous and glamorized case in the decade more mystery and gore.
A disappearance meant a homicide, it would take just minutes before you were notified that a body had been found. 
And you were right.
Eventually, a coworker of yours informed you—with an annoyed expression on their face— that a drained body was found in an apartment. 
Working on two cases simultaneously was definitely tiring, and it was starting to show on your face. On one hand, multiple crimes are occurring in Raccoon City, all of them involving people from high society: CEOs, ex-presidents, and candidates. Idle good-for-nothing people who can wipe their asses with a one hundred dollar bill, to put it simply.
Difficult to deal with was an understatement. Everyone at the police station knew one thing though— someone important is leaking information. This said individual doesn’t want to get their hands dirty with blood. Acting like a vendetta, in the darkness, they are cleaning the government in a way.
However, the catch of this case was rather sui generis—not even decipherable. Corruption was the root of all problems and it even showed in various scenes of the crime. Politicians were found dead in certain ways that didn’t match up with their own lifestyles. Suicides, disappearances, homicides without a murder weapon. Someone important must be behind all of this and those victims were merely their pawns.
And on the other hand, a case that seems to get more sinister and fucked up was brimming in the shadows. One that also involved those who justice can’t reach. Besides politicians disappearing, numerous citizens were also missing without a trace. Families were left alone without their breadwinning fathers, without their nurturing mothers, and especially without their loved ones.
The government’s reputation was unmistakable, they didn’t care. Protests were organized without any response or reassurance that a solution would be provided. And then again, the damnation and torment of those who searched through hell and earth was once again brought to them.
Without further ado, you walked out of the police department and embarked on the fantastic journey of seeing another dead body. Not the best sight to see after having your lunch but if you don't go, no one else will. 
You arrived at the scene of the crime and luckily, you didn’t run into any reporters, word hadn’t reached them yet. You showed your ID to the cops that surround the apartment complex, they let you in.
The excruciating silence as you wait in the elevator was always agonizing. It allowed your mind to create the most gut wrenching scenarios. You’re a veteran at this point, you have seen 10 dead politicians over the course of the months. However, it doesn’t get any easier.
The first thing that welcomed you as the door of the elevators opened again was the metallic smell of blood. With a deep breath, you fixed your hair and expected the worst. 
“Good morning everyone.” Your voice rang through the living room of the apartment. There was no trace of violence or self defense, but the rancid reek continued filling your nostrils. Nonetheless, the authority in your voice never faltered, you simply didn’t allow it.
Acting tough was the norm and giving no shit about anyone was the rule that followed. It’s always been like that. You can’t crack jokes or show a smile just like your male superiors can. Bullshit, you thought. People love saying that the 80s are the best, but everyone is fucking misogynistic. 
When you saw that your team had your attention, you proceeded. “Where’s the body?”
“Inside.” A cop said. He was a veteran, the wrinkles forming around his eyes and the one-word phrase told you as much. “There’s a federal agent there, though.”
A federal agent?
It was a matter of time before the government decided to send one of its people. They should have after the first one. But as you already know, they’re scavengers, they don’t give a damn about the country nor themselves. If the death of a candidate could bring more votes to another party, they would close their eyes for the sake of it. 
“Anything I may know before going inside?” You ask. 
“Nothing much. The state of the body is the same as the ones we have found before.” The dull and repetitive tone of his voice was proof of how everyone was getting frustrated with this case. “Although this one really looks like a suicide.”
Interesting, a politician who actually killed himself instead of being killed.
“Thank you.” Your legs worked on their own and strode off to where the body was. The main bedroom. For a moment, you hesitated to turn the knob around. Your eyes were fixated on your red nails —the same color you’re expected to see once you enter the room.
And you were right, your gaze which was now looking at the floor only witnessed the ruby red color that painted the rug. And, as your eyes traveled, you observed the man who was lying lifeless on the floor. 
Your eyes then stopped when you noticed the man who had his back facing you. 5'10 inches with dirty blond hair, black leather jacket that hugged his figure just right. Undoubtedly, the build of an agent yet you couldn’t care less about his appearance right now.
Clearing your throat, you made your presence known. Even though a part of you believed that this man must have heard you as soon as you entered the scene of the crime. 
He turned around and you could see the solemn expression that soon turned into a polite smile. So, the blue-eyed male that was in front of you was the federal agent the government has sent? Interesting.
“Hello. You may be the leading detective of this case, right?” There is no accent in his voice nor a belittling hint in his speech. You were used to being questioned about your position or straight up told not to waste time before you could even identify yourself.
“Indeed.” You nodded before stepping closer and showing him your badge which had your name and occupation there. There’s a moment of silence before Leon speaks again, with a faint smile on his lips. 
“Kennedy. Leon Kennedy.” He stated his name, a muffled chuckle leaving after his phrase. 
At first, you remained expressionless, not expecting this stoic ‘professional’ to introduce himself in a rather comical way. Not when there’s a dead body lying at his feet.
“What are you? James Bond?” You were genuinely dumbfounded. 
“Do I look the part?” He had a hand on his hip, casually standing in front of you. If audacity and lack of decorum had a name, it would have Leon written at the top of a dictionary. “I'd call myself hilarious, though.”
“Kinda goofy, I'd say.” You retorted, walking past him and looking through your pockets to pull out a pair of gloves, the sound of latex being stretched followed your answer. This part was always the hardest, even when the body has been already inspected by the team of criminalists, you ought to re-check.
“Let's keep it at funny.” His eyes darted to where your figure was, the scent of your perfume couldn’t override the constant smell of blood but he could sense the faint aroma of coconut and vanilla.
"So... the government sent you?" You adjusted your gloves as your eyes locked on Leon's. His blue eyes were piercing yet they weren't threatening.
"Yup." Leon crossed his arms as he continued watching you. "Kinda late, I'd say. Mr Clark was... the eighth victim?"
"The eleventh." You corrected him.
"Damn, they keep falling like dominoes."
You crouch down to inspect the body, there’s nothing visibly new compared to the other subjects of the crime. Lifeless eyes, and a nasty open wound on his forehead which resembled a shot. But other than that? Nothing much. 
“Agent Kennedy, I don't think you're being professional.” You absentmindedly trailed off as you checked the candidate’s finger, paying close attention to his nails. Just in case this wasn’t a suicide case and there was DNA left in the victim’s nails.
“You're right.” He shrugged off as he sighed. He had done his part of the job before you arrived, so his presence was no longer required there. However, he stayed. “But then again, do you truly care for that asshole?”
Your ears perked at Leon’s sudden question. Sure, your disdain for politicians wasn’t exactly a secret. Everyone at the station knew about your hatred for the rich. But needless to say, you weren’t expecting the government’s boy to speak in such a manner.
Nor did you anticipate that he knew about you. 
“Careful. Aren’t you supposed to be an agent?” Your demeanor slightly shifted into a more serious one. One that warned him he shouldn’t stick his nose where it doesn’t belong. And while you were a rightful civilian who actually wanted to restore peace in the city. If this rumor reached the newspaper, it would be the end for you.
“Sure. But that doesn’t mean I’m fond of them.” And Leon wasn’t dumb, not at all. He caught the meaning behind those simple yet blunt words. “Or are you going to tell me you like working for your boss?” 
“I’m the boss here.” Your expression quickly turned sour as Leon expressed his own opinions. You just noticed the tick of a clock, a persistent noise that only served to highlight the already growing tension.
See, you weren’t a bland person, far from that. You appreciate jokes and even engage in light-hearted teasing with your friends. Not with colleagues.
But at that moment, antics and pranks weren’t something you easily accepted. Living to be compared to men who were incapable next to you built walls that made it impossible to reach your core, to your true self.
“See? Maybe your subordinates don’t like you.” 
“You should learn when to stop biting, Mr Kennedy.” 
Leon just laughed and shook his head. His eyes stopped being focused on yours and decided to gaze through the large window the room had. The perfect view of the city was in front of him, a perfectly corrupted place.
A welcoming silence—after their awkward banter— set in. You took this opportunity to ask for more information related to the dead candidate. As you let go of his hand, you got up and took off your gloves.
“So… Agent, any background information the now deceased may have?”
“Besides the obvious? Not really.” A sigh slipped from the blue-eyed man. “He had a beautiful wife and beautiful kids. The white picket fence kind of life.”
“Minus the obvious opulent lifestyle he had.” You said.
“Minus the obvious opulent lifestyle he had, indeed.” Leon replies in tandem. 
He shook his head, letting out a sigh you didn’t know he was holding. A headache was already brewing and you simply massaged your temples. The sensation of running in circles was once again setting and penetrating your mindset—there’s no clue to even pinpoint the cause of so many crimes.
“There’s nothing else here. Maybe your coworkers have something you could work with?”
And while you felt frustrated for not being able to do more, you let your irritation die down as you nodded.
As both of you exited the scene of the crime, flashing lights and camera shutters could be heard around the building as if they were annoying bugs that wouldn’t stop bothering you. Mosquitoes sucking the blood out of your systems.
Between noises and judging stares from the journalists, Leon’s stride led him to his bike that was just parked in front of your car. As you could already guess, the lenses of the cameras were getting the perfect take for tomorrow’s diary, especially since people love to read about the woman of the year being close to a man. To assert their sexist stance. 
“Hey,” Leon called you, his voice barely audible as the constant background noise was still pretty much present. “Take this with you.”
A confused expression set on your face as you eyed the manila envelope Leon gave you. Before you could even open it to inspect what documents were in front of you, Leon’s voice stopped you.
“I don’t think it’d be wise of you to open that here.” Your attention returned to the blond man who was now putting on his helmet. Immediately, you pressed the folder against your chest, protecting the contents inside of it.
“What's it?” 
“You’ll know later.” His hands gripped the handlebars, already turning on the engines. “For now, don’t do anything stupid.”
Haunted by the plethora of degrading terms you were called, your first instinct was to roll your eyes as you watched the agent driving away from the building and from the horde of journalists. 
Nonetheless, a part of you couldn’t help but read between the lines. Leon hasn’t been particularly cruel to you like every other cop or colleague. So, his statement could be related to what’s inside the folder.
For now, you simply walked towards your car. Or rather, tried. Ready to be cornered by the starved media while cops attempted to serve as a protective wall around you.
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Who am I if not exploited, abused, and corrupted?
A question that used to haunt Leon’s dreams and nightmares. His life purpose has been nothing but being the Government's puppet. Images and memories of being exploited and destroyed build up the man he is now.
Or rather, the beast.
In the search of the ultimate soldier, who would fight against every adversity. A creature that didn’t belong to this world was created. The once human could no longer be classified as one, and he gained the name of a vampire.
His hunger for food was replaced by a maddening and unbearable desire for the vital fluid of blood and his right to die was robbed from him as numerous experiments proved that, in fact, no human weapon could kill him now. 
Leon’s spirit was bonded to eternity therefore dying meant nothing to him. He doesn’t belong to life since his humanity was stripped away from him the moment he sold his soul to the nation. But death didn’t want him either, since now mortality runs away from him as the monster he has become.
It was a statement he grew accustomed to. The world was cruel and he was reduced to a simple and mere battle machine. The best weapon the nation had.
Although, he knew he was far from being the best arsenal the government could come up with.
They were greedy. It's always been that way. And the moment the disappearances started, Leon's nature was once again brought to the surface.
It all started when he once switched to a News Channel. The slow and grim music was playing in the background as the headline read: NEWS REPORT: FATHER OF TWO IS MISSING. Followed by another update that indicated he was the third man who has disappeared in May. 
No hell could be hot enough for whoever was behind all of this. However, Leon was terribly sure that this case wasn’t something orchestrated by just one individual. The anger he had so deeply buried now flourished as a flower. Yet this time it came with thorns that would cut and stab those who wished nothing but to set the world in despair.
He didn’t wait. If he stood still more innocent people would pay the price of being victims of the same destiny he faced. 
— August 14, 1987 —
Mr Clark,
I send my most sincere congratulations to you as I’ve come to know that you’re people’s favorite candidate. I’m so sure your image must be impeccable and flawless to reach such level of popularity. 
However, It’s so strange to me that as a public figure, you condemn those corrupted politicians who indulge in nothing but richness, crime, and sinful activities when your past (and present) does nothing but stain your image. 
But, I’m a generous individual. I’ll give you two options which you can choose from. You come out clean, show everyone the type of sick criminal you are or, you simply end your life. Easy, right?
After all, you didn’t hesitate to end someone else’s.
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redkelpfish · 1 year
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“A superhero problem must be solved by investigative journalist Clark Kent and forensic specialist Barry Allen” but what they forgot to account for was that their wives are both journalists and better than them
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veganism · 3 months
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The genocide is also experimentation on living beings
Israel is currently testing new weapons in Gaza, some of which will soon be sold globally as "battle-tested," according to Antony Loewenstein, an author who has written a widely acclaimed book on the issue.
For years, the Israeli defense sector has used Palestine as a laboratory for new weapons and surveillance tech, he told Anadolu, adding that this is also the case in the current ongoing war on Gaza.
One of the main reasons why "many nations, democracies and dictatorships support Israeli occupation" of Palestine is because it allows them to buy these "battle-tested" weapons, asserted Loewenstein, author of The Palestine Laboratory: How Israel Exports the Technology of Occupation Around the World.
Another aspect of Israel's war on Gaza has been the use of artificial intelligence technology, he said.
According to Loewenstein, AI has been one of the key targeting tools used by the Israeli military in its deadly campaign of airstrikes, leading to mass killings of Palestinians-now over 28,500-and damage on an unprecedented scale.
The current war on Gaza is "inarguably one of the most consequential and bloody," he said.
He described Israel's use of AI against Palestinians as "automated murder," stressing that this model "will be studied and copied by other nation-states" and Tel Aviv will sell them these technologies as tried and tested weapons.
In the last 50 years, Israel has exported hi-tech surveillance tools to at least 130 countries around the world.
To maintain its illegal occupation of the West Bank and East Jerusalem, and blockade of the Gaza Strip, Israel has developed a range of tools and technologies that have made it the world's leading exporter of spyware and digital forensics tools.
But analysts say the intelligence failure during the Oct. 7, 2023 Hamas attacks casts doubts over Tel Avis's technological capabilities.
Israel's reliance on technology "is an illusion of safety, while imprisoning 2.3 million people under endless occupation," said Loewenstein, who is Jewish and holds Australian and German nationalities.
He described Israel's response in Gaza as "apocalyptic," stressing that the killings of Palestinian civilians, including children and women, is "on a scale of indiscriminate slaughter."
- 'BLOOD MONEY'
Loewenstein, who is also a journalist, said Israel has honed its weapons and technology expertise over decades as an occupying power, acting with increasing impunity in the Palestinian territories.
This led a small country like Israel to become one of the top 10 arms dealers in the world, he said, adding that Israeli arms sales in 2021 were "the highest on record, surging 55% over the previous two years to $11.3 billion."
In his book, Loewenstein explores thoroughly Israel's ties with autocracies and regimes engaged in mass displacement campaigns, and governments slinking their way into phones.
The Israeli NSO Group sold its well-known Pegasus software to numerous governments, a spyware tool for phones that gives access to the entire content, including conversations, text messages, emails and photos even when the device is switched off.
Israeli drones were first tested over Gaza, the besieged enclave that Loewenstein referred to as "the perfect laboratory for Israeli ingenuity in domination."
Surveillance technology developed in Israel has also been sold to the US in the form of watch towers now used on the border with Mexico.
The EU's border agency Frontex is known to have used Israeli drone technology to monitor refugees.
Loewenstein explains in his book that the EU has partnered with leading Israeli defense companies to use its drones, "and of course years of experience in Palestine is a key selling point."
"So again, one sees how there are so many examples of nations that are wanting to copy what Israel is doing in their own area in their own country on their own border," he said.
These technologies and "are sold by Israel as battle-tested," he said.
In other words, he contends that Palestinians essentially have become "guinea pigs," and despite some nations and the UN publicly criticizing the Israeli occupation, in reality "they're desperate for this technology for themselves for their own countries."
"And that's how in fact, the Palestine laboratory has been so successful for Israel for so long," he said.
In his exhaustive probe into Israel's dealings with arms sales around the world, he noted that the country has monetized the occupation of Palestine, by selling weapons, spyware tools and technologies to repressive regimes such as Rwanda during the genocide in 1994 and to Myanmar during its genocide against the Muslim Rohingya people in 2017.
"This to me is blood money. I mean, there's no other way to see that and again, as someone Jewish, who has spent many, many years reporting on this conflict, both within Israel and Palestine but also elsewhere, it's deeply shameful that Israel is making huge amounts of money from the misery of others," he said.
"This is not a legacy that I can be proud of."
- 'NO NATION ACTUALLY HOLDING ISRAEL TO ACCOUNT'
Profiting from misery is to some extent the nature of what capitalism has always been about, but Israel does this with a great deal of impunity, "because Israel does what it wants," said Loewenstein.
"There is no accountability, there is no transparency, there is no nation actually holding Israel to account," he added.
Israel's regime is shielded from any political backlash for years to come because nations are reliant on Israeli weapons and spyware, said the author.
Israel may not be the only player employing surveillance technology that leads to human rights violations, but it still plays a dominant role, which is why Loewenstein insists that it deserves singular attention.
Israel's foreign policy has always been "amoral and opportunistic," he said, calling on all nations to take a stand and hold Israel accountable, and acknowledge that the world is buying what Israel is selling.
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wisteriagoesvroom · 28 days
Note
Not the airport purgatory again!! So here's a prompt for you:
Carcar + the word "camera"
~Lo
Oscar’s never loved the cameras. They’ve taken some getting used to. The clicks now remind him of beetles rather than a forensic crime scene, but he’s never made peace with them. Not in the way the rest of the grid has.
And why he’s been shoved together with Carlos, two seats down from him in the press conference, he doesn’t really know.
Well. He does know. He’s not stupid, and the internet tells him, when Oscar is in fact stupid enough to go check, that people enjoy the on track argument radios between him and Sainz.
Oscar is frankly loathe to call it an argument. An argument would imply two people on an even keel having some kind of logical discussion. With Carlos, there is no debate. Just noise.
(And Oscar’s got to give it to the FIA. They’re well aware what they’re doing. So he and the FIA apparently have this in common, then.)
To his left, George is droning on, probably an extremely PR-approved response about Merc’s latest ailing results. Oscar has heard this about half a dozen times in just as many iterations, and Oscar is getting bored. But, necessary evils. For necessary ends.
“Question for Carlos and Oscar,” comes a voice from the back of the darkened room. And now, maybe things can get more interesting.
“Your radios have been making the rounds.” The journalist says. “Carlos, you seem very adamant that Oscar still acts like, and I quote, such a massive rookie. Did you mean what you said, or did you want to offer more commentary?”
Oscar glances at Carlos. Guan Yu, sandwiched between them, stares at both of them like this is a riveting tennis match.
Carlos makes a noncommittal noise into his mic. Oscar resists the urge to roll his eyes.
“I don’t listen much to the radios after the race is done. It is all in the moment. Oscar drives well, but occasionally we are coming up against each other on the track.”
Oscar turns the sentences in his head as he considers his words. What was it that Mark said? It’s important to show your racecraft. Your commitment.
But what the public loves, more than anything, was a storyline.
Carlos has put his mic down. His gaze is admirably neutral.
Oscar scans the crowd for the journalist. Moustached guy, laptop open, waiting expectantly.
It’s Oscar’s cue. Step on the stage. Spotlight’s on.
“I mean. Nice for some people, isn’t it?” Oscar says.
He can picture the tweets already.
Across the couch, Carlos crosses his arms, brows slanting downwards.
Every hero’s journey needs an antihero, after all.
“What is?” Carlos asks.
Oscar shrugs. “Being able to switch your brain off. When you drive.”
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