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babybluebanshee · 5 years

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Seared With Scars - Epilouge (Mystery Nerds AU)

And here we are at the end, my friends. I'd like to thank everyone who's stuck with me through the frankly insane and arduous undertaking. I keep every single comment that people leave on my stories, and reading yours on this one is what eventually inspired me to get back in the saddle and pick it up again after two years. You guys are pretty damn awesome. I'm probably not gonna do something this ambitious again for a good, long while, but the Mystery Nerds series is far from over. So enjoy the ending, and hopefully we can all venture into the unknown once more very soon.

“Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of overcoming it.” - Helen Keller

---

Helen hesitated only a moment as she slid her key into her front door. She knew, logically, that there couldn’t be anyone from the Society on the other side, waiting for her. There was no Society left. There was nothing to be afraid of in her home. And besides, she had to go in. Her spare pair of glasses were in her nightstand. She needed them. Darryl had graciously driven her all the way back to her house, when he had a family of his own to get back to, just so she could get them and Stan wouldn’t have to leave Ford’s side.

Plus it couldn’t be more than thirty degrees out here and she was freezing.

She had to go inside.

The sight of her keys, still stained slightly with Louise’s blood, made her gut feel things differently.

Darryl spoke up from behind her. “Want me to go in first?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“Thanks,” she muttered. Hot shame pooled in her cheeks for a moment as he walked past her and turned the key, but she stamped it down. Even though she knew that there would not be anyone in her house, she had every reason to be anxious. She wasn’t going to let shame keep her from trying to get better anymore.

And the first step towards healing was admitting that the trauma was there.

Darryl swung the door open and walked in, looking from side to side as he went. He motioned to her, an indication that he saw nothing out of the ordinary. She pooled all her courage and followed him inside, holding her head high.

The house was very much the same as she and Stan had left it. She noticed, with a wry sense of annoyance, that Stan hadn’t even pushed in the dining room chair he’d been sitting in while Darryl patched up his bleeding head.

“You need me to check your bedroom too?” Darryl asked. His tone was one hundred percent serious. Helen had no doubt in her mind that he’d search the entire house, top to bottom, if she’d asked.

“No, that’s okay,” she said. “Go ahead and have a seat. I won’t be too long.”

She started down the hall, her hand trailing down the wall to keep her steady, and immediately, a flash of memory popped into her head, of turning around and finding a stranger in a red hood staring back at her. It was followed by a stab of fear because where was Stan, what had they done to him! She felt Darryl’s presence at her side. She looked over at him and he smiled sweetly at her. He was going with her now, and it seemed like there was no arguing it.

She found that now, she didn’t mind.

There was no one in her bedroom.

There was no one in her house.

She was safe.

She had a friend.

They walked down the hallway together, and Darryl said, as casually as if they did this all the time, “I thought you might like to know the status of our friends, the former cultists. I didn’t want to say anything while we were at the hospital. Didn’t want to be overheard and stir any memories, ya know?”

“Give me details, man,” she said, leaning towards him exaggeratedly. She felt a bit silly, but she needed some silliness right now.

“Well, for starters, Louise is going on extended leave. Absolutely no word was mentioned about her coming back.”

“I would say that I’m sad we’re gonna be stuck with sourpuss Sharon for a while, but Louise did break into my house and punch me in the face.”

“Maybe they’ll actually hire some who doesn’t have staggering emotional issues to replace Louise,” Darryl said.

They reached her bedroom door, and Helen peered in. The only evidence of what had happened to her was a small brown stain on the carpet, less than a foot from where she stood at the door frame.

She had expected seeing that stain would have been what made her crumble. Miraculously, she found it elicited no thought other than she was going to have to call a carpet cleaning service on top of her optometrist and goddammit did Louise have to make her life harder?

And that thought just made her laugh quietly to herself as she crossed the door frame and walked to her nightstand.

“Also Matthews is in talks for his retirement.”

“I knew he and Andrea had been talking about that for a while before she died.”

“Yeah, everything just kinda fell through after that. But apparently his daughters have been pretty insistent. I think what happened kinda brought it all to a head. Liz has got Meg on a flight up right now.”

“Damn. I don’t think Ed’s getting out of it this time if she’s flying up here all the way from New Mexico.”

She pulled open the drawer and there, sitting on top of a pile of dried out pens and pocket change and spare tampons was her spare pair of glasses, slightly dusty with disuse, but at least in one piece. And with a relatively recent prescription.

“Right? But even they’re not playing as dirty as Ruth is right now with Muggins.”

“Oh, Leroy’s in trouble.”

Darryl laughed. “Yep. Ruth was giving him an earful right before I got to Ford’s room. Something about this job of his prematurely aging her.”

“Funny, I thought that was because she drinks grain alcohol out of a measuring cup.”

“Semantics. Point is, they’re leaving. I heard the words ‘timeshare’ and ‘Fort Lauderdale’ right before I got to Ford’s door.”

“Sounds utterly heinous.”

She slid her glasses on, and the first thing that came into view was the phone. Not for the first time since things had died down, she thought of calling the kids. She wouldn’t dream of it right now. A glance at her tableside clock told her it was barely six, and Michael would scream her deaf if she woke him up this early on a Sunday. Maybe later, after she’d gotten back to the hospital and slept a bit more. Had some more time to get her thoughts together.

She still had no idea what she was going to tell them about her battered face. It wasn’t exactly something she could explain away with a tired excuse of “I tripped and landed on my face”. Not even Amanda would buy that.

But really, why did she need an excuse?

She thought back to her conversation with Daisy the night before, the shame she’d felt at causing her daughter to worry for her, over something she’d been certain that she could handle.

She still didn’t want her children to have to worry for her. They didn’t need that kind of burden in their young lives. They needed to worry about school and friends and their hobbies, not if their mother was going to have an emotional breakdown or get into a fistfight with crazy cultists.

But, perhaps, she thought now, that worrying about someone you loved was inevitable. She’d been doing it for almost twenty-four hours now - not just about her biological kids, but about Stan and Ford and Fiddleford. No matter how old they were, she didn’t think she’d ever stop seeing them as more children for her to look after. It was just her nature.

She didn’t want her children to worry about her, but she also didn’t want to lie to them. Her lies about being okay had done everyone more harm than good, even though they’d proven somewhat useful in the end. She still smirked a bit as she thought of Blind Ivan falling for her distressed mother act hook, line, and sinker.

But now she didn’t need to lie anymore. She didn’t need to keep her pain locked up so she didn’t make other people worry for her. She didn’t need to be concerned that everyone would look at her differently. Everyone that she respected and cared about already knew, and they still treated her the same as they always had.

And if Daisy, Scott, and Amanda could be okay after what had happened to them on that awful night almost two years ago, they could handle their mom explaining why she looked like she’s lost a fight with a two-by-four.

She closed the drawer on her nightstand and turned. Darryl was leaning against the doorjamb, turning over a dog tag in his hand. His face was unreadable.

“You okay?” she asked.

He looked up at her like he’d forgotten he was in her house, and quickly said, “Yeah, I’m alright. Just thinking.”

“What about?” She came over slowly, stopping a few feet from him.

“‘Bout what you said to Matthews,” he replied, looking back down at the dog tag. “‘Bout getting help.”

“Yeah?”

“Listening to him, talking about Andrea, not being able to sleep...not being able to do anything…” He gulped heavily. “I don’t want that to be me one day, Doc.”

“It won’t be. Not after all you’ve done. You fought it when no one else would.”

“Well, I wanna make sure. And I’m gonna start by delivering this to Hank’s little brother, first thing tomorrow.” He held the dog tag out to her.

She took it, and read the words punched into the metal.

BLUBS HENRY J. A POS 91-470-441 LUTHERAN

“You might have met Little Daryl,” he said. “He works over at the Dusk 2 Dawn right now, but he’s training for the police academy.”

“His name is Daryl too?”

He gave her a wistful smile and nodded. “Hank always thought it was a riot that his best friend and his baby brother had the same name. So he called us Darryl Little and Little Daryl.” For a moment, he focused on the dog tag, and seemed to be a million miles away from her. It only briefly reminded her of Ed, but she very quickly noted a key difference.

Darryl was still smiling.

When he came back to her, he added, “Hank’s family got the tag he wore around his neck. They let me keep the one from his boot. Been carrying it with me ever since I got home. Twelve years, I been carrying that thing around my neck like a weight. I thought it was good to have, to keep him close.” Darryl paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath, then releasing it slowly. “But maybe it’s become more of a penance than a memorial.”

Helen didn’t reply. She simply handed the tag back to him.

He quickly tucked it away in his pocket. “Little Daryl will definitely get more comfort from it than I ever did,” he said.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Helen replied. “I can give you the names of a few good therapists when you’ve finished that. Especially since I’m looking up mine again come Tuesday.”

“I’d appreciate that.” He sighed heavily. “Stan was right. We are a bunch of sad idiots.”

“At least we know what we’re about.” Helen gave him a warm smile. “Now come on, I told Stan we’d swing by his house to take care of the dog, if that’s okay with you.”

“You had me at dog,” Darryl replied. He jammed his hands in his pockets and followed her down the hallway, to the front door, and out into the sunlight. ---

“So what are we gonna do with all that stuff under the history museum?” Stan asked before he tore off a hunk of sausage with his teeth. It wasn’t Greasy’s, but it would do. He’d never felt more ravenous in his life.

Fiddleford swallowed a mouthful of apple and replied, “I don’t rightly know. We definitely can’t just leave them there, but I don’t feel right watching any of them. Now that I know what the others were using them for, I’d feel...I dunno, like it was a violation of trust or something.”

“Honestly, after the hell they put up through, I think they all kind of deserve a violation of trust,” Stan replied with him mouth full.

“Well, I think I’ve had enough traumatic events to last a lifetime,” Ford said, setting his carton of orange juice back on his tray. “Maybe we could store them somewhere else. Somewhere more safe. The bunker might work, once it gets a bit warmer and all the snow melts.”

“Is the Shapeshifter still down there?” Fiddleford asked, narrowing his eyes in Ford’s direction.

“You remember the Shapeshifter?”

“You guys had a shapeshifter?” Stan said. Just when he thought these two nerds’ adventures couldn’t get any more bizarre.

“I asked you first, Ford,” Fiddleford said. He took another bit of his apple, almost menacingly.

Ford looked downright sheepish as he muttered, “Last I checked.”

“Then we’re not using the bunker, Fiddleford replied, his mouth still full.

“Fiiine,” Ford said dramatically, flopping back against his pillows, the smile was evident in his voice.

Fiddleford’s only reply was to stick his tongue out at him. Stan couldn’t help but chuckle. These two dopes were made for each other.

Then he had an idea. “What about the basement? There should be plenty of room down there once you guys get the portal squared away.”

Ford considered for a moment, and then said, “That sounds plausible.”

“It might not even take that many trips if we take multiple cars,” Fiddleford added.

“Sounds like we got ourselves a plan,” Stan said. He raised his paper cup of coffee to his lips, but at that moment, the swinging door in the hallway was flung open, and another draft barreled down the hall. It’d been happening all morning, a savage draft from the rain-chilled morning practically lowering the temperature of the entire wing. Stan set his breakfast tray off to the side, and reached for his jacket, slung over the back of his chair. “As if this hospital wasn’t cold enough,” he grumbled. “What, do they turn off the heat to make people leave faster?”

He heard the tube hit the linoleum before he ever saw it.

He’d actually forgotten the thing was in his pocket until now, as it rolled across the floor and into his foot.

“What’s that?” Ford asked, attempting to lean forward in his bed for a better look, but grimacing when he put pressure on some broken thing inside him.

“That’s a memory tube,” Fiddleford replied, straightening up in his chair. “They’re what the memories the gun erased are recorded on. Where did you get that, Stan?”

“Ivan dropped it, out at the cliffs,” he replied. “I only noticed it after he went over. Must have had it in his sleeves or something.”

“Who’s it for?”

“Some guy named Preston Northwest.”

“Wait,” Ford said. “The Preston Northwest?”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that,” Stan replied.

“The Northwest family founded Gravity Falls,” Ford said. “They’re the richest family in town, possibly in the state of Oregon. There’s hardly a thing here that they don’t have their hands in.”

“So, what, you think this Preston guy is a member of the Society that we just didn’t catch?”

“I mean, I doubt it, since he’s only about fifteen years old.”

“Why would Ivan want the memories of a teenage boy with him while he escaped?” Fiddleford pondered aloud.

Stan studied the tube a bit more, as it caught the light of the morning beaming through the windows. Despite that, it felt cold in his hand. That familiar, primal repulsion was back. He wanted to throw it out the window, let it smash against the pavement in the parking lot below.

Instead, he held the tube out to Fiddleford and said, “I guess it doesn’t matter. The only person that memory is really gonna be of any used to is currently having his body dredged out of the lake.”

“I suppose,” Fiddleford said as he took the tube. “It’s just strange.”

“Well, we’ll have plenty of time to find out later,” Ford said. “I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m pretty adventured out for a while.”

“That is an amazing point,” Stan said. “It’s been a rough night. I vote this is one mystery that can wait its turn. Whatdya say, Fidds?”

Stan saw the uncertainty pass over Fiddleford’s face as he studied the tube in his hands. A familiar look of concentration was there, signifying that he was trying hard to conjure forth any member associated with the tube, try to unlock whatever it may be hiding from him.

But it was gone in moments as Fiddleford let out a mighty yawn.

“I reckon you’re right,” he said. His eyes reminded Stan of a tired puppy, fighting sleep every moment it could. “These memories aren’t going anywhere for the time being. We can get to the bottom of them another time.”

“That’s the spirit,” Stan said. “Right now, the only thing I wanna get to the bottom of this cup of coffee, and then nap for about six months.”

“Coffee is supposed to do the opposite of making you want to nap, Stan,” Ford chuckled.

“I watched a man jump to his death, Ford. Don’t underestimate my desire to nap right now.”

Ford chewed his lip for a moment, as if he were giving the matter serious thought. “Alright,” he said. “Fair enough.”

---

In the depths of the forest, there was a river. The river fed usually fed directly in the falls, but a small tributary had branched off it over the centuries, and it gathered in a small lake. When it was first formed, it was mostly used by animals as a watering hole. But that was before the town, before people, before time had shrunk it to nearly nothing. Now, it was too shallow for anything, even for winter’s bitterness to freeze it over. It stood stagnant and brown and cold, and not even the most desperate beast touched it.

So there was nothing around for miles when Ivan finally broke the surface with a loud, gulping gasp.

He dragged himself to the bank, ignoring the burning in his arms and legs, from weary muscles that had spent an hour keeping his head above the water before giving out completely. Fortunately for him, he’d lost his strength at the mouth of this lake. He’d simply gone limp and let its current carry him here.

As soon as he felt the dry, frozen earth under his hands, he collapsed, face down in the dirt. He didn’t care that he looked horrendously undignified. There was no one around to see him, and besides, he’d earned a moment of exhausted self-pity. His plans - the Society, the gun, his army - all lay in ruination at his feet. Four months of tireless work and it’d all be destroyed by a gaggle of prying, headstrong fools.

He let an angry fire blaze through him for a minute. It gave him something to focus on that wasn’t his aching face, where he’d been headbutted and punched. Something that wasn’t his wet robe, making his internal temperature drop even faster than if he’d been wearing nothing at all. The rage that boiling in his blood made him forget all that for just a moment.

But it couldn’t last forever. He couldn’t stay out here in these wet clothes and find somewhere out of the cold, or he’d freeze.

This was, after all, only a momentary setback. He wouldn’t be thwarted. Not until he finished what he needed to do.

He rallied all the strength he had left in his body, and pushed himself onto his hands and knees. A powerful shiver nearly knocked him back down, but he ignored it. He wouldn’t be out here for a much longer. From watching McGucket’s memories, he knew that, not far from here, was a system of caves, all connected under the waterfall near Gravity Falls Lake. Inside were tiny little creatures that could make fire if they were struck together. That would suit Ivan’s needs just fine, for the time being.

With a grunt of effort, he pushed himself up farther, going slowly, until he’d gotten back to his feet. He stumbled a bit, his limbs still heavy from the time he’d spent underwater, but he caught himself before he fell. Then he pulled his heavy, wet robe over his head and shucked it off. He tossed it to the ground. Wearing it while it was soaking wet like that would only put him at greater risk for hypothermia. It wasn’t as though he needed it anymore anyway.

As he turned, he saw, over the treeline, a great manor, looming over him, perched high on the hills. It seemed to be looking down upon the humble town beneath it, proud and arrogant and fully prepared to rub the townfolks’ collective noses in its decadence. It made Ivan sick to look at, but he also knew that, with any luck, it wouldn’t be there for much longer.

He began walking into the forest, making sure the manor never left his sight. It was his beacon as he sought his shelter.

The Northwest family had so much to answer for. Not just the ones currently living, but the generations that had come before them. One-hundred and forty years of Northwest blood, building their legacy on lies and deceit and fear, reaping the benefits of their treachery and leaving the weak to wallow in whatever meager fate the accursed family had left them to.

He was going to burn it all to the ground.

---

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#gravity falls #mystery nerds au #seared with scars #fanfic #stanley pines #stan pines #stanford pines #ford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #helen bergstrum #blind ivan #the society of the blind eye #tw ptsd

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askfreddiemercury · 5 years

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We all make our north and turn southeast when we get to an intersection. Not too long we make to Boulder City, and it’s in ruins, even worse than Nipton.

Freddie: Woah, what happened here?

I walk to a man standing in front of a large memorial.

Freddie: Excuse me, sir.

He turns around.

Private Kowalski: You here to pay your respects, too?

Freddie: What is this memorial?

Private Kowalski: It commemorates the Battle of Hoover Dam. The Rangers lured the best of Caesar's Legion into Boulder City, then blew the whole town up. The NCR still lost a bunch of troops in the fighting, though. My older brother sacrificed himself so they could evacuate some of the wounded.

Freddie: I’m sorry to hear that.

Private Kowalski: Don't worry about it.

Freddie: Where are you normally stationed?

Private Kowalski: Camp McCarran, but I’m on leave at the moment - heading back to California to see my folks. I’m supposed to join up with a caravan that’s heading that way up to 188, but they’re not due to arrive for awhile yet.

I bid the man goodbye and we walk along the road into the town, but I stumble upon a skeleton and then two others leading into a building. I walk into the building and see another skeleton on the stairs. Once I’m up the stairs I walk into a room with even more skeletons, what is happening?! One of them must’ve been a ranger since his hat is beside him, he had a service rifle, and there’s a holodisk beside the hat.

So, this ranger held the Legion back knowing that the town would be blown up. All these men and women knew that, guess they didn’t have a choice to make with the Legion right behind them. As we leave the building I spot a ranger standing near a blockade.

Lieutenant Monroe: We’ve got a situation with some Great Khans right now. The brass at McCarran has ordered me to lock down the ruins until it’s been resolved.

Great Khans you say?

Freddie: What’s going on with the Great Khans?

Lieutenant Monroe: One of my patrols was on its way back from Novac when it came under fire from the Great Khans. They radioed for reinforcements, but instead of waiting for us, they chased the Khans into the ruins where they were caught in a crossfire. No deaths, but not all of the squad got out. The Khans have Private Ackerman and Private Gilbert as hostages.

Freddie: Maybe I could help, these Khans might have something of mine - a platinum chip.

Lieutenant Monroe: Once the Great Khans have been killed or captured, you’re welcome to retrieve any property they’ve taken from you.

Freddie: What are you going to do about the hostages?

Lieutenant Monroe: “Acceptable casualties,” I’ve been told. I don’t like it, but the brass has their reasons.

Freddie: What? No, uh, I think I’d rather try negotiations, instead.

Lieutenant Monroe: Normally, I’d turn you down since I have no idea who you are, but considering that the hostages are as good as dead when we attack… All right, I’m going to give you a chance to talk to the Great Khans. Their leader is a man named Jessup. If we hear shooting, we’ll be coming in, but it’ll probably be too late for you.

Thanks for the encouragement, sir. I tell ED-E and Boone to wait for me outside the ruins, once they agree I walk inside the locked area.

~~~~~

This place has been through hell and back. I walk past some NCR soldiers who try to stop me by just calling to me. I’m surprised the Great Khans don't open fire on me when I get close but instead complain about Benny.

Great Khan: Fuck Benny. We’ll make him pay for stabbing us in the back.

Freddie: He might’ve stabbed you in the back, but at least he didn’t shoot you in the head.

He gives me a concerned look as I walk by him and into the only ‘good’ part of a ruined building.

Jessup: What the hell? You’re that courier Benny wasted back in Goodsprings. You’re supposed to be dead.

Time to play with these guys.

Freddie: I’m a ghost here to haunt you. Oooooh…

Jessup: All right, quit fucking around. You survived and tracked us down. What now?

Freddie: I believe you have something of mine.

Jessup: Yeah… about that….

He looks away from me.

Freddie: Where’s the platinum chip?

I’m almost tempted to pull out my shotgun and threaten these guys.

Jessup: Don’t have it. Benny stole it, right before he stabbed us in the back. He’s probably back at the Strip by now, laughing at me.

Freddie: Are you kidding me?! I come back from the dead, help a bunch of people, and kill a bunch of people, for this? All right, tell me something.

I rub the bridge of my nose.

Jessup: On what?

Freddie: Why did Benny betray you?

Jessup: He’s a snake, that’s why. He owed us the rest of the pay for the job, so maybe he didn’t want to pay up. Anything else?

Freddie: Why haven’t you just shot your way out of here?

Jessup: I’m not afraid of a gunfight, but I’d rather get back to Red Rock without a few holes in me if I can help it.

Let’s see if this guy is willing to negotiate with me.

Freddie: Let’s talk about settling things between you and the NCR.

He scoffs.

Jessup: What’s to negotiate? The NCR backs off, we walk out of here, nobody gets hurts.

Freddie: That’s never gonna happen. Uh, I’m willing to hearing another suggestion.

Jessup: We’d try to bribe our way out, but seeing as Benny didn’t pay us yet, that won’t happen.

Freddie: Oh, right. Any chance you’re willing to surrender?

Please say yes.

Jessup: And face NCR “justice?” No thanks. I’d rather not spend the next ten years doing hard labor.

I sigh and put my head down, looks like I’m the one who’s going to be bribing Lieutenant Monroe out there. I don’t have a choice if I want to be on good terms with the Great Khans, that sounds like a dumb idea since these guys did help Benny take my chip, but right now I have my mind set on destroying (maybe that’s too harsh but seriously look at them) the Legion.

~~~~~

Lieutenant Monroe: How are negotiations with the Great Khans going?

Freddie: About that… Heh, how much money would it take for you to look the other way while the Great Khans left?

Lieutenant Monroe: You mean… just let them go? How would I explain this to my superiors?

Freddie: Look at it this way - nobody dies.

Lieutenant Monroe: 500 caps would go a long way for some soldier’s families.

[Barter 45] Freddie: 400 caps is a less suspicious amount. You have enough trouble here as it is.

[Success] Lieutenant Monroe: That makes sense, and it's still more than these troopers see in a month.

I hand him the caps. Just how much do these people get paid if 400 caps is more than they make risking their lives?

Lieutenant Monroe: This doesn't feel quite right, but it resolves things and gets my troopers back in one piece.

Freddie: A couple more things. What can you tell me about Hoover Dam?

Lieutenant Monroe: It's one of the biggest sources of electrical power in the region, so the NCR's fortified the place pretty heavily. When President Kimball shows up on his inspection tour, I'm sure he'll be confident that the Dam is safe and secure.

Freddie: The President is coming to Hoover Dam?

Lieutenant Monroe: It's probably just a political thing - you know, give a few speeches, shake hands with the troops, boost morale.

Freddie: Lastly, where can I find McCarran?

Lieutenant Monroe: Camp McCarran is the headquarters for the NCR military in this region. It occupies the old airport next to New Vegas. Thanks for getting both of my people out of there.

I give him a nod and watch the Great Khans leave Boulder City. I grab the gang and head northwest towards a concrete processing plant near the city, wonder if there’s any good loot here. I walk up one of the ramps and find a duffle bag filled with some cash and other good items like purified water, but as soon as I walk down the ramp.

Victor: Fancy meeting you here, friend.

Freddie: What?! How’d you get here?

Victor: Just rolling along on my spurs. Looks like I might just make it to New Vegas after all.

Freddie: You see what happened in there?

Victor: Yup. Guess it’s just down to you and fancy-pants. I wouldn’t worry about him - he looks all hat and no cattle if you ask me.

Freddie: Did you see Benny come this way?

Victor: Fancy-pants? No, I ain’t seen hide-nor-hair of him since the tussle in Goodsprings. I’m sure he ran back to the soft-living of New Vegas, ‘though.

Freddie: Despite it all, it’s good to see you.

Victor: Yup, but this is getting a might embarrassing - people are going to start to talk.

He laughs.

Freddie: But I just don’t like being followed, robot.

Victor: Now-now, it ain’t my fault that Dorothy and the Tin Man happened to be on the same yellow-striped road, is it?

Freddie: Goodbye, Victor.

Victor: Look me up when you get to New Vegas - I’ll buy the first round.

And with that, he speeds off to New Vegas, and so can I. I learned all I needed from the Great Khans, especially on how important Benny is. He’s a higher power of the strip of a group called The Chairmen and owns The Tops casino. All we need to do now is get to New Vegas, find The Tops, and confront Benny there. As we continue to move northwest, I see the Lucky 38 casino as it towers higher than all the other casinos. But before we can get into the city, I need to see what all I can do in Freeside. I want to make a good impression on everyone I meet unless they’re a part of the Legion that is.

Boone: So once we get to Benny, what will we do afterward?

Freddie: That’s a long way away, Boone. I don’t think I can answer that, all I can think of is helping anyone I can trust and killing legionaries. As long as you’ll help out. You’re in too, right ED-E?

ED-E makes some confirming beeps.

Boone: You can understand this thing?

Freddie: You can’t? But you’re still with me, right?

Boone: Sure. It’s why I joined up with you.

Freddie: Alright! Let’s go make ourselves a small army and show the Mojave not to mess with courier six and his friends!

ED-E beeps with the same excitement and Boone just lifts his hand into the air.

#freddie mercury #fallout #fallout new vegas #strange crossover #Fin Des Vivants (eve)

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bleedingcoffee42 · 7 years

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Absent- Part 3

Part 1 and Part 2

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Riza's first stop was the personnel department. She went about her business with authority and nobody questioned her even though she could see them thinking about it. She filled out the necessary forms for more forms which was in no way a security risk and would send the receptionist to the supply closet to fetch them. It would allow the young woman to avoid asking the scary Lieutenant by who's authority she was asking for information, which was surely a relief for them both. However while she waited she had every intention to slip behind the desk, check the directory to see who was working in East HQ and also check the file cabinet for a file on herself which would list her clearances. That would tell her if she worked here at all. Then it was on to the library to see what she could learn in a few hours.

Unfortunately, great plans rarely saw execution on the field of battle. No sooner did the receptionist disappear than the door opened and Rebecca Catalina entered with a stack of folders under her arm and looked right past her to see if the office was staffed or not. For Roy to not recognize her was one thing, for her best friend who she shared the rest of her private thoughts was another. For Rebecca to not even acknowledge her confirmed her fears: she simply did not exist in their lives. Rebecca would have at least recognized her from the academy, she never forgot a face, which meant that she never went to the academy.

Rebecca slapped the folders on the counter and looked to the supply closet door and raised her voice to be heard. “Marcy, can you take these so I can get to the range while Grumman is in a meeting?”

So her grandfather was still in command here. Rebecca worked for him. Roy was here with the Elrics but wasn't the flame alchemist he was....something else. She was not in any of their lives. The information she was searching for was acquired and she no longer needed to sneak around to find it. “I need to be getting back to work as well. Can I come pick up those forms later?”

Marcy came out of the supply closet relived. “That would be great Lieutenant.”

Riza turned to leave and Rebecca gave her a smile of gratitude, but without anything else behind it. Just a simple smile thanking a stranger for making her workday a little easier. As she moved Hayate moved with her and Rebecca couldn't help but notice.

“Bring your dog to work day?”

“He's in training to be a service dog.” Riza explained. With that she left the office and decided to leave HQ and head to the library. She felt around in her pocket for change as she was going to have to make a call on the way. The fact that she wasn't in Roy's life made sense when he apprenticed with Van Hohenheim. Not knowing Rebecca meant she was not in her class at the academy. She needed to call her home town and see if she still lived there, the postmaster would know if there was still someone at the old Hawkeye place or where he forwarded mail to. She'd get answers as to her own moves from the paper trail at the post office, however she already knew one thing and that was she didn't join the military.

It made sense. Roy had been her main reason for going to the academy, he had inspired her to take that direction. Roy with his noble intentions and selfless proclamations had made her see a purpose in life that would make use of her skills and teach her a profession. She saw him as someone worth protecting and the life she lived worth forgetting. She could start over and never look back. However without Roy to show her that, without him planting that seed in her mind she wouldn't have considered herself army material. She would have only had her father's opinion on the military and that was overwhelmingly negative.

The other prevailing fact was that if Roy wasn't in her life than there was nobody to trust with what she had tattooed on her back unless her father found another apprentice. Even then he had denied so many and she saw so few alchemists with Roy's integrity and intelligence, she doubted that was the case. You simply did not find alchemists of Roy, Ed and Al's caliber often.... if at all. So the tattoo...was still hidden. She knew the weight of this burden, how she has to always think about hiding that tattoo, and if there was nobody she felt safe giving it to than she was probably still hiding from the world at home. Without a motivation to leave, without someone to share this secret with she was still Berthold Hawkeye's daughter and not the Riza Hawkeye she allowed herself to become.

All this time she faulted herself for what she had done to Roy with this secret and never considered what he had done for her along the way. Equivalent exchange. Friendship. Loyalty. Trust. Encouragement. Purpose. Love. All came with a price, but what of value was gained without losing something? They lost their innocence and naivety in the war, they gained a better view on the truth and a drive to change the wrongs of this country. Without that pain, without that horror....they would have never embarked on this road.

She left the building and caught sight of Roy getting in his car with Ed and Al teasing and laughing beside him. He was a different man, not burdened by the past that tarnished his belief in alchemy, not the weapon of destruction that made him question himself so much. He was lighter, more like the boy she knew back in their youth, able to enjoy the day and actually interact with the boys instead of push them away. As he got in the car and drove off, she was assured it was still Roy Mustang because he made a U-turn in the middle of the road and ran over a trash can on the sidewalk before squealing tires and taking off.

She wondered if he ever saw war. If his alchemy was, by his admittance, barely enough to stay certified than he would not have been sent to the front. He was still brilliant and observant and friends with Maes, that could have lead him to question a lot. She had to remember it wasn't just the war or Ed's findings that lead them down this path, there were many signs that things were not as they seemed. Towns they visited that resented the military for good reason. Places, like Liore, where the only way you could not see the problems was to not look at it. He could have been suspicious of her just because she walked into his office and he never saw her before in his life! There was more to it though, more to just politics and ordinary military back-stabbing. She saw that in his eyes and she knew when he was trying to read a person.

Riza and Hayate made their way down the street and found a telephone booth they could use to call the town she grew up in. Hayate came in the booth before she closed the door and started sniffing the ground and checking out the smells. She couldn't help but wonder what happened to him in this alternative reality. Did he find a home? Roy wouldn't have taken him, he was more than aware of his lack of time no matter what his rank, and nobody in the office wanted him. She was honestly just happy she had him with her and wasn't alone. She picked up the phone and called the operator.

“Operator! How can I help you today?”

“I would like to make a call to the post office in Frenau, East City Region.” Riza replied and took the coins out of her pocket. The coin on top was the odd one from the warehouse yard, the one that started this mess. Or so she hoped.

“Please hold.”

Now that she had time to look at it she wondered what kind of metal it was made of. It looked like it had a reddish tint, maybe copper or a red brass. The edges were weathered and worn. Ed and Roy had reacted first to the writing which meant that it was the most bizarre detail of the coin and not the circle. She wanted to blame this coin but the fact of the matter was that she was not an alchemist and could not activate it, so how could it possibly be at fault for this alteration in her reality?

“That will be 100 Cenz, ma'am. Please deposit the money and I will connect your call.”

Riza put the coin away to make sure it stayed safe and then put her change in the phone to pay for her call.

“Thank you, please hold.”

She hoped that she would find out that this version of her had struck out on her own and made a life for herself, however she knew all too well how oppressing it was to live in that house with her father. She was independent and far from helpless, but she was also happy alone and was never far from accepting the recluse life that her father resigned himself to. She really had no reason to want more or have a reason to trust anyone.

“Frenau Post Office, how can I help you?”

“Hello, I cam calling from Eastern HQ and I am trying to track down an alchemist named Berthold Hawkeye? Can you tell me if he is a resident of your town before I make the trip out to see him?” Riza asked. She knew her father had to be dead by now, but sometimes indirect questioning provided the best results. People felt obligated to give you something after delivering bad news but were somewhat suspicious when asked directly for what you wanted.

“Oh I'm sorry ma'am, Mr. Hawkeye died a few years ago.”

She stayed silent and made sure to make a loud, audible sigh.

“However his daughter did remain in his house until it burnt down a few years later. She's living in the old barn now, fixed it up and comes into town for supplies if you want me to pass on a message to have her call you? She does mail a lot of books. I think she's selling off the old man's collection through the mail through a used book seller in East City. Smart girl that Miss Hawkeye, I'm sure if there is something alchemy related she could answer it for you.”

Riza had to admit it made sense. Stay home, sell off his precious collection that he valued more than her or basic human needs and then move into the loft of the barn where she felt the safest and the most at home. She could remain detached by using a book store as a middle man, keeping alchemists from coming to look for the flame alchemist's research while also giving her the needed income to invest in the farm and provide for herself. However there was the implication of more. “Is she an alchemist?”

“Yes, actually.” The postmaster said proudly. “Helps a lot of people around here, barters since money is tight for everyone. What we all hoped her father would be when he moved here and we're glad Riza turned out to be that kind of alchemist. For the people, you know? In a town like ours, it really helps a lot.”

“Thank you sir, you have been a great help.” She hung up before he could ask if she wanted to leave a message. She was reeling from the information. She wasn't expecting that. An alchemist? Her? Sure she had wanted to try but she never had time to spare for studies and she could never wanted to attract her father's attention. To ask him to teach her alchemy would have been more traumatizing than allowing him to brand her with his secrets. She fear him, and knowing how critical and difficult he was when Roy was studying under him made her wonder how she ever survived being his student. She never had the inclination to study because inviting her father's disapproval would have made her life more miserable. Studying on her own...was not a viable option. She had too much work to do.

So how did the absence of Roy in her life at all send her down this path?

This was her life and she couldn't comprehend the turn it had taken. She couldn't understand how this version of her could succeed in the situation she was placed in. Roy coming into her life had given her a connection to another human being that she lost when her mother died and her father was incapable of. Roy encouraged her to stop hiding herself from everyone, he made her smile and realize there was a world for her out there when she could finally leave her father's house. He pushed her father's paranoia back into the shadows and assured her there were good people in this world. Roy leaving after his apprenticeship had been the catalyst for so much. She wasn't afraid of being herself anymore, she didn't feel like she wasn't wanted or appreciated, she was actually looking forward to what life might hold. It wasn't all about worrying about the bills or the harvest, she made time for herself and it made her feel worth something. However...Roy had been hope for both of the Hawkeyes and if there had been no Roy than her father was without a promising alchemist to pass his legacy on to.

And it suddenly made sense. She hadn't chosen to be an alchemist, she was not given a choice. Without a youthful and mold-able talent at his doorstep, her father had turned to his only other option: his daughter. Just like he did before, but instead of using her as a notebook he used her as the student that he couldn't find.

Riza was suddenly overwhelmed with the thought of that, how terrified she must have been of the prospect of having to learn alchemy under those conditions. With her father failure was not an option, nor was approval and encouragement. After years of ignoring her he suddenly would have found a reason to take pride in her and that would only mean holding her to a higher standard than anyone else because she was his child. A standard that was already impossibly high.

The only good thing would be that maybe she avoided being scarred by this tattoo, although in true sense of equivalent exchange, would have still been scarred by the process of learning her father's alchemy. She tried to help the people of her town, but remained far from human contact on the property where she spent her life. That told her everything because she understood the rationale better than anyone. Alone by choice, alone because her father would have drummed into her how dangerous his alchemy was and how she was entirely responsible for how she used it.

She went from trusting Roy to trusting no one. She doubted very much that the house burning down was accidental, because destroying it was no different than destroying the tattoo with the flames that were born of it. The fear of discovery was a burden that weighed too much and she would be rid of it no matter how much pain it caused.

There still was a Flame Alchemist, it just wasn't Roy Mustang.

#fic #absent #royai

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frogsandfries · 6 years

Text

Pretty much the usual

So I don’t know what happened to the rant earlier, but basically this:

SPOILER ALERT: I’ll talk about something maybe/hopefully more interesting after this

Earlier this week, I received several plaintive letters from my brother, so we decided at the end of the week, we would visit his ex where they work/ed. Saturday, the first day of our weekend, rolls around and my dad’s parasite asks if she can come, I said only if she’s paying. She decides not to go, asks if dad will bring back fries, he says he’ll see.

We left at like eleven. We got to the restaurant about half an hour later, had a chat with her, she says she had the right address. We spent about forty minutes there, and then went to run a couple errands. Overall, we were out till about two. When we get back, she asks for the fries; dad forgot. He forgets and “forgets” a lot. It’s hard for me to tell, unless he verbalizes, which is which *shrug*

Anyway, she screams about starving (she has three large plastic totes, two or three cardboard boxes, and several reusable shopping bags full of food; plus two dorm fridges FULL of food; she’s not afraid to consume food that does not belong to her and she seems to have no concept of how many calories she consumes to how many she burns), and bullies him into taking her so he can pay for fries and a soda.

I don’t know what happened in the vehicle, but when they returned, the waste was bitching about no one hiring her, she was going to call and demand to know what it would take to get hired. The thing is, we had a job mid- to late-September. She got butt-hurt that all the Mexican ladies kept speaking Spanish around her and walked off without a word. She sat in the back seat of the vehicle pretending she wasn’t skipping work. She never contacted the agency or anything (we were all temping at the same place).

My dad and I decided a couple weeks later that we were frustrated with the hours, the ridiculous rules, and the refusal of most of the Latino employees to even try to speak English to us. Time and again, I will point out that if I was in Mexico and refused to even try to speak Spanish, no one would want to help me work; why should the reverse not be true?

Anyway, round two, we go into a new place, and the parasite gets a sinus infection. Fair enough; she took a week off to get over it, promising to go back.

Never did.

This was a good job, and we had a huge potential to get hired in. That place turned out to be bullshit and they didn’t hire us because we took one planned, military/US service absence, one unplanned absence each. The service thing was to help my sister; but it all averaged out to like a day a month, which, to this day (I know, it hasn’t been that long to get all melodramatic), I don’t believe is unreasonable. Also, it was over the winter, and it’s about a half an hour to forty minute commute. I think our last week or two, when we realized we weren’t getting it, we took like two more days for the weather. Employees there told us how, during a flood over the summer, they were still expected to work in the water ._. NOT a company I want to work for after all, union or no.

So the evil woman who leeches off my dad thinks she’s going to be sent back over there by the agency.

Anyway, on top of that, then we went from my dad’s agency to mine to see if we could get something better. The leech latched on. But her first day there, she told a full-timer she wanted to stab her daughter with one of the rod/stick things they were inspecting. Then she missed the second day; the third day, I was put in the stabby room and she was put under my dad’s supervision (they were obviously on the same pay-grade/responsibility level but he would make sure she didn’t just wander off). Well, she didn’t come in the fourth day because she was mad about losing her opportunity to potentially cause me bodily harm (and let’s face it, inspecting those parts was intense, so she may very well have been able to sneak up on me; or maybe not; I’m very alert to people and moving things; my thing is how much attention I pay to them). Dumb-face mcgoober-brains didn’t even ask to call the agency to sort out her disgruntlement. ._. Ob-vi-ous-lyyyyy she got told to return to her agency.

But she has the....temerity to scream at my dad that he’s GOING to help her get a job. She even barked at him that he better drive her to work a couple towns over. Is that so? So, like, you would have him quit his job to chauffeur your incompetent ass to a job. Really, now? Let’s just totally fucking conveniently forget that valid license in your wallet.

Additionally, side-note: This is the second that she’s screamed about starving, even though she hasn’t fucking left the apartment. So honestly, like, if you can’t squeeze some kind of meal out of what’s here, that’s your own fucking problem. And believe me, she has noooo problem putting whatever food in her face. I have a theory that she makes repugnant slop and offers it to me and my dad so she has fuel to get offended if she likes, but also for an excuse to eat a disproportionate amount of food without sharing.

This was supposed to be a quick rant. This is not quick at all.

In conclusion, I was blowing my nose this morning--I’ve got a bit of PND and my throat is irritated--and the sound woke her up. Well, no sooner does she get done doing her full suite of nature business with the bathroom door open than she’s back out here straight-up harassing my dad about getting her a job, don’t dare he leave before she’s got a job because she’s paid his rent and she’s been paying him back, she paid him back for four weeks (out of, y’know, almost a decade) of rent and expenses, she keeps her receipts, she knows what she owes him, blah blah blah.

Then, my moron ass opens my mouth, so she turns on me, projecting--I should take my fat ass to church, find jesus, I’m lazy, I should get a better paying job, I’m as dumb as my father, blah blah blah blahblahblahblahblaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh. I think there was something in there implying going to church might harm or damage me? There was definitely something in there about how she’s not going to hell but I will.

Just

Seriously??

First, she seeeeee-ri-oooooouuuuuusss-lllllllllyyyyyyyyyyy needs to shove a rotting filthy sock in that projecting shit. Just fucking own you’re a fatberg walrus and get over it. I’m fat, but it’s just biology. Sometimes I eat modest regular meals, and sometimes I lean toward fasting and then have a large meal. She eats regular meals like four or five times a day sometimes. Right now, I have a job that involves stepping up onto a platform, and off it, pulling heavy machine doors back and forth, turning and shifting and rotating, and more. It’s hot, and I sweat like nobody’s business. She......well, it’s a rare day when she gets up for much more than the bathroom and food. It’s infrequent that she goes much further than the bathroom, her furthest destination.

Oh, by the way, I’m not really supposed to write this down. But she used to think I was writing about her when I was a kid. More than once, she took the whole binder or notebook that I was writing in. The first time she did it really just caused me to start spreading my writing between notebooks and also to start writing simultaneous drafts. I rarely wrote about her as a kid; I was too busy trying to numb myself to her. I wish someone had noticed..... Anyway, I’m merely recording my thoughts/perspective for future reference, just in case. Also, I need somewhere to vent.

She definitely projects on me, because she says shit like, I’m lazy, I’m a dyke, I’m a fat slob, I get off on arguing with her--my dad has told me he’s....taken notes on her physiological responses when she loses her sanity with the screaming, so it’s definitely not me who enjoys it. She acts like my atheism is like, some disease that I need to be cured of. She calls me stupid and likes to act like my use of language is a subversion of my further education. She pointed out today that I need to get a better job--no shit. But at least I’m making money so that I can do the things I need so that I can get to where I want and need to be.

Oh, then there’s the like, trying to hurt me with my own words?

I’ve said I’m queer--so she calls me queer, and I kind of have to laugh in her face.

I’ve said I’m lazy--I’m the laziest bitch I know. Mostly meaning, I will work myself to the bone, as long as I don’t have to leave my chair (that’s one way this job is good for me; eight-hour hot-gym workout). I honestly have a hard time having nothing to do, like I did this morning, when my dad ushered me out the door. Then we went to Piggly Wiggly (all I wanted was to go to the bathroom and get breakfast off the hot bar) and went straight to his bus. He’d asked me if I wanted to get my bead stuff and I said no because I thought we were just going out for some groceries and we’d be back..... *sigh* So I sat out in the truck for.....idk it felt like four hours, but it was probably about an hour and a half; I didn’t keep track. I know we left the apartment at seven and didn’t get back till like, noon or one, but we went to the other Piggly Wiggly to see if they had their hot bar open, even for lunch. YES I KNOW IT’S EASTER, but I just wanted a warm, savory meal. I mean, what I really, deeply want is like, English muffins and French toast and bacon and eggs and quiche and whatever. But there aren’t any true buffets in the area.

I have never said I was a dyke. I know I’m not masculine, and I don’t strictly experience attraction to females or feminine folks. I told her once upon a time a “friend” in high school had said she’d heard a rumor I was a dyke, but that person was never a true friend to me.

What else...... Oh yeah, I’ve said I’m fat. Might as well own it before someone can hurt me with it. With about a forty inch waistline, well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ what else can be said? Plus, I kinda like my thighs. They’re firm.

My best advice to anyone is, own the things people would try to hurt you with.

I also call myself a bitch--not true, I’m much too nicey-nice, all peace and love; but maybe one day it will be true; I want to believe it of myself. But no point trying to insult me or hurt my feelings by calling me a bitch, I’ll most likely just grin and thank you.

That’s the story of how I got NOTHING done on a Sunday morning, when currently, my Sundays are supposed to be the most valuable day of my week for personal activities.

0 notes

throwingideasatthewall · 3 years

Text

Clone Wars Episode 16

The Hidden Enemy

[Title Sequence]

Quote

Okay

“ A planet under siege,”

Actually shows a planet under siege

Good job narrator, you’re on point

Aight

Right

[ unable to defend themselves any longer,”

Bull shit

Those Are Adults

They’ve been in war for how long?

Point Being; No Excuse

Yeet

Call on the Jedi for assistance More Enablers!

“Hoping to save lives and prevent further destruction,”

They did not assume Account - ability and Con- tin ued To Enable

It’s a nice design though

“And Anakin Skywalker,”

They dragged the teenager into this didn’t they?

Nice

Anakin

Also now it’s crucial

“We’re Set,”

“ got some guys here that are set to get going,”

Ooh

It’s better

Than Openly Snarking Anakin

Now Just “ it’s a little too much tone,” Back

There we go

Also focusing a lot on that guy with yellow armor

[Bet he’s the new hero!]

Whelp

Everything’s Looking Pretty- Realistic

That’s Dry...

Also are you right next to each other using walkie-talkies?

Cool

Suspic.

Okay Neat

Whelp

That’s A Lot

Battalion

Yeah that’s a lot

Tanks

Yep

Hope They Have Explosives

Whelp

“A little Closer”

Shouldn’t the superior be giving the orders

Like; Fair if he handed off that authority off screen

Would’ve been nice to see the plan coming together though

Right

They’re splitting up

Darn It

That screws up

Whelp

The Fuck?

Who didn’t give a warning??

Like they all just silently died??

Whelp-

That-

Sounded literal plastic cans falling over

Abort the mission

???? How?

Is there a second doorway??

-What

Whelp

Also that some admittedly weak armor

Like one shot and those guys go down

Whelp

Then again they are supposed to be cannon fodder

[or just outwhelm with numbers]

Aka; The council probably gave them cheap armor

Whelp

Okay

Dude, you see flashing lights and a bunch of bullshit going down

Like you’ve clearly shown the ability to put pieces together

And they might be going with a different tone-

Then again-

Cut off

Droids onto Us...

Whelp...

Ouch. .

Evac south tower - His tone is a little too innocent

Good Plan

South Tower

We’re in the North

Not For-

[Okay I’m conflicted are they going for Adult Anakin? Because This Is Kinda.... New Taking the bite out of the Darth Vader thing, But This is the lead up...

Point being; If they’re going for adult, they really need to lean more into the snarky I-know exactly-what-I’m-doing- tone

[Even, Re-assured tone]

If not; then more monotone

This is the best of neither worlds

Does n’t Work

Aight, Lots Of Smart Decisions

[Except for Obi-wan]

You have blasters

Not snipers

How?

Wait-

How-?

They’re

Several

Yards-

Blasters are short range weapons right?

In every circumstance we’ve seen they’ve been short range-

So-

... He dead?

Whelp- Heck-

Aight

Cutting’s a little odd

Un- satisfactory

Get- Over here

????

Now he can throw stuff

Obi-Wan is a show off

There’s five but okay

Right the elevator

Oh roof top

That’s smart

Now What?

No one guarding the elevator

Or heard it come up

(Those things make noise)

Whelp

Good someone took cover -

Whelp

Okay

Did everyone join this roof top fight?

Seriously, where is that plane/ Carrier?

Whelp

There We Are

Question answered

Aight

Seriously

What are those blasters?

I thought they were some high heated sparks that could causes bruises and dents, to the armor, breaking it down

But dude reacts like he got hit by a one-shot cannonball?

Like, why-

Anyway...

They escape

Dude, taking a souvenir

Seriously, that’s sus

[Oof]

Anyway..

[Holy sh*t the red!]

Maybe this tactical droid will help

You’re sus

How they knew our plan

????

Has this happened multiple times?

That seems like a pretty big jump?

Like ‘oh they happen to take a different path and stumble up the stairs, traitor- I’m go-”

Seriously

Night

Base

Why

The editing is weird

Progression-

Whelp, that happened

...

Just doesn’t make sense

That they saw you and

reacted accordingly

Like, what are we supposed to find sus here?

Missing a bit of crucial information

How we got here

How?

Future Tech

Rt-D2

“Least-”

Again -How

“They had all our Intel,”

We saw only one line of it that can be gleaned from basic observation

Please enlighten us

Ambush

Vulnerable

They walked up a flight of stairs

You know what would’ve worked better?

Troop Movement Charts

That would’ve worked a lot better with the dialogue going on here

And what just happened

Here.... They kinda look like Over paranoid idiots for no reason

I don’t think we did

.... it was a flight of stairs

Infiltrated our defenses

Up a flight of stairs

Possibly

Dude not possibly you were ready to jump on this idea

OK so this is a Obi-Wan-and- Anakin-are-overly-paranoid-and-actually stumbled-across-some-thing Mission

Okay those are fine, Just would’ve liked a few more context clues

Exclud -ing the title

Getting right into the murder mystery

“Intel.” STAIRS ....

Seps

‘Who want to betray the guys who enabled our Abuse....”

Enemy Lines

This is really corny

Breaking out the disguises

Aight

What....

Anyone...

Two Clones

Like they do have top security clearance if we’re going with the Obi-wan’s paranoid logic

Cody didn’t say anything...

Whelp

Beeping

Whelp Shit

Why... did you run?

What kind of run is that... Rex?

What?

Also, teamwork?

Rex Has A Gun

Wait, you’re going to shoot him??

Please- tell me that’s a stun gun

Whelp, How?

That Face

Must’ve gone in the mess hall

Aight

We’ve got a big problem

Did anyone switch into armor

Also, ‘ hey did someone come through here?’

You’re the superiors

No one‘s going to question a reprimand on conduct

Oh that you’re going to question someone you don’t know the name of

Like, there’s five guys here

(Maybe More)

And you’re acting like a basic “hey what’s up, how’s it going is going to trigger a spy sense,

Like, there is some protocol on running in the hall right?

Like, seems easy enough

Brothers

Weakest relation in all the relations

Also dude was wearing A gray uniform

Did you just think he was the custodian?

One Of Us

Did you just leave the cafeteria without....

Rex & Cody suck at being detectives

Also what’s his voice just did a maniacal there

Like, What?!

We’ll have to wait for his next move....

What is with the logic.....

This is supposed to be a murder mystery.... but the logic is the weakest part

“Jedi,”

We found nothing master Jedi

[we did toss away a lead though]

.....

What?

Real discrete

Okay

Smart droid

.....

Rex and Cody are the worlds worst detectives

Rex Specifically

But he was always the instigator of bad ideas

R2D2... Is the spy

Whelp

...Aight

Slick

Aight

Whelp

..It was a building..

Aight...

Whelp

Time to have cookies and tea with the separatist leader

No, No Way

Assumed authority

Whelp

Two of them have hair

[excluding Slick]

Who’s name is slick

What

It’s Him

...

Okay now they all have hair

Bullshit Animators

Two of those guys were very clearly bald

Dude Went To Crate-

In-consistency

The third guy came out of nowhere

And it wasn’t Slick

Seriously my eyes on fifth guy

He can appear out of thin air

Nice

Whelp

Stabbed

Okay

Ventress Seriously, did the cloak conceal that much?

Unpleasant

Obi-won, stop flirting

Sorry

Obi-won

Seriously, What is with this scene?

I’m as Ace as it can get

(And not interested in my commentary becoming *that*)

And this scene is clearly ship

Like, should Anakin go to a different room?

[again I’m not trying to make it]

Okay back to the clones

[Thank God]

What-

Dear frick

[i’m not sure which was worse]

Fuck

Also, Machine Gu-

Nope

- -

Are the innuendos - - Going to end?

I’m trying to be a relatively serious reviewer

And.... sex jokes are not my style

Eer-

Right Away

Sket

Dear frick His name is literally Sketch

Else

There were- there was one dude

Also- why didn’t you ask when you were in the mess?

We Will

It’s Slick

“ I got nothing to hide ,”

Yeah, he does

Med Droids

Aight

Chopper

Seriously being last must suck

Already throwing sus

*Up

Chopper doesn’t have hair!

Oh, good done with the flirting

My Loyal Informant

Gosh dammit Obi-won

Anakin, Just wants it over

Whelp

Obi-wan doesn’t wanna help

Nice

Cool

Don’t shame the man for his hobbies (Except for the enabling of war part)

Aight

Whelp

What

Geez

That’s like collecting metal from a training exercise

What??

Didn’t Cody take a feckin head

Seriously, dysfunctional is a bit strong

Fuck

He was doing arts and crafts

At least he fessed up

Forbidden?

Seriously

What About Rex?

Oh whoever took the fecking head??

I’m no spy

Ack

Now Obi-won’s helping

Chopper

Slick’s Projecting

Okay

Tell where you want

Good Job

Saw You

Whelp

Sergeant

Freudian Slip

They Have Missions?

I Mean

Name’s literally Slick (Honestly I would’ve gone with one of the two “Higher Ups Here; Would’ve Gone for a better twist/ Fore shadow-ed the turn (Discontent) Ment; This is just some random guy

Still servicable

They really pulled off the manipulator; Wished they showed this side of the enabler’s more

He Won

Poor Dude

Heck Stalling

Seriously what is the plan here?

To capture her

To...

Get hit with the book

Whelp

He should be long gone

His shelter, is on the other side

He’s already got a Headstart

So, the gun ship. is pretty pointless

Ha Trap

But did they just not use their eyes?

They were right behind him

Did....they just se. something in the opposite direction and was like ‘yeah that’s fine’

Cause Geez

Rex & Cody

Ace Detectives Of Freakin None

Whelp

I thought it was just- A Signal lure Nope Was an actual bomb ... Whelp

Okay, ... Heck

How fast was fecking slim?

Because there’s no way no one noticed Bombs just sitting there ....

Like What...

Whelp

Damn Slim...

Take out the kitchen sink too?

The Usain Bolt, Of Clones

“He took out our weapons depot,”

Yeah..

One Dude

What was he eating?

Pure Sugar?

Whelp

That Sucked

He’s not trying to escape

You sure?

Pretty sure he could do both..

[Okay, that’s enough jokes about his speed, He’s a fast boi]

Make Them

You’re terrible superiors

[Like everyone is but you specifically]

“Give up Ventress,”

“ i’m all yours Obi-Wan,”

SERIOUSLY!

Whelp, Clever

“You’ve served your purpose.]

[Can the innuendos stop please?]

Also what was the plan here?

Why?

How?

How do you know that?

How do they know about that??

What??

What’s the plan, master?

He spent the entire time, flirting

Like I’m pretty convinced there was no plan

“My sweet,”

You Don’t have anything to bargain with

“Estimated”

Dude, how

You are literally in a hole

Hop

Well that was easy

Cool

“Boys”

Err-

(How old is Anakin again?)

Old enough to supposedly be groomed

(So Under...)

Ew, Just Ew

(Despite The (Adult) Dialogue...)

Friends...

Seriously

Poor Obi-wan...

Aight

“Take Control...”

Okay, I’m sorry, my heads in the gutter

(Not by choice!)

Also, Seriously?

You burned- like five things?

Sucks, not really world -ending

How did we get this guy??

Seriously?

I don’t know

Was he the test subject for some like speed serum?

Slick ran into the command center

Why?

Also he’s probably gone

(Boi is fast)

Whelp

That things tilting? How much does she-

Okay, Whatever

You’re on that

Whelp

Jumping is a good idea

Off

Aight

Prepare to march on the city

Geez

Is it that dude

Is this an origin- [I don’t like the movie; nothing can save it]

Delay the Jedi ... Yes mistress

Aight

Right

Heck is the octopus thing

He’s probably gone

Whelp

Lock Down

Aight

Shit Sun

Aight

A Bunch of bullshit but cool

I’m not the traitor you are

He’s got a point

Also, see he could totally kick his ass he did it before

He HAS A Point

Suffering

-Err

Brothers

Seriously, Weakest relation ever

Freedom

HE HAS A Point

(A Garbled One]

Bull- shit

He sustained a lot less hits than either of those two

What

Dicks

Seriously it seems mostly intentional but they really are just such dicks

(Anakin -What the frick)

HE HAS A POINT!

Bidding

Whim

[seriously why is Anakin the more...]

I love my brothers

Dick

Good For Him

Oof

Now the plans don’t really make sense

Mainly just a rushed framing device For the mystery

If you focus on that it’s pretty good

But the villain really saves it

It’s honestly heart-wrenching

You really do feel for the guy

But shit situation and all (And it is a shit situation grooming and all) That that energy should only be pointed at the abuser (And subsequent enablers) And getting out of that shit situation

For your own benefit and for others

Including your own generation (Even the enablers, Who will their dues on case by case basis) Of Accountability And Both You And They Deserve better than to live with an enabler

As for the future generation, Do it right and they’ll know all they have to be thankful for, without a word, personally

The way it should be

0 notes

anthonycharlestabone · 6 years

Quote

Having trouble viewing? View in Browser Monday, November 20, 2017 Welcome to Fox News First. Not signed up yet? Click here. Developing now, Monday, Nov. 20, 2017: Cult leader and murderous mastermind Charles Manson dead at 83 Treasury Secretary Mnuchin tells Fox News the ObamaCare mandate is not a tax reform "bargaining chip" for skeptical senators U.S. general sparks debate when he says he would resist President Trump if he called for an 'illegal' nuke launch Authorities are looking for potential suspects and witnesses after a Border Patrol agent is killed in the line of duty near the Texas southern border Trump doubles down on UCLA basketball player's father, says he should have left basketball players in jail in China THE LEAD STORY: Cult leader Charles Manson, whose followers killed actress Sharon Tate and six others in 1969, has died. He was 83 ... A spokeswoman for the California Department of Corrections says Manson died of natural causes Sunday night. Manson became synonymous with evil and inspired decades of intrigue and documentaries after he sent a group of disaffected young followers to commit murder as part of a twisted, quasi-religious belief that it would launch a race war. The killings occurred on successive August nights and terrorized the city of Los Angeles. The murders horrified the world and revealed a violent underbelly of a counterculture that preached peace and love. Tate, who was nearly nine months pregnant, was found stabbed repeatedly in her Hollywood mansion, along with several of her friends. Other victims included coffee heiress Abigail Folger and celebrity hair stylist Jay Sebring. The life of Charles Manson Flashback, Sept. 6: Manson follower Leslie Van Houten determined suitable for parole FOX NEWS EXCLUSIVE: Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin says repealing the individual health care mandate is not a "bargaining chip" when trying to get senators on board with tax reform, despite some GOP lawmakers' doubts about the Senate tax bill ... “This is all about getting this passed in the Senate, that’s the objective. This isn’t a bargaining chip. The president thinks we should get rid of it, I think we should get rid of it—it’s an unfair tax on poor people,” Mnuchin told Chris Wallace in an exclusive interview on "Fox News Sunday." For President Trump, a legislative win is among his top priorities and he wants Congress to pass tax reform by Christmas. Senate Republicans’ tax reform legislation includes repealing ObamaCare's individual mandate. Not all Republicans are on board. Sen. Susan Collins argued that getting rid of the mandate could lead to higher health insurance premiums for some middle-income Americans. Other Republican senators not fully on-board with the tax reform plan include: Ron Johnson of Wisconsin, Bob Corker from Tennessee, Rand Paul of Kentucky and Jeff Flake and John McCain, both from Arizona. Trump reignites feud with Flake, predicts he'll vote no on tax cuts House passes GOP tax reform bill: How does the Senate's version compare? A NUCLEAR DEBATE: The U.S.'s top nuclear commander has sparked a debate after saying he would resist President Trump's order if he called for an "illegal” nuclear launch." ... Air Force General John Hyten, commander of the U.S. Strategic Command (STRATCOM), started the debate when he told an audience at the Halifax International Security Forum in Nova Scotia, Canada over the weekend that he had thought a lot about what to say if he received such an order. "And if it’s illegal, guess what’s going to happen? I‘m going to say, 'Mr. President, that’s illegal.’ And guess what he’s going to do? He's going to say, ‘What would be legal?’ And we’ll come up with options, of a mix of capabilities to respond to whatever the situation is, and that’s the way it works." DEATH AT THE BORDER: Authorities are looking for potential suspects after a U.S. Border Patrol agent was killed in the line of duty while patrolling the Big Bend Sector of Texas along the southern border with Mexico ... Agent Rogelio Martinez, 36, died of injuries sustained Sunday while responding to “activity” near Interstate 10 in the Van Horn Station area, according to a news release from U.S. Customs and Border Protection. Martinez and his partner, who was injured, were transported to a hospital. The partner, who was not identified, remains hospitalized in serious condition. Border Protection spokesman Carlos Diaz told The Associated Press the FBI has taken over the investigation. 'UNGRATEFUL 'BALLERS: President Trump has double-dunked in his war of words with the outspoken father of one of the UCLA players detained in China for shoplifting, calling him "very ungrateful" and saying he should have left the students in jail ... "Shoplifting is a very big deal in China, as it should be (5-10 years in jail), but not to father LaVar," Trump tweeted late Sunday. "Should have gotten his son out during my next trip to China instead. China told them why they were released. Very ungrateful!" LaVar Ball, no stranger to controversy and outrageous statements himself, irked Trump when he downplayed the president's successful effort to get his son LiAngelo and his teammates released from a China jail during his recent trip to Asia. LaVar Ball's 'Big Baller Brand' suffers setback after UCLA shoplifting arrest AS SEEN ON FOX NEWS WEEKEND HATERS ARE GONNA HATE: "Obviously you're still going to have your haters, but let them hate. I think people really need to learn how to get back to the issues."" – Tyrell Brown, 20, on "Fox & Friends Weekend," reflecting on the reaction he and his best friend, Ed Ford Jr., to being the youngest black Republicans ever elected to office in left-leaning Connecticut. WATCH ARE THE CLINTONS ABOVE THE LAW?: "Hillary is from the school of lie, deny, and delay. She and the Obama administration have thwarted Congress at every turn. Investigations are drawn out for so long that America's collective memory fades to the point where no one really cares anymore, which is just what the plan was in the first place" – Judge Jeanine Pirro, in her "Opening Statement" on "Justice with Judge Jeanine," blasting the failure to appoint a special counsel for the various scandals surrounding Hillary Clinton and the Obama administration . WATCH ACROSS THE NATION Franken reportedly won't resign, amid more congressional calls to deal with allegations against him and Roy Moore. NFL's Marshawn Lynch sits for US anthem, stands for Mexican anthem. FBI releases 1971 letter that D.B. Cooper sleuth says could be from notorious hijacker. MINDING YOUR BUSINESS Sunday Morning Futures Interview: Eric Trump: There is 'zero collusion with Russia.' IBM could be set for gains after long slump: Barron's Oil markets tepid ahead of Nov. 30 OPEC meeting. NEW IN FOX NEWS OPINION What the first Thanksgiving can teach a divided America. Protests in support of undocumented immigrants are part of a proud American tradition. Does your gas and electricity cost too much? You can thank liberals for that. HOLLYWOOD SQUARED Model accuses Russell Simmons of sexually assaulting her while Brett Ratner allegedly watched. Justice League performs below expectations. David Cassidy suffering from organ failure, surrounded by family. DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THIS? Who owns art made by Guantanamo detainees? The artist captives? Or the US? Trader Joe's recalls packaged salads over glass shards, plastic concerns. Couple says police detained them after mistaking hibiscus plants for marijuana. STAY TUNED On Fox News: Fox & Friends, 6 a.m. ET: A Consumer Reports electronics expert shares Black Friday tips; a look back at the band Fox & Friends viewers helped send to the inauguration. Hannity, 9 p.m. ET: Newt Gingrich will sound off on the latest revelations in the Uranium One and Trump dossier scandals. On Fox Business: Mornings with Maria, 6 a.m. ET: Kellyanne Conway, counselor to President Trump, sounds off on the hot topics facing the White House today, from tax reform, to Trump's war of words with LaVar Ball, to calls for a special counsel on Clinton-related scandals; Rep. Ron DeSantis on the call for a special counsel on Clinton-related scandals; legal scholar Alan Dershowitz takes on the sex misconduct allegations facing Roy Moore, Sen. Al Franken and several Hollywood figures; Reps. Doug Collins and John Delaney on latest in the quest for tax reform; Patrick Byrne, Overstock.com Founder and CEO, on being inducted into the Utah Technology Council Hall of Fame and more. Varney & Co., 9 a.m. ET: Corey Lewandowski on the state of the Russian collusion investigation; football legend Herschel Walker sounds off on the NFL anthem protests. actor Stephen Baldwin discusses his new project. Countdown to the Closing Bell, 3 p.m. ET: Rep. Chris Collins on why the GOP must push through tax reform now; Cox Communications President Pat Esser on adding Netflix to his cable service. On Fox News Radio: The Brian Kilmeade Show, 9 a.m. ET to Noon ET: Sen. Lindsey Graham tackles the quest for tax reform and the sex misconduct scandals surrounding Roy Moore and Sen. Al Franken; New York Post columnist Michael Goodwin explains why tax-suffocated New Yorkers need reform ASAP; Dick Lynch gives the inside story on his "Good Deeds Flag Program" Check out the Fox News Rundown! Fox News Radio's new long-form podcast features insights from top newsmakers, along with reporters and contributors from across all Fox News Channel platforms. All episodes of this podcast can be found at: www.foxnewsrundown.com. Want it sent straight to your mobile device? Subscribe through Apple Podcasts, Google Play, and Stitcher. #OnThisDay 1985: The first version of Microsoft's Windows operating system, Windows 1.0, is officially released. 1976: The movie Rocky, starring Sylvester Stallone, premieres in New York City. 1947: Britain's future queen, Princess Elizabeth, marries Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, at Westminster Abbey. Thank you for joining us on Fox News First! Enjoy your day and we'll see you in your inbox first thing Tuesday morning. Unsubscribe | Contact Us ©2017 Fox News Network, LLC. All Rights Reserved. 1211 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY, 10036. Privacy Policy.

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hollywoodjuliorivas · 7 years

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At USC, a Hindu lawyer leads the spiritual way Varun Soni is one of a few to break the Protestant chaplain mold VARUN SONI, dean of religious life at USC, speaks during a service honoring professor Bosco Tjan, who was killed in December. (Photographs by Allen J. Schaben Los Angeles Times) SONI, middle, Father Richard Sunwoo, left, of USC’s Caruso Catholic Center and the Rev. James Burklo, associate dean of religious life, embrace at the ceremony for Tjan. () By Rosanna Xia Varun Soni straightened his shoulders and grasped the lectern, his dark suit flanked by the stately white robes of priests and ministers. A beloved professor had been stabbed to death. As USC’s head chaplain, it fell to Soni to help the hundreds gathered outside that day to process their loss. And so he spoke to them of the stories he’d collected, the pain he’d shared, the grief he had witnessed. And he offered words to help them, though not from the Bible or any other religious text. “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel,” he said, quoting Maya Angelou, before he bowed his head in a universal “Amen.” Soni is an unusual college chaplain. He is a Hindu. He has a law degree. In 2008, when USC hired him as its dean of religious life, he was the sole head chaplain at a major American university who was not only not a Christian but not an ordained Christian at that. Today, at a time when differences — religious and otherwise — grow ever more fraught and complex, he remains all but alone in breaking the Protestant chaplain mold, except for a rabbi at Dartmouth, another at Wesleyan, a Buddhist at Emerson. “It’s very, very hard to divorce the pomp and circumstances of academia from particularly Protestant traditions,” said Dena Bodian, president of the National Assn. of College and University Chaplains. “Chaplains like Varun enable us all to rethink what chaplaincy in higher ed could look like.” The job, after all, is about much more than Christianity. As USC’s spiritual leader and moral voice, Soni oversees about 90 campus religious groups including atheists and agnostics, Baha’is and Zoroastrians. Inside and outside the lecture halls and dormitories, he bridges what he sees as the gap between the slow-moving wheels of academic change and a new generation’s impatience with tradition. He counters the tendency to split apart and subdivide with a message of tolerance, coexistence and respect. “If we want to know what religion is going to look like in the United States in 20 years, just look at what’s happening on college campuses now,” he said. “Particularly at a time when our country is so polarized, and people aren’t speaking to each other.” Soni himself exemplifies the many in the one. He holds five degrees — from Harvard Divinity School, UC Santa Barbara, UCLA’s law school and the University of Cape Town, where he wrote his doctoral dissertation in religious studies on Bob Marley as a spiritual figure who used his work to spread a divine message. As an undergraduate at Tufts University, Soni studied in India at Bodh Gaya, where Buddha attained enlightenment. He’s consulted for the Obama administration, produced a graphic novel and advises celebrity religious scholar Reza Aslan. The son of immigrant doctors, he was raised in Newport Beach, where he went to a Catholic elementary school and learned from his best friends, who were Jewish, and his grandfather, a Buddhist who grew up around Mahatma Gandhi. “Gandhi, that’s why I went to law school and studied religion,” Soni said, nodding to a framed portrait hung alongside the Dalai Lama and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. in his office. “Those are my guys — people who brought together the spiritual and the scholarly world for the purposes of social change.” What better place to bridge these two worlds than a college campus? It’s not easy, Soni acknowledged, to guide a generation that grew up seeing religion as a source of terrorism and patriarchy, whose institutions covered up child abuse and preached discrimination. More and more millennials are rejecting formal religion but seeking a spiritual sense of purpose. It helps that Soni’s approach centers more on commonality than God. “We’re oriented around meaning and purpose and authenticity and identity and significance,” he said. “My concern is that as students leave traditional religious congregations, they haven’t been taught how to build an intentional community of like-minded people in a way that creates empathy and compassion and a sense of belonging. That’s compounded by the fact that this is a generation that was born into technology.… You may have 500 friends on Facebook, but what does that mean in real life?” Around campus, he’s facilitated interfaith retreats, promoted LGBTQ Bible studies and taught courses on misunderstood religions such as Islam and Sikhism. “My programming is my pulpit,” he likes to say. After the Trump administration announced a travel ban that alienated Muslims, his phone rang nonstop. Empowered by Soni’s inclusive approach, dozens of students, professors and religious leaders rallied alongside their Muslim peers and attended a local mosque, where they joined in the midday Juma’h prayer. “Varun does a good job of keeping us moving in the same direction,” said Dov Wagner, a rabbi at USC. Soni, who is 42, could be mistaken for a graduate student. His hair is cut in a fade. He often teaches in jeans. He knows how to speak to a generation used to abbreviations and hashtags. One afternoon, he walked his students through the religious history of northern India’s Punjab, where his family is from. He rolled up his sleeve to show them his Sikh kara , a delicate steel bracelet he has worn since his mother gave it to him when he was small. “Traditionally, these are much thicker and protected one’s wrist when you went to war,” he said, attempting to mimic a sword fight with his hands. “Luckily, my days of swordplay are over.” After class, one student came up and said he was Punjabi as well, then shyly reached out for a handshake. “Right on, Pun-ja-bis!” Soni cheered. Soni tries hard to reach everyone. As a way to include students who don’t believe in God, for instance, he hired a “humanist chaplain” to collaborate with other religious leaders on campus. “Because of Varun, these other chaplains aren’t threatened by me,” said Bart Campolo, who uses his skills as a former pastor to guide students in a secular way. “I’m not here to attack anybody’s belief system. They realize I’m just another guy trying to help students answer life’s ultimate questions.” Eugenia Huang, whose father died a week before she went off to college, said she was grateful to encounter Soni at a freshman dinner, at which he urged students to feel free to come talk to him. “I really liked the idea that he was about spirituality, instead of forcing any religion down my throat,” Huang said. “You often see people turn to religion when they’re sick or experiencing pain, and so I had always viewed it as something for the weak.” Now a sophomore, she is taking Soni’s global religions course, which has changed her thinking: “I’m learning that a lot of the times, people turn to religion for the community and they just want to know: What’s our purpose?” Soni also has inspired a number of non-Christian students to pursue careers in religious leadership. Interfaith Youth Core in Chicago has led the way in bringing college students of different faiths together. Founder Eboo Patel speaks of students who’ve learned from Soni as if they’re top players in a fantasy draft. The Buddhist who went to multiple divinity schools in order to one day be a campus chaplain like Soni. The Muslim doctor who is studying religious diversity as it applies to healthcare. “You don’t get interested in that unless you’re influenced by somebody like Varun,” Patel said. “Now multiply that by 25 or 50 young people a year, and multiply that by 10 or 15 years, and think about the number of people who are going into everything from diplomacy to chaplaincy to medicine to business who have a really refined sense of religious diversity.” As an ever more diverse group of religious leaders seeks positions on ever more diverse campuses, universities will need to let go of outdated assumptions about what a head chaplain should look like, said Adeel Zeb, the imam at the Claremont Colleges. “We’re at a crossroads,” said Zeb, who was elected recently as the first Muslim to lead the national group of college chaplains. “If you start defining a chaplain as a spiritual healer, an ethical leader and emotional healer on campus, regardless of anyone’s faith traditions, if you start focusing on the human emotions and the human spirit, it enables more diverse possibilities.” One day in February, dozens of USC religious leaders of many faiths gathered in a conference room next to Soni’s office. It was their first all-chaplain meeting since President Trump’s inauguration, and each came troubled by anxieties many of their students were feeling. Soni sat back and listened to his colleagues — Episcopalian, Catholic, Mormon, Buddhist, Jewish — weigh in on the hatred unleashed by the recent political rhetoric. “So what should our role be, running our different groups on campus?” Soni asked. “Is an attack on one religion an attack on all religions?” Campolo, the humanist chaplain, brought up the words of German Pastor Martin Niemoller, familiar to everyone in the room: First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out — Because I was not a Socialist. Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out — Because I was not a Trade Unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out — Because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me — and there was no one left to speak for me. A fellow pastor led the group in a prayer. They stood in a circle, raised their right hands toward Soni and vowed as one to lead their communities on the path they all shared. [email protected]

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cryptokingrobiul · 7 years

Text

Top 20 Broker

New Post has been published on http://www.top20broker.com/news/toll-london-attack-global-assailant-born-britain/

Toll of London Attack Is Global for an Assailant Born in Britain

The roster of the dead and wounded spanned the globe: a veteran Scotland Yard constable, a Mormon couple from Utah, South Korean tourists, French high schoolers and Romanian lovers.

The killer turned out to be homegrown, a 52-year-old Briton, Khalid Masood, who had a criminal record but was not on any police-monitoring lists. The Islamic State, which rejects peace and coexistence, described Mr. Masood on Thursday as a disciple and a hero for the assault carried out a day earlier in the shadow of Big Ben.

Mr. Masood plowed a rented Hyundai sport utility vehicle through pedestrians on the Westminster Bridge, killing two and injuring at least 40; crashed the vehicle into a fence; and then emerged brandishing knives to fatally stab the constable before other police officers shot and killed him.

On Thursday evening, another seriously injured victim died, bringing the total number of dead to five, including Mr. Masood.

Details about Mr. Masood emerged on Thursday as the government worked to project normalcy and calm nerves.

The authorities emphasized that they thought the assailant had acted alone, and that they did not expect any further attacks. But they raided six properties across the country, detaining eight people in London and Birmingham.

“Yesterday, an act of terrorism tried to silence our democracy,” Prime Minister Theresa May told Parliament, addressing colleagues who a day earlier had been placed on lockdown for hours. “We are not afraid, and our resolve will never waver in the face of terrorism.” She called the violence “an attack on free people everywhere.”

At the United Nations, where the Security Council observed a minute of silence, Britain’s foreign secretary, Boris Johnson, said, “The world is united to defeat the people who launched this attack and to defeat their bankrupt and odious ideology.”

Even as the British capital returned to its daily rhythms, and as Parliament resumed business, police officers were trying to learn whether they had missed signs of Mr. Masood’s radicalization.

He was born on Dec. 25, 1964, in Kent, in southeastern England, and had recently lived near Birmingham, historically known for its automotive industry and now home to many South Asian and Caribbean immigrants and their children. It was there, in the Spring Hill neighborhood, that Mr. Masood rented from an Enterprise branch the Hyundai Tucson that he used in the attack.

Mr. Masood had a record of convictions, from 1983 to 2003, for assault, weapons possession and violations of public order. But he was not the subject of any current investigation, and “there was no prior intelligence about his intent to mount a terrorist attack,” the London police said.

Birmingham has a history of connections with radicalism. It was home to Rashid Rauf, a liaison to Al Qaeda and a main suspect in a plot to blow up trans-Atlantic airliners in 2006; he was killed in 2008 in an American airstrike in northern Pakistan. Last year, security services foiled a bomb plot in Birmingham, linked to extremists.

The Home Office made support for the Islamic State a criminal offense in June 2014, when Mrs. May was home secretary, and experts on radicalism said that the change had driven many extremists underground.

On Thursday morning, the Islamic State issued a statement on the messaging app Telegram, calling the attacker a soldier who had “carried out the operation in response to appeals” to fight Western powers involved in military operations in the Middle East. The group has called for attacks on Britain, and Mr. Masood’s assault was reminiscent of attacks in France and Germany carried out with vehicles. A man tried to drive into a crowd in Antwerp, Belgium, on Thursday but was stopped.

Mrs. May visited victims at a hospital in London for 40 minutes on Thursday, according to her office. Details about most have not been released, but some information has dribbled out.

Police Constable Keith Palmer, 48, a member of the Parliamentary and Diplomatic Protection Command, was patrolling the Parliament building when the assailant fatally stabbed him. Tributes for Constable Palmer have poured in, and the Metropolitan Police announced on Twitter that his badge number would be retired.

“Keith Palmer was killed while bravely doing his duty — protecting our city and the heart of our democracy from those who want to destroy our way of life,” London’s mayor, Sadiq Khan, said.

Kurt W. Cochran, an American traveling in Europe with his wife, Melissa Payne Cochran, died of injuries, according to a statement from the family issued through the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Salt Lake City.

Clint Payne, Mr. Cochran’s brother-in-law, said in the statement that the couple had been traveling in Europe for their 25th wedding anniversary, and had been scheduled to fly home on Thursday. He called Mr. Cochran “a good man and a loving husband.”

Mr. Cochran’s wife was wounded in the attack, and hospitalized with “a broken leg, a broken rib and a cut on her head,” her sister, Sarah Payne-Mcfarlane, said in a post on Facebook. Their parents were serving as missionaries in London, according to the church.

The couple ran a recording studio in West Bountiful, Utah, and Mr. Cochran had shared pictures of their stops in Germany and Scotland.

Aysha Frade, 43, a British teacher who lived in London, was fatally injured as she was heading to pick up her two daughters. She taught Spanish not far from Westminster Bridge, according to the Spanish newspaper La Voz de Galicia, and she had family in Spain, according to the Spanish Foreign Ministry.

The injured also included three 10th-grade boys from the Brittany region of France who were on the bridge with other visiting students and who sustained leg and arm fractures. On Thursday, the French Education Ministry said that their conditions were no longer life-threatening.

Five South Koreans were wounded when they were mobbed by a crowd fleeing the attack site, according to the South Korean Foreign Ministry. Four of them — three women and a man in their 50s and 60s — suffered fractures and other injuries. A 67-year-old woman, however, required surgery for a head injury, according to South Korean news reports.

The two Romanian victims, Andreea Cristea, 31, and Andrei Burnaz, 32, were from the Black Sea port city of Constanta, according to the Romanian news agency Mediafax, which quoted an official saying they had been visiting London to celebrate Mr. Burnaz’s birthday.

Ms. Cristea was rescued after she plunged off the bridge into the Thames as the assailant careened the S.U.V. through the crowd, and news reports said she suffered serious head injuries and lung damage. Mr. Burnaz’s foot was fractured.

An area outside Parliament remained a large crime scene on Thursday, as police officers examined the pavement stones for clues.

The Palace of Westminster, which includes the Houses of Parliament, is a bewildering warren of corridors, and the work of ensuring that it was clear of assailants took time in the immediate aftermath of the assault. A group of visiting schoolchildren — some in tears — were among those caught up in the confusion, which lasted for hours.

Lawmakers were confined to specific areas, where they were given water and in some cases sandwiches. But what some lacked most of all was the power to communicate, and to check that their staff was safe.

Over all, the atmosphere was one of calm and cooperation, however. “People appreciated the gravity of the situation,” said Nigel Evans, a Conservative lawmaker.

That may have been partly because an attack of this type had not been completely unexpected. Security has been noticeably tightened in Parliament in recent years, with large barriers placed in front of parts of the building to thwart the threat of a truck bomb. Police officers with submachine guns patrol the grounds routinely.

But the complex is by a busy street, and some lawmakers still wonder whether some of the security was designed with the idea of fending off the type of attacks once mounted by the Irish Republican Army, which in 1979 assassinated a Conservative lawmaker, Airey Neave, using a car bomb in Parliament.

“I am shocked, but I am not surprised,” Chris Bryant, a Labour lawmaker, said of the latest attack. “We have always known that a marauding attack by an individual would be the most difficult to prevent.”

On Thursday, with tightened security, lawmakers crowded into the parliamentary chamber determined to show that they would not be deterred. Ed Miliband, a former leader of the opposition Labour Party, said the mood had been one of “shock and determination and also admiration for the job that the security people are doing.”

“I think we are seeing people’s increased determination to carry on with their normal business,” he said.

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