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whumping-valentine · 3 days

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🦌 Fawn and Hunter - Part 10 🦌

"Anaira"

Content: Conspiracies, noncon kissing, feisty whumpee (but if you made it all the way to part 10 you already know that lol)

1,800 Words

Hey hey, It's part 10! We're a whole 1/3 of the way done! Who's ready to meet a new character? 👀

This chapter is a big turning point for the series, which will be fully in swing by part 14! I had to fistfight my writer's block to finish this, pls appreciate my efforts 🙏

Also! I just wanted to let y'all know that Fawn's real name is revealed in this part, and while it may be traditionally masculine, they are still ambiguous and you can picture them as whatever you want. As a genderqueer person who's name is Lillian and doesn't want to change it, I'm all about erasing gendered names and turning them neutral. Just wanted to put that out there. Thanks!

Enjoy! 🦇

Going into town wasn’t something Hunter enjoyed doing. They hated being around other people, not to mention it was quite a long journey to get out of the woods. Their foot was pressed hard against the gas, the old truck’s engine roaring loud as it struggled to keep up. At least the sound somewhat distracted the thoughts in their head.

Hunter didn’t have much experience driving, and especially didn’t have a license, but they knew enough to get them by. Besides, their driving skills were the least of their worries, their heart still beating from the adrenaline of nearly being what they could only assume to be a cult sacrifice. They tried to shake the thoughts away, but something like that isn’t just easily forgotten.

The snow fell through the quickly darkening sky, hitting against the windshield, swirling around it, almost dizzying. A blur. A whirling whirlpool. Hunter pulled into the first parking lot they saw, a gas station.

Outside the building stood a group of Christians, holding signs as they yelled about the upcoming rapture, yelling at the air to repent before it was too late. Not an uncommon sight to see in a small town like this, but usually it was in front of certain buildings and protesting gay people, or something. Also it was usually much earlier in the day, not at the brink of dusk in the middle of winter so close to Christmas.

What on Earth was going on? Yelling about the upcoming rapture is usually something done by old folks on facebook, not in real life. Still, Hunter gave the group nothing more than that simple passing thought as they entered the decrepit store.

The floors were made of lazily placed tiles, some missing, or mismatched. The lighting was yellow, buzzing, and some even blinking, barely holding on. A moth flew around them, flapping its tiny wings while a cockroach skittered across the floor. A nacho station stood in the open. Ahh, yes, the best gas station nachos around. To eat those you’d have to have a death wish. The air smelt more of musty mold than it did nacho cheese.

Hunter turned their head to a corkboard full of posters. Missing people's posters that Hunter was no stranger to. They took their time reading them, until one in particular caught their eye. One with a photo of Fawn.

MISSING

Rudolph Meyer

DOB: December 18th, 2003

19 years old

Height 5 feet 3 inches

Light brown hair

Green eyes

Glasses

Freckles

Rudolph was reported missing October 12th, 2023 by their coworker after repeatedly failing to turn up for work or answer calls. They could have gone missing days or weeks prior.

If you have any details on Rudolph's whereabouts or disappearance please contact the Woodmar Police Department at 110-100-1000.

Hunter looked at Fawn's phone again. They did have many missed calls from the same number. They must've missed it when snooping through it. Though they also noticed they picked the perfect day to wander into town.

Today was their birthday.

Hunter smiled to themself as they looked at the date. Without a care in the world they took the poster from the wall and folded it up into their coat pocket. They took a quick look around the store, walking down aisles. Looking at the drinks, they took a moment of contemplation before taking a bottle of alcohol.

They noticed there was only one other person in the whole store. The only employee, a tired looking woman with dark circles under the eyes, wearing a face mask. Hunter approached her.

“Hey.” They said.

“Hello. Can I help you with anything?”

“If you can answer some questions, yeah. Do you know anything about that one missing person? Rudolph? They went missing rather recently, it seems.”

"Yeah, little Rudy, as I called them." She said, "I was the one who reported them. It was very unlike them to miss a shift, and not answer calls. I hope they're okay, I know they didn't come here from a very good place."

“Sorry to hear that. It’s pretty scary.”

"Oh, tell me about it. Scary, stressful, and saddening. I’ve been a mess ever since they disappeared. A mess with worry, overworking, I don’t think I’ve had a single peaceful day of sleep. Even worse because I'm on the night shift, and little Rudy was working daylight. It was really only us two keeping this place up and running. Our boss has had to fill in for them. Poor woman's already busy enough as it is. Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m venting.”

“Hey, I’m the one who asked.” They dismissed the apology with a shrug, “What about those crazies out front?"

"Oh, yeah, those guys have been there for a while. Ever since those crop circles were found last week, people have been going nuts. I've seen folks walking around with tinfoil hats." She laughed. "It's probably just something in the drinking water. Or maybe just the nature of humans. They lose it so easily."

“They’ve been preaching about the rapture all week?”

"Oh, they've been preaching about everything. The zombie apocalypse, an alien invasion, a plague, vampires, werewolves, demons, UFOs, government conspiracies, the second coming of Christ. It's like everyone's gone completely looney."

Hunter wanted to agree and dismiss it, but they could only think about everything else that happened. Fawn's dreams, that cult in the woods, the giant skeleton… were they going crazy, too?

"Cold gettin’ to you?" She asked.

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve had quite a day.” They sighed, looked around, and placed the bottle on the counter, “I’m just here for the drink, I guess.” They flashed their ID and paid.

“Thanks,” They said, and turned to leave.

“Oh, and, uh, hey!” She called out as the front doors dinged, “Um… Let me know if you find anything out about Rudy, will you?”

Hunter paused in the doorway, the cold wind whipping in past their face. They turned and said, “I’ll be sure to let you know.” then left.

When Hunter returned home, it was pitch dark outside, they were gone all day. There was a pile of dust in the snow on the front porch. Going inside, Fawn was curled up, asleep on the couch with the broom resting against the wall. They walked over to them, and nudged them awake, nudging their shoulder. Fawn slowly blinked their eyes open.

"So," Hunter said, "were you going to tell me today was your 20th birthday, Rudolph?"

The use of their real name made Fawn's heart drop into their stomach, jolting them wide awake. "How- how do you know that?"

"I just so happened to find this while out in town today." They said, showing off the poster. "It seems your coworker is pretty worried about you. Anaira, was it? Very nice lady."

Fawn could only stare up at the poster with wide eyes as Hunter smirked down at them. The use of Anaira's name just made their heart drop even more. They had a conversation? She had no idea she was talking to their captor…

"It's a good thing I've got this poster. Afterall, I need to start building up my collection again after you destroyed it."

“So you wanna kidnap more people? I ain’t enough? You want more after me? What're you gonna do with me then, huh? Kill me? Let me go?” They antagonized.

“I think you think too much. Don’t read into it.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Thanks! I don’t try to be liked. Especially not by people who act like bratty teenagers. Though I suppose it's no wonder why you do, you still are one!"

"Not anymore. I'm 20. I'm not a teen, I'm not a kid, and I'm not being a brat. Why would I be anything but cynical to the person who's holding me captive?"

Hunter ignored the last part, "It doesn't matter if you're 20 years old or 200 years old. Act like a teen and you might as well be one, eh?" They picked up on the fact Fawn did not appreciate being infantilized in the slightest.

"I am not that young." Fawn mumbled, bitterly.

"Well, you're certainly younger than I thought you were. Can't even drink yet, how cute is that? It's too bad we can’t share this.” Hunter said, holding up the bottle.

"Oh, great, now you can smell like cigarettes AND alcohol."

“Mmm, you’ll go nose blind, eventually. I go through a lot to steal these cigarettes, you know? Of course you don't, you're too good, despite being such an unruly badmouth."

“What the hell do you want from me? Stop mocking me. I cleaned your stupid fucking house, I should at least get a thank you but ohhhh, no, I probably don't even deserve that, right?”

“You want a thank you? I can give you a thank you.”

Alarm bells immediately started going off in Fawn's head. They way they said it and their tone didn't sound too nice, almost more of a threat. Much to their dismay and horror, Hunter kissed them on the lips.

Fawn froze up and their eyes widened, then squeezed shut as Hunter held the kiss. When they pulled away, Fawn scrunched their face in disgust, wiping their lips with the back of their hand.

"Oh, relax, it's just a kiss.”

“A gross and dirty kiss from your gross and dirty lips is what it was! What the fuck! Blahk!” They continued wiping their lips, which now tasted like cigarettes, shaking their head and shivering in disgust.

"You'll survive." Hunter said, dismissing their revulsion, "But as for me, I've had quite the unfortunate day, and I need my sleep."

"Oh no, I don't give a shit."

Hunter didn't respond, simply they just picked them up by the back of their shirt collar and pulled them through the cabin. Fawn cursed, kicked, and hit but it didn't do anything at all. They entered the bedroom and Hunter threw Fawn onto the floor, holding them down with a knee on their back as they tied their hands together.

"I'm going to sleep. You're going to lay on the floor and shut your mouth."

"Fuck you and fuck your—! Mmph!" Fawn spat, getting a cloth shoved into their mouth, with another being tied around their head to secure it.

"There. Now stay quiet." Hunter threatened, pushing Fawn's face into the floor as they stood up, hitting their nose off the hardwood. Fawn let out a growl in response.

HERE'S A THOUGHT! IF YOU WANT QUIET YOU CAN JUST LET ME GO! PEACE AND QUIET, ALL ALONE FOREVER, EVERYBODY WINS!! Fawn screamed in their head as they fought the restraints, mumbled nonsense coming from their mouth.

As Fawn calmed down and was left to their thoughts, they didn't care that they had to sleep on the floor. They didn't care that they were treated like a pet. They only cared about how everything they fought so hard for was ruined.

They were going to celebrate their 20th birthday as a way to say that they managed to survive so long. That they finally escaped their childhood home. Now they were here, held captive, and back where they started.

And to make it all worse, they would now have to forever remember that as their first kiss.

You'll be seeing a lot more of Anaira in the near future, as well as a few more new characters! Lemme tell you, once chapter 14 hits this'll be like a completely different thing than what it started as. Shit's about to get crazy and hit the fan.

Also, surprise! This part has art attached. I was originally not gonna give them designs, and just leave them to the interpretation of the reader, but I'm slowly becoming attached to them and couldn't help myself. I just had to draw them! You can still picture them however you want.

Also I'm curious how old you think Hunter is? 🤔 the answer may surprise you (and Fawn, too).

Taglist: @parasitebunny @whumpy-wyrms @fruitypinapple00

If you want added or removed, lmk in the comments !

Thanks for reading ! 💕🦌

#fawn and hunter #whump #whump blog #whump community #whumpblr #whump writing #my writing #whump series

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white-boy-of-the-year · 5 months

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Do the mods have differing opinions on who will win? Do the mods have favorites that differ from who they think will win? I have so many questions from that last ask. Please tell me you have some kinda goofy lil competition going on.

Well I think I need to go in-depth on the history of this entire concept.

My friend and I are very silly and goofy in our dms. We take it upon ourselves to say the most out of pocket type shit imaginable. Here is an example when mod 🐛 accidentally spoiled the gomens 2 ending for herself.

N e ways, we come up with stupid fucking ideas. Like "straight sundays" and "how many jeff goldblum gifs can you send in a day" and "which of taylor's exes would I fistfight in a denny's parking lot". Weird shit. This poll was, for the most part, a joke which happened when we were trying to determine every white boy of the month. Problem was, there was some overlap on some iconic figures.

So we created a poll because we literally couldn't decide. I think there is a bit of secret competition, and there are definitely some *choices* on here that I would personally not campaign for.

Needless to say, we do have our opinions. I don't think my pick is going to win, but I'm pretty sure mod 🐛 knows who I want by the... uhm.... interesting messages I've been sending for the past couple months.

When the polling is done, we will reveal who our faves are. That's all I've got to say :)) - Mod 🌵

#wboty #white boy of the year #wboty asks

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rhys-rambles · 3 years

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FIGHT CLUB | 1999

I was introduced to the movie Fight Club around 3 years ago. It wasn’t until recently I’ve become interested in it. So here’s my Fight Club breakdown :) WARNING FOR SPOILERS!!

For those who don’t know, Fight Club is a cult favorite novel that was later adapted into a film released in 1999, directed by David Fincher. Starring Brad Pitt, Edward Norton, and Helena Bonham Carter.

The story of Fight Club revolves around three main characters. It’s told from a first-person perspective by a nameless character that’s commonly called ‘the narrator’, who has a dead-end white-collar job at a major car company and has fallen prey to what he calls the ‘Ikea-nesting instinct’. Dictated by social norms he walks perfectly in line like a docile sheep, which translates into an inauthentic, repetitive and empty life.

He suffers from a bad case of insomnia, which causes him to be neither fully awake, nor fully asleep. Sometimes, he entertains self-destructive thoughts: as he flies around from state to state for his job, he prays for a crash or mid-air collision every time the plane bankes too sharply on takeoff or landing.

During a flight, he meets an eccentric and hypermasculine character named Tyler Durden.

Tyler seems to be the direct opposite of the narrator. He’s a wolf rather than a sheep, disentangled from society, and impervious to social norms. He takes what he wants, without asking, and whenever he pleases. He’s self-sufficient, has no superiors, and doesn’t care about material possessions.

The movie later reveals that Tyler and the narrator are the same person, as Tyler is a product of the narrator’s imagination, that’s probably induced by severe insomnia combined with dissatisfaction with a dull, meaningless existence and a lifetime of repressed urges.

The narrator is addicted to going to support groups for specific illnesses because these give him the opportunity to cry, which seems to be a remedy for his insomnia. The downside of his behavior is that he isn’t genuine; he has no testicular cancer, or blood parasites, yet acts as if he does, so he can reap the benefits of these sessions.

But these benefits come to an end when another non-genuine visitor starts to join the sessions as well. This is a woman named Marla Singer, and her motive for joining these sessions is, and I quote: “It’s cheaper than a movie and there’s free coffee.”

Marla is a self-destructive, chain-smoking fatalist, who’s expecting to die at any moment, but finds it tragic that it never happens. She steals food and clothes for a living and attempts suicide by overdosing Xanax.

Even though the narrator, Tyler, and Marla are totally different personalities, they all live their lives accompanied by a nihilistic undercurrent.

Tyler seems to have figured out what causes this emptiness, and during the course of the story, his solution unfolds. Unfortunately, his character slides from a sage-like father figure to an anarchist terrorist, who’s out to destroy modern civilization. Nevertheless, he exposes a series of harsh realities about modern life that are worth contemplating.

Anti-consumerism

The anti-consumerist stance of Tyler Durden becomes obvious when he verbalizes his concern about the modern way of life. Shortly after the narrator meets Tyler, he discovers that his apartment went up in flames. After this unfortunate event, realizing that he has no friends to call, he calls Tyler. The two meet, and the narrator complains about losing his furniture, and his respectable and almost complete wardrobe. Tyler responds rather indifferently and slightly sarcastically before he begins to express his views on the matter. Quote:

“We’re consumers. We are by-products of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, crime, poverty, these things don’t concern me. What concerns me are celebrity magazines, television with 500 channels, some guy’s name on my underwear. Rogaine, Viagra, Olestra…”

It becomes clear that Tyler has quite an unconventional view of what’s good and bad. Murder, crime, and poverty are generally considered bad things, while consumer goods like televisions, clothing from a certain brand, products that help to hide aging, enhance bedroom performance, and help us with weight loss, are considered preferable.

Tyler has a contempt for the artificial, as opposed to elements that have been a natural part of the human condition, probably as long we exist. This way of thinking touches upon an ancient Cynic philosopher named Diogenes of Sinope, who believed that modern, civilized life hinders our natural state.

At the end of the movie, it appears that the narrator has destroyed his apartment himself when he was taken over by his alter ego, Tyler Durden. This deed was the first step onto the road of detachment from his property, into a more authentic way of life and to (how Tyler puts it): “reject the basic assumptions of civilization, especially the importance of material possessions.”

The narrator moves in with Tyler, who lives in a dilapidated house with ongoing leaks, power failures, and no Ikea furniture. Slowly but surely, the narrator indeed detaches from his previously destroyed property. “Things you own end up owning you,” Tyler tells him. And this simple piece of wisdom probably hits home, when the narrator realizes that he doesn’t need all these worldly goods, and is actually much happier without them.

Non-conformity

Tyler Durden is a non-conformist, and shows, again, similarities with Diogenes, who not only purposefully lived in poverty, but also rejected social norms. For him, social constructs are nothing more than a superficial layer of culture that represses our true nature.

Diogenes lived in a barrel, Tyler lives in an abandoned building. Diogenes urinated in public, Tyler urinates in the soup of a restaurant.

The narrator, on the other hand, seems to be the embodiment of conformity, as he adapts his lifestyle completely to societal expectations. The problem with this behavior is that we dedicate our existence walking the paths that people other than ourselves have laid out for us. This need to conform, the fear of falling by the wayside, this sickly preoccupation by what others think of us, this necessity to keep up with the Joneses: what an exhausting way of life, just to feel ‘accepted’.

So, what if we stop caring? What if we reject the generally accepted norms, and choose our own values, elect our own leaders, determine our own goals, regardless of the social expectations? This is a fundamental difference between the narrator and Tyler Durden, who puts it like this: “I am free in all the ways that you are not.”

Ironically, later on in the story, Project Mayhem, a terrorist organization led by Tyler that grows out of Fight Club, is a textbook example of conformity, as it’s members wear the same clothes, are absolutely equal, abolish their names, and are referred to as space monkeys that sacrifice their lives for a greater cause. We could say that by rejecting one doctrine in order to be ‘non-conformist’, we often imprison ourselves in another one.

Fighting and masculinity

Fighting and the experience of pain play a significant role in Fight Club. At the beginning of the story, Tyler asks the narrator to hit him as hard as he can. He explains his strange wish by saying: “How can you know yourself if you’ve never been in a fight? I don’t want to die without any scars.”

So, the narrator hits him. Tyler hits him back, and the two engage in a fistfight. Both seem to feel surprisingly pleasant afterward and decide to do it again. Their nightly activities on a parking lot attract the attention of other men, that are also interested in joining these non-hostile fistfights. And thus, Fight Club is born.

It’s widely known that voluntary exposure to certain forms of pain makes us stronger in the face of adversity, which could be a legit reason to partake in these fights. As the narrator states: “After fighting everything else in your life got the volume turned down.”

However, Fight Club is more than just a metaphor for dealing with hardship through exposure: a physical fight, and the violence and aggression that goes with it, resonates with the primal part of our being.

Not only the men in the story are attracted to the violence of fighting; Fight Club as a movie and novel was so impactful on its audience, that real-life Fight Clubs started to emerge.

The story shows an experiment in which the members of Fight Club pick fights with random strangers (and are supposed to lose), which isn’t as easy as it sounds; most people do everything to avoid physical conflict.

But Fight Club makes us wonder if it’s a good thing that we’ve lost touch with these primal tendencies. Should we repress this part of human nature? Or, perhaps, integrate it in healthy and constructive ways?

Self-destruction

When the story progresses, Tyler and the narrator begin to see the world through a different lens. Tyler criticizes the modern self-improvement hype by saying: “Self-improvement is masturbation. Now self-destruction… ”

This statement is slightly confusing, as the increasingly destructive nature of Fight Club, in which faces are permanently mutilated and teeth are knocked out of people’s heads, doesn’t seem to be a sustainable way to live.

But Tyler might be onto something when we look at self-destruction as the destruction of a false self.

‘Self-improvement’ often points to the accumulation of external goods: a better house, a better job, a better body, more money. But why should we endlessly want to improve ourselves? Why can’t we just be happy with how things are, and take life as it comes? Or as Tyler states:

“I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let’s evolve, let the chips fall where they may.”

We create an identity through material wealth, and social status. And as far as Tyler is concerned, this false sense of self must be destroyed, before we are free to do anything we want. Therefore, the ‘space monkeys’ of Project Mayhem live by a mantra which goes like this:

“You are not your job, you’re not how much money you have in the bank. You are not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You are not your fucking khakis. You are all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.” - Tyler Durden, Fight Club

Tyler makes a so-called human sacrifice, namely a man called Raymond who works a dead-end job in a convenience store. Raymond wanted to be a veterinarian, but didn’t make it because it was “too much studying.” Tyler threatens Raymond, saying that if he doesn’t start studying within six weeks, he’ll kill him.

In this scene, Tyler points to another aspect of self-destruction: the act of letting go of fears, negative self-talk, and all distractions, so we can fully focus on our purpose. It’s the destruction of everything within ourselves that holds us back from living life on our own terms.

A near-life experience

Many people go great lengths when it comes to pain avoidance. The problem is that running from pain means running from an inevitable part of life.

The prospect of incurring pain makes us anxious, and often leads to self-indulgent decisions. That is: choosing the less painful path, even if a more painful path guarantees more success and pleasure in the future.

Tyler Durden deals with this by inflicting a chemical wound on the narrator’s hand using lye.

As expected, the narrator does everything to escape the pain: he uses visualization techniques he learned at a seminar, and retreating in his cave to find his ‘power animal’. But Tyler slaps him in the face, forcing him to stay with the pain, saying: “This is the greatest moment of your life, man. And you’re off somewhere missing it.”

For the narrator, Tyler has one central goal: he must reach bottom. After putting him through suffering, and destroying his false identity, there’s yet another aspect that must be crushed: hope. Losing all hope is freedom. And, therefore, he must reject what has rejected him: his father, and God. I quote:

“Consider the possibility that God does not like you. In all probability, he hates you.” - Tyler Durden, Fight Club

Tyler states that we don’t need God. That we shouldn’t care about redemption and damnation. And if we’re God’s unwanted children, so be it. Thereby, we lose all hope, but are also liberated from religious doctrine and fatherly authority.

Now we’re truly free. Now we can create our own meaning, and live how we want to live.

Tyler emphasizes the importance of knowing what we want in life. To achieve this, we must be willing to get out of our comfort zone and jump into the unknown without safety brackets.

The narrator, however, has difficulties letting go of security. He begs Tyler to not mess around when he lets go of the steering wheel in a driving car while hitting the gas. Tyler calls the narrator ‘pathetic’, and yells: “hitting bottom isn’t a weekend retreat. It’s not a goddamn seminar. Stop trying to control everything and just let go!”

After an inevitable car crash, Tyler states that they just had a ‘near-life experience’.

Wrap up

Fight Club is a story about rebellion against the status quo and a plea for the simple life. It criticizes the ways in which we are so hung up on security, and material possessions, and how people let social norms dictate their lives.

‘Stuff’ has become our religion. The idols we worship are Ikea and Starbucks. And the more we immerse ourselves in such an empty and unfulfilling existence, the more we start to resemble the things that we produce: manufactured products rather than authentic human beings.

Tyler shows us a way out. And even though his insights are profound, the execution is questionable. Fight Club, and its terrorist branch Project Mayhem, show us how easy it is to oppose one ideology, in order to fall into another, and how a cult-like echo chamber built on rigid beliefs could become very destructive.

Nevertheless, Tyler challenges us to be self-sufficient and disobedient to the authorities that let us down, to live authentically and in the moment, to confront our fears, to boldly step out of our comfort zones, and let the things that don’t matter truly slide.

#fight club #tyler durden #the narrator #marla singer #fight club (1999)#i wrote this instead of sleeping #movie analysis

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anthonycrowley · 3 years

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this is a genuine question, but if the spnhater blog was part of a sociology project would it even be ethical to use the data gathered from it?

okay, i do actually feel qualified to answer this, because i was actually a soc major in college (and i would like to maybe eventually get my phd, although admittedly right now i am working a 9 to 5 where i don't really use that part of my degree) just please note that while i have done a couple of (minor) qualitative studies, i was always more into quantitative research, which doesn't have the same issues with consent that qualitative does.

would it be ethical? short answer: maybe. depends on what they were planning to do with it, mainly, and how the data was presented, and, depending on how long the 'study' goes on for, if you continue to keep your identity a secret.

long answer: i think the real question is whether or not the data would even be usable for sociology, actually.

for the couple of qualitative observations i've done, i find that consent can get a bit. murky. and when you think about it, it makes sense, and i don't think it's even really unethical - sometimes, sociological observations take place in big, open, public spaces. i've done an observation in a public park, once. two problems arise from this: 1. how could a researcher possibly get informed consent from every single person who happens to be in a public space, every time, and 2. if they did, that would inevitably change how people acted, rendering data useless. you want to see how people act in a situation. think about how you act when you know someone is watching you compared to when you're just doing whatever. it changes, right? in a discipline where you are studying a group and how they behave naturally, this knowledge will likely skew how people behave. you should get consent, when you can, but that's simply not always possible.

the main aspect of consent in sociology when it comes to observational studies is more geared toward anonymity of participants, to the point where someone cannot identify them later, and not outright lying about who you are. (informed consent comes more into play once you've already gotten some of your observational data and perhaps start interviewing people in the group you're observing - at that point you have to identify yourself as a researcher, say what the study is on, talk about how their identity will not be revealed, etc. and actually get consent from the participant). if you're doing a long term ethnographical study, yes, you will probably have to tell residents of the area why you're there - if i wasn't joking about observing people since november 5th, for example, that probably would have been an ethical dilemma in terms of, maybe, people i was following directly, because i would have gotten A Lot Of Data from people who didn't consent or know they were being observed, but if i went to my local grocery store and observed the meat counter for an hour, taking down notes about how people spoke and how they acted, i probably would need permission from the business, but not necessarily the individual people as long as i didn't identify them in any way that could be traced back to them.

the best way i can think of to explain what makes for problems in consent in observational data for sociology is a book from the 1960s called Tearoom Trade by Laud Humphreys, which if you're interested in knowing more about the modern day ethics of sociological research, is basically a manual on what not to do. Humphreys wanted to do research into 'tearooms,' which at the time were a slang term for men's bathrooms where men would meet up and have homosexual sex. problem number one with this is that, well, at the time he was married to a woman and was by all accounts heterosexual*, so he didn't actually have a way to get into these spaces to study participants. what he did was presented himself as a voyeur, so he was allowed entry, and would then observe how these men acted around each other.** that isn't really the main issue with the study though - the real ethical problem came later, because Humphreys would, under false pretenses, interview participants, and he would then record the participants' license plate numbers, find their home addresses, and interview their family members. i hope i don't have to explain to you why that's wrong for like, a bunch of reasons. but his actual observations weren't the problem in and of itself - it was the deception of who he was and the complete disregard of privacy for participants, whether they were a large part of the study conducted by Humphreys (ie a participant who was interviewed) or not.

anyway, circling back. really, the main way that blog (or frankly, any sociological researcher), would be breaching ethics when it comes to observing the tumblr community as a group is if they identified specific people, either through urls or through content. i would argue it may not be wise to directly quote a post, because google exists and the text will be online, but i think as long as you sit back, watch, and discuss what happens around you, you're good, at least until you get to the interview stage. maybe you could argue that if the blog was active for more than like, a couple of hours, they may have needed to get consent of people they were following, but other than that i think the observation aspect is pretty above board. the biggest ethical problem with that blog is more that the blog was deceptive in who they were, which is a problem, but hell, it's a public platform and who's to say the person running the blog doesn't enjoy supernatural? that they're a supernatural blog? i joked about how i was observing supernatural fans since november 5th, and i do enjoy supernatural. if it just went that far, if i just started a separate blog and just. observed for a short period of time, maybe reblogged a few gifsets so people didn't think i was a bot. would that be unethical? i'm not completely sure one way or another.

but i would argue that, if that blog actually were for a sociological study, even if we could determine it was 100% by the books ethical, the data gathered would be completely fucking useless - and for that matter, if i was telling the truth about studying people, that data would probably be largely useless as well. the reason is because both that blog and me actually impacted the community we were quote unquote researching. the blog is now a variable. obviously there is more than one blog, but would those specific people have said those specific things if that specific researcher wasn't there? in general, sociological studies don't have varibles in the same way as psych studies or scientific studies or whatever, because we're studying a group, not the effect a researcher has on a group by doing something the group would not otherwise have done. it's bad research. now, if someone not running the blog observed that, it would probably be fine, but that wasn't the implication. it would be like me sitting in a park and happening to witness a fistfight break out, rather than me doing something to cause the fistfight.

anyway, if it wasn't clear the person who runs that blog (who is not me) is not actually a researcher, and neither am i, currently. but if we were, we probably would have had to be a bit more sound, morally, but there are ways you can get data from an event like that without it being unethical if you don't get informed consent from everyone involved - but you probably would have to be very lucky when it comes to timing. but the person running the blog or their friend certainly could not be the people doing that research. hope that kind of answers the question, if people disagree feel free to discuss.

*this is worded as such because wikipedia just told me, interestingly, Humphreys came out as a gay man in the mid 70s , separated from his wife, and had a male partner from 1980 until his death in 1988. he actually later did a lot of research into gay communities - presumably now from the perspective of a gay man - but, frankly, i think his lasting impact in sociology is still unfortunately on ethics and protecting research participants.

**i suppose it's worth noting, probably because of the above asterisk, that i had heard (yes, before i had heard he came out as gay) that there are theories that the voyeur thing was a front and he was participating to gain entry into these spaces, which he obviously didn't want to disclose, because it was the 1960s and he was married. i only bring this up because, if this were the case, i'd argue that at least the deception to gain entry into the space is no longer really an ethical issue, although the study is still obviously riddled with problems.

#this is a novel also #tw homophobia discussion #kind of tearoom trade sure is A Book #fandom:spn

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tpnimagines · 3 years

Note

Ray would fistfight CloverWorks in a Denny's parking lot.

Is this supposed to be a request? I don’t know if it is, but I’m going to take it and write a nice little oneshot for this.

Because while I have been keeping up with the TPN anime, it is definitely very different from the manga... I don’t know how I feel about it to be honest. But here we go!

MANGA SPOILERS MANGA SPOILERS MANGA SPOILERS + SEASON 2 EPISODE 5 SPOILERS

~-~-~

A blue car pulled up to the Denny’s, it stopped in front of the door and a black-haired man stepped out.

“What are you doing this for again?” asked Emma, her hair was messier than usual since Ray had woken her up at 1 am to drive him to Denny’s. “Coffee? In which case we have that at home.”

Ray chuckled, “nah. You’ll see, park nearby we’ll probably need to make a run for it.”

“Wait wha-”

He closed the door and thumped on the window to signal her to park. He walked inside the Denny’s where a very tired employee stood at the front.

“Jeez man, whatcha here for?” Don asked, setting down a menu he had prepared.

Ray smacked down a few dollars on the counter, “I’m about to go beat up a bitch, get me a black coffee and leave it on the curb. Thanks.” He ignored Don’s questioning expression as he walked out.

He looked around, seeing a black van parked out next to Emma’s car. From the van stepped out a person that covered their head with a black hood... They walked up to Ray...

“A Denny’s..?”

“Why hello Cloverworks, so nice to finally meet you,” Ray greeted. “Yeah, a Denny’s, do you have an issue with that?”

“Well, I thought we would go deal with this issue somewhere more... private...” Cloverworks said, reaching underneath their hood to scratch at their head. “Whatever, we can make this work. So, Ray... Why are we here again?”

A small laugh emerged from Ray, “well you see... That episode today was fucking insane. Norman coming back after one year? I thought diverting away from the manga was a bit much but skipping an entire arc? Wow, didn’t know you could go that low...”

Cloverworks “tch”ed as they stared at Ray. “The fans wanted Norman, Ray! What did you think we could do-”

Before Cloverworks could finish, Ray swung his fist at Cloverworks’ face. Cloverworks fell backward, their hood falling off their head to reveal a head of black hair.

“Where is bunker dad!!!” Ray screamed, getting onto the ground to prevent Cloverworks from getting back up. “WHERE IS LUCAS?? HELP ME INSTEAD OF POACHERS? WHAT IS THAT BULLSHIT?”

The punches grew increasingly more violently as Ray screamed at Cloverworks.

“R-ray... You have to understand-” Cloverworks spoke between punches. “The manga is 181 chapters! We can’t animate all of that-”

“SHUSH, YOU COULD HAVE ANIMATED GOLDY POND!” Ray shouted, “WHY DIDN’T YOU?”

Cloverworks threw Ray off of them, standing up to throw a punch at Ray’s cheek, it hit dead center. Ray resumes a fighting stance as Cloverworks cracks their knuckles. “... You see Ray... We couldn’t do that...”

The two exchanged punches, Cloverworks gaining the upper hand. “Do you really think we could animate twelve-year-olds with guns? We would be sued for such violence involving children!”

That’s when Ray used his knee to kick Cloverworks below their chin, knocking them up and backgrounds. They regain their footing, but not until they feel the blood dribbling down their chin.

“I HAVE NEVER HEARD SO MUCH BULLSHIT IN MY LIFE,” Ray looks over to the curb where he sees a cup of warm coffee. Musta not noticed it when he was fighting. Ray walked over to the curb and picked up the cup of coffee, he took a huge gulp before walking over to Cloverworks.

“Ray, listen... We can talk about this!” Cloverworks said in terror, stepping away as Ray moved closer. “What do you want? We can bring in Yuugo! We can have them revisit the bunker! Hell, we’ll kill off Norman next episode if you want!”

He continued to sip at his coffee as he managed to back Cloverworks up to the side of their black van. He finished up his coffee, setting it down on the ground before smirking at Cloverworks.

“You know what you can do?” he asked, taking a strand of their black hair and twirling it around his finger. “Just give up.”

Ray dealt the final move, punching Cloverworks directly in the nose. They fell to the ground, holding their nose in pain.

“I’m sorry!” they whimpered. “You know what the real deal is..?”

Ray leaned down and gripped Cloverworks’ hair and pulled their head up.

“... fourteen-year-old Norman is too hot for our animating capabilities... We had to show him earlier in the show so that we had an excuse to animate him young... We knew it would disappoint everyone... But, he is just too... hot...”

Cloverworks’ hair was released as Ray stepped away, he paused for a moment. “Honestly? That’s fair, Norman is hot. Bring Yuugo back next episode, or I’ll finish you off for real next time...”

Ray made a peace sign as he walked over to Emma’s car, hopping into the passenger seat.

“What, what, that..?” Emma asked, staring wide-eyed at Ray.

“I don’t know, I’m tired lets go.”

Emma didn’t question him, and just started the car and drove off.

Cloverworks watched the car drive off, and they chuckled to themselves. Ray must have been too blind with rage to notice the one he was fighting was Yuugo himself. He coughed out some blood, wiping it away from his chin.

“What a punk... Fine... I’ll make my grand entrance next episode...”

YOU HEAR THAT CLOVERWORKS? YOU BETTER BRING BUNKER DAD BACK-

#the promised neverland #tpn #tpn season 2 #tpn manga #tpn ray #tpn emma #tpn norman #ray beats up Cloverworks at Denny's #cloverworks #imagines #tpn oneshot #tpn imagines

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365days365movies · 3 years

Text

May 10, 2021: Blade Runner 2049 (2017) (Recap: Part Two)

Said I’d talk about artificial humans in sci-fi, so...

There are a HELL of a lot of examples of artificial humans in science-fiction, as well as the ethical and philosophical concepts that their existence raises. Now, your definition of “artificial” may differ from medium to medium. At its base form, these are humans that are not born, but made. I’ll be talking fleshy organic humans, not robotic ones. The most common of these is, of course, clones.

A clone, strictly speaking, is a genetically identical copy of a pre-existing organism, in this case a human. While this isn’t technology we’ve applied to humans as of yet (due to the NUMEROUS ethical problems and questions), we have done so with animals, mostly sheep and cats. It’s actually a good way to de-extinct certain species, and we’ve already done experiments with that. Of course...that has its own concerns.

Keeping up the Jurassic Park reference streak! Anyway...

There are a FUCKTON of examples of clones in science-fiction, but since I’m a massive comic book nerd, I’ll use Superboy. The genetic combination of Superman and Lex Luthor, Conner Kent is one of the most prominent clone superheroes. He’s not the only clone of Superman, of course. He’s not even my favorite clone of Superman, to be honest...

Bizarro am the worst. ME WILL LIVE ON THAT HILL.

Oh, and let’s not forget THE most prominent artificial human in comic books PERIOD. I don’t care what her origin in the movies is, that’s never been my favorite version of Wonder Woman. Making her a demigod robs her of something important, in my opinion.

...Should I make a comic book blog? Shit, thinkin’ about it.

OK, before I do that, these are just my favorite examples. Fact is, there are FAR too many examples of artificial humans to go into, whether they’re built, grown, sculpted, conjured, or a chemical reaction with an extra ingredient in the concoction.

And look, I could go on all day about this, but we got a long-ass movie to get back to. SO, lets jump back in. Part One is here!

Recap (2/2)

Understandably exhausted, K returns home, confused and conflicted. However, he’s greeted with a surprise from Joi: a prostitute! Namely, this is Mariette (Mackenzie Davis), one of the girls who approached him earlier. Joi’s called her here in order to be “real” for K, the effect is impressive, if somewhat...off-putting. Still, while K obviously didn’t need this to be happy with their relationship, Joi might, and Mariette’s all on board.

And it doesn’t take K terrible long to get on board, either. As both Mariette and Joi strip, it makes me wonder...how much does this subscription service for Joi cost. There’s no goddamn way this is free, right? Like, how exclusive IS this AI? And they cut from that scene to a Joi commercial, where we hear that Joi becomes anything you want her to be, and does anything you want her to do. But something tells me that...well, that it’s not quite so simple.

Once the night is over, Joi tells Mariette to leave, and not nicely either. Mariette leaves, rebuking her on the way out as well. K, meanwhile, knows that the Blade Runners will soon be coming after him. He’ll be going on the run, and Joi wants to go with him. And so, they put her inside of a remote device, while deleting her information from the main apartment console. This gets the attention of Luv, who head over to the apartment to figure out what’s going on.

K goes to Doc Badger (Barkhad Adbi), who analyzes the horse for him. It’s discovered that old radiation can be found there, and that amount and kind of radiation can only be found in areas where a dirty bomb has been set off. This would be in the desolate and weird-ass ruins of Las Vegas. While nobody lives there at this point, K and Joi go to check it out.

An IMMENSELY frustrated Luv, unaware of K’s discovery about himself, goes to confront Joshi about K’s whereabouts. Luv berates her for being afraid of change, and tells her that she “can’t fend off the tide with a broom”. Which is a great line. However, as Joshi is no use to her at this point, Luv just straight up kills her. Which, I’m sure, will go over well with the whole “Replicants aren’t dangerous” thing.

Meanwhile, in Vegas...shit is WEIRD. First off all, the desolate wasteland is full of statues of giant sexy wimmin, and I mean GIANT statues. Beneath one of them is a series of beehives, which K goes into to get a hand of beeeees. After that, he goes into an abandoned hotel/casino, rigged with tripwires and booby traps. OK. What.

So, somebody’s using this place as a hideaway, despite the entire city being destroyed by a dirty bomb, and probably extremely radioactive. K searches around and finds it empty. He begins to play a piano, hoping to draw someone out. He ends up drawing out a dog, as well as the inhabitant of the hotel.

Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford), baby! Quoting Stevenson’s Treasure Island and holding K up at gunpoint with dog at side is the original Blade Runner himself, Rick Fucking Deckard. God, I love this. Deckard hunts K down throughout the casino, where we see some trippy holograms, and the future of Vegas stageshows (probably).

The two fight, but eventually call a truce and decide to get a drink at the bar. K gets to it pretty quickly, and confronts Deckard on his potential child with Rachael. He confirms that Rachael was indeed pregnant by him, but he had never met his child. Which was the plan, to be fair. He wanted their child to be protected, not hunted down and eventually dissected.

Sometimes, to love someone...you gotta be a stranger.

To an old Frank Sinatra song, a forlorn K (now calling himself “Joe”) looks around, and sees carved wooden animals that resemble the horse that’s haunted his life and memories so much by this point. Which makes sense, considering the foil unicorn from the previous film. Neat little tie-in there.

But paradise is not all it’s cracked up to be, as someone soon comes to find both K and Deckard, despite the fact that K came alone. Although, now that I think about it, Joi may not be one that you can truly trust. Deckard and K try to escape their pursuers, but are caught pretty quickly. In the process, K is injured, but manages to get up in order to fight back. However, this is Luv with these people, and she beats K down EASILY. Turns out that Luv is actually an enforcer, rather than just a secretary. And when Joi awakens from K’s device to ask her to stop, well...she kills the device, and she kills K. In the process, she also takes Deckard away, leaving K behind. Fuck.

K wakes up, only to discover Mariette standing over him in the Las Vegas wasteland. She takes care of him as he wakes up, also stitching up with wounds from the explosion. She tells K to trust her, as well as her compatriots. One of them is the hooded woman from earlier, a Replicant named Freysa (Hiam Abbass). An old friend of Sapper’s she saw the delivery of the child, the “miracle”, and also hid the child away, as it was a symbol that the Replicants are more than just slave, that they are their own masters.

Freysa is building a revolution in order to free the Replicants once and for all. And I’m hard-pressed to disagree with their cause, not gonna lie. However, this comes at a price. In order to prevent Wallace from killing the cause, K must prevent Deckard from leading them to Freysa. They must do what they can until they can reveal the child to the world. For she will be their leader.

Fuck.

Understandably COMPLETELY crushed at this revelation, and more confused than ever, K collapses. Freysa tells him that they ALL wish they were the one, and they all believe. It’s at this point, that K realizes exactly who the Hybrid is: Dr. Ana Stelline. The horse from earlier, it turns out, did in fact belong to her, and she planted her childhood memory with the horse in K’s mind as a Replicant. Damn. DAMN! That’s why the memory moved her so: because it was hers.

Meanwhile, Deckard awakens to a separate nightmare: Jared Leto telling him how he feels about him. After all, Deckard helped to create the first Replicant-human hybrid. He asks him for his help in obtaining the child, so that the key of Replicant reproduction can be further unlocked. And he proceeds in convincing Deckard by playing audio of Rachael and his first meeting (from the first film, of course).

Niander fucks with him further, by suggesting Deckard was summoned all those years ago specifically to fall in love with Rachael in order to father a child with her. But despite all of this, Deckard refuses to give up any of his information. And so, Niander pulls out his ace-in-the-hole...and it’s a real shitty thing to do to a man in mourning.

Damn. Dude rebuilt Rachael, tries to tempt Deckard with her, FAILS, then lets Luv shoot her in the head. Fucking power move, and fuck Niander for playing it. Dude is a DICK. Meanwhile. that one visual from every single ad of this movie is happening, and I can FINALLY use one of the 8000 GIFs of it, goddamn.

Not gonna lie, it’s an iconic appearance, so I get why it’s so famous. Anyway, K considers a suicidal option, now that he knows the truth. However, before we get to see the final decision, we get to see Deckard being taken back to LA for interrogation by Wallace. However, to prevent him from potentially leading Wallace to the secret of Ana Stelline, K suddenly appears, opening fire on their ship.

The craft is downed, and K exits the car to engage in a firefight with Luv. He appears to win, but Luv isn’t killed once she’s shot. The two have a fistfight out in the rain, and Deckard waits for water to slowly kill the craft that he’s still inside of.

As expected, Luv handles herself well, and despite a number of close calls, she JUST. WILL. NOT. DIE. Damn, she’s resilient. However, despite K, Luv, and Deckard all nearly drowning in an INTENSE fight between the Replicants, an enraged and crazed Luv finally eventually drowns, ending her threat for good.

K saves Deckard from the sinking ship, and agrees to stage his death, allowing him to meet his daughter for the first time. Once at her facility, K returns Deckard’s horse to him, knowing that it was a gift from him. He tells Deckard that his best memories all come from her, implying that this makes him similar to Deckard’s son, which he picks up on when he asks if he’s OK.

Deckard goes to meet his daughter, and K hangs out on the stairs outside. He feels the snow fall on his hand, and he just...watches it all fall around him. He sits, and he watches it all. And meanwhile, Deckard meets his daughter for the first time.

...Can I just say...GODDAMN!

That movie was absolutely stellar, and it’s definitely landing in the high ‘90s for me, calling it now. I...wow. Seriously. Amazing.

See you in the Review!

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trifoliate-undergrowth · 3 years

Text

Pacific Rim 3

I outline the plot of Pacific Rim 3 as experienced by me in a waking fever dream before and during today's 4am shift as a way to distract myself from real life stress with imaginary stress, written in breaks during work and in the parking lot before driving home because I'm going back to sleep when I get there and I want to preserve this fever dream first before I lose the details of it,

Ok I've been here for 3 hours and I don't know how to do a read more link on mobile I'm sorry you're getting this as is whether you want it or not I need to sleep goodbye

Dr. Gottlieb and Liwen are working on building their own portal to the Precursors to beat them up once and for all

Jake is seen giving an inspiring speech to a new wave of cadets who've been training with the old ones, now fully realized Jaeger pilots. Amara is everyone's favorite instructor.

Jake is very imposing and military and inspiring. Jake is everything the kids need him to be. Jake slips away from the party early and tears off his uniform before disappearing down a side street in his civilian clothes

Nate has the visible emotional human reaction of milk curdling and goes after him

Dr. Gottlieb and Liwen Shao are talking to someone about how they're making progress on the rift but they need help. Someone in particular who knows about alien tech. He's coming in on the next flight, actually. The person they're explaining this to gives a disbelieving "no..."

NEWTON

Wakes up in his house in the middle of fuckass nowhere. Somewhere away from technology he could theoretically use For Evil, or people he could theoretically hurt. This is, however, a self-imposed isolation, as he seems to have been granted his freedom, conditionally.

We see his morning routine, featuring normal stuff like making coffee, panic attack in the shower ft. indistinct memories of the Precursors, taking a massive dose of PPDC-granted experimental medication, starting the car, another indistinct alien trauma flashback, listening to the radio on the way to the airport where people appear to recognize him and he low-key has a panic attack because oh God everyone knows what I did

Jake leaves the bar and runs into Nate, who gives him the old Argh Argh Responsibility And Pride talk and Jake is like yeah man I know shut up

They have a fistfight in the rain and the neon lights in the alley outside the bar

No one properly wins because they've drifted so many times and they can predict each other's attacks but they both land a few and take a few, Jake gets hit a bit more because he's drunk

They both end up just sitting in the rain feeling sorry for themselves

Nate: Jules proposed to her girlfriend.

Jake: I know

Nate: they're getting married.

Jake: yeah that usually happens when someone proposes

So Jules wasn't going to end up with either of them and they're both sad about it. Nate suddenly suggests they go back in the bar. He'll buy Jake a drink to make up for beating him up. Jake is like ok sure but the drink's gonna be soda because I was LEAVING the bar because I was ALREADY drunk

They share a Soda Of Angst at the bar and talk about how they're gonna die alone. Jake says "at least we've got each other" and it's impossible to tell if he's joking. Nate is like "you know what this place isn't that bad we should come back sometime."

Newton reaches the lab. He is terrified of Liwen and awkward around Hermann. He instinctively calls Liwen "boss" and she reminds him matter-of-factly that they're working as equals now, "since you ruined my life's work."

Hermann asks how the medication is working and Newton indicates that it works fine but he still gets anxiety about it not being enough. Hermann promises him it's been proven effective, thus why the PPDC let him out of his crimes against humanity iron cell of shame. It's revealed that what they're giving him is a stronger dose of a medication originally developed for burned-out Jaeger pilots with unmanageable symptoms, and that it blocks out memories related to the drift--and since this is how the Precursors were reaching him, this works to block out their influence. The cost is that Newton doesn't remember much of anything past building his own neural bridge. He knows it happened but the details won't load. He's constantly worrying that it's not enough, that the Precursors will come back, and is taking a dangerously high dose that gives him constant hand tremors and worse insomnia than usual.

The first time he and Hermann are left alone they have an uncomfortable attempt at talking which gradually turns into an argument about nothing in particular. Newt keeps calling him Hermann but it sounds Wrong and Hermann hasn't been allowing people to just use his first name here and he finally snaps at Newton to stop it and he's like "oh my God I can't call you your NAME? what the hell am I supposed to call you??"

Newt says something angsty and Hermann says something like 'yes well the nicest thing that ever happened to me was drifting with a dead and decaying piece of kaiju viscera' and he says it sardonically but he's serious

Newt doesn't remember any context for the time they drifted.

Newt assumes he's being maliciously sarcastic and starts SCREAMING at him

Hermann just looks at him in shock at first then just lets him go for a little while

Eventually shutting his mouth by jabbing him under the chin with his cane and saying, very quietly and coldly, "get out of my lab"

Newton gets out of the lab

Newton runs into Nate and Jake at The Angst Bar and they recognize him but he has no idea who they are but he's willing to just roll with it at this point and asks them if they know Hermann well enough to give him advice

"like that was sarcasm right? I'm pretty sure he was making fun of me but now I'm less sure idk"

Nate's: no he's immune to sarcasm

Jake: yeah it's kinda funny

Nate: *the gaze*

Jake: I mean, nothing wrong with that, but yeah if he was being sarcastic that'd be first time it's happened as far as I can tell

Newt: are. Are you telling me. That someone actually. For some reason. Offered me a sincere compliment. And. I yelled at him

Jake: that's your call, I mean, you know him better than us, right? You guys were friends right?

Newton, who doesn't remember any of these people:

Nate: I mean I wasn't there, only way to tell is to go back and ask him

Newt: aaaaaaa

Newton goes back and Liwen is like "hey I've got no idea what's going on here but can you weirdos just act normal for two seconds so we can get some work done" and Hermann and Newt both just kinda. Laser focus on rift stuff

Remember the guy with the "no why would you involve Newton"reaction? No because he's but important and has no name or real identity? Yeah ok every Pacific Rim movie needs one Designated Douchebag to cause Interpersonal Drama and this guy is it. I'll call him DD for short

DD shows up and is like oh my God you actually turned Newton loose in the lab?? Why would you do this we're all going to die

Everyone just ignores him

Designated Douchebag has the self-importance of a high elf and the confidence of a fucking walnut and doesn't like being ignored

And starts talking directly to Newton, which really freaks Newton out but he continues pretending to ignore him

DD: so you're safe now? Not going to start speaking alien gibberish?

Newton: don't plan on it

Hermann, without turning around: DD you may not like to hear this but it was never your business who we brought in to assist, we don't need your permission, and complaining about Newton now that he's already here is certainly not going to do any good.

DD: alright fine but you'd better keep a close eye on him.

DD: anyways Newton tell your girlfriend I said hi

Newton, blank: who?

DD: you know, Alice?

Newton's face registers several emotions as he grapples with a name from the buried memories-confusion, disgust, terror-mostly shock

There is an abrupt cut

Liwen, thinking her two colleagues were acclimated to each other enough to allow her to leave the room and get tea without disaster, is walking back down the hallway talking with a lab tech when they hear the sound of something breaking

A moment later the doors to the lab are flung open and DD is forcibly ejected, collapsing on the floor in front of them. Dr. Gottlieb exits the lab behind him, holding his cane like a cricket bat. There is a muffled sound of Newton yelling OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING

Liwen backs out of range of cane damage and sips her tea, mildly intrigued. The lab tech starts to run for help and nearly crashes into Nate and Jake, who came running to see what the yelling was about.

Nate: what is--

Dr. Gottlieb, panting with restrained bloodlust: HELLO SIRS GOOD TO SEE YOU I BELIEVE THERE'S BEEN A SECURITY BREACH BECAUSE THIS FELLOW HAS JUST BEEN CASUALLY CHATTING ABOUT RESTRICTED CLASS-J49 INFORMATION PLEASE LOCK HIM UP

DD: it's COMMON KNOWLEDGE and he ATTACKED me

Dr. Gottlieb: YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID SIR!! *He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes some blood off the handle of his cane*

Nate: WHAT is happening

Newton: *trying to have a quiet hysterical laughter meltdown in the lab before anyone remembers he's there*

Anyways next plot point. An alien shows up

Not a Precursor! A nice alien

Listen if PR:U gets to pull all that bullshit with Mt Fuji I'm allowed to add aliens okay

Hermann should have a nice non-genocidal alien friend I think he deserves it

Anyways the alien is clearly a different species than the Precursors (or Kaiju) and seems friendly but they can't communicate with it, the linguistics team is working on it but it's going to take A Lot of Work

Hermann goes "hm I've got a quicker and more accurate option"and wheels out the drift interface

This alien's mind doesn't link well with human minds but Hermann is a pro and powers through

He gets seasick and throws up and finally comes out shaky with a bloody nose and eye but he's managed to communicate!

The alien is a diplomat from another world the Precursors attempted to colonize, they survived because the Precursors underestimated the humans' resilience and spread themselves too thin, trying to invade earth and the alien homeworld at the same time and then getting distracted dealing with the humans, which left the aliens time to prepare their defense

They're here to help with the war effort, they don't have a lot that's relevant to current human scientific understanding but they can help fill in some of the gaps in the human's knowledge about rifts

They're making progress! Yay!

Things are getting serious, training montage Jake and Nate and the new pilots getting ready to kick ass

Newton finally brings himself to apologize to Hermann and explain he was confused but the net progress here is still zero because then they immediately have ANOTHER argument

Hermann has started writing his notes in the alien's language, he wants to make sure he can remember it well enough to help the linguistics team, and it's also beautifully precise and he just loves it and loves that he's able to write it, come on who wouldn't be proud of being the first contact human

Newton sees a bunch of notes of Alien Gibberish (to him) and gets Bad Vibes

Newton doesn't think they can trust the alien, Hermann does but his proof is mainly "I can tell because I drifted with them" and Newton 1. Doesn't remember what that's like and 2. DOES remember that the last time he thought it was a good idea to drift with an alien he ended up nearly killing literally everyone on earth

They yell at each other some more

At some point Hermann tries to deescalate and asks why they can't be friends again and Newton, still yelling, says "people keep acting like we're friends and I don't remember it! As far as I'm concerned this is all we ever had! I barely remember you at all and what I do remember is that we hated each other!"

Hermann: ....I never hated you. .. alright, colleagues, then? We've got a rift to build

Newton, still hyperventilating slightly: ok ok yeah sure yeah

Interlude: Jules gets married!

She asks Hermann to walk her down the aisle (where she meets her wife, who walked down the opposite aisle to meet in the middle)

Newton, protesting "I don't know I don't feel like I should be here," is physically dragged into the venue by Liwen, who is telling him that this is a diplomatic event it's his duty to be at.

She drags him over to Hermann and settles between them, soaking in the chaotic gay science panic vibes

She seems to be enjoying herself

Jules sees Hermann in the audience and an evil gleam comes into her eye

She has a strong arm

She hurls her bouquet directly at his face

Hermann ducks, panic granting him lightning quick reflexes

The bouquet, travelling at about Mach 5, zooms past him and hits Jake Pentecost squarely in the nose

He inhales several petals of baby's breath and gets slapped in the eyelid by a vine and goes into a dramatic coughing fit. Nate pounds him on the back.

Alien, speaking through a translating device they've got set up (it isn't perfect but it works on a basic level mostly): is it bad luck to touch the flowers?

Hermann, still slightly panicked from the near miss: no it's ahh, there's this silly tradition that whoever catches the bouquet is likely to get married next, and ah, as you see there, sometimes a bride with a sense of humor will, err, intentionally aim it at someone who, uh, didn't necessarily want it?

Alien: I think I understand. My sibling often tells me to go the southern hills of ^°^=^^°^°^^°°= to find a mate, though I have told them many times that I have no such desire.

Nate and Jake are like "ok neither of us have a date I guess we're drinking our sorrows away together at the reception" and do that

And maybe make out a little bit

Neither of them is ready to deal with Feelings so they both just blame it on the alcohol and try not to think about it too hard

Newton, venting @ someone, explains that there's an empty space in his memory where he knows that that something about Hermann is supposed to go and it doesn't feel like the other, worse memories he's blocked out, it feels like he lost something precious, but he has no idea what that is

Hermann tells Newton he's been working on a device that might block out the Precursors' influence without affecting his memory, so he can use all of his knowledge. And so he isn't constantly so confused about who he does and doesn't know but he doesn't say that part

It connects to his skin a bit like a drift interface

Newton is terrified but enthusiastic about maybe being Less Confused All the Time

The fact that he is guarded by a full security detail to make sure he doesn't Become Evil Again the whole time he's going off his meds really doesn't help the stress much

Memories start coming back but they're confused and jumbled and at first he's not much better off

The Precursor nightmares are about what he expected but he keeps hearing Hermann's voice in there too and he's not sure why and he can't remember when he heard it like that

Meanwhile Hermann keeps needing to drift with the alien to clarify important details about the rift that they don't know how to translate into human terms, but it fucks him up a little bit more each time he does it until the last time he passes out for like at hour and wakes up disoriented with a nosebleed that just won't stop and Jake orders him to stop drifting

He's ok with that because they've got the information they needed anyway!

IT'S TIME, THEY'RE SENDING THE JAEGERS INTO THE RIFT

Newton, despite his misgivings, reluctantly joins Liwen, dr. Gottlieb and the alien in command to supervise the mission, still wearing the device and getting random bursts of confused memory

Jake and Nate are piloting the Lady Avenger (did u know gypsy is a slur and they prefer to be called Romani) and go though first and start punching Precursors and their bodyguard Kaiju

Newton goes very still and just stares at Hermann for like a solid minute while he's trying to work, his expression shifting to something new

Hermann, softly: what?

Newton, smiling: I remember you.

Hermann, furiously trying to interpret alien data: is this really the best time??

It's a close fight across the rift, the Precursors are on their home turf and the Jaegers are not, fighting in a bizarre low-gravity environment that doesn't really have floors

Their base is set up differently than expected and Hermann decides he needs to check something with the alien. By drifting with them. He's still bleeding uncontrollably after the last stunt that got him banned but he's determined to do it because It's Necessary

Newton takes the headset from him and puts it on instead

It feels Bad

But then he sees another planet, beautiful, so different from his own yet so similar. He sees aliens attacked by monsters from the deep, responding more or less how the humans had, moving inland, building useless walls, building their own monsters for defense. He sees the alien diplomat losing friends and family.

He sees the journey to earth, and drifting with Hermann. He sees the alien's memories of Hermann, and Hermann's memories in the drift. He sees how Hermann remembers him. What he forgot. What the Precursors had blinded him to.

He doesn't have time to think about it because he's feverishly trying to translate the knowledge he's receiving into data that works with their human technology so they can help the Jaegers and there's blood dripping from his face onto the controls but it's there, in the back of his mind, he knows now. Hermann missed him.

The Lady Avenger is hit and Jake is knocked unconscious. They begin to drift downwards as Nate, unable to move the Jaeger alone, yells at Jake with no response

Newton disconnects from the drift, nearly blacks out, and has to sit down for a minute. When he comes back around he sees the Jaegers are in trouble--none completely disabled yet, but they need more help

Newton has an idea

Newton: ok I'm gonna do something stupid. *To his security detail* listen I need you to aim your guns at me and shoot if you think I'm out of control

Liwen, with zero hesitation, reacting quicker than anyone else in the room, pulls out a gun and sticks it right in his face

Newton: see, yeah, that's what I was saying, like that. Thanks boss, glad someone here's got guts.

Liwen: not your boss

Newton: I kinda like saying it tho

Liwen: hm. I'll allow it.

Newton: ok. Hermann--uh

Hermann, hearing his name said right this time: it's ok

Newton: :) ok cool I'm going to deactivate the blocking device I need you to turn it back on as soon as I squeeze your hand, can you do that

Hermann: absolutely.

The Precursors are a hive mind. In battle, when pressed, they can force their thoughts outwards, confusing and scrambling the communications of other species while keeping in contact with each other. This is going well and normal until there's an unexpected distortion which resolves into Newton's voice

Yelling WHAT'S UP MOTHERFUCKERS I'M BACK

(epic Tom Morello riff)

Newton can't keep the connection open for more than a few seconds before they start to overwhelm him, Hermann pulls him back. It was enough to confuse the Precursors and give the jaegers an advantage.

During the delay, Jake wakes up. He's disoriented and in pain and so is Nate, still linked to him, but they can move again. They one-hit-k/o the Precursor that was creeping up on them, turn around, and realize they've drifted almost right into the reactor they've been looking for

So they blow it up

Hermann is still holding Newton's hand as everyone else celebrates. He looks at Newton for confirmation, who nods in relief.

"they're gone. Well, those ones are, anyway."

Humans start opening rifts across the galaxy to kick Precursor ass across multiple star systems

(epic Tom Morello riff intensifies)

Humans team up with multiple alien races previously menaced by the Precursors to take out their common enemy. Jaeger tech is combined with alien science, humans and aliens drifting

They figure out how to use a recording of Newton's Precursor-influenced brainwaves as a weapon to confuse them

So basically Newton makes a recording of himself screaming at the Precursors that's weaponized by teams across the galaxy and it's incredibly cathartic

Jake, in a hospital, is woken up by an infuriating snoring noise. Nate is sleeping in a chair by his bed. He's both annoyed and touched. Mostly the latter.

Hermann writes a book in what is now his third language, the alien script precise and beautiful

We see Newton and Hermann getting dressed together for an Important Event, they're both complaining about having to go but seem not to mind too much. Newton ties his tie too loose, like in the good old days. Hermann fixes it for him.

No one died

The free peoples of the galaxy took down the Precursors with no casualties and the power of screaming

#personal (ok to rb)#pacific rim #what to tag as #headcanons #fanfiction #sorta #humor #extended fever dream that wouldn't let me rest #EVERYONE'S GAY AND NO ONE DIED

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itsjustdg · 3 years

Text

First 20

Tagged by @disappearinginq

Guidelines: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all), choose your favorite opening line, and tag some friends!

If you’d asked me to do this a couple of years ago, I’d have more variety, but my fanfic-writing life lately has mostly been the Magnum P.I. reboot. lol Not that I don’t have and love other fandoms, but for some reason, my creative-energy-starved brain has fixated heavily on this one show for a while. (I mean, hey, at least I’m writing! But it’s not with the variety that I did at one point.)

Pulling these lines for this post, I realized I don’t always nail the “make your opening line a great hook” aspect of writing a story. (Also, I went through a phase when I was flat out of creative inspiration last year where I tried to write for the sake of just writing, which means I’m not a huge fan of some of these stories. *shrug*)

1. Dance With the Devil (Magnum P.I.)

It was another bright, sunny afternoon in Honolulu.

2. Psychics Are People, Two (Psych)

Hello, everyone!

3. Whumptober 2020 - 30 - Wound Reveal (Magnum P.I.)

"Seriously, Magnum?"

4. Whumptober 2020 - 22 - Drugged (Magnum P.I.)

"Have either of you gotten any threats recently?"

5. Whumptober 2020 - 21 - I Don't Feel So Well (Magnum P.I.)

The angle of his arms behind him wrenched at his shoulders as he knelt, but that discomfort was nothing compared to the feeling of his empty gut wringing itself inside out.

6. Whumptober 2020 - 05 - Failed Escape (Magnum P.I.)

Being kidnapped at gunpoint and forced out into the middle of the ocean to find the wreck of the Rosalita once was more than enough for Magnum.

7. Whumptober 2020 - 02 - In the Hands of the Enemy (Magnum P.I.)

"You really thought you could pull one over on us?"

8. Whumptober 2020 - 01 - Shackled (Magnum P.I.)

"I've held up my end of the deal. Now, where is my partner?"

9. Fighting For Family (Magnum P.I.)

"Are you guys almost done?" Rick asked, walking over to join his friends in the dining room of La Mariana.

10. Plan M (The Brave)

(I’m cheating with this one a little because the first line isn’t exactly an “opening line” of dialogue.)

NORTHERN MEXICO

WEDNESDAY, 07 NOVEMBER 2018

1443 HOURS, LOCAL

"You thought you could just come in here and undermine our operation without us knowing?"

11. Say Goodbye to Your Past (Magnum P.I.)

The music from La Mariana spilled out into the night air as Magnum pushed the door open and headed toward the parking lot.

12. A Crack in the Ice (Magnum P.I.)

It was the calm before the storm.

13. Of Dinner Dates and Fistfights (Magnum P.I.)

Rick's day was going great. Beyond great, actually.

14. Wide Awake (Magnum P.I.)

When the power was finally restored, Rick was more than a little relieved.

15. Kumu's Got a Gun (Magnum P.I.)

"Whoa, hold on there, guys!" Magnum jumped between the gunmen and Kumu, hands raised placatingly. "Let's not do anything crazy, okay?"

16. Desperate Times (Magnum P.I.)

Smoke.

17. Home For Christmas (Magnum P.I.)

"I still can't believe you're friends with the Ed Wells," Rick said, shaking his head as he passed Higgins a glass across the table.

18. I Got You, Brother (Magnum P.I.)

Rick yawned as he closed and locked the office safe.

19. Sleeping With Dinosaurs (Magnum P.I.)

It had been exactly one day since Magnum had been allowed to go home from the hospital on the strict orders that he stay in bed or on the couch.

20. Rocky Ground (Magnum P.I.)

The quiet, peaceful sound of birdsong met him as he came to.

Hmm not sure which of these would be my fave... probably between “Shackled,” “Kumu’s Got a Gun,” and “Failed Escape” if I had to pick.

Tagging... anyone who wants to play since I think a lot of authors I’m connected to on here have already been tagged in a round of this game. lol And if you’ve been tagged by someone else and haven’t played yet, here’s another invite. 😉

#fanfic #writing #first lines #tag games #magnum pi #magnum pi 2018 #the brave #psych

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crashingmeteorz · 4 years

Text

me and the ash can’t settle down ch. 2

lu ten goes on his first hunt, and his past comes back to haunt him.

read ch.1 here. word count: 5.8k. read on ao3.

trigger warnings for: death, violence, ptsd

"Tell me, Bǎi. What do you know about bounty hunting?"

The short answer is, not much.

Kōji is pleased with Lu Ten’s physical ability - Lu Ten has no intention of revealing his firebending, of course. Kōji may be unusually accepting, but theoretically housing an enemy is much easier when you don’t have the physical proof of their past in front of you.

So Lu Ten sticks to hand-to-hand combat and sword fighting. Of course, trying to beat Kōji in a fistfight is like trying to knock down a rock wall with your bare hands. Lu Ten tries to use his agility to his advantage, but it becomes clear very quickly that Kōji fights dirty. He bests Lu Ten at every turn, and what’s worse, it’s obvious the older man is holding back.

“These people we’re dealing with,” says Kōji in his rough voice, “they’re not gonna show you mercy so don’t you show them any, got it?”

Lu Ten listens to his new teacher and tries to forget the rigid rules he’d spent his whole life abiding by. It’s surprisingly easy to let go of the concept of fairness, and when Kōji stumbles for just a moment, Lu Ten punches him square in the face.

“Shit,” Lu Ten says panicking as blood pours out of Kōji’s nose. “Shit, shit, shit.” Kōji tries to stem the flow with one hand, which is growing redder by the second, and waves at Lu Ten nonchalantly with the other.

“You did what I asked,” says Kōji, the blood-flow making him sound congested. “Think you might’ve broke my nose though...”

Lu Ten procures a rag and hands it to Kōji, but the floor is already a blood-splattered mess. He can’t help but think that if he had been firebending and slipped up like that, Kōji would be dead.

Kōji pulls up a chair and sits with his newly crooked nose, courtesy of Lu Ten’s fist, and tells Lu Ten to show him what weapons he’s familiar with, to Lu Ten’s extreme relief. None of Kōji’s small arsenal of weapons is state of the art, every single one accompanied by scratches and dents, but there’s at least one katana in the mix. He inspects the blade carefully - it’s nowhere near the quality of the one he made with Piandao, but that was left at home in the palace. A thought arises unbidden: will his father include the katana in his memorial? Lu Ten closes his eyes tightly, so that it hurts, and then holds the blade steady.

He practices his forms blindly, never once opening his eyes as he dances around the room with the battered old katana. Suddenly he’s eight, practicing with some weapons he stole off the palace guards, his father laughing merrily as he lunges with the clumsiness of a child. Now he’s 14, and Piandao is patiently correcting his forms, demanding more but never implying Lu Ten is not enough. Now he’s 16 and his cousins are begging him to firebend at them, but they’re far too little, so he says conspiratorially, “what about a sword fight?” Now he’s 18 and killing one of his fellowmen-

“At least you can use that thing,” Kōji chuckles, and Lu Ten is grateful for the interruption from his thoughts. “You’re a piss-poor street fighter.”

“And you’re a fucking mountain,” Lu Ten retorts, setting the blade down gently. “How the hell am I supposed to get the jump on you?”

“There’s no weight classes in bounty hunting,” says Kōji, wagging his finger like a school teacher, upper lip still stained a bright red. Lu Ten finds a new rag and pours some water over it this time, tossing it to Kōji.

“I thought we’re not supposed to kill these guys?” Lu Ten asks curiously. Kōji had tried to explain his profession, but it had mostly resulted in a series of tangents and old stories about the job. Any important details Lu Ten had gleaned came exclusively from context clues.

“We’re not,” was Kōji’s reply, giving Lu Ten a look that seems to imply he’s said the stupidest thing Kōji’s ever heard. “But you need to be able to defend yourself. You know how to disarm, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Lu Ten replies tersely, looking for a sheath that might fit the sword. Piandao had taught him to disarm, obviously, but he had also said that the katana was a weapon of death. At the time, Lu Ten had hardly listened, too appreciative of the thin, curved design of the blade to really care for its purpose. Now it seemed Lu Ten had always been destined for violence.

“Good,” Kōji says gruffly, but his eyes are alight with excitement, “because I have a tip for us to follow, and we don’t have time for you to sit around all day figuring it out.”

The rules of the hunt are both straightforward and murky, if Lu Ten has understood anything from Kōji’s reminiscences. You track the target, capture them alive, and hand them over to the paying party, but you can work out a deal if things got messy. You don’t encroach on someone else’s territory, unless the bounty’s extraordinarily high. You always follow through and refuse to be bought, unless the offer is good. You never kill a target, unless it’s the only option. When he asks Kōji how to make the call on these flip-flopping rules Kōji brushes him off.

“Comes with practice,” he says, unconcerned. “Eventually you’ll learn to trust your gut.”

The man they’re after is, according to Kōji, your average lowlife. He started off small-time, scamming elderly couples and widows with too many children and not enough food.

“Now he’s gone to flat-out stealing, but he hit up the wrong guy,” Kōji tells him through a mouthful of rice that evening. “Rich kid like you. Influential family. The spoiled brat tried to fight, and he barely survived.”

Kōji suddenly and meaningfully points his chopsticks at Lu Ten.

“Don’t let the same thing happen to you, ‘cause I’m not hauling your sorry ass all the way back here again.”

“Again?” Lu Ten asks suspiciously. “I thought you said I showed up practically on your doorstep?”

Kōji grumbles something practically unintelligible about a couple of bodies in the valley below and practically shoves his face in his dinner. Kōji may put on a callous front, but Lu Ten doesn’t believe it for a second.

“Point is,” Kōji says after finishing his meal, “the rich kid comes from a rich family. Minor nobles, or something. We bring them this guy, they reward us with gold.”

“How much?” Lu Ten asks, not necessarily out of greed as much as curiosity. How much is a son’s life worth around here? How much is his attacker’s?

“That’s usually negotiable upon delivery,” is the only answer Kōji seems willing to give. “We leave at dawn, so get some rest.”

“What, that quick?” Lu Ten asks in surprise, rising from his seat. “We’re just going to leave without a plan? Do we even know where he is?”

In response, Kōji tosses a rolled-up sheet of parchment at him. Lu Ten unfurls it to reveal a wanted poster, and a note scrawled at the bottom that reads “Lower Mùchéng - Frogman”.

“Who the hell is Frogman?” Lu Ten asks.

“My informant, for this job anyway,” Kōji explains as he gets ready for bed. “You find something to keep that sword in? It’s not exactly a stroll in the park to Mùchéng, so we gotta leave early.”

Since that is apparently all the information he’s getting, Lu Ten sighs and mimics Kōji, climbing into the warm bed.

“You always have this laid out for unexpected guests?” Lu Ten asks after a while. On the rare occasion he’d had to intrude on someone’s home, they’d usually just roll out a mat or futon. Kōji, while comfortable, didn’t seem to live the most luxurious life, to provide such a thing for strange guests.

“Go to sleep,” Kōji grunts, turning over in his own bed. Just as well. Every man deserves his share of secrets.

He wakes up before the sun rises. Kōji is still snoring (and hell if Kōji isn’t a loud snorer), so Lu Ten splashes his face with water and dresses. It feels like a strangely serious moment, dusk making everything outside seem muted and foreign. Lu Ten was always an early riser, preferring the warmth of the sun to the cool of the night, but then, most firebenders are like him. As he slips the sheath he found, just a touch too big, beneath his belt, he feels for a moment the same as he did the morning he shipped out for the Earth Kingdom. He was still just shy of 18, then, and his father’s most recent letter had been clutched in his hand, creased from the way his fingers pressed into it.

“My dear son,” the general had written, “I challenge you to find a father who has ever been prouder than I am of you. Let me meet this man, and show him my son, and see if he still feels so certain.”

Kōji snorts loudly, and when Lu Ten looks over the older man is rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Someone’s eager to get going,” he grumbles, and Lu Ten wonders if Kōji’s ever happy. He tells the older man he'll be waiting, and when he steps outside the sun is just beginning to rise. Lu Ten hasn’t ventured beyond the garden since he arrived, and his heart sounds loudly against his ribcage as inhales the smell of the world around them. Something childish inside him whispers “adventure”, tickling his ears and pulling at his lips to form a smile. It’s terrifying. It’s invigorating.

Kōji joins him a few minutes later, a large weapon in hand.

"Is that a mace?" Lu Ten asks in disbelief.

“Mùchéng is that way,” is Kōji's reply, pointing towards the northern mountains, and he sounds more alive now than Lu Ten’s ever heard him. “The city is built practically on stilts. Lots of good hiding places, but I have an idea of where to look. Don’t be too obvious about it now.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lu Ten says easily, the contagious energy zipping through him like electricity. “You’re the one who sticks out like a sore thumb, colossus.”

Kōji laughs, loud and long and hearty, and Lu Ten has to fight the urge to suggest they race to a nearby yew tree, his giddy excitement is that strong.

“Okay, shrimpy,” Kōji rumbles, knocking his boots against each other to rid them of mud. “If you’re so slick, think you can beat me to that tree there?”

Lu Ten grins.

“You’re on, old man,” he retorts, but when Lu Ten steps out to run Kōji sticks his foot out, tripping him so that he falls face-first in the dirt. Kōji laughs uproariously the entire (slow, in Lu Ten’s opinion) run to the yew tree, yelling something about payback for a broken nose. Lu Ten can’t even be upset, as he hauls himself to his feet and jogs to catch up with Kōji. It feels good to have fun again.

They reach the mountain town by mid-afternoon, or Kōji says they do, anyway. All Lu Ten can see is a rocky path and a drop-off point. Kōji smirks at his confusion, raps a quick rhythm on the mountain, and then there is a loud creak followed by a descending platform. Kōji and Lu Ten step on and are slowly lifted into the air by a series of pulleys and ropes. When they reach the top, they are surrounded by a city made entirely of wood. Wooden planks and paths lead the way inward, wooden beams support the platforms and building, wooden stores and homes sit up and down on the mountainside.

“It’s all wood,” Lu Ten says, trying not to let his nerves show. He suddenly feels like a gemsbok bull in a pottery shop. This whole place is a fire hazard.

“Weren’t you listening?” asks Kōji, leading the way into town. “Mùchéng is a refugee city, or it used to be anyway. People came here and built this town to hide from the Fire Nation. When their villages were raided, most of their benders were taken, so this is what they had to work with.”

“You never said any of that, Kōji,” Lu Ten says irritably, unable to stop himself from tiptoeing. “Besides, of all the materials to build your secret city out of -“

“I know, I know, one big cookout,” Kōji agrees. “But it’s well-hidden.”

“So were the airbenders,” mutters Lu Ten, but Kōji either doesn’t hear the comment or just ignores it.

Lu Ten finds himself sticking close to Kōji as they make their way along the planks, like a small child afraid to stray from their parent's side the first time away from home. In any city there are varieties of people, but Mùchéng has a distinctly disjointed feel to it. In this corner, there are children playing under the watchful eye of their parents. Under a nearby archway, a young woman cries as she writes a letter to a loved one far away. The very next ramp drops down to reveal a group of shady characters discussing something fervently. Every single person seems like they don't belong here, but it's clear from the suspicious glances that Kōji and Lu Ten belong here the least.

To match the sinking feeling in Lu Ten's chest, Kōji leads them down the ramp near the probable-criminals. The narrow path is so tight they have to mumble excuse me's as they pass, and the politeness only seems to lower their credibility. They travel deeper, edging along what can only be a crevasse located within the mountain. Lu Ten practically falls into the black abyss but Kōji's arm shoots out to keep him firmly on the ground. The older man points down to a rope ladder, which seems to be the only way in or out of the hole.

"Popular hideout down there," says Kōji, gazing downwards. Lu Ten's never had a fear of heights, but something about the situation makes his stomach turn.

"We'd be pretty screwed if we ran into trouble down there," Lu Ten says, swallowing a knot that's been building in his throat. What is wrong with him?

"Yep," is all Kōji has to say. "You ready?"

Lu Ten lays a hand, lightly, over his katana, and nods sharply. It's clear now that any ideas about this being a straightforward job have gone out the window - and Kōji trusts him anyway. He's not about to back out now. In a moment of courage, Lu Ten descends the ladder first. When a strong breeze causes the old rope to swing this way and that, however, he regrets his decision.

Whatever Kōji's reward negotiation skills are, they better make this trip worth it.

It turns out to be an average bar, once you ignore the fact that it's buried so deep within a mountain wolfbats hang sleeping from its rafters. Kōji sits at the bar with practiced confidence, and Lu Ten wonders if it's just from frequenting places like this, or if Kōji's been to this bar in particular a few times. When Lu Ten sits beside him, however, Kōji rolls his head, twisting his neck left and right a few times, and the tension in his muscles seems to indicate he's not comfortable here.

"We're looking for a skinny guy, probably pretty arrogant. He's got a two-headed rat viper tattoo on his right shoulder," Kōji murmurs. "He may be a small fry, but he's lethal. I'm practically a stranger here, and he's not, so he's got the home-field advantage, too."

"Knowing this stuff upfront might have helped," Lu Ten hisses before taking a swig of whatever Kōji had ordered for them. His stomach is still nauseous, and his throat feels dry for some reason. The burning liquid doesn’t seem to help.

"You're shaking like a leaf as it is, didn't need any more stress," Kōji whispers back.

"I'm not-" Lu Ten begins to reply indignantly, but he's interrupted by a fight breaking out in a back corner. A pair of young men, a little older than Lu Ten, are arguing loudly about money. Everyone in the bar pays attention, and fast, the familiar sounds of drawn weapons ringing out around them. One man gives the other a shove, and that's all the patrons need to start an all-out brawl.

"Shit," says Lu Ten, ducking to avoid an errant swing from his neighbor at the bar. The bartender hit the floor the moment his customers started swinging, and now he, Lu Ten, and Kōji are the only ones not actively fighting. "What do we do now?"

"We stay right here and find our guy," Kōji says gruffly, before promptly smashing a bottle over the head of a man who had tried to engage him in a scuffle. "The fight started right after we showed up. Someone must have recognized me and needed to create a diversion. Come on."

Kōji pushes away from his seat and heads towards the back of the bar, navigating his way through the flying fists and falling bodies. Lu Ten has to cough a couple of times as he follows, his throat feeling tighter than before, probably because of all the dust the crowd is kicking up.

"Won't he leave through the front?" Lu Ten whisper-shouts in the chaos.

"I've been here once before, years ago," Kōji replies. "There's an exit out back. I'm willing to bet we can cut him off from there."

Lu Ten coughs again and follows, relieved to be getting away from the mess of the bar. They get to a wooden door where someone is beating the crap out of someone else, and Kōji effortlessly pushes him out of the way. He yanks open the door to reveal a dim hallway leading to a back room.

"In there," says Kōji as Lu Ten slams the door behind them. "You ready to fight?"

"Sure," Lu Ten says, more confidently than he feels. He lets out a breath that comes out like a wheeze, and he fights the oncoming cough so severely it feels like he's choking on it.

Kōji enters the room.

"Duck!" roars the older man, tackling Lu Ten to the ground as a large arrow whizzes past them into the dark hallway. At the end of the room, one man has a crossbow, and there have to be at least six or seven men besides that. They move at once, attempting to surround Kōji and Lu Ten, so Lu Ten rolls out from under the older man, withdrawing his katana as he does and leaping to a stand. He immediately goes to defend Kōji, but when Lu Ten glances over, Kōji’s already bludgeoned someone and is swinging his mace around furiously.

Lu Ten takes the shooter, leaping forward to slice in half the arrow that had been knocked and jabbing their attacker with his sword. The man yells out in pain, but when Lu Ten gets a good look it's not their target, so he withdraws the katana kicks high, hitting the man in the head and knocking him out.

They're down five versus two, now, and it would feel like fair odds if Lu Ten didn't think he was having an asthma attack. The thrill of the fight is familiar enough that his body responds practically on instinct, but he coughs and coughs the whole time, sounding as though he'll hack up a lung. The coughs wrack him so violently that when he takes down another opponent, two more manage to subdue him, grabbing him by his hair and pressing a blade to his throat.

I survived the war, Lu Ten thinks almost hysterically, and I'm going to die at the hands of thieves.

"Bǎi!" Kōji practically screeches, and the hand at his throat is knocked away by a mound of earth. Lu Ten processes in slow motion this turn of events - he looks out the window, which has shattered, and back to his assailants, who are fighting Kōji from across the room. Kōji is yelling and snarling and practically foaming at the mouth.

He is also earthbending, Lu Ten realizes too slowly, as more rocks go sailing past his head and into the attackers.

He's earthbending. There's earthbending here. Kōji, his friend, is an earthbender.

Lu Ten knows he's still kneeling on the ground, and that four very violent men are attacking Kōji, but it's just so hard to breathe, and earthbending is so loud, why is it always so loud?

There's a shout, somewhere, and another rock rushes past Lu Ten, but this time it nicks his ear. Lu Ten inhales, sharp and violent, and the noisy earth falls away to the crackle of flames and smoke. Someone is shrieking. Lu Ten inhales again, and everything around him is a reddish-orange color. It's good and bad all at once, but even though his lungs are working again, his chest still hurts so bad.

"Bǎi!" someone yells, and Lu Ten wonders who they're talking to. There are lots of Bǎis, in both the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom. He hopes it's not a fallen soldier - the man sounds worried. Lu Ten would hate for him to be disappointed.

"Bǎi!" comes the voice again, and Lu Ten's vision clears just long enough to see a round, worried face.

"Dad?" he asks, and the red-orange fades ever-so-slowly to black.

When Lu Ten comes to, he's surrounded by the bodies of his friends. Last he remembered the earthbenders had crossed no man's land in a desperate move, doubtlessly hoping to keep the firebenders from making way on yet another of their walls. Lu Ten had felt for the Earth Kingdom soldiers, of course, but he never thought for a minute they'd succeed. His father was the general, after all, and his father was very good at war.

But it would seem they had been successful, in the end, and the corpses that surrounded him proved it. They're piled on man-made mountains, crushed between enormous boulders, disfigured beyond all possible recognition. Lu Ten moves to stand, a dull ache in his core, and is shocked to find that his legs still work. A voice in his head insists they don't, but then how could he possibly be standing?

He limps around the massacre numbly, unsure what is up and what is down in the aftermath of what seems to have been an explosion, or maybe a very powerful earthquake. He checks every body he passes, even the ones without faces, but every single one is dead. Lu Ten realizes with a start he is the only surviving member of his regiment. That he, the captain, did not go down with his ship. What a miracle. What a shame.

The idea that strikes him is vile and cowardly, but he's removing his decorations and insignia before he can stop himself. The body at his feet is mangled and torn asunder, as though it has been held down and stretched. Its face is nothing but exposed bone and meat, and when Lu Ten switches out his identifiers for the dead body's, it almost feels like he really did die today.

Lu Ten climbs one of the hills created by the earthbenders and looks to the sky. He can see mountains beyond, the Northern Mountains, he's sure. Maybe he can get there. Steal some Earth Kingdom clothes. Pretend his life is not his own. Suddenly there is a low groan from the ground below, and Lu Ten practically tumbles off the hill in search of it. A man, no, a boy is lying at the base of the rocky hill, his leg trapped beneath it. He's pale, paler than Lu Ten has ever seen him -

"Zhen," Lu Ten whispers, cradling the boy's head. He's known Zhen since childhood, the younger brother of one of Lu Ten's closest schoolmates. Lu Ten had insisted he was too young to go to war, but Zhen had fought bitterly for the great honor of serving his nation.

"Lu Ten?" Zhen says, and when he coughs blood stains his lips. In a moment of weakness, Lu Ten wonders if it would have been easier if Zhen had just died with the rest. Lu Ten removes his coat one-armed, taking care to still hold Zhen's head.

"What are you doing, Captain?" the boy asks, barely keeping his eyes open.

"This is going to hurt," Lu Ten says bracingly, shoving the coat in Zhen's mouth and instructing him to bite down. Finally allowing Zhen's head to drop softly to the ground, he moves over to the spot where the boy's leg is stuck. Lu Ten unsheaths the katana he won in a gambling match from his belt and takes a breath, then slices clean through at the juncture between rock and flesh. Zhen barely has time to react before Lu Ten is creating flame against the skin to cauterize the wound, and even with the makeshift gag, Zhen’s screams of pain echo throughout the battlefield. They are going to have to move the minute the skin has closed.

After what feels like forever, Zhen's leg finally stops bleeding. Zhen has stopped screaming as well, and when Lu Ten stands he sees that the boy has passed out. He bends down, hauling Zhen up by the middle and tossing him over his shoulder. Lu Ten almost keels over with the weight, so he stops a moment, shedding his armor and sword and pack, hoping that they'll find a generous healer on their journey north. Lu Ten doesn't want to try their luck with the Earth Kingdom army. They've already shown their cards.

He heads towards the mountains in a daze, Zhen a dead weight on his back as he navigates the smoke and the rubble. Just getting out of the battlefield feels impossible, but the futility of his task does not slow him down.

Lu Ten needs to help Zhen. He needs to leave the war behind. He needs to be anywhere else right now.

Exhausted, delirious, and unaware of his own broken leg, Lu Ten marches on.

Lu Ten sits straight up in bed when he wakes, gasping for air. It takes him a few minutes to remember where he is, especially since he wakes up in the cool summer evening, and the room is illuminated by a bizarre twilight he can't remember noticing before. He lets his breathing slow as he realizes he's safe in Kōji's house, a bowl of water and a neatly-folded washcloth sitting on the table beside him. His lungs, blessedly, accept the air he brings in, without burning or hacking away.

The job, he assumes, did not go well.

Kōji is nowhere to be seen. Lu Ten wonders for a moment if maybe the older man gave up, packed his things and left, before realizing how stupid he's being. This is Kōji's house. Lu Ten splashes his face with the water and rises to a stand, wincing in pain as he does so. His head feels like someone hit it with a club.

Or a mace.

Pushing forward, Lu Ten walks out back to the garden, where Kōji is watering his plants. He barely even looks up, just makes a small nod of acknowledgment and continues his work. Lu Ten had intended to have this conversation standing, to retain some dignity, but his pounding head protests, and he all but collapses into the nearby chair.

Lu Ten rubs hard at the back of his head, knowing more pain is counterintuitive but digging in with the base of his palm anyway. After a few moments, Kōji joins him in the adjacent chair, his bones cracking as he leans back.

"You could've mentioned you were a firebender," the older man says at last. The wind chimes tinkle gently around them, and the scent of fresh berries carry over to where they sit. There is no anger, or even surprise in Kōji's voice. Just a gentle reprimand, like a father would give to their adventurous child.

"You could've mentioned it was a wooden city," Lu Ten says. Kōji smiles, a small, soft thing. He does not laugh like he usually might, and for some reason Lu Ten feels 15 again, sneaking his secret girlfriend into the palace at night, like his father is saying Lu Ten could've just told him.

"You were right," Kōji says, which definitely throws Lu Ten for a loop. "I should've mentioned some things upfront. I didn't want to spook you away from the job, and I didn't want to spook you away by earthbending, either."

Lu Ten doesn't say anything. Just the sound of the word makes him want to get up and run, which is pathetic of him, considering he probably burnt a building down and Kōji is talking like he took a few silver pieces without permission.

"Guess we gotta start being straight with each other, here on out," Kōji continues. "Either that, or maybe we shouldn't be working together."

Lu Ten's stomach somersaults at the very suggestion. He knows, logically, that this is only his first attempt at a new life, that things don't always work on the first try, and if this life with Kōji isn't what he's meant for, well, he'll find something else. The thing is, though, Lu Ten's always gotten stuff on the first try. It's kind of his thing. And Kōji...Kōji is everything and nothing like his father, just the right middle-ground that makes him feel safe at home and far from the Fire Nation all at once.

"There are some things I can't tell you," Lu Ten says plainly, trying not to let his nerves show. Kōji just sighs.

"Yeah, I don't know what I expected," he says, still smiling. "Is there anything you can tell me?"

Lu Ten hesitates, trying to parse through the pieces of his life and figure out what bits are need-to-know.

"Earthbenders killed my men. My friend," Lu Ten says slowly. "I grew up with him. I've known him since he was nine. They crushed his leg and left him there to die."

Kōji hums appreciatively.

"I was taking the low road to the west for a job, and that's when I spotted you and your friend to the south," Kōji says. "You weren't too far from here, but no, you didn't get all the way to my house on that leg. Also, I have a kid, but they're not around much. About your age."

The last admission is hardly a surprise. Kōji may be loathe to admit it, but he’s a natural caretaker, and there’s a terrible loneliness about him Lu Ten had never understood until now. Lu Ten and Kōji look at one another in a sort of mutual understanding. Neither man has said all that probably needs to be said, but still, the air is lighter and things feel easier between them. Cleaner, somehow.

“How’d I hurt my head?” asks Lu Ten after a while.

“Passed out,” Kōji chuckles. “Hit the floor hard.”

"What happened to the target?" Lu Ten asks, an afterthought he hadn't considered until just now.

"Dead. Fortunately, they still paid up. Showed them the tattoo as proof."

"And the others?" Lu Ten says cautiously.

"Burnt to a crisp," Kōji says simply. Then, upon seeing Lu Ten's nervous reaction, he adds, "Don't worry. I made sure they were dead before we left. As far as anyone in Mùchéng's concerned, some fool kicked over a candle."

Lu Ten nods in silent thanks, even as he feels a pang of guilt for the unecessary death. He trusts Kōji, likes him a lot, but he's not really sure why the older man keeps covering for him. Maybe it's for the same reason Lu Ten's so eager to stick around - they're both missing something they lost, and looking for something new.

"We'll have to get used to each other's, you know. Skills," Kōji says awkwardly. Lu Ten agrees, despite the fear in his chest. "I say we start small. Candles and clay and things like that."

Lu Ten nods again, snapping his fingers and producing a tiny flicker of light. Kōji follows suit, reaching down to pick up a rock and crushing it between his fingers. Lu Ten watches, making sure to keep his flame controlled, as Kōji shapes and reshapes the earth. It's not so bad, here, in this context, when Kōji's earthbending resembles pottery more than anything else.

"What do you say?" Kōji asks, finally bending the rock to sand and letting it float away on the summer wind. Lu Ten similarly closes his hand, putting out his fire. "You wanna give hunting another go?"

"Why not?" Lu Ten says grinning. Kōji smiles back at him, and Lu Ten feels with absolute certainty that their next expedition will go better. "Can I just ask one more thing?"

"Shoot, kid," Kōji says as he rises from his seat.

"Show me where you buried my friend?"

Kōji stops in place, eyes widening in surprise. Then he nods solemnly, leading Lu Ten out of the garden and down a winding valley path, which intersects with the road they traveled to Mùchéng. Lu Ten’s head is still pouding, but he fights it off in order to show some respect to Zhen. Kōji points Lu Ten to a small hill, a lump of freshly-turned earth marked by a large stone. At first, the sight makes Lu Ten's throat well up all over again, until he moves closer and finds that Kōji has shaped the stone into a crude rendering of the Fire Nation symbol. His chest loosens again as he reaches out to smooth his fingers over the stone. It's not so bad, really, to be buried beneath the earth, but it's not what Zhen would have wanted.

"Is it...is it possible we could dig him out?" Lu Ten asks in as steady a voice as he can muster. Kōji says nothing, just raises his eyebrows in confusion.

"I want to give him his funeral rites," Lu Ten clarifies.

Kōji moves forward and moves into a careful stance, his face furrowed in concentration. Slowly, gently, the mound rumbles and falls away to reveal an almost fully deteriorated body wrapped in a blanket. Lu Ten takes a deep breath, mumbles a few words of farewell and thanks, and bends a wall of fire befitting of such a soldier.

He moves to stand beside Kōji as Zhen's ashes scatter around them. Kōji stands with his hands clasped, head bowed solemnly. Lu Ten is in a similar stance, but refuses to look away from the pyre he has created, focusing all of his thoughts on his friend, a tribute that has come much too late. When it is done, only Zhen's bones remain. Kōji buries the bones, just as before, and Lu Ten resets the grave marker.

"Thank you," he tells Kōji. It doesn't feel like nearly enough, but it's all he can say, for now. Kōji just grunts in reply. As they walk back to the house, Lu Ten's stomach settles for the first time in days. He knows it's only temporary, but he thinks he feels at ease.

#avatar bebop au #lu ten #iroh #atla #avatar the last airbender #tw death #tw violence #tw ptsd #fanfiction #operation sfa #my stuff #my fanfic

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 3 years

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Hyo-jin Moon and guns

▲ Hyo-jin with his father, Sun Myung Moon

In The Shadow Of The Moons: My Life In The Reverend Sun Myung Moon’s Family by Nansook Hong Little, Brown & Co. Boston, New York, Toronto & London, 1998

extracts:

page 57 I did not know Hyo Jin well but I had heard enough to know he was the black sheep of the Moon family. He was in elementary school when the Moons moved to America. He had been a diligent, if reluctant, student in Korea. Peter Kim, the Reverend Moon’s personal assistant, was assigned to tutor the young heir apparent. Hyo Jin vowed that when he went to America, he would have more freedom than he had known in Seoul.

The move to the United States was not an easy transition for him. Life was even more isolated in the Moon compound in Tarrytown than it had been in Seoul. At home the Moon children were left to the care of church elders and baby-sitters. At school they were the ultimate outsiders.

They were sent to the private Hackley School, where their identities as Moonies subjected them to teasing or outright scorn. Hyo Jin was expelled from Hackley in middle school for bringing a BB gun to school and shooting at several classmates.

page 58 After Hyo Jin was expelled from Hackley, the Reverend Moon sent him to live with Bo Hi Pak, one of his original disciples, in McLean, a wealthy Virginia suburb outside of Washington, D.C. It was the Reverend Moon’s theory that his followers were responsible for rearing the Messiah’s children. The Reverend Moon, after all, was responsible for the care of the world. It was an odd theory for a man who claimed to be the model father of the ideal family, and no one felt the dichotomy more than Hyo Jin Moon.

Hyo Jin’s behavior only deteriorated in Washington. In a large public school, there were fistfights and worse. It was in Washington that he was first introduced to illegal drugs.

page 59 A frustrated Reverend Moon sent Hyo Jin back to Korea for high school, hoping that the supervision of church elders in his own culture would straighten him out. It did not work out that way.

page 60 “When I went to Korea, I started going out with many girls,” he confessed in his 1988 speech to members.

“I really loved one in particular and wanted to marry her. Her parents liked the idea; they thought Father had a lot of money. They encouraged both of us, invited me to their home. They were nice to me. We became very close, almost lived together. I had sex with her. I wanted to do everything in my power to stay with her. I wanted to be matched with her or nobody else. After school, I would sleep over at her house and she at my house, all through high school.

I drank a bottle of whiskey a day. If I didn’t have money, I would buy corn whiskey, cheap and potent. I had to be drunk all the time…I touched bottom. I was listening to my heart cry. I started suffocating. I wanted to kill myself. How could I face Father. I thought the best way was to disappear, then I would have no burden. Many times I sat with a gun pointed to my head, practiced what it would be like. I only cared about my physical body. I was worse than other kids. I was so physical and selfish. I didn’t care how I affected other people. That’s how I grew up.”

▲ Moon married 15-year-old Nansook Hong to Hyo Jin Moon. Sun Myung Moon broke New York State law.

page 182 Manhattan Center became the fuel that powered Hyo Jin’s moral collapse. It was a source of ready cash to finance his cocaine habit, his growing arsenal of guns, and his nightly drinking binges.

He would order his inner circle to accompany him to Korean bars in Queens, where he cavorted openly with “hostesses” and drank himself senseless.

▲ Nansook Hong in 1999

His verbal abuse of me had grown from obscenity-laden insults to threats of physical harm. He would open the gun case he kept in our bedroom and stroke one of his high-powered rifles. “Do you know what I could do to you with this?” he would ask. He kept a machine gun, a gift from True Parents, under our bed.

page 166

[Mrs. Moon] returned from her closet safe with a Gucci handbag. It contained a hundred thousand dollars in cash. This was “seed money” for our family’s future, she told me. I should invest it wisely, perhaps in gold. Later, she said, she would give us another three hundred thousand dollars. Was she bribing me? I was advised to store it in a safe deposit box in a bank in Tarrytown. Had I deposited it in a savings account we would have to do the unthinkable: pay taxes on it. The safe deposit box was a mistake, of course. It provided Hyo Jin with ready access to cash. He used the money that was earmarked for our children’s future to buy a thirty-thousand-dollar gold-plated gun for Father and motorcycles for himself and his brothers.”

__________________________________________

Divorce, Drugs, Jail, a Nasty Custody Battle—Family Woes Lay Bare the Dark Side of the Reverend Sun Myung Moon

By Alex Tresniowski

The disillusioned seem to include many of his children, who were raised with a lack of parental supervision in an atmosphere of incredible luxury at two sprawling Westchester County estates, East Garden and Belvedere. The kids were treated to private hairdressers and fawning attendants and were brought up mainly by nannies while the Moons traveled. When Un Jin expressed an interest in horses, Moon built her a $10 million riding facility; Hyun Jin’s fondness for guns led to construction of a huge shooting range. “The sons, especially, are very arrogant,” says the former Moon friend. “They have egos that you couldn’t fit into a banquet hall.”

In 1996, Hyo Jin spent three months in a Massachusetts jail for failing to pay lawyers’ fees related to his divorce, and this February he was locked up for 20 days in Westchester County jail for violating an order of protection obtained by his wife. That followed his 1994 arrest for drunk driving and two 1995 stays at substance-abuse treatment centers, including the Betty Ford Center in California. Hong’s affidavit claims that Hyo Jin—now working as a music producer at the church-affiliated Manhattan Center Studios in New York City—once brought home a box filled with $1 million in cash, then spent $400,000 “buying cocaine and alcohol, entertaining his friends every night and giving expensive gifts to other women.” In September of 1996, during his ongoing divorce proceedings, Hyo Jin filed for bankruptcy (he later withdrew the filing). A deposition in the case quotes him as stating, “All I like was guns and music.”

Hardly the kind of devotion that is likely to attract new followers to the cause. Even so, says attorney Herbert Rosedale, a prominent Moon critic, “the church’s activities are still strong, and their recruitment is still very active.” Indeed, the church still owns the influential conservative newspaper Washington Times, is developing vast tracts of land in South America and operates various foundations that promote Moon’s family-values message.

Link to the full Alex Tresniowski story

__________________________________________

Ashamed to be Korean

Kook-jin Moon out shooting

Second Generation gives a testimony on life with Hyo Jin Moon

Hyo Jin Moon came to court in Concord in the company of no fewer than four high-priced attorneys to fight Nansook Hong

Nansook Hong’s video gets over one million views with FULL TRANSCRIPT of the ‘60 Minutes’ with Mike Wallace

Hyo-jin Moon jailed for 90 days for failing to pay Nansook Hong as ordered by the court

Nansook Hong, transcripts of three interviews, including ‘60 Minutes’

Nansook Hong interviewed by Herbert Rosedale

Nansook Hong: “I snatched my children from Sun Myung Moon”

Nansook Hong – In The Shadow Of The Moons book

Whitney Houston a no-show at Moon’s mass wedding ceremony

Nansook Hong – The Dark Side of the Moons

A review of Nansook Hong’s revealing book

_________________________________

Spanish

Nansook Hong entrevistada

‘A la Sombra de los Moon’ por Nansook Hong

Secta Moon, a modo de introducción

_________________________________

French

J’ai arraché mes enfants à Moon – Nansook Hong

« L’ombre de Moon » par Nansook Hong

Transcription de Sam Park vidéo en Français

_________________________________

German

Nansook Hong – Ich schaue nicht zurück

Niederschrift von Sam Parks Video

_________________________________

Japanese

Nansook Hong’s interview on ‘60 minutes’ translated into Japanese

TV番組「60分」で洪蘭淑インタビュー

わが父文鮮明の正体 – 洪蘭淑

文鮮明「聖家族」の仮面を剥ぐ – 洪蘭淑

サム·パークビデオの書き起こし文

_________________________________

Polish

„W cieniu Moona” – Nansook Hong

Sam Park i jego historia

#Guns #Hyo Jin Moon #Sun Myung Moon #Unification Church #Family Federation for World Peace and Unification #Nansook Hong

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recentanimenews · 6 years

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Why One Piece Has Become A Global Phenomenon

If you've heard of anime or manga, you've heard of One Piece. It's stood tall when other series have fallen, thrived when other series have faltered, and somehow remained exciting despite the fact that the genre of "muscly dudes yelling about the strength of their dreams at other muscly dudes" is possibly the most oversaturated thing in the history of, well... anything. As of May 2018, it has sold over 440 million copies worldwide, making it the top-selling manga in history. So I guess it's safe to say that One Piece is kind of an global phenomenon. But why?

Well, I can't speak for everyone that has watched One Piece, so I won't try to. I'm sure that there are plenty of different reasons to get into it, whether it checks off on a lot of your fiction preferences, or whether or not you like watching magical villains get punched in their big, dumb faces, or whether you think that the "Pirate Rap" opening that 4Kids did for the series is actually kind of a banger (it is.) All I can do is talk about why I've been obsessed with it for over ten years, and try to relate that to the world. And with that in mind, why did One Piece become a global phenomenon?

Because One Piece forces you to keep up with One Piece.

I don't mean that in a bad way. I'm not implying that its creator Eiichiro Oda is a bad storyteller, one who would rather keep plot threads dangling just out of reach than give us any kind of satisfaction, because there are few manga/anime stories that are more satisfying than One Piece when Oda is writing at his best.

When (spoilers ahead, y'all) Luffy rings the golden bell of Shandora, or when the Straw Hat Crew raises their arms to give a silent goodbye to Vivi, or when Shanks steps in to end the Marineford war, or when Donquixote Doflamingo, an endlessly conniving and seemingly unstoppable warlord, is driven into the earth by Luffy's King Kong Gun, One Piece is "throw your hands in the air and bless our lord Oda on high" levels of satisfying.

One of the greatest things about One Piece is the sense of discovery that pervades every page. The sense of constant renewal through constant expansion. The sense that this full, huge world that you've loved diving into is only just the tip of the beautiful iceberg that Oda has in store. The sense that, one day, you will be able to build an entire living room fort out of all of the One Piece manga volumes you've collected, with a sign on it that says "No My Hero Academia Fans Allowed." I'm joking about that last part. OR AM I?

And it's that love of discovery that ties into what I do mean: That it's hard to be a One Piece fan and not get absolutely obsessed with One Piece. It's legitimately difficult. You just don't meet a lot of casual One Piece fans that have kept up with it for the twenty years that it's been around. Sure, you meet people that decided that the series wasn't for them and dropped it, and I'm sure that those people have some positive qualities. But if you meet another person that stays up to date with One Piece, in my experience, you're usually pulling up your sleeves to reveal the Straw Hat Jolly Roger tattoo on your arm in about six seconds.

One Piece is the theme park that, despite how early you arrived, you'll never get to all of the rides. No matter how long you stay on the One Piece wikia, there are always dozens more pages to read. Even when you think you have a character's backstory locked down, you read through their page one more time and realize "oh man. I didn't remember that in the Punk Hazard arc, there was a single flashback panel of Akainu talking to Enel about not wanting to anger the big mysterious threat in that one island in an unseen part of the New World that's been subtly hinted at for over fifteen years. Well, I guess I gotta reread that, along with reading the backstories of every character involved in that and every character that's ever been involved with every one of those characters, and oh my, it's 5AM."

When you think about your favorite fantasy franchises, how many of them can actually provide a sensation like that? Because, despite how huge they seem, many fictional places are actually very finite. There is a beginning and an end, and the only characters that really matter are the main ones. The history of the supporting cast and the places that they inhabit have details, but they don't have a past, or a future. They're just there to provide a setting for the next big fistfight. And yeah, One Piece arcs do usually end with Luffy screaming as he leaves knuckle imprints in a bad guy's skull, but that's never the real end of the story. There are still repercussions and reverberations and constant, wonderful reaction shots to deal with and sift through and make sense of.

And while, on the surface, the end goal seems very clear (Luffy becomes the Pirate King), no one is sure that that's the actual climax of the series. Will Luffy stay Pirate King? What is the fabled One Piece? Will someone get to it before the Straw Hats? What will happen to the World Government? What will happen to the rest of the Straw Hat crew? What is the final conflict going to be? Where will it take place? And, most importantly, what happened to my boy Gekko Moriah? I miss that dude like y'all wouldn't believe.

Unless you're Eiichiro Oda, you're still trying to figure One Piece out at all times. That is true for both the current arc, and the future arcs, and even some of the past arcs. Being a One Piece fan is being trapped in a state of constant wonder. And despite the fact that One Piece has basically held my life hostage for the past decade, it's a pretty cool way to be.

One Piece is a global phenomenon because it makes you feel great. And who would ever want to give that up?

-----

Daniel Dockery WAS joking about that last part. All Might is the best. Check out his dumb Twitter.

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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mega-city-dismal-blog · 6 years

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MEMORY_001_PART_I

The guy was drowning in his own seizure foam, set off by a cocktail of designer drugs and bad neurocards. We had seen him wandering under the expressway ramp for a month now; stumbling through the intersection with a cape of frayed cyberdeck cables dragging underneath his burnt trench coat.

When we found him, twitching and gurgling as he was, the trench coat had fallen open, revealing the web of tangled rubber cords encasing his body in outdated, recycled tech like some kind of silicon straight jacket. Computer chips and neurocards were visibly sticking out from ports welded into his skin. He must have had a whole array of hormone regulators and induced euphoria programs pumping dopamine into him while the drugs kept the overload of data in check.

He clearly had work done on his whole skull; the sinuses went haywire and totally blew out from the seizure. The small ensuing fire from his augmented skeleton engulfed his face, burning off the skin and revealing the ghastly titanium upgrades he had received before being lost to the city.

The barcode on his neck said it all--Ex-U.N. Colonial Marine Corps. The UNCMC had a habit of throwing their conscripts to the gutter after they were all used-up and the cybernetics they forcefully installed had already paid for themselves in some off-world civil conflict or labor riot, as expendable as the ammunition they fired. The drugs and the slew of jacked-up narcotech were a result of being deprived of synthetic adrenaline pumped into them on the battlefield, a mixture that has the side effect of being incredibly addictive.

After standing there waiting for the fire spewing from the ex-marine’s cybernetic eyes to die down, Dez made a move for his pockets.

She flicked her long purple hair out of her eyes and tugged at his coat, pulling out a few different bags of various colored powders. She handed them to Trip as she stuffed his paper credits into the inside pocket of her jacket, a standard-issue navy blue bomber with Shi-Sak Private Security markings on the back.

Trip flicked one of the baggies containing a copious amount of bright green dust and nodded, pleased with our night’s looted treasure. Dez counted out some of the credits, a fan of purple, green, and blue pieces of paper resembling the older Euros, stamped with Chinese characters and various UN Secretary Generals.

As she moved out of the way, I grabbed at the cords and stripped away the neurocards, jamming two handfuls in the cargo pockets of my worn-out desert fatigues.

We cleared out of the alleyway as fast as we could, rounding the corner and entering the main parking lot to Unity Towers. Twenty-foot tall lamp posts marked hundreds of rows of packed parking spaces filled with modded-out tuner cars and motorbikes. LED displays on windshields splashed flickering, scrolling neon words; different colors and phrases indicating which crew they belonged to inside the behemoth housing projects.

Barrel fires surrounded by matching jacket-clad teenagers dotted the sprawling asphalt lot that sat in front of the twin concrete skyscrapers, placing bets on bareknuckle fistfights and trading drugs and weapons.

We snuck by with our heads down, gliding briskly past a row of arguing bikers and narrowly missing being run over by a caravan of cybered-out pickup trucks overloaded with pissed off gang members.

From the entrance to Eastbridge Tower, we could hear what was bringing the various crews out in droves tonight. The derelict recreation center in the middle, utterly understaffed and dangerously unpoliced, was hosting some sort of thirty-band megashow, and every equally-derelict resident of Unity Towers would be in attendance.

Besides the event itself, the night promised to bring whatever trouble follows almost sixty thousand people that all hate each other converging on one place.

We saw three corporate police officers escorting a gaggle of drunk residents outside, their riot gear already strapped on, awaiting the chaos that was about to envelop Unity Towers.

There was an anxious atmosphere all about the housing complex, the elevator ride to the 28th floor was quietly shared with ten other Eastbridge occupants, a tense air of approaching violence and fear mingling with the desire for a release of anger.

The riot had already started, it just had yet to ignite.

#cyberpunk #noir #neo noir #dark sci fi #sci fi #writing

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rambles-n-tumbles · 7 years

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The Crown Prince (3)

Characters: Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Namjoon, Jung Hoseok + OCs

Warnings: Some Strong Language

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: There is only so much one person can hide.

A/N: Monday update! bringing in some more of the main cast in as we progress! if you haven’t already here are parts one and two! and of course, you can read it on ao3! i hope you enjoy reading!!!

“Jimin, hurry up! What’s taking so long?” He groaned as he ran down the stairs, cursing under his breath at his younger brother calling for him.

“Jungkook, just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you can be a pain.” He let out a laugh, barely avoiding his brother’s arm as it swung at him.

“You’re right. After all, you’re a pain every day.”

“Jungkook-!”

“Such loud boys today, huh?” They froze in their tracks, an older woman stepping out of the house behind them.

“Good morning, Mama.” Jungkook stepped towards her, a smile glued to his face as she kissed her forehead.

“Good morning, Jungkookie. Happy birthday.” Jimin slipped beside them, hugging his mother’s side as she spoke. “I can’t believe you’re 20 now, it feels like just yesterday you were a baby.”

“Ah, Ma,” Jungkook grinned as Jimin shook from laughter, their mother rolling her eyes as she giggled.

“Alright, go on. Don’t let me spoil your fun.” The two laughed, waving to her as they made their way into town.

“So,” Jimin shoved his shoulder into Jungkook’s, receiving a raised eyebrow in return. “What does the birthday boy want to do today?”

“I want to get some earrings.” He could recall a set of earrings that had caught his little brother’s eye a couple weeks back, but he had already purchased for him.

“Well, then let’s go see if we can find some nice ones.”

They wandered until Jungkook found a thin bracelet in a marketplace booth as Jimin did his best to hide a smile when Jungkook couldn’t find the set he wanted.

“It’s not the set, but it’ll do.” Jimin scoffed at the dramas of his younger brother, his grin shining until he noticed something odd.

“Jungkook, you didn’t pick a fight with anyone, right?”

“How am I supposed to pick a fight with anyone when I’ve been with you all day?” He grunted as he adjusted his bracelet, Jimin keeping his gaze fixated on some people off to the side. “Why do you ask?”

“Because,” He lowered his voice, Jungkook’s eyes following his gaze towards some bigger gentlemen watching them. “Those guys have been staring for a couple minutes now.”

“Maybe they think we’re attractive?” Ignoring him, Jimin grabbed his arm and dragged him further into the marketplace.

“Attractive enough to grab the attention of the rebels? C’mon, JK.” A quick glance told them they were being followed by the same men, much to their dismay. “Why are they following us?”

"How do we know they aren’t following you?”

“Oh sure, JK, they’re following the guy that’s never been in an actual fistfight in his life. Real smart.” Jungkook winced at the harsh whisper, letting his brother drag him into a small alleyway.

“What do you think they want?” He shrugged, barely catching his breath before a voice unlike their own answered.

“Simple: we want you.” The voice was like gravel as he spoke from the back of the alleyway, Jimin stepping between the man and his brother.

“We haven’t done anything, sir, so we’ll be leaving now.” The man laughed, looking them up and down apprehensively.

“You seem to be well off for a forgotten King, kid. Shame you’ll be coming with us.”

“What are you talking about? I’m no king.” Jimin paled slightly, his mother’s words in his mind ringing from his youth.

“Are you sure? Look at your friend’s face, he looks like he knows something.” Whatever look he had on his face was gone in a second as Jimin swung at him, his fist meeting his jaw as the man crumbled to the ground.

“Fuck off! You don’t know shit!” Grabbing Jungkook, Jimin ran out of the alley, ducking past the man’s companions as they slipped onto a back road headed home.

“Why did you punch that guy?!” Jimin groaned, the small bit of adrenaline that rushed through him fading away as his knuckles reddened.

“He pissed me off, now c’mon.” Their footsteps resonated as they slammed into the dirt road, the chimney of their home in sight.

“A lot of people piss you off, but you’ve never punched them.” He knew Jungkook was trying to rationalize what had happened, but the questions that would follow weren’t ones Jimin knew the answers to.

“Let’s just get home, JK.” He felt the burning gaze of his brother’s eyes on his head, but it would have to wait. “Then we can talk.”

“How come you boys are back early?” Their mother was standing on the steps as they slowed to a stop, her curious smile turning stern upon seeing their faces. “What happened?”

“Someone recognized Jungkook. Get inside.” Jungkook watched the panic flare on his mother’s face, vanishing as she rushed inside calling out for their father.

“What do you mean ‘recognized’ me, Jimin?” Jungkook spun on him, blocking the doorway as Jimin exhaled.

“Jungkook, they can explain-”

“I don’t wanna hear it from them, what do you know?” Jungkook’s gaze was hurt, confused, and Jimin could recall the day they first met. The day they brought him home. “What don’t I know?”

“You’re my little brother, Jungkookie. I only want to protect you.” Jungkook could hear the hesitation and waited until it bared its fangs. “But you’re not my blood brother.”

“What?” Jimin leaned against the side of the house, Jungkook watching him the entire time.

“I don’t know the details, I was too little to understand anything, but I remember there was a revolt. A rebellion that made you lose your parents. They knew Mom and Dad, so they sent you with us to protect you, to hide you.”

“From what? Where did I come from?” Jimin opened his mouth, but the words failed him as his memory fuzzed.

“I don’t know, JK, that’s why I wanted Mom to tell you. They know more, I was so small-”

“Bullshit!” His fist went against the door, the rumble shaking them both as the silence washed over them. “Who are you hiding me from?”

“Them.” Their father had stepped outside, past Jungkook who -in his fury, didn't see him. He entered the sunlight as two pairs of brown eyes watched him. “We’re protecting you from them.”

As they followed his gaze, they saw horses approaching, two knights on them keeping pace with the ones leading the carriage.

“Dad, who are they?”

The carriage pulled up a little off the side of their home, the guards riding right to the edge of the property as they watched them, all eyes landing on Jungkook.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” A knight hopped off his horse, stepping closer as he lifted his helmet to reveal a dimpled smile. “We’re looking for Jungkook of the Seven Nations.”

“Says who?” Jimin sidestepped in front of his brother as Jungkook remained silent, eyes wide asking the questions for him.

“Says the King,” The second knight climbed off his horse, a hop in his step as he took his helmet off. A messy head of hair shook as he grinned, his lips forming a heart. “And no one really questions him.”

“Who are you?” Jungkook peered at them from over Jimin’s head, watching the knights grin before bowing.

“I am of the Royal Personal Guard, Kim Namjoon.” The man with dimples grinned, momentarily stopping Jungkook’s breathing as he was left distracted, vaguely catching what the second man said.

“Kim Namjoon and Jung Hoseok. Knights for the King.” Jimin repeated before their father put his arm across them both.

“Sorry, gentlemen, you have the wrong house.” Their smiles faltered slightly, the man on the right bouncing back in seconds.

“Strange, considering the wonderful men in the market didn’t have any difficulty spotting him.” Jimin and Jungkook stiffened immediately, their father glancing at them before pushing them closer to the door. Further from the Knights.

“I have no idea what you’re referring to but I assure you, there is no King in my home-”

“Park Hanbin, aged 47, father to Park Jimin and married to Park Jiyeon.” The dimpled knight -Namjoon, Jungkook noted- read off a piece of paper he held in his right hand, glancing at their father with stern eyes. “Isn’t that right?”

“I held an official position once, that is information anyone can find.” His voice was steady, but Jungkook could see his father’s eyes tremble as his hands remained clenched by his sides.

“Maybe,” The knight named Hoseok -what a weird name- spoke up, a smirk creeping onto his face. “But not anyone knows that you and the royal family were close acquaintances until their death 18 years ago.” Jimin felt Jungkook stand a bit straighter behind him, slowly turning to glance up at him.

“Jungkook?”

“Very kind of you to take in the orphaned prince. That couldn’t have been easy to hide.”

“Easier than you’d imagine.” Jimin shuddered, Jungkook’s voice steel as ice when he spoke.

“Jungkook, go inside.” His father took his shoulders, Jungkook looking over his head as he kept his gaze locked on the knights.

“Who am I?” Hoseok and Namjoon shared a look, confusion dawning on them.

“You haven't told him?” This time they looked at his father, who refused to look anywhere but the ground.

“You told us to keep him safe. We are. Now leave us be.”

“Tell me what you know!” Jungkook looked between them, watching Jimin fidget slightly under his glare as he avoided his gaze. “What is everyone so dedicated to hiding from me?”

“Jungkook, why don't you take Namjoon for a walk? I'll speak to the Parks.” Hoseok stepped closer, his helmet resting under his arm as he motioned towards Namjoon to lead him away.

“...fine.” Jungkook stepped past his father, Jimin gripping his shirt as he stepped with him.

“I'm coming, too.” He finally met his gaze, watching the emotions flurry in his brother's wide eyes. “I'm still your brother, you aren't getting rid of me so quick.”

“Jimin, no.” His father's hand was around his arm in a second, pulling him back. “Let Jungkook breathe for a moment.”

“I'll be fine.” His voice was small and soft, but Jimin knew what Jungkook meant. Stay here, stay home.

“Okay,” Jungkook walked to stand beside the taller of the two knights, sending a small nod his way. “Okay.”

Namjoon let Jungkook lead the way, the two round a corner as they disappeared from sight, leaving them behind. Jimin felt the tension thicken as Jungkook’s back vanished from sight, his father moving to open the front door.

“Hoseok, if you will.” Hoseok grinned, Jimin put off slightly by the ease in which the man shone his teeth.

“Absolutely. We have much to discuss.”

#bts #lgbtqbangtan.net #royal au #jeon jungkook #park jimin #kim namjoon #jung hoseok #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic

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myraelvira · 3 years

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What Happened To Randy Sellers?

Randy Lee Sellers was born on September 6th, 1962. He was born to Wanda and John Cotton. Randy had a younger brother, Tyran Renard, that was born in 1967. He was considered to have been from the Visalia/Morning view area of Kentucky.

Randy was in Alternative school at the time, and according to anecdotal evidence, he was considered one of the ‘bad boys’ in his area. “Randy was in and out of trouble most of his teen years and the local cops were quite familiar with him.”.

On August 15th, 1980, Randy was at the Kenton County Fair in Independence, Kentucky, when he was arrested for disorderly conduct and public intoxication. Allegedly, he got into a fistfight with someone at the fair, and the cops were called. The police believe that Randy was under the influence of drugs at the time, and even struck one of the cops after he was put in the squad car.

As the story goes, Randy was dropped off by the police about one mile from his family’s home in Visalia. Some reports say that Randy provided unclear directions to the house, and others claim that the officers dropped in him at the location as a favor to Randy. Either way, Randy never returned home and was never heard from again.

A man named Jack Isles, an alleged friend of Randy’s, stated that he was at the fair on the night of Randy’s disappearance. In an article, he stated that he regretted not having offered Randy a ride home that night. “I wish I could have told him to come on home. Let him go with me. I wish he was here, God-honest truth with you.”.

At first, it was believed that Randy had drowned, with his footprints near the Licking River which hugs the Visalia area. The footprints matched a set of hiking boots owned by one of his relatives, and there were marks that someone may have slipped and fallen into the water. When authorities searched the river to find nothing, they then believed that the footprints were left by people searching for Randy.

Many people believe that a man named Donald LeRoy Evans murdered Randy. Evans was a drifter that was eventually sentenced to death for the murder of a child in Mississippi; he claimed that he picked Randy up along Route 177, the main road in the Visalia area. Allegedly he took Randy to Kincaid Lake State Park and shared a beer with him. Then he supposedly shot Randy in the head with a .45 and buried his body, on that night in 1980. Evans also claimed to be responsible for other unsolved cases, including the death of Kimberly Dawn McClaskey. Evans was rather notorious for having preyed on people in rest areas and parks.

One of the reasons why Evans was considered a possibility is because he actually confessed to the murder in Mississippi and led authorities to the body of the girl. He also confessed to a murder in Florida of a prostitute that was found in a hotel room. He told authorities details that led to a set of his prints. So at least twice over, he confessed to murders that were proven to be tied to him.

Authorities searched Kincaid Lake State Park for Randy’s body in 1994, 14 years after his disappearance, but nothing was found. Evans was never charged in the case, and police were not even sure if he was involved. His claims though, were considered credible. Another one of the main reasons people believed that Evans may have been responsible, was because he drew a crude yet accurate map of the park.

When they went to search for Randy’s body, there was nothing there. Evans initially stated he buried Randy 3 feet deep in the ground with some sheet metal that he found. Then later, he changed his story to having sort of just covering Randy’s body with some forest brush.

There have been multiple searches in order to find Randy or even his body, yet none have turned up anything. In 2018, there was a search in March at the Kincaid park where a rescue team’s dogs picked up the alleged scent of a decaying body. Apparently, the area the scent was found matched the area that Donald Evans claimed to have buried Randy’s body. There was the belief that the map Evans drew was potentially misinterpreted at first, when they searched for Randy in the 90’s. In the recent past, some people believed that reading the map in a different way (or upside down) could reveal more information and potentially find Randy (which to me, doesn’t prove that the map was accurate in the first place). It is unknown what came of that search, if there was any dead body at all. In my personal opinion, I do not see how a body can still be decaying 38 years after the fact. Interestingly, the case was still considered open, as of 2018.

Randy’s mother believes that her son hitched a ride with Evans to the park, in hopes of seeing her since she was staying there with a friend at the time. As recently as 2019, Wanda Cotton has been reported stating that she believes that Evans killed her son. Wanda said in 2019, “I believe in my heart, that Randy was killed by Donald LeRoy Evans.”. She believes that Randy’s body is somewhere in the park, with a marker to remember him, and another woman who was killed.

Randy’s physical appearance is described as having been 5’9”, 149 pounds, with brown hair and hazel eyes. Randy had a birthmark on the crown of his head, a scar above his left eye, and a surgical scar on his right knee. He had a scar on his left elbow, from an old fracture. There was a tattoo of the letter ‘R’ on his right forearm, though other sources state that it was on a forearm. He may have had a crown on tooth, and wore a beard on his chin at the time of his disappearance. He was last seen wearing a black shirt, blue jeans, and work shoes.

The reason I bring this up now, is that there is an interesting John Doe that seems to match that description. On doenetwork there is John Doe 419UMOK. He was found on April 9th, 1995 in Crowder, Oklahoma next to a Jane Doe. The Jane Doe was estimated to have been 18-30 years old, 5’6”, with long light brown almost blonde looking hair. Jane wore black denim size 10 pants, blue underwear, a red pullover shirt, white socks, and a white bra. She had 2 rings on her left hand, one of a yellow metal band, and other of a single white stone. John was estimated to have been 20-30 years old, 5’7”,with brown/light blond hair, with a light brown mustache. He wore a green denim pair of pants (31/34) black and white checkered briefs, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket. He had a ring on his left hand, a yellow metal band, with 14k and TW inscribed on the inside. He also wore a watch that was still working at the time their bodies were found, though it was an hour behind the current. Most interestingly, is that this doe had a tattoo of the letter ‘R’ on his upper left forearm. He also had a tattoo of a cross on his upper left arm. Both bodies were found decomposing under a tree near Lake Eufala, and seemed to have been dragged about 50 feet from a dirt road. Though it may seem far fetched that this doe may have been Randy, the tattoo was a detail that I could not omit.

[NOTE: This doe has been excluded from Randy]

There are some interesting things that I have come across with Randy’s case, whether it be from online errors, to just random things. The first thing, is that on Randy’s page for the doe network site, he is listed as female, all other sites correctly list him as male. For some reason, the main photo used to show Randy’s most recent appearance when he disappeared, has black markings that make it look like he was wearing a black shirt. The full version of the photo is included on the namus profile for him, and it shows that he was shirtless. I know that this means nothing, but I can’t understand why someone would “photoshop” a fake shirt on a picture of him?

Through reading about this case, I have not came across a lot of information on Randy’s background. There is the info that he was in alternative school, and the anecdotal that he was a bit of a bad boy. There is a personal story on a post on websleuths were someone said that Randy was pretty familiar with the cops, so the idea that they didn’t know where his house was at was asinine. I haven’t even heard anything about the night of the fair, and I am curious what the fight that Randy had was about. Was it just a drunken brawl? Was there a reason that he got into the fight other than being drunk? Who was the person that he got into a fight with? Was it an adult or another teen? Was it perhaps someone related to a cop or a big official? How long had Randy been in alternative school for, and what the reason why he was there exactly? Did he have a hard time with his family? Did he ever talk about running away possibly?

I think that it is important too, to look at a map of the area as a whole. The Visalia area is not that far from Ohio.

There a few does from that area that may be plausibly close to being Randy.

https://www.namus.gov/MissingPersons/Case#/1712/details?nav

https://www.namus.gov/UnidentifiedPersons/Case#/6715?nav

There have been two facial progressions of Randy, one in 2006, and another in 2011. I will be completely honest, I think both are terrible. The first one from 2006 is honestly terrible and does not look like him at all. The second on from 2011 is closer, but it does not seem too accurate. This honestly reminds me of the Reet Jurvetson case where the drawings of her when she was Jane Doe were completely different from how she really looked. Personally, I think that Randy looked almost exactly like his father, down to the nose and hairline. I don’t understand why they did not go with a progression based off of that.

Unfortunately, on December 10th, 1990, Randy’s younger brother Tyran committed suicide. He is buried at Mother of God Cemetery in Kenton Vale, Kentucky.

There is still uncertainty as to what happened to Randy. Many people, like his mother, believed that he was murdered by Donald Evans. Despite looking for the body 14 years later, there has not been any evidence that Randy was buried in the park. Though at the same time too, a 14 year gap of looking for a body that may have been buried in a shallow grave leaves more than enough time for nature to naturally scatter the pieces. Others believe that Randy may have been killed by the police, potentially just tired of a ‘juvenile delinquent’. Rumors have said that police killed Randy, and buried the body on property of a policeman.

Randy’s parents, John and Wanda, are still alive today (as of 2020), and are still looking for answers as to what happened to their son. In 2019, it was revealed that John had been diagnosed with cancer. The parents expressed their worry that after they eventually pass away, who would remember Randy. Fortunately, research teams and the press have shown that people are still thinking about Randy, even to this day.

[SOURCES]

http://charleyproject.org/case/randy-lee-sellers

https://www.cincinnati.com/story/news/2019/06/04/randy-sellers-missing-case-kenton-county-towson-university/1338652001/

http://www.pollyklaas.org/missing/kids/randy-sellers.html

https://www.wcpo.com/news/local-news/kenton-county/police-renew-search-for-randy-sellers-in-1980-missing-person-case

https://local12.com/news/local/randy-sellers-parents-plead-for-tips-in-his-case-nearly-39-years-later

https://billiongraves.com/grave/Randy-L-Sellers/25146466

https://www.namus.gov/UnidentifiedPersons/Case#/5174/details

https://www.namus.gov/UnidentifiedPersons/Case#/5170?nav

https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/136164576/_

http://www.doenetwork.org/cases/14dmky.html

https://www.namus.gov/MissingPersons/Case#/1712/details?nav

https://www.websleuths.com/forums/threads/ky-randy-sellers-17-visalia-16-aug-1980.31947/

#randy sellers #missing person #missing people #cold case #donald leroy evans

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graciedroweuk · 7 years

Text

“Happy marriages often follow from humble beginnings”: In praise of short engagements and cheap weddings

My spouse and I fulfilled . You will possibly not genuinely believe that cheese and novelty plates stays would be the material desires that are intimate are constructed of. But inside a couple of days, I wore a gemstone.

I considered to myself, This Really Is totally crazy. 3 months later, when I got my dad’s supply and strolled along the section, I had been still considering the same.

However today, after ten years of relationship, I’m persuaded moderate wedding and our brief wedding were sensible. Or atleast as smart as it’s feasible when you’re pleasantly in-love to become.

There’s too much to be stated to get a wedding. The typical wedding continues 14 weeks, based on an 2014 study printed Within The Knot. That’s lots of time for you to dedicate to wedding planning—time that many people may would rather invest composing a guide or concentrating on obtaining a master’s diploma.

On-trend, clearly luxurious weddings aren’t among my 20- and 30- peers. Alternatively, partners proceed set for festivities that experience homey and austere. However the homespun visual belies effort’s hours that get into planting your personal tasty centerpieces and tying ribbons around those mason- lanterns. And thus many partners find yourself consuming custom drinks of tension and nervousness in the service, all to get a year or even more.

Investing lots of cash on the augur a marriage that is lasting, possibly. With greater divorce prices,000 is linked actually, investing significantly more than $20. claims, “A powerful relationship … is definitely a deliberate one” but “expensive bands and events don’t produce happier unions.”

in reality, whenever a pair ties the-knot, they must be informing themselves, “This factor is really insane it might just work.” within this lighting, what’s perhaps totally crazy may be the large cost and monotonous focus on depth that National tradition promotes individuals to put in honoring a having a 40-50% percentage probability of disappointment. In reality, whenever a pair ties the-knot, they must be informing themselves, “This factor is really insane it might just work.”

Don’t misunderstand me: I really like extravagant marriages, homey between. I’ve visited a dinner kept about the household boat, and also to a laid back party in a condition park that included a bit more than potato and protection salad. Several additional festivities within our lifestyles complement a pleased variety that is wedding’s. Whenever otherwise would you reach reveal a dance-floor with grandmas growing and friends, ill advised hookups? In a wedding, you can accept every phase of existence that is individual.

What I deplore may be the stress encompassing weddings—brought on in no little component from the wedding- complex. Although dependable figures are difficult to find, study information from TheKnot.com indicates the typical wedding price today lamps in at $32,641, nearly the average deposit on the home in america. XO Team, which possesses TheKnot.com, quotes the “spend related to weddings… totals over $70 million annually.”

But caterers wedding publications and T. Team magazines effective people that people have to put atleast a year’s value of assets and power into planning for a solitary day’s festivities. We’re coping with a explosion of symbolism. Between Instagram and Myspace, we see all of our buddies and acquaintances’ marriages, filled with exquisitely barns by drones, not or whether we attend.

I enjoy the women and grooms who, within the encounter of that stress, show what’s referred to as chill. switch on it and there’s State Yes towards the Gown and Bridezillas, which stabilize the concept that marriages are fundamentally large-tension matters that might be imperfect without yelling fits within the dressing-room and fistfights within the parking lot. Browse the information, and the Brand New York Times’ Vows line shows that an excellent wedding entails A – 16-site created brochure, 15 various audio items along with a household hotel filled with a “wedding meadow.”

It and a quantity of stress on the pair all add up together. And so I enjoy grooms and the women who, within it all’s encounter, show what’s referred to as chill.

I believe of my buddy Jen. After I requested her she fulfilled her spouse Tag, she stated, “We wound up being designated towards the same pit in a charity tennis event and equally worked part-time for a organization. We’d a couple of hours to destroy, therefore we dropped in love.” Involved just for a couple of months, they appropriated a small-home church and discovered a by which to park it. She purchased a $120 gown online. Complete invest? Significantly less than $ 1,000.

Given, Jen have been married but I’ve noticed lots of tales that were comparable from First Timers. Our buddy Jane got committed at her summercamp. “Because it wasn’t a conventional location, for all of US also it didn’t price something they created an exclusion,” she explained. She and got bouquets from Costco her spouse created playlists for that wedding on Spotify, and introduced their very own liquor. “The big ticket product catered,” she explained. “My lace gown was saturated in sticks from the end-of the day.”

Another buddy, Danny -partner Yuka (who’s Western) created a field-of-the- decision to obtain wedded towards the people on her immigration within the encounter of the $5,000 lawful statement for work. “I understood I didn’t wish to throw away cash on lawyers Danny explained. Whatsoever or “I would like to get married. I needed to truly have a child and purchase an apartment.”

Six-days they were wed in the town clerk’s workplace since it was the week gay-marriage was legalized in Ny in Manhattan—a particularly joyful location at that time. Afterward, they visited brunch at Les Halles, along with a colleague acquired the check. They wound up in the films and went to get a bicycle trip. (“The just film offered at the full time we desired was Terrible Employers,” Danny provides. “It was said to be a humor however it wasn’t great.”)

They place the cash they stored toward a on the co op on lawful costs. Today they’ve got the kid—their child, Chiara and also the condo, is nearly four decades old—they wished for.

What I really like about these tales is each insufficient pretension and stiffness, their pleased functionality. There might be actual feeling in skipping all of the red-tape and trouble of independence.

Obviously, if your pair really wants to place some planning that is severe right into a party for family and friends, that’s definitely their choice. But I actually do desire more individuals thought like they’d the choice of beginning in whichever method they need their relationship. Probably the easiest way to fight the stress to prepare a conventional wedding would be to motivate individuals to reveal stories of the scrappy, incomplete pathways to marriage–a remedy towards the globe of costly tulle robes, sophisticated hand crafted centerpieces, along with other functions that allegedly sign the hefty transfer of the marriage day.

the following day, I wasn’t certain whether I had been truly involved or not. Our brain screeched: just how can that be anything you don’t know? in my encounter, atleast, content partnerships frequently follow from simple origins. I visited the the night, I did so not need excellent objectives for that night. (Who’d?) I had been there on a, Craigslist day that is almost quiet. My university sweetheart recently left I’d and was heartbroken I’d transferred in with my parents in my own neighborhood. So far as I had been worried, existence couldn’t get significantly worse.

Subsequently my previous high school sweetheart, Bob, strolled in. I almost ducked underneath the desk. He voiced in atleast four decades. But two nights he named to express that people must spend time. We got a glass or two, and I was shown by him round the small home he’d simply purchased. We were resting on his sofa, caregiving another ale, when he requested me, “What do you consider?”

The very first thing that found brain was stated by me. “I believe we ought to get married.” he explained he believed therefore also, ripped me onto his lap.

I went home to my home that was parents’. I woke up the following day and that I wasn’t certain not or whether I had been truly involved. Our brain screeched: just how can that be anything you don’t understand?

And so I delivered him a wording: “I nevertheless adore you this morning.”

Another afterwards, he texted back: “I nevertheless adore you each morning.”

Downstairs, informed my parents strolled . About $13 and 3 months I had been wedded. We’d an evening that is beautiful, certain. However it was only a wedding.

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