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#Hull City Police
old-transport · 2 years
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Vintage Police Officer in colour - Kingston upon Hull City Police?
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Vintage Police Officer in colour - Kingston upon Hull City Police? by Frederick McLean Via Flickr: A version hand (not automatic AI) *coloured by me, of an old photograph of a Police Officer with collar number 127.H. The original sepia photo is here:- flic.kr/p/2mcVXdt Unfortunately there is nothing on the photo to indicate his force but the photographer studio was at 149 Beverley Road (opposite Fountain Road), Hull, so it is likely he was in Kingston upon Hull City Police, other photos at that time show similar numbers with a 'H' (although no full stop). * PLEASE NOTE - My coloured images are more sketch or watercolour like than colour transparency or print like. They are an impression of that subject and period, rather than an accurate representation of how the image/subject actually looked when the photo was taken. If there are any errors in the above description please let me know. Thanks. 📷 Any photograph I post on Flickr is an original in my possession, nothing is ever copied/downloaded from another location. 📷 -------------------------------------------------
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if-you-fan-a-fire · 1 year
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“PLEADS GUILTY TO $2,478 THEFT,” Toronto Star. March 2, 1933. Page 1. ----  Hull, Que., March 2. - A plea of guilty was made by J. Arthur Valin, deputy clerk of Hull magistrate's court, when he appeared to-day before Magistrate Honore Achim on a charge of having stolen $2,478 from the Quebec government. Valin, who was suspended two weeks ago, surrendered himself last night to the governor of Hull jail. He was remanded until next Tuesday for sentence.
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fafnir19 · 2 months
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Sailing the other way
Lauritz' sister's fiance Samuel and him were very different. Samuel, the suave and sophisticated heir to a wealthy family, always seemed to have the world at his fingertips.
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Lauritz, on the other hand, was a rebellious and free-spirited punker who didn't quite fit in with the conventional lifestyle his family wanted for him.
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Despite their differences, Samuel and Lauritz got along surprisingly well. Their interactions were a peculiar blend of class and nonconformity that created a magnetic dynamic between them. It was on the cusp of Samuel's impending wedding that an unconventional idea began to take shape.
"Ey, Sam, let's do something wild before your wedding, mate," Lauritz proposed with a glint of mischief in his eyes. Samuel raised an eyebrow, unsure of what adventure Lauritz had in mind this time. "What did you have in mind, Lauritz? Last time your 'wild' idea led to us spending a night in a police cell in Amsterdam." Lauritz replied: “Vegas would be cool, but at the end of the day it’s your bachelor party. I'll do whatever you want!" Flashing a boyish grin, Samuel draped an arm around Lauritz's shoulders. "I want to take our boat out and sail across the Baltic Sea. It'll be an epic journey filled with freedom and salt-kissed air. You in?" Lauritz, with his unconventional mohawk and punk attire, looked askance at Samuel. "Sailing? That's a bit, you know, bourgeois for my taste," he quipped, adjusting the studded leather jacket slung over his shoulder. Smirking, Samuel continued, "Nonsense! It's summer, and what better way to enjoy some fresh sea air? Besides, it’ll be an adventure, and it'll please the in-laws to see you refining your tastes." Lauritz's parents, along with Samuel's family, were indeed relieved by the prospect. "Better than if you were hanging out with those punkers," his mother had remarked with a grateful smile. With their bags packed and spirits high, Samuel and Lauritz boarded Samuel's family's mahogany sailboat bound for Helsinki.
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The sun's golden gaze kissed the cerulean waves, casting a mesmerizing glow upon the Baltic Sea. "Ah, this is the life, isn't it?" Samuel exclaimed, his gaze sweeping over the glittering expanse of the sea. Lauritz nodded, a wry smile playing on his lips. "It's not as terrible as I imagined. But still, wouldn't you rather be planning your wedding festivities than gallivanting with me?" Samuel chuckled, adjusting his nautical cap. "Oh, come now, my dear Lauritz. We have the rest of our lives for all that. Let's revel in the freedom while we can. Besides, you're not so bad to have around, even for a punker." Lauritz feigned offense, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously. "You wound me with your words, Samuel," he teased. As the ship cuts through the gentle waves, Samuel took Lauritz under his wing, teaching him the art of sailing. Despite his initial skepticism, Lauritz found himself unexpectedly enjoying the experience, reveling in the salty breeze and the rhythmic lull of the waves against the hull. Their journey led them to the enchanting city of St. Petersburg, where the juxtaposition of baroque architecture and Soviet-era relics offered a feast for the eyes.
As they wandered through the labyrinthine streets, the allure of the city enticed Lauritz to explore the more unconventional facets. "I've been thinking," Lauritz began, his voice laced with determination. "I want an eyelet in my ear, like the punks back home. It's about time I made my mark, don't you think?" he declared, pointing to a trendy piercing found amongst the punk subculture.
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Samuel's face turned a shade of pale as he frantically tried to dissuade him, envisioning the cocktail of disapproving glares from his in-laws. "Lauritz, you can't just waltz back to the family estate with a hole in your ear. What would my in-laws think? Besides, piercings can lead to infections. How about something more inconspicuous? Like a nipple piercing?" Lauritz let out a laugh, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Oh, Samuel, always thinking about appearances. But where's the fun in that? I want something that screams independence! Something bold." Their banter was interrupted by a raspy cackle that seemed to echo through the narrow alley they were passing. They turned to see an old woman, draped in shawls and adorned with clinking trinkets. Her eyes glittered with an unsettling intensity as she fixed her gaze on the two friends. "You just have to hold him tight, then we'll circumcise him and I'll make a silver ring out of his foreskin," the old woman mused, her eyes glinting with whimsical certainty. "All you have to do is put this ring on your penis and Lauritz will visually adapt to your taste as long as you wear the ring." Samuel gasped, his mind reeling from the outlandish suggestion. But to his surprise, Lauritz entertained the idea, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "We'll do that, Samuel," Lauritz proclaimed, casting a challenging grin. "After all, you wanted me to do something inconspicuous. What's more inconspicuous than a circumcision?" Despite Samuel's vehement protests, Lauritz remained resolute, and before long, the old woman performed the peculiar ritual, and to their astonishment, the excised foreskin transformed into a shimmering silver ring, which she bestowed upon Lauritz.
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Back on the sailboat, Lauritz couldn't contain his mischievous glee as he gazed at the ring. "Now, it's your turn, Samuel. Put the ring over your... You-know-what," he demanded with a sly smirk. Reluctantly, Samuel acquiesced, only to find that, to his bewilderment, nothing seemed to happen.
As the mahogany sailboat gently cut through the azure waves, Samuel and Lauritz lounged on the deck, basking in the warm embrace of the sun. The sea stretched out around them, a shimmering expanse as far as the eye could see, carrying them toward the next port of their Baltic odyssey, the enchanting city of Tallinn. Lauritz sprawled out on the deck, his eyes half-lidded and gazing at the sprawling cityscape of Tallinn ahead, the gentle sea breeze ruffling his hair. Lauritz raised a hand to his shock of green mohawk, only to find something unexpected. Instead of the vibrant strands he had known for years, his fingertips grazed a neat, blonde faded cut with shaved sides.
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He let out a surprised chuckle, turning to Samuel with an air of amusement. "Samuel, can you believe it? The old woman's prediction must have come true!" Lauritz proclaimed, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "This silver ring has really worked its magic. Look at this hair!" Samuel's eyes widened, examining Lauritz's transformed hairstyle with disbelief. "But I saw your green hair this morning. You must have cut it just to fool me," Samuel elucidated, struggling to reconcile the inexplicable transformation before his eyes.
Their banter was interrupted by the sight of Tallinn's spires unfolding on the horizon, a tapestry of architectural marvels rising from the coastline. The allure of the city's winding streets beckoned them, and they eagerly embraced the promise of new adventures. In the heart of Tallinn, the cobblestone streets echoed with the lilt of their footsteps as they wandered through the centuries-old alleys adorned with vibrant blooms. They eventually settled into a quaint street café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the gentle breeze. Lauritz, donning a sailing jacket, leaned back against his chair, relishing the warmth of the sun's embrace. With a casual air, he began unbuttoning his jacket, revealing the absence of his usual body hair, a curious discovery that piqued Samuel's interest.
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"Lauritz, your... your hair! It's gone," Samuel exclaimed, his eyes widening in incredulity. Lauritz chuckled, his voice laced with a roguish charm. "The magic strikes again, my friend. Behold the power of belief and a touch of enchantment." Samuel watched in awe as the revelation unfolded before him, unable to completely dismiss the inexplicable occurrences that seemed to dance around Lauritz like a whimsical symphony. "You must've shaved this morning to jest with me," Samuel suggested, his tone tinged with skepticism. "This can't be real." "Ah, always the skeptic," Lauritz teased. "But I assure you, this is the handiwork of the ring. It's brought a dash of transformation to my life, hasn't it?"
As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting hues of amethyst across the sky, they sailed toward Stockholm. The promise of new adventures and unexpected marvels beckoned them as they set sail toward the Swedish capital. The following morning, Lauritz awoke to the gentle lull of the ship, the rays of the rising sun casting a golden glow upon the skyline.
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As he prepared for the day's exploration, his reflection in the mirror above the sink evoked a bout of bewilderment. His eccentric punk ensemble had been replaced by an impeccably tailored ensemble—an unbuttoned shirt and sleek olive-colored pants that exuded an air of refinement and sophistication.
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"What in the world?" Lauritz muttered, his eyes widening in sheer disbelief. "Samuel, you won't believe this!" Samuel emerged from the cabin, his eyes immediately falling upon Lauritz's stupefying transformation.
"Samuel, it's happened again! This silver ring is truly astounding," Lauritz exclaimed, his spirit alight with unadulterated glee. "Look at these clothes! I didn't expect the magic to work on my outfit too!" Samuel's incredulity was palpable as he regarded the sight before him. "Lauritz, you must have changed into this outfit while I wasn't looking," Samuel reasoned, his tone laced with skepticism. "It's impossible for a ring to cause all this. Whatsoever, I still think it’s good that you dressed more refined today. After all, we want to have breakfast today at the Grand Hotel, where the Nobel Peace Prizes are usually awarded.”
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The mahogany sailboat bobbed gently as it sliced ​​through Stockholm's sun-kissed archipelago en route to Visby on Gotland. Samuel manned the helm, while Lauritz was standing at the bow, his gaze trailing horizon. Suddenly Lauritz went through another unexpected transformation. Lauritz's black jeans and baggy T-shirt shifted seamlessly into a wide-open shirt and tight red shorts, his physique now exuding an athleticism that caught Samuel off guard.
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Samuel's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in disbelief as he beheld the improbable evolution unfurling before him. "Lauritz, what... what in the world is happening? This—this isn't right," Samuel stammered, his voice trembling with an amalgamation of astonishment and concern. "I... I need to put a stop to this. I need to get rid of that ring." Lauritz, amusement dancing in his gaze, placed a supportive hand on Samuel's shoulder. "Come on, Samuel, don't be so quick to stifle the mystery. Embrace the uncertainty," he encouraged, a playful glint in his eyes. "Let's see what more this whimsical journey has in store for us."
As the sailboat glided toward the shores of Gotland, the island exuded an alluring mystique, its ancient ruins and labyrinthine streets promising an adventure both whimsical and enigmatic. Their footsteps echoed through the quaint streets of Visby, framed by structures that stood as timeless testaments to ancient grandeur. The island cast its spell upon them, ensnaring their senses with the echoes of bygone eras and the whimsy of forgotten legends. As they ambled through the cobbled pathways, Lauritz noticed a peculiar shift in the way the islanders regarded him. Warm smiles and nods of acknowledgment replaced the guarded glances that typically followed his punk façade.
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"Lauritz, did you notice that?" Samuel inquired, his tone laced with a tinge of wonder. Lauritz nodded, a spark of amazement gleaming in his gaze. "It seems the residents of Visby have taken a shining to me, haven't they? The magic of the ring... it's a wonder indeed." The day waned into a resplendent evening, the sun casting its golden embrace upon the island as a symphony of stars unfurled across the heavens. Samuel and Lauritz reveled in the evening's enchanting tapestry, their thoughts drifting toward the next leg of their Baltic odyssey
The melding of disbelief and marvel lingered in the air, enveloping them in a veil of intrigue, as they embarked on their final leg of the journey toward Copenhagen. Clad in polished tuxedos, they reveled in opulent indulgence. Since Samuel had studied in Copenhagen, he knew how to gain access to the most exclusive establishments with a practiced ease.
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Amidst the effervescent allure of the Danish capital, the two friends embraced the revelry of their adventure indulging in the opulence that enveloped them. Their boisterous laughter and animated conversations resounded through the hallowed halls of the city's elite establishments, the allure of upscale soirées and lavish gatherings capturing their spirits in a whirlwind of decadence. "Ah, Copenhagen has a certain allure, doesn't it?" Samuel remarked, a smirk playing on his lips as they strolled through the city's resplendent evening. Lauritz nodded, the vibrant tapestry of revelry and sophistication intoxicating his senses. "It seems your world has its own brand of enchantment, Samuel. I can't deny its appeal."
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Samuel watched with an inexplicable mix of astonishment and fascination as the vivacious Lauritz seamlessly embraced the lavish lifestyle that had once appeared incompatible with his punk ethos.
The morning of their departure from Copenhagen arrived, and the sailboat set sail once more, carrying them toward Helsingborg where Samuel will marry Lauritz’ sister. As the sailboat rocked gently over the calm water, Samuel brought up the topic that had been bothering him. “Lauritz, I think it’s time to take the ring off. After all, your sister expects you to look like a punk – even though I prefer your current, charming look,” Samuel announced with solemn weight in his words. Venturing into the cabin, Samuel endeavored to remove the ring, only to be met with an unforeseen predicament.
His fervent words reverberated with unrestrained urgency, "Lauritz, I can't... It won't... It's... I can't remove it! Lauritz, I can't seem to get it off," he called out in distress, his voice wrought with urgency.  "It's stuck, and I don't know what to do." Lauritz sprang into action, his touch eliciting a peculiar sensation in Samuel, who found himself thrown off balance by an unexpected surge of arousal - Samuel sported a boner. Before their bewildered eyes, Lauritz's demeanor underwent a subtle shift, his gaze now infused with an alluring allure that took Samuel by surprise. As the unexpected surge of desire enveloped them, Lauritz dropped his shorts, parting his legs with a provocative air.
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"Take this opportunity, Samuel. Let's embrace the unexpected," Lauritz uttered with a newfound confidence, the air thick with unspoken desires that coursed between them. Samuel was drawn by the sight and couldn't resist and took the opportunity to penetrate Lauritz.   After they made love Lauritz turned to Samuel, a solemn glimmer in his eyes, and whispered, "Samuel, I... I want to stay like this. I don’t want to become a sleazy punker again." Samuel’s breath caught in his throat, his gaze locked with Lauritz's. "What are you saying, Lauritz?" In an unexpected twist of fate, the ring tightened around Samuel's cock, seamlessly merging with his flesh. As the transformation took hold, a sense of undeniable euphoria washed over him. Gazing at Lauritz, a knowing smile curled Samuel's lips. "Tomorrow, I will marry my dream girl. And as her dowry, I received her brother to have fun with. I couldn't be happier." Lauritz chuckled and teased, "I guess even a trip to Las Vegas couldn't have been wilder. Seems like your gay sailing trip turned us both bi.”
The following day, as Samuel stood at the altar, he exchanged vows with his beloved, the echoes of a union hitherto unforeseen threading through the tender fabric of his heart.
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And in Lauritz, he found a cherished confidant—a companion bound by the threads of an unexpected journey that would endure far beyond the veil of tradition. As the evening unfurled in all its opulent splendor, Samuel orchestrated a future endowed with an unforeseen serenity. With unwavering determination, he ensured that Lauritz was granted a place at an elite university and provided the resources necessary to flourish—a life enraptured by boundless opportunity.
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In the wake of unforeseen revelations, Lauritz embraced the life of a typical, self-assured scion, reveling in the embrace of newfound passions and embarking on an uncharted journey tinged with the allure of possibility.
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ukrfeminism · 2 months
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Non-contact sex offences must be punished more harshly because flashers and voyeurs can turn into rapists, the mother of murdered student Libby Squire has said.
Libby, 21, was abducted, raped and murdered while walking home from a club in Hull in 2019.
Her killer, Pawel Relowicz, had committed other sexual crimes in the city's student area, watching young women through windows and breaking into their homes to steal intimate items.
Libby's mother, Lisa, told Sky News' The UK Tonight With Sarah-Jane Mee there was "quite clearly an escalation from the lower sort of crimes, right up until the weekend before he killed her, where he had escalated quite significantly".
Relowicz exposed himself to Libby just weeks before killing her, Mrs Squire believes.
She is now urging women to report non-contact offences, because that is the "only way we can spot them".
"Reporting is a massive part of it," she said. "And actually then taking action - the police taking action."
'Normal men don't do these things'
Mrs Squire added: "You're not making something out of nothing. It's not normal behaviour. Normal men don't do these things.
"It really is a big deal - the term lower-level sex offences diminishes it. They are sex offences. We need to completely change the way we look at these things and our attitudes towards them."
Speaking to MPs, Mrs Squire said sentencing needs to be harsher.
"It's a slap on the wrist for the majority of people if they're caught," she said. "It needs to be taken as the really serious offence it is.
"A short sharp slap is not going to work."
'I don't think he should ever get out of prison'
Mrs Squire told Sky News her daughter's killer, who was given a minimum term of 27 years, should never get out of prison.
"Originally, I wasn't really bothered about the sentence," she said. "That's definitely changed now. I don't think he should ever get out of prison.
"When he comes out, he'll be in his early fifties. He'll have the chance to travel, to maybe marry again, to have children, to have a job.
"He can do all those things that Libby never had the chance to do.
"Everybody knows you don't kill. You don't do that. So if you do that to me, you should then forfeit your life by spending the rest of it in prison."
Mrs Squire also believes that Relowicz may offend again, if and when he is released - after being incarcerated with other sex offenders.
"His life will be all about sex offences and I can't see any reason why he wouldn't come out and re-offend," she said.
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newbie-whovian · 2 years
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May I request ten x reader where ten meets someone (reader) who he thought he lost in the time war but they were just displaced in time. When they Rematerialize the TARDIS recognizes them and instead of taking the doctor to where he wanted to go it takes him to readers location and when ten sees her it’s like angst fluff? Because ten thought he would never see her again and that he was the last of the Time lords but she’s right there!! Sorry I’ve had this in my mind for a while lol
(Thank you for the request!! Ten is so great, I hope I've written him well)
Lost and Found - The Tenth Doctor x Reader
The Daleks were coming; the city's defenses had finally fallen, and the Doctor was nowhere to be found.
You ran through the ravaged streets of your home, hearing distant gravelly screeches of 'exterminate!' growing steadily closer. You shouted, "Doctor! Where in the hell are you?" as you turned corner after corner, and after what felt like an eternity, you had gotten yourself hopelessly lost in the maze of rubble.
An explosion rang out somewhere in the chaos behind you, and a burning TARDIS came crashing into the ruins of some unrecognizable building. You nearly disregarded it to continue your search, but a weak sound came from the wreckage, and your curiosity overcame you.
You could feel it trying to travel, its effort hanging like static in the air, and as you laid your hand on the hull, it took you with it.
The city around you began to dematerialize as the dying TARDIS flung you away into nothing. You tried to call for the Doctor but you disappeared before the words left your mouth.
-
The Doctor, in a younger body but older by a great many years, meandered his way around the console, waiting for inspiration to strike.
He stared down at the grating below his trainers as he swung one foot in front of the other, muttering aloud, "Been a while since I've been to Barcelona. Weather's dreadful though, too much sand." He ran a hand through his hair, causing it all to stand up on end in the funny way he liked. "Could visit Queen Elizabeth," he mused, thinking before screwing up his face and saying, "Naaah, I'll remember."
The TARDIS hummed at him vindictively and he protested, "Of course I will! And besides, time machine? It doesn't matter." He paced some more before stepping over to the console, muttering, "Fine, you win," flipping a number of switches and dials and sending them hurtling through the void.
-
You took in a huge gasp of air as your feet finally touched solid ground. The wind whipped across your face as you looked around to see nothing but open plains of white sand and a pink and orange sky.
You couldn't think of a single thing to do to try and get yourself back to Gallifrey, if there even was a Gallifrey once all of this nonsense was over. All you could see was sand, in all directions, and it was a small mercy that the sun was veiled by thick orange clouds.
You sighed and picked a direction, trudging through the soft sand towards nothing.
-
The TARDIS shuddered to a stop and the Doctor leapt up from his chair, clapping his hands together and saying, "Right!"
He strode towards his door and tugged on the lapels of his jacket, tugging open the door and rehearsing under his breath, "Hellooo Elizabeth! How've you been-"
He stepped out and the smile slid off of his face. "Hold on. No no no no, not sand!"
He looked around quickly and glared back at the TARDIS, saying, "This isn't England."
Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded behind him, and he froze.
"Hello? Who are you?"
His heart rose to his throat as he recognized the voice as yours, and he turned around slowly. He saw you standing in the sand, looking exactly the same as the day he'd lost you. But you wouldn't recognize him, he'd changed faces twice since then; he could only hope you would believe him.
"It's me… it's the Doctor, but… how?"
You recognized his 'police box' and narrowed your eyes at him, saying slowly, "I'm not sure… a dying TARDIS, I think…" Although your friend looked much different, you could still recognize the sadness behind his eyes; it had always broken your heart, how such a wonderful, imaginative person had to carry the weight of the universe so often. Tears welled in your eyes and you stepped forward, examining him and saying, "You've regenerated since then. Oh Rassilon, how long has it been? Too long, I imagine."
He moved to close the distance between you, his eyes glistening as he pulled you in for a hug. You returned the hug with a smile, blinking back tears.
"Two regenerations… I thought I was the only one left- I thought everyone else was gone-" he uttered, holding onto you like his life depended on it. You buried your face in his shoulder and he quickly picked you up, spinning around in the sand as you both laughed.
"I'm not the only one! Oh lord, you're a miracle!" he cheered, stumbling slightly before setting you down and cupping your face in his hands. "I have so much to tell you!"
He looked around with his nose wrinkled, sneering, "But not around all this blasted sand, cmon-!"
He grabbed your hand and led you into his TARDIS. "I was just on my way to meet Queen Elizabeth the First!"
You frowned and asked, "Who?"
"Oh, she's an Earth queen, and apparently, my wife," he said with a shrug, flipping various switches that you were sure didn't do anything but control the temperature of the pool.
You stood by him behind the console, saying, "Your wife, hm? Been a bit busy since I disappeared, eh?"
He shrugged again and wrapped an arm around your waist before saying, "Thought she was a Zygon, long story."
You shook your head with a wide smile. "You never change."
He returned your smile and gave you a kiss on the cheek, saying, "Now, Queen Elizabeth, or Barcelona?"
"I suppose we could do a little bit of both."
His smile widened and he pulled one of the levers, letting out a yell of "Allons-y!"
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beardedmrbean · 2 months
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A man who sexually assaulted a woman after she left a Hull nightclub has been jailed for seven-and-a-half years.
Shko Khdri, 28, of Walliker Street, Hull, attacked the woman in Carr Lane during the early hours of 19 September 2023.
The attack was captured on CCTV and Khdri was later arrested at his workplace, Humberside Police said.
On Tuesday, he was sentenced at Grimsby Crown Court after earlier pleading guilty to one count of sexual assault.
Officers said the woman fled to Paragon Street where she sought safety with a member of the public.
An image of Khdri, taken from the CCTV, was circulated and he was arrested three days after the attack.
After the hearing, Det Sgt Bethany Sergeant said: "Khdri is a sexual predator and I'm pleased he is now being punished for his unforgiveable actions.
"He subjected a woman to what I can only describe as a violent attack leaving her in fear of her own safety.
"I would like to commend the woman for her bravery throughout the entirety of the investigation and court proceedings. I hope today's outcome provides her with some comfort in knowing that Khrdi is unable to harm anybody else."
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the-broken-pen · 11 months
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Find the word game
Thank you @jay-avian for the tag you lovely human. These are a disjointed mess but the words are in there I swear.
Yes, that was the problem. Lex was right. And she hated him for it, for looking at her and the blood she left behind and somehow knowing that she had liked the silence of it, the thrill, the heart pounding act of destroying something. A building. A body. A life. But mostly, she hated herself. What messed up person enjoyed the thrill of murdering someone, and then going home to make blueprints for weapons so devastating they could destroy half a city?
They found her three hours later, leaning against a wall in some random corridor she had decided was quiet enough, faces grim as they pulled out restraints.
Rain smiled and offered up her wrists. “That took you less time than I thought it would. You must be getting faster at this.” One of the cops gave her a disgusted look, and she winked. “I really am an upstanding citizen then, pushing the police force to better themselves. Really, I should be commended-”
They took one last step forward, and the door to the warehouse slammed shut with a final, rattling thump.
“They’re going to die,” Melody whispered, and Jules didn’t disagree with her.
A second later, the screaming started. The camera was abandoned on the ground.
Minutes later, two faces appeared in front of the camera, torches materializing in their hands. They wore skull masks—one with the horns of a bull bending over their face, the other with a blank white oval painted with the claws and pincer of a scorpion.
There was a grim air to them as the light flickered over the shadows of their masks. There was blood speckled all over them.
“They want me to come back,” she said after a moment. “It’s an offer.”
Waters looked at the wounds deep and violently etched into the skin, deep trailing symbols covered in barely drying blood. Around them, the grass was splotched with blood in a massive pentagram, a star with seven sides. At the very top, dug into the grass so erratically there were clods of dirt flung everywhere, was the word ‘Mercy.’
Jules walked to it to get a better view, taking care not to step in the blood. Melody glanced down at the faceless body and stood to follow her.
When Lucy finally stopped tasting the sickening mixture of salt and iron on her tongue, Elira told the crew to wait half a mark more before swarming to the surface. When they did, they found sunshine dappling the planks of the hull, a slight breeze brushing against any bare skin.
Tag you’re it!! @imaginativemind29new @clairelsonao3
I’m too lazy to tag more people so it’s open season for anyone who wants to hunt for words!
(I’m proud of that pun)
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moonchild-things · 1 year
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Chapter Eleven: Crossroads
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Summary: Living in Detroit, the capital of androids, constantly reminds Natalie Tyler of the accident that changed her life for the worst. Her world is overturned after deciding to adventure out of her apartment and back into the cruel world. When androids start to peacefully protest for their rights, she is asked to work with a RK800 prototype android that goes by the name Connor.  
Word Count: 2565
Blog Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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DATE
NOV 9TH, 2038
TIME
PM 09:39:24
"ARE YOU SURE THAT YOU'LL BE ALL right?" Connor asked as he and Natalie stood just outside of the entrance to the hub of Jericho. The two of them were bundled up in thick coats and beanies now that they were outside. It wasn't like either of them could really get cold, but they had to act up the part as normal humans in order to get through the city. If they were caught by the police, there was no telling what would happen to either of them.
Connor had guided her to where Jericho was after they stopped by her apartment. She let Connor borrow some of Ethan's clothes so that way he would blend in easier on the streets. It wasn't like he was going to miss one of his old t-shirts, jeans or coat that he never wore. Of course, the man had been sleeping when Natalie and Connor arrived at the apartment and then left. That made it much easier for them to leave and find Jericho as fast as they could. Ethan certainly would have put up a fight about Natalie being involved in all of this. The last thing Natalie needed to add to her long list of worries is her younger brother fussing over her.
Natalie shook her head at the worry that he was exhibiting. She wasn't sure why he insisted on completing his mission. To her, she thought that Connor was already a deviant or at least on his way to being one. He needed that one last push to really send him off the edge. Perhaps this will be it, she hoped. "I'm a cyborg, I can pass as android here." She placed her hand in his to try and give him some reassurance. "No need to worry."
There was no way that Connor was just going to stop worrying considering what he was there to do. If he carried out his mission and the other deviants became violent towards him, there was a large possibility they would go after her as well. Her association with him would make her a target, and he didn't want to see her get hurt in any way. He pushed the thought away for the time being so he could focus on the task at hand. Though he didn't let go of her hand as they walked further into the ship.
Connor and Natalie then entered the ship's hull to be faced with dozens of deviants. Natalie wasn't able to tell how many exactly there were on the ship, but there were a lot. There were a few screens set up broadcasting the live news reports that were covering the story. The entire country must be watching what was happening.
Natalie gulped as she and Connor moved further into the room. There was constant, uneasy chatter among the androids as they watched the screens and listened to what was happening outside. They walked through the gaggles of androids to try and get to the upper floor. Connor had to find the leader of the group, Markus. Finding the leader and neutralizing it was his main mission right now. Of course, Natalie was there with him and considering she was against his directive, she wasn't sure what she'd do. 
She wanted to see these deviants survive through these trying times but at the same time, she wanted to help Connor. If he didn't do his work, there was a possibility of him being shut down for it. Natalie definitely didn't want that to happen.
Suddenly, a damaged android then grabbed Connor's shoulder who turned to face her. "You're lost. You're looking for something..." The android said, "You're looking for yourself..." The android, Lucy, then caught sight of the woman on Connor's other side. "And you are conflicted, stuck between worlds and falling apart."
Connor and Natalie shared a confused glance with each other at the android's words. They couldn't deny the way this strange android was easily able to read through them after only just looking at them. Connor brushed her hand off of his shoulder before the two headed up the stairs(hand-in-hand) to keep searching for Markus.
---
In the captain's cabin of the abandoned ship, Natalie and Connor were able to find the leader of the deviant group. Markus was with a few other androids that Natalie figured out the names of. North, Josh, and Markus argued about how they would go about their plan of action against humans. Natalie could tell that Josh was the pacifist of the group and would much rather have a peace plan. Meanwhile, North wanted to fight against humans and ignite a war that would only end in plenty of lives being lost on both sides. Natalie didn't like North that much from the way she wanted to cause violence. She was appalled to hear that she even had a dirty bomb to use against humans!
There was no way that humans would ever support any sort of help for the deviants if they tried to use something as destructive as a bomb. At the moment, Natalie had no respect for her. They obviously were stuck in the middle of a terrible situation, but turning to violence would only make things worse. She was glad that Markus shared the same idea and refused to use it. 
As Natalie listened in on their conversation, Connor closed his eyes to reappear in the Zen Garden. He faced Amanda who stared at him with the same blank expression as usual, "Well done, Connor." she commented, "You succeeded in locating Jericho and finding their leader. Now deal with Markus. We need it alive."
He reopened his eyes and found himself with a new objective:
STOP MARKUS
He pulled out a gun and rounded the corner of the wall to head into the cabin where Markus sat in contemplation. Natalie followed after him with hurried steps and honestly didn't know what to do. Should she intervein? Should she let this happen? She certainly couldn't let Connor shoot someone she considered a friend!
"I've been ordered to take you alive," Connor started as he and Natalie stared at the leader's back, "but I won't hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice."
Markus turned to find a gun pointed at him by the android investigator he had heard so much about. Not only that but one of his friends, his human friend, stood behind the android with a conflicted expression on her face. "What are you doing?" He asked while taking one small step forward. "You are one of us... You can't betray your own people..."
Connor bit the inside of his cheek, "Don't force me to neutralize you."
"We are your people. We're fighting for your freedom too! You don't have to be their slave anymore..." Connor didn't say anything, instead, a conflicted expression consumed his face. Natalie watched him from the doorway and had her fingers crossed. If Connor wasn't a deviant already, she knew that this was the turning point for him. Not only had he displayed emotions while around her and Hank, but he seemed to be having doubts, something an android shouldn't have. Markus continued on at Connor's silence, "We are your people. We're fighting for your freedom too! You don't have to be their slave anymore..." Connor couldn't say anything and stayed silent. "Do you never have any doubts? You've never done something irrational, as if there's something inside you?.. Something more than your program."
Connor said nothing again and almost had half the mind to glance back at Natalie. Yes, he did think that there was something else inside of him, more than just his stupid program. He made irrational decisions that went against his mission which all involved Natalie... Natalie. Just her name caused an imbalance in his programming. "Join us. Join your people. You are one of us. Listen to your conscience... It's time to decide."
Connor's hold on his gun wavered for a moment as he fought against his programming. He tore down every grind and the straight line that stood in the way of his own decisions and soon enough he was free. His mind was his own and he was no longer controlled by his missions. He turned the gun away from Markus as Natalie came up to his side. He looked over to her with a new light in his eyes that Natalie was excited to see. He was alive! 
I AM DEVIANT
Though the moment was cut short when Connor remembered an important detail. "They're going to attack Jericho..."
"What?.." Markus asked in alarm.
They were able to hear the distinct sound of helicopters swarming the airspace above the decaying ship. Units from the FBI were starting to storm into the ship in order to kill every and all androids within it. Sirens sounded from the dock as gunshots started to ring the air. 
"We have to get outta here!" Connor exclaimed as he grabbed Natalie's hand before the three of them started to dash out of the cabin.
Markus cursed, "Shit..."
---
As the three of them ran down one of the rusted corridors, North came running around a corner to them. "They're coming from all sides!" She said, "Our people are trapped in the hold, they're gonna be slaughtered!"
Markus made a quick decision and placed his finger on his temple to relay a message to every other android on the ship. "There are exits on the second and third floor. Find them and jump in the river!" He turned to North, "Where is Josh?"
She shook her head, "I don't know, we got separated."
Natalie's anxiety started to grow exponentially higher as she started to make her own observations. "They're coming from the upper deck now too. We'll be caught in the crossfire!"
Markus's lover started to beg him not that she knew they were in serious trouble. "We have to run, Markus! There's nothing we can do!"
Though the leader of this revolution ws not going to let anything deter him from trying to save his people. "We have to blow up Jericho. If the ship goes down, they'll evacuate and our people can escape!"
"You'll never make it!" She exclaimed, "The explosives are all the way down in the hold, there are soldiers everywhere!"
Connor pitched in his own opinion, "She's right! They know who you are. They'll do anything to get you!"
"Go and help the others." He instructed the trio. "I'll join you later." There was going to be no talking him out of this decision, they knew that now.
"Markus..." North tried to disagree but was cut off by his determine rebuttal.
"I won't be long." With one last meaningful look, Natalie, Connor, and North started to run down the corridor as Markus ran the other direction.
---
The trio ran through the corridors to try and get to the exits that Markus had spoken about. They ran as fast as they could due to the fact they could hear soldiers coming up from behind them, fast. 
They rounded a corner only to find the backs of about four soldiers facing them. They quickly hid behind the wall for cover. Connor peaked "We won't be able to get past them."
North shuddered, "We're trapped." 
Natalie's stomach ached as she realized that they truly were screwed. Though her eyes widened at a reckless and, possibly, idiotic thought popped into her mind. "I have an idea," Natalie rushed out as she grabbed a scrap piece of metal and raised it to her forehead. Before either of the androids could say anything, she used the sharp metal to cut her skin, the skin that was still human. A considerable amount of blood started to gush from the self-inflicted wound as she turned to the androids. "I can buy you time and distract them. You guys go around them, got it."
Connor protested, "Natalie, no-"
"I'll be okay." With that, she dashed around the corner to face the soldiers. "Help! I'm human! Please!" The soldiers snapped in her direction with their guns raised and one of them fired at her. She ducked out of the way and avoided the bullet which easily brought their attention to the red blood dripping down half of her face, "Stop, please. I'm a CyberLife engineer!"
They rushed over to her and looked over her injured head that obviously showed she was a human and not an android. As they paid attention to her, the androids tried to sneak past them as quickly as they could.
"Stay close to us." One of the soldiers ordered the supposed human. Natalie nodded her head as she kept a close eye on the two androids who were easily able to get past the soldiers. Once she made sure that Connor and North were safe, Natalie backed away from the soldiers and dashed away to safety. 
She rounded another corner and ran straight into Connor's arms, who had been waiting for her to come back. For reasons that he had yet to understand, he held her close for a moment and savored the fact that he was able to hold her. His artificial heart was rapidly beating in his chest at the anxiety that flooded his system after she had put herself into harm's way.
"Don't do that again," he chastised her before they turned to run again.
Natalie gave out a strained yet relieved laugh, "Sure thing, Connor!"
---
"Markus!" North exclaimed as the deviant himself approached them from behind. He had set up the bomb in the hull of the ship to explode and they had limited time to get out before it exploded. He noticed that Josh was with Natalie, Connor, and North and was relieved to see that he had found them.
"Bomb's gonna explode any second." He explained to them, "We gotta get out of here!"
They started to run once again and jumped over holes and other obstacles that were in their way. Almost home free, North was suddenly shot in the leg and collapsed to the ground. Markus instantly turned and ran towards her to try and save her.
"Fire at will!"
Bullets started to rain from the group of soldiers as Markus dodged them and approached his fallen lover. He grabbed a large piece of stray metal and used it as a shield before tossing it to North for protection. He rolled over to her and jumped up at the soldiers to initiate hand to hand combat. He punched and dodged the soldiers before grabbing one of their guns and shooting one of them as North dealt with the other one.
More soldiers started to come running down the corridor at them, "Contact! Contact! Hostiles engaged!"
"Over there!" Markus shouted as he grabbed North by her waist to help her walk, "Run!"
"Go! Now!" A soldier shouted before Connor raised his gun and started to shoot at them to give Markus and North some cover. With expert and calculated moves, he used the shield to protect himself before attack the last few soldiers and killing every one of them by shooting them.
"Run, quick!"  Markus ushered them to the edge of the hole in the ship. "Come on!" The group then jumped out of the ship and into the freezing water below to safety.
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chaoticrebels · 1 year
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✩༺♥༻✩ ━ She'd killed him.... Nancy's hands shook as she ran. Her lungs burned for air. She'd been in Atlanta for college orientation. Her family had been there to visit the campus and drop her off. That had been three days ago. Her parents and Holly had been killed early on. She and Mike had hulled up in her dorm room. He'd gone out for help yesterday and she hadn't found him. Not until today.  She'd used her last bullet to put him out of his misery. Now her fingers trembled as she locked herself in the cab of an eighteen wheeler, tucking herself into the floorboards so the walkers couldn't see her. Turning on the CB radio, she just hoped someone would hear her. "Hello....? Hello anyone please? I need help... I don't want to die...." 
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✪ 。゜ ⠀ ☆ 。゜ ⠀ ★ Answered » { Nancy }
✦ —   * ⠀ / ⠀ 𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 ⠀﹕⠀ ❪ @guiltcarried​​ ❫
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When the world went to hell, Daryl had been hunting with his father and half uncle. Just getting back to the city was a challenge but the male had managed, had even found his brother until he lost him again in a chaotic moment. So now here he was searching for him again, which had lead him to a police station. He was trying to help out the best he could when he heard a call come over the CB, causing him to grab it. ❝Hello, I hear you loud and clear. I’ll be glad to help but first, I need your location..❞ The male didn’t know the female’s situation but she sounded so scared so the least he could do was rescue her, well if he could get to her.
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adsthumbsblog · 2 years
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Real Estate In Costa Rica
In the last years, an increasing number of American, Canadian and European investors have turned their eyes toward Costa Rica growing Real Estate Market. Forced by their restrictively expensive domestic property markets plus the volatility and insecurity of existing equity markets, investors have found in our country an outstanding alternative for investment.
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Costa Rica has been by tradition a democratic and peaceful Central America country. Costa Rica is famous for its neutrality over past and present conflicts in the area, recognized by the world community when the President Oscar Arias received the Nobel Peace Price in 1987 and mentioned in the CIA World Fact Book as "a Central America success story".
Costa Ricans, also known as "ticos" happily boasts that Costa Rica is so peaceful that it does not need an army, and has more teachers than police officers!
Since it is a stable country with extreme natural beauty, more and more people are looking into Costa Rica for a new home or a second home abroad on the growing Costa Rican property market.
Even though Costa Rica current boom on real estate has caused for an inflation of prices, land and house prices in the country are very affordable with prices not even close to those in the United States, Canada or the United Kingdom. Up and above the country strong resale market, currently luxury beachfront developments can start as low as US$80,000 or prices starting just from US$250,000 for detached homes on sizeable plots.
Currently, over 50,000 United States' citizens live in Costa Rica. Besides, Unites States brokers can easily arrange finance for property purchase in Costa Rica, since the United States government considers this country to be a politically and economically stable country.
Foreigners may find in Costa Rica a way of life very similar to the Western or American standards, which strive on a good quality lifestyle. The people moving into our country enjoy the benefit of good infrastructure, excellent communications and good standard of services. Other advantages for those interested on relocating in Costa Rica are the relatively low cost of living, the excellent health care services up to par with American standards, a high education and literacy standards, very good command of English language by most Costa Ricans and a strong and stable economy based on agriculture, science and technology, and tourism.
An added benefit for investors in real estate in Costa Rica or for those looking to move to the country is the favorable low tax regime the country has adopted, and the fact that property ownership rights in Costa Rica for non-residents or foreigners are unrivalled to those in the rest of the countries of Central and Latin America region.
The boom that Costa Rica is experiencing on the real estate market has not upset the overall picture of the country, as its economy is not reliant exclusively on real state, meaning that it will remain stable and property prices are not artificially talked up.
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sohannabarberaesque · 2 years
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An editorial: Whither Hanna-Barbera?
With Warner Bros. having just concluded its merger of Discovery Networks, thereby making the company Warner Media Discovery, whispers have emerged of late in certain areas of animation as are suggesting that its animation division, WB Animation, may be seeking to deemphasise children's or family-oriented animation production such as the HBO Max series Jellystone!, now in its second series with a third in production, yet rumoured to be cancelled because of "budget cuts."
Which, if anything, borders on an insult to the greater Hanna-Barbera legacy which Jellystone! seeks to encapsulate to a newer generation whose parents were likely brought up on the flicktoonry of William Hanna and Joseph Barbera's studio in Hollywood's Cahuenga Pass neighbourhood on Saturday-morning television (and sometimes as part of local hosted children's shows airing after school). And remember, too, that it was Hanna and Barbera, after being let go from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer studios, whence they created the Tom and Jerry franchise in 1940 (winning seven Oscars for Best Animated Short as well), in 1957, who actually managed to save animation from near-extinction with such techniques as actually demonstrated the viability from a cost standpoint of animation for the fast-rising medium of television.
(However, understand that Hanna-Barbera did not create the concept of animation for television: Credit Jay Ward--yes, the same Jay Ward as would later create Rocky and Bullwinkle--and Jerry K. Fairbanks for such with their creation of Crusader Rabbit for first-run syndication in 1950, whose animation, by modern standards, was probably rather primitive.)
At any rate, the point is this: For what some animation purists would call a cheap and at turns kitschy look, the products of Hanna-Barbera Productions in their Luscious Glory at 3400 Cahuenga are, and ought be seen as, one with America's Great Cultural Heritage and Identity, never mind what cultural conservatives with their minds in Branson, Missouri more than likely want us thinking. Not to mention an important part of American television history and heritage; as a matter of fact, within weeks of Huckleberry Hound's debut in first-run syndication in 1958, Huckleberry Hound and Yogi Bear quickly took the country by storm, what with bars in many cities having signs warning patrons not to clink their glasses or otherwise make loud noise while Huck was on, Huckleberry Hound being adopted by a number of colleges and universities and their fraternities as a mascot of sorts, and even an island in the Antarctic being so named.
Too, Hanna-Barbera's influence was international in a way: The Cycling and Jazz Club in Hull, England rebranded themselves as the Yogi Bear Club, and membership exploded. Thanks to the popularity of Top Cat (rebranded Boss Cat in England's Green and Pleasant Land to avoid "commercial associations" such as the BBC frowns upon in the name of God, Queen and Commonwealth), "dibble" (as in TC's main protagonist, Officer Charlie Dibble) has become slang for a police officer, especially so in the North of England (notably so in Lancanshire and around Manchester and Carlisle). And for some reason, The Banana Splits are recognised in Britain as one with the Mod Generation of mid-late 1960's/early 1970's pop culture.
*************
At any rate, the point is this: However cheesy and campy Hanna-Barbera's animations may have looked on the TV, be it on Saturday morning or otherwise, and for all the ad nauseum unease parents may have had about how TV was "dulling our children," Hanna-Barabera Productions' legacy in American television history, American pop culture, animation history even, ought not be reduced to a mere footnote or otherwise slighted just for corporate interest.
To the contrary, such are deserving of due and proper respect among us Old Hanna-Barberians as were so brought up in our otherwise Wasted and Dissolute Youth.
And which Warner Media Discovery needs to recognise.
Should they choose not to, and rather wash their hands, Pilate-fashion, of such a rich, fascinating and otherwise esoteric part of our pop culture legacy--especially by invoking the notion of such being "no longer economically viable" or otherwise "incompatible with current business models"--they may want to consider one of two options:
Put the remains of the Hanna-Barbera legacy, including its film library, licencing and merchandising rights and all that jazz, into a special legacy aimed at maintaining the integrity of the studio's creations and creative heritage.
Give Disney "the finger," so to speak, by releasing the Hanna-Barbera Productions legacy (including Tom and Jerry, Spike and Tyke, Droopy and Dribble and Barney Bear) into the public domain (cf. musical satirist Tom Lehrer releasing his musical catalogue thus a couple years back), hoping such could be given new life thus.
At anye rate, Warner Media Discovery needs to recognise that, in acquiring the Hanna-Barbera legacy from Turner Entertainment some years back, such is an important (howbeit esoteric) part of the Great American Cultural Identity on many fronts. A part too important to slight or trivialise.
HANNA-BARBERA FOREVER!
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if-you-fan-a-fire · 2 years
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"COMMISSION OPENS HEARING ON INTERNED COMMUNISTS," Toronto Star. September 29, 1942. Page 3. ---- Secretary of the Communist party in Canada (LEFT), and 12 other leaders met in the law office of J. L. Cohen (RIGHT) yesterday and notified R.C.M.P. that they would surrender themselves in a group, as all have been sought for two and a half years under Defence of Canada Regulations. The head of the Communist party in Canada issued this statement: "I and my associates have decided, in the interest of national unity, to appear voluntarily before the authorities so as to appeal against the internment orders which now prevent us from giving our full energy to strengthening the country's war effort." Their cases will appear before a board of appeal in Toronto Tuesday.
"TIM BUCK SEEKS FREEDOM AS TRIBUNAL SITS IN JAIL," Toronto Star. September 29, 1942. Page 3. ---- Party Secretary and 14 Others Are Heard in Appeal Arguments === COHEN IS COUNSEL --- The special board of appeal set up to hear the case of Tim Buck, general secretary of the Communist party, and 15 other Communist leaders began sittings in Toronto Jail today. Hearings are being held in a large room where once persons were kept who couldn't pay their debts.
Years ago when it was illegal not to pay a debt, persons owing money were taken to Don jail under a warrant and were confined to the room, where the hearing was held today They had to supply their own bedding and provide their meals while they "paid off their debt."
J. L. Cohen, counsel for the men held on internment orders after their surrender last Friday, said the case of Tim Buck would be heard first. The Communist secretary, although represented at the hearing by Mr. Cohen, was expected to address the commission personally and present arguments in favor of his immediate release.
The commission consists of Judge Donald Miller of Hull, Que, Prof. Charles Cochran University of Toronto and A. S. Simpson, Winnipeg labor leader.
Mr. Cohen said he had no idea how long the hearings would last and that it depended on how wide would be their scope. Such hearings were long at one time, but recently, when he argued the cases of the Hull internees, seven were held in one day and the men's release expedited.
In Good Spirits Scheduled to start the hearing at 10 a.m.. the commissioners were late in arriving and when they got there learned that their official court reporter was ill and would not be able to attend. Mr. Cohen offered the services of his secretary if no substitute could be arranged.
As the commission arrived, Tim Buck and his associates were exercising in the jail yard. All were reported in good spirits.
Hearings will be private. Detective Dan Mann of the Toronto police special branch: Corp G.. Archer and Constables Hogg and Spriggs of the R.C.M.P., will attend. Arrangements were being made for the commission to eat a special meal in jail.
One of the commissioners said: "The minister of justice asks that there be the least possible publicity."
Mr. Cohen arrived at the jail 20 minutes before the hearing was scheduled to begin and interviewed Mr. Buck.
In the past, hearings of this type were held in a city hall courtroom, but it was reported they were ordered held in the jail by the justice department, which it is said, wanted to avoid any demonstration by public appearances of the arrested men. There was no one outside the jail as the hearings started.
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brookstonalmanac · 4 days
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Events 4.26 (before 1950)
1336 – Francesco Petrarca (Petrarch) ascends Mont Ventoux. 1478 – The Pazzi family attack on Lorenzo de' Medici in order to displace the ruling Medici family kills his brother Giuliano during High Mass in Florence Cathedral. 1564 – Playwright William Shakespeare is baptized in Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickshire, England (date of birth is unknown). 1607 – The Virginia Company colonists make landfall at Cape Henry. 1721 – A massive earthquake devastates the Iranian city of Tabriz. 1777 – Sybil Ludington, aged 16, allegedly rode 40 miles (64 km) to alert American colonial forces to the approach of the British regular forces 1794 – Battle of Beaumont during the Flanders Campaign of the War of the First Coalition. 1802 – Napoleon Bonaparte signs a general amnesty to allow all but about one thousand of the most notorious émigrés of the French Revolution to return to France. 1803 – Thousands of meteor fragments fall from the skies of L'Aigle, France; the event convinces European scientists that meteors exist. 1805 – First Barbary War: United States Marines captured Derne under the command of First Lieutenant Presley O'Bannon. 1865 – Union cavalry troopers corner and shoot dead John Wilkes Booth, assassin of President Abraham Lincoln, in Virginia. 1900 – Fires destroy Canadian cities Ottawa and Hull, reducing them to ashes in 12 hours. Twelve thousand people are left without a home. 1903 – Atlético Madrid Association football club is founded 1915 – World War I: Italy secretly signs the Treaty of London pledging to join the Allied Powers. 1916 – Easter Rising: Battle of Mount Street Bridge. 1920 – Ice hockey makes its Olympic debut at the Antwerp Games with center Frank Fredrickson scoring seven goals in Canada's 12–1 drubbing of Sweden in the gold medal match. 1923 – The Duke of York weds Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon at Westminster Abbey. 1925 – Paul von Hindenburg defeats Wilhelm Marx in the second round of the German presidential election to become the first directly elected head of state of the Weimar Republic. 1933 – The Gestapo, the official secret police force of Nazi Germany, is established by Hermann Göring. 1937 – Spanish Civil War: Guernica, Spain, is bombed by German Luftwaffe. 1942 – Benxihu Colliery accident in Manchukuo leaves 1549 Chinese miners dead. 1943 – The Easter Riots break out in Uppsala, Sweden. 1944 – Georgios Papandreou becomes head of the Greek government-in-exile based in Egypt. 1944 – Heinrich Kreipe is captured by Allied commandos in occupied Crete. 1945 – World War II: Battle of Bautzen: Last successful German tank-offensive of the war and last noteworthy victory of the Wehrmacht. 1945 – World War II: Filipino troops of the 66th Infantry Regiment, Philippine Commonwealth Army, USAFIP-NL and the American troops of the 33rd and 37th Infantry Division, United States Army liberate Baguio as they fight against the Japanese forces under General Tomoyuki Yamashita.
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lexlawuk · 7 days
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Winding-Up Petition: Legacy Independent Funeral Directors Ltd
Amidst an ongoing police investigation into Legacy Independent Funeral Directors (the “Company”), Hull City Council (the “Council”) has taken legal action by presenting a winding up petition against the Company. Petition CR-2024-001640 was presented to the Court on 18 March 2024 and contains allegations of substantial unpaid debt owed to the Council, including cremation fees. A court hearing to…
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real-news-20 · 2 months
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British Ship Sinks After Missile Strike in Gulf of Aden; Houthi Involvement Suspected
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A British-flagged cargo ship, the MV Britannia, sank in the Gulf of Aden after a suspected missile attack. Initial reports suggest Yemeni Houthi rebels may be responsible, marking a dramatic escalation of tensions in the volatile region.
Dramatic Footage Emerges
Grainy video circulating online appears to show the moment of impact. A streak of light slams into the Britannia’s hull, followed by a massive explosion and towering flames. Rescue efforts are underway, but the fate of the crew remains uncertain.
Geopolitical Implications
The attack, if confirmed as a Houthi strike, has far-reaching implications. It raises concerns about maritime safety in a crucial waterway and could disrupt global trade routes. The incident is likely to fuel condemnation of the Houthi group and may prompt military responses from Western allies.
History of Conflict
Yemen’s complex civil war, fueled by proxy conflicts between Iran and Saudi Arabia, has destabilized the region for years. The Houthis have previously targeted shipping in the Red Sea and Gulf of Aden.
Statement from UK Government
The British government has issued a strongly worded statement promising a thorough investigation and pledging to hold those responsible accountable.
Important Notes:
Fictional Scenario: Emphasize that this is a hypothetical scenario. No such attack has been confirmed.
Responsibility: Avoid definitively blaming any group without verified evidence.
Sensitivity: Conflicts in Yemen are complex and involve loss of life. Maintain respectful language.
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NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM,  BOOK THREE: WARMER - CHAPTER 26
If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …
Book 3 Chapter 1 is here …
MPORTANT:  Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.
If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:  KESLA
It’s an unusually cold morning for Untermer, but the mist that’s rolled in overnight wasn’t unexpected as a result, especially since it’s so overcast.  It’s a damp, pregnant start to the day as the dawn starts to roll in particularly grey and drab, but ‘least it ain’t raining.  Not yet.  I get the feeling that’s on the way.
The mist’s actually a good thing.  We ain’t quite up to no good, but I’m sure the local authorities wouldn’t exactly approve of what we intend to do here on the docks.  Up here in First Point, where the wealthier end of the residential spectrum of Untermer see most of their import and export business done, things tend to be more strictly policed than further down the wharves.  A mile down the crescent you’re as likely to get a knife in the guts for just walking round without paying attention.  ‘Least up here there’s actual rules to follow.
The weather ain’t slowed business down any, I noticed.  The rolling mists just make it harder to tell exactly what’s going on out there beyond the roiling grey billows, just odd shifting shadows in the lightening murk that loom and then vanish along with muffled sounds making it even harder to keep track of anything.  There’s still ships docking and setting out, hulls being packed or emptied, cargoes rolled in or hefted out using strong backs and a whole lot o’ cursing.  The day starts early here, while those who been sweating on the night shifts are just now starting to pack up their gear to shuffle off for the pubs or just limp home for a good long sleep or much needed early supper.  Means we ain’t alone out here in the clammy murk.
That’s good, though.  We can move round out here without necessarily giving ourselves away if anybody is looking out for us.  And with this cold soup cloaking our cautious approach, it’ll be all the harder for ‘em to spot us anyway.
The warehouse looks largely closed down, the windows boarded up and the whitewash peeling badly, while the masonry’s grown unusually cracked, worn and grubby for these climes, even for down here on the docks.  The big main doors are still solid, but they’re pretty effectively locked, with thick chains wrapped across ‘em and bolted in tight, sealed up with some of the most massive padlocks I ever come across.  Reckon they’re designed specifically to deter Thieves Guild and the like, cuz they look serious.
The sign above the doors says Hardward, but just barely, like everything else the paint’s mostly gone, the word itself a mere faded ghost barely visible on the dry, split, flaking boards.  There were some other words painted on the sign too, but these have long since disappeared, just the odd arch, dot or speck here or there to even show they were there in the first place.  Even in the cold, blurry haze I can see how thoroughly neglected this whole place is, but the sign in particular.  Which just makes me all the more certain that this is definitely the place.
It's too decrepit and rundown, certainly for this part of the city.  Every other place we’ve passed on the way down in First Point has been well-maintained, proper spiffy even in some cases.  Seems that, even though these are working joints with a lot o’ rough, salty folk coming in and out, they’re determined to keep up appearances.  This place, sat in the middle of it all, is such a genuine eyesore, you almost gotta wonder why anyone else even puts up with it.  It’s bringing the whole side down.
But that’s kinda the point, I reckon.  It looks abandoned, but I ain’t fooled.  There’s still lights burning inside, I can just about see that through the grimy, cracked glass we can barely make out behind the boards, and there’s no rust on the chains, or those heavy duty locks in particular.  Given how much salt’s in the air out here that’s impressive enough on its own, and a dead giveaway.  No, this is definitely the place.
Pulling back while still keeping an eye on the big main doors but, more especially, the sheltered side-door three steps down in a little nook off to the side, I give Art a little wave to follow.  Since he’s ten feet on my left I don’t really see the sidelong glance he must be making my way through the mist, but I catch the nod he gives well enough to pass, and take a few more cautious steps backwards until I’m comfortable enough with the obscuring haze to finally turn away.  Staying low with my hand firmly gripping my sword hanging at my hip, I scurry back to cover.  Trusting Art’s doing the same, cuz I sure as hell can’t hear him.
Thirty feet further off, I see the old fisherman’s tackle shack starting to materialise outta the gloom.  The mist ain’t thinning yet, but the light in the east is definitely growing a good deal brighter now, muted shades of orange and bruised pinks vaguely filtering through the grey now, so the sun’s definitely on the rise now.  Give it another hour or so and the mist’ll be mostly burned off.
I cut to the right as I approach the hulking spectre of the shack, and remembering that Art’s coming in from the side keeps me from drawing on the figure silently hustling out of the murk.  I slow enough to give him a cursory look and his narrowed eyes widen a fraction when he finally spots me, and he nods, looking a little non-plussed as I start cutting round the side o’ the squat single-storey building.
The creak of Yeslee’s tightening bowstring is the only warning I get as she draws when I slip round the corner, but it’s enough to set my heart pounding as I tense and raise my hands, hissing quietly to announce myself.  I don’t see her though, only Darwyn as she steps out from inside the doorway, sliding her knife back into its sheath as she registers it’s me.  When he emerges behind me Art’s largely oblivious to the threat.  Two beats later Shay follows, having darted in similarly quietly from the other side.
Thankfully I hear the easing creak of her bowstring as Yes relaxes again as I make my way further round, navigating cluttered stacks of coiled rope and empty lobster-pots and whatever other detritus has been piled the salt-rotted decking.  She finally steps out a moment later, slotting her arrow back in her quiver, and gives me a cool look.
“What?  Ain’t like you didn’t know I was coming back.”
“Yes, well this weather is not helping my nerves.”  She growls back, not a hint of humour in her voice.
Trying not to roll my eyes, I just take in the others.  Zuldrad’s absent, having headed off on the far side to try scouting round the back, but I asked Big Man to keep an eye on him all the same, just in case anything happened.  The golem’s still stood in the exact same place as when I left, hunkered down in the shadow of the eaves near the back of the building, but I can make out his baleful red glare easily enough through the thin haze.
Tulen steps up on my left, Krakka shadowing her, but Lady Naru remains where she is, close to Big Man, leaning slightly into her staff as she watches me approach with a cool expression of her own.  After a moment I realise there’s one of us missing.  “Where’s Brung?”
“Above you.”  Driver 8 rumbles at his lowest, which is still enough for the decking to tremble.
Looking up, I catch sight of his sharp yellow stare as he hovers just short of the eaves, craning down at me.  I fight off the urge to shudder, but I can’t quite help it all the same, that’s just a little unsettling to me.
“Right.  Well this is definitely it.  Far as I can tell don’t look like there’s anybody out front watching, but from what I could see there’s definitely something inside.”  I turn back to Driver 8.  “You’re sure nobody’s guarding it?”
“I cannot sense anyone either patrolling the perimeter or watching from above on the roofing.  However, I still cannot perceive anything of the interior.”
“Great.”  I growl the word low, unable to keep from giving the sword a little squeeze.  That still don’t fill me with any confidence, the fact that when we arrived Big Man couldn’t make out anything inside the warehouse itself just creeped me out, and it’s not gotten any better since.  Far as I’m concerned that’s just a major red flag.
“You think maybe we should call this off?”  Darwyn’s frowning hard as she looks past me in the general direction of the place, since there’s no way she could possibly make it out in this.  “Feels a whole lot like a trap to me.”
Frustratingly, Darwyn definitely has a point.  The last time we ran into something like this, a genuine blind-spot in the golem’s strange, supernaturally powerful sensory capabilities, we almost got ourselves killed.  When I look to Shay now I can see she’s frowning back towards the warehouse now – she was on the other side o’ that particular engagement, but I filled her in on the anomaly since so she knows it’s a worrying sign.
Unfortunately, it really don’t make any actual difference.  We still gotta go in there.  By every indicator we run into looking into this, Gael has to be in there, likely her father too.  And, if that’s the case, probably a whole lot of other folks all need rescuing too.  ‘Well as plenty we need to kill.
“Shit.”  I reach up, and almost brush my hands up over my hair, but manage to stop myself in time.  I greased my hair before we set out, slicking it with the oily black mixture I keep in the pot in my ready kit to keep it plastered back over my skull and well out my eyes, and I use it to paint my face the way I always do too.  Just that simple wide band o’ black across my eyes, but it’s always done the trick in the past, usually having a hell of an effect on most o’ my opponents when we come face-to-face.
So I just shake my hands out as I lower ‘em again and grit my teeth in cold frustration.  “Yeah, we ain’t got a choice.  We still gotta go in.”  I suck a hard breath through my teeth and turn to Lady Naru.  “What d’you reckon?”
She ponders for a moment, gripping her staff a little tighter, before finally giving a particularly non-committal shrug.  “I don’t know enough about the functions of a golem to be able to make a truly educated guess, but I would imagine there’s some form of magical dampener in there.  I have no means of establishing what kind it is, though.  It might simply be designed to prevent outside observation, or it may be intended to obstruct or entirely deaden any magical effects within its radius.”
Nodding, I look back through the haze to where I know the warehouse is, without being able to actually see it.  “That’s about what I expected.  That’ll be Tavarrat, won’t it?”
“I would imagine so, yes.”
“Lovely.”  The rogue wizard’s always seemed like bad news to me, but since I had that little conversation with Saxiros before we headed out I’m learning to be a whole lot more nervous about her now.  This new development’s a particularly problematic kink, but not much of a surprise.
Luthan Tavarrat is something of a sticking point with the Silver Order, the impression the Dragonhalf official gave me was that she’s another one of the shameful little secrets they’d rather keep buried, although more like Ashsong than Shay’s friend Garnon.  Not quite so much of a monster as the former Academy faculty member-turned-warlock, but bad enough to worry us.  That being said, once they had the name those he contacted were somewhat surprised that he was even asking.  Turns out that, far as the Order knows, she’s already dead.
When I mentioned that to the others, those who remember the story of Ashsong as we know it – Art, Krakka, Shay, Yeslee and Big Man, mostly – thought this was becoming a worryingly common occurence, and further confirmation that we clearly stumbled into something a lot more worrying than we expected.  In a way this makes finding out what the hell Vandryss even is all the more important for the bigger picture.
The problem is, once upon a time, Tavarrat was very much like Gael.  When she came to the Academy she had high hopes, and soon enough her teachers developed similar faith in her future.  She advanced quickly through every course of study she was enrolled in, particularly excelling in the fields of Transmutation and Elemental Evocation – whatever the hell those are – and became well-versed in physical combat, becoming a true expert in a few of the more intrinsically defensive weapons disciplines.  It came as no surprise to anyone, then, that when she graduated with full honours she chose to go into public service, going out into the wider world to serve those in need as a practical spellcaster.
At first, everything went well.  She served with honour and integrity in the field, bringing multiple threats to heel and saving many lives in the first decade of her service.  Then her wanderings finally brought her home to Untermer, and this was where the first cracks appeared.  No-one knows why she started to slip, but given what I’ve learned through our experiences of Vandryss, her people, and Hontiresk in particular, I suspect she came under the influence of something her education and experiences hadn’t prepared her for.  An influence she likely didn’t even realise was an actual threat until it was too late to fight.
Whatever led to her fundamental change, she started to head down a dark road not long after finding her way home.  Small things at first, occasionally using her influence or powers to benefit criminal enterprises for hire – I suspect, thinking about it, that Vik likely had a hand in this, or perhaps Hontiresk himself, or those he associates with – but it became more of a pressing issue when her arcane strongarming led to a particularly messy incident and the Order had to start paying attention.  She was given an administrative slap on the wrist, and for a time it seemed to have worked, but given where she ended up more likely she just got better at hiding her involvement after that.  Then three people died, down in the Speartip, the bottom of the Drumhalt where it reaches the docks,  and they couldn’t ignore the problem any more …
They tried to call her in, but she refused to come.  No-one who knew her in the Order understood what the hell was going on with her, but more so why she would so blatantly refuse a request to return to the Citadel.  But there was nothing more that could be done, they made a decision in her absence instead, and she was fully expelled from the Order, and marked as an arcane threat to public safety.
A team was sent out to Untermer an hour later.  They had strict orders, to take her alive if at all possible for transport back to the Citadel to face judgement and punishment for her crimes, but if this proved impossible … well, anybody who’s faced off against warlocks or liches in the past can see where that was going.  And her future didn’t look good either way – even if she were to be brought in and judged, the likelihood of her survival was pretty slim given what she’d done, or ‘least been responsible for.  People died, innocents from the sound of it.  According to Saxiros, this weren’t self-defence, she had no excuse, no way to argue her way out of it.  Her best case scenario would’ve been freezing in a block of black enchanted glass somewhere down in the catacombs under the Citadel, treated no different from any other monstrous supernatural danger to the world at large.
Four of the operatives sent to bring her in died in the attempt, and after that the survivors had no choice.  As far as they knew, she was blasted into ash, long with half a building.  She was supposed to be dead.  And yet …
Altogether it’s setting a worrying trend for the Order, at least in our association.  First Ashsong, now this, and together with whatever the hell Vandryss’ deal is, this is genuinely worrying.  Saxiros sent his concerns along the proper channels, but discretely, taking care to contact only those he can be confident are safe.  Mistress Thermyse is, of course, top o’ that list.  He ain’t heard back yet, but I don’t doubt they’re all nervous as we are now.
Meanwhile, looks like she’s continuing to be a major thorn in our sides in our current endeavours.  I look to Tulen now, finding the dragonhalf stood by with a troubled look on her face.  She reaches up now, brushing hair from her face in a particularly self-conscious gesture, and when she realises I’m watching her it takes a moment for her to comfortably meet my eyes.
“Tulen?”
“Yes?”  She jumps a little, even though she knows full well she’s being addressed.
“Calm down, lass.  We’re all friends here.”  I take a step closer to her, trying to seem friendly as I can now in the hopes of putting her more at ease.  I don’t know if it’s just nerves or her own growing worry for Gael that’s working her up so much, but she’s getting proper high-strung cuz of it.  “Y’know anything about this kinda stuff?  I dunno exactly, but I figured given what Gael told us you did for jour job at the Citadel …”
“Oh.”  She frowns a little, thinking, then her eyes widen.  “Oh!  Yes, of course.  Yes … um … well I suppose I could …”  She blinks, looking past me now.  “But I don’t see how … I mean I don’t think I could … not from here, at least.”  She looks to me again, growing scattered again.  “Um …”
Frowning myself, I look the others over for a long beat, then finally nod.  “Yeah, fair enough.  Well I’m coming with you.  Art, you still with us?”
“Course I am, boss.”  He’s checking his gear over again, looking like he’s raring to go now.  “I wanna be in there much as you do.”
“Fine.”  I turn to regard Shay, who nods before I even say anything.
“Definitely.”
“All right.”  Thinking on it for a moment longer, I turn back to Lady Naru.  “You too.  Long as you’re okay with that.”
“Whyever would I not be?”  She cocks a brow as she answers me, picking her staff up from where she’s been leaning lightly against it.  “I would have insisted anyway.”
“Fair enough.”  I grin at that, although it’s likely no more humorous than I feel right now, more of a warrior’s expression now as I smell the coming fight.  I take a step back and look down at myself now, checking my gear over too, preparing for what’s pretty much guaranteed to come within the next few minutes.
I thought about maybe changing out my half-plate into da’s repaired armour, especially after hearing how well Shay’s beautiful suit served her both when they caught Vik and, more recently, on the Heath, but in the end time seemed too pressing.  Instead I just swapped out my bracers and my boots too, strapping my old greaves on just to be sure, and gave my sword a quick once-over.  I was surprised that strike I accidentally dealt that magical shield didn’t do any real damage to it, all I ultimately had to do was sharpen the edges a little and work out a few little scratches where I suspect it hit hardest, then just give the steel a good polish.  My axes barely even needed looking at, and I just strapped ‘em right back on after along with my sword.  Then I set about making myself look good and fierce like I almost always do before a serious scrap.
I reach over my shoulder now and slip the right-hand axe free again, giving it a tight, cautious little flourish, mostly just to get myself in the mood.  Finally I nod, more to myself than anyone else, and I’m ready.
“Sure you don’t want me to come?”  Yeslee surprises me, the way she’s right at my side without me noticing her approach impressing me just as much as it ever does.  She’d look as cool and stoic to most anybody else as she always does, but I can pick up on the indicators all the same, she’s a touch nervous just like me, and most o’ the others too.
“No.  I want you back here, along with Big Man.  Either me or Art’ll signal if we need anybody to come in hot, and to be honest if that is the case reckon it’d be best if it was Big Man heading that charge.  Don’t you?”
She frowns just a little at that, but then nods.  Behind her, Driver 8 takes a few slow, careful steps out from under his cover and approaches.  “Where do you need me?  If it becomes necessary for me to intervene.”
“Honestly, you might as well just power right through the main doors if you’re comin’.”  I try not to grin at the thought, I know he’ll do immense damage and he’ll be terrifying to whoever’s in there as he’ll be unstoppable, but if we do need him after all we might be in a tighter spot than I’d really like.
“Very well.”  He can’t nod, not really, but something in the way he rolls his shoulders a little suggests it well enough.
Nodding myself, I turn back to Yes.  “Just watch out, and keep your ears open.  If anything does happen then we might need you pretty sharpish.”
Narrowing her eyes, Yes grits her teeth a noticeable jot before answering:  “Well you just be careful yourself, then, and we won’t need to.”
Cocking my brow, I give her a subtle look before finally popping a gentle slap into her lower shoulder.  She raises her brows at that, it’s not something I do often, but I reckon she might at least be starting to recognise it for the endearment it is.  Certainly she don’t complain as I turn away and move back to Shay, who’s standing close to the corner of the shack now, looking out into the mist, with Krakka at her side, leaning somewhat on his hammer.
The cleric turns as I approach, watching me for a long moment before speaking.  “Watch yourself going in, please.”  He gives me a particularly pointed look as he speaks.
“Gods, not you too.”  I sigh, lying my offhand on my sword’s hilt as I step up beside Shay.  “You good?”
“Raring to get in there.”  She mutters, plucking idly at the string of my bow.  She frowns down at it for a moment before finally turning to me, giving me a questioning look.  “What’s the plan?”
“I dunno yet.  We’ll see when we get there.”  When she frowns, I just shrug.  “We don’t even know what we’re dealing with yet.  Could be whatever that is in there that’s blocking Big Man’s senses is a full-blown trap meant for us.  Could just be a smokescreen.  So we gotta play it by ear.”
“I should be coming with you, then.”  Krakka rasps, and when I look down again his stare is a good deal harder.  “Since you don’t know what might happen.”
“No.”  I frown down at him.  “You’re way too loud.  We’re trying to sneak, remember?”  I reach down and give his shoulder a fond little press.  “Follow Big Man in, if he does need to come.  You can come in swinging right behind him.  If we do run into trouble we’ll need firepower ‘fore we need fixing.”
His frown deepens before he finally nods.  “Yes, I suppose you’re right.  But I’m with Yeslee, I really don’t like this.”
“None of us do.”  I give his shoulder one last squeeze before letting go, then look back.
Art’s already there, hood pulled low over his head so his eyes are barely a dull emerald glint in the shadow, but I can see how tight his jaw’s set, and his tail, usually tucked away out of sight under his cloak, is clearly visible now as it twitches from side to side.  Quick and erratic, mirroring his mood, and the way the shaggier fur at the tip’s all puffed up he’s all kinds o’ wound up right now, just like the rest of us.  He gives me a look when he sees me, but holds his tongue.
Behind him, the two mages approach, Tulen leaning in to whisper something to Lady Naru, but the sorcerer doesn’t respond.  She’s already looking right at me as she finally plants her feet, letting her staff settle against her shoulder.  “I’m ready when you are, then.”
The particularly pointed tone with which she delivered that makes me frown, but I don’t respond, instead just turning back to look out into the mist.  The light’s definitely growing now, the sky beyond starting to clear, and I suspect the haze is thinning out a little now.  Another hour and I reckon the sun’ll be burning it off in earnest.  Best move now, then.
So I turn to Shay and nod down at my bow.  “Don’t nock yet, but be ready.”
Shay gives me a subtly hot look as she slips an arrow out of the well-loaded quiver tucked into the small of her back, which she then holds down at her side, twiddling it a little like she’s not entirely sure what to actually do with it now she’s got it out.  “It’s not my first time doing this, as you well know.”
“An’ I seen firsthand how capable you are.”  I smile back, but with little real humour.  “Just wanna make sure we’re on the same page.”
Instead of answering back, Shay just gives me a sharp look, and I can’t help grinning a little wider seeing it.  Finally I turn to Art.  “All right.  You first.  Side entrance, if you don’t mind.”
Nodding, Art don’t even breath, he just lopes off right into the mist, and within a second he’s gone in the grey.  I count down a few more beats, then carefully flip my axe into my left hand so I don’t hit Shay with it when I give her arm a gentle nudge.  Then I start out at a low, careful jog, trusting her to keep up with me.
Remembering well enough where we’re going, I scuttle straight towards the main entrance for a bit before swerving to the side, and when I hear the subtle skipping change in the sound of Shay’s sure-footed boot leather keeping pace I know she’s paying attention.  The decking under out feet is still slick with condensation, but I’m sure-footed enough and know my friends are too, so neither of us go down as I tighten up a little more as the front wall of the building looms into view on my side and I tuck in close beside it.  Slowing now as I start to scurry along, keeping my eyes open as I search for Art.
I’m almost right on top of him before I finally spot him, crouched low just short o’ the drop-off into the steps leading down to the door, and while he’s looking that way he still must catch me coming because he reaches back and raises his hand in warning to stop me.  I pay heed, slowing on the spot, and stop a foot short of his outstretched hand, switching the axe back into my right hand as I drop into a crouch too.
Shay joins me a quick beat after, and when I turn back she’s now nocking the arrow to the bowstring, letting it settle in place without drawing any.  She gives me another look when she catches my gaze, but I don’t rise to the bait.  Instead I look past to watch for the others.
Lady Naru emerges from the shifting grey a few moments later, and I can now make out the glisten of dew in her hair making it sparkle and glint, more like spun silver than ever.  It’s striking enough to almost distract me for a moment, until I remember what we’re about and look behind her.  Damn it … “Where’s Tulen?”  I hiss, trying to keep my whisper low as possible as she stops beside me and settles down on her haunches too, hanging onto her staff as much to maintain her balance now as she works to get comfortable.
Frowning, she glances back over her shoulder, casting about for a moment.  “She was right behind me.”
“Shit.”  I growl it this time, stretching a little so I can crane over them both, trying to get a better look at our surroundings as I search.  Damn it indeed, this is not what we need right now.  Fucking mist, I was really hoping it was only gonna help us in this …
Then Shay tenses, shifting a little as she turns so she can start to draw the bow as she raises it, looking out past me, and when I turn I see a shape blundering about, only half seen, maybe twenty feet off from us.  Reaching out, I put my hand over Shay’s own and gently push the bow down, and she slowly relaxes her draw as she makes the connection too, breathing out slowly as she relaxes again.
I was right, we really are all wound too tight right now.  I turn back and focus on the figure as they stop and, I think, turn round, looking like they’re searching for something.  Finally I spit the subtlest psst I dare to make at ‘em and hope for the best.
Tulen – cuz I’m sure that’s who it is – tenses the moment I make the sound, freezing on the spot, then after a wary beat she finally turns our way and, I think, cocks her head.  She must realise what that was because she starts to relax again, drawing down a little so she can make her own cautious jog in our direction.  Once she becomes clear in the hazy air I see her face is already darkening, her blush heavy, and she won’t meet my eyes at all.
“Sorry.”  she barely mutters as she arrives, dropping into her own crouch a good deal less gracefully, having to struggle for a moment when her sword catches the decking beside her and everything pokes up on her belt.  She hisses in frustration as she struggles to correct it.
“It’s all right.”  I keep my tone as gentle and calm as I can, hoping I can soothe her now.  “You made it in the end, that’s what counts.”
“Okay.”  she finally manages to look up at me, and while she’s still blushing there’s a little hope in her glance now.  “I’ll … I’ll try not to … you know …”
Resisting the urge to just reach out and pull her in for a hug, I just give her a gentle smile instead.  Then I turn to Art, finding he’s looking our way now.  “How’s it look?”
“You were right, no lock.  That’s interesting.”  He reaches up under his cloak, fiddling with his knives now, but he don’t draw anything, just checking, probably.  Mostly just fidgeting.  “What you wanna do?”
“You reckon maybe you can just sneak in?”
“Maybe.”  He turns back now, and he’s frowning deep himself, looking all kinds of uncertain in fact.  “Cept I don’t know what the fuck’s in there.  I can’t hear anything.  If there is anybody in there they’re bein’ bloody quiet.”
That has me frowning too, and I turn back to Shay.  “How ‘bout you?”
Shaking her head, Shay clenches her jaw as she considers for a moment.  “No, he’s right.  This place is awfully quiet.  If it wasn’t for the lights in the windows I’d think this place really was as abandoned as it looks.”
When I turn to her, Lady Naru’s looking past me, considering the doorway, and there’s the subtlest quirk of a smile touching her lips.  “If I may?”  She tilts her staff upright and, surprisingly, pulls down on the shaft … and it actually starts to contract, seeming to shrink down as she draws on it.  When she then picks it up, it really is a good two feet shorter, then she adjusts her grip and repeats the process, and again the shaft seems to shorten once more.  When I look to Shay again I see I’m not the only one somewhat astounded by this uncanny little trick.
Instead of doing it a third time, the sorcerer simply turns it in her hands so she can take either end of what’s left of the staff and simply push on them, and once again it responds as pliably as before.  Finally there’s literally just four inches of shaft and the head itself left, which she then turns over in her hand before tucking the whole thing into her wide, hanging sleeve … and after saying something under her breath, another of those strange tone-words, it’s just … gone.
When she looks up again, she’s smiling wider now, and after a beat she actually tips me a wink, which takes me even more by surprise.  Finally she settles back on her haunches, reaching up to brush her hair back from her face and then the rest of it out over her shoulders to tumble down her back, and takes a deep breath, regarding me again with a more critical eye.  “Give me … shall we say, two minutes?  If you don’t hear anything, it’s likely safe to follow me.”
That makes me frown deeper than ever, but before I can ask what the hell she means she sits forward again, moving her hands round as she starts to arch her back so she can let her hands settle down on the ground, down between her knees.  For a moment It almost seems like she starts to stretch, but at the same time, inexplicably, I swear she also starts to shrink … then there’s a very clear shimmer in the air, all round her, before her whole form seems to … blur.  There’s no sound, but for some odd reason I seem to notice a very low, very subtle intake of breath all the same …
And then she’s just … not there anymore.  Instead there’s a fox, a sleek, slender, fiendishly intelligent-looking silver-furred fox, with uncannily human bright blue eyes and a very strange expression, something close to amusement, I think.  It’s unsettling, and yet somehow … I dunno, it also looks perfectly right.  Almost as if this is who she really is.
“What the fuck?”  I can’t help whispering, and when I look round at the others they’re all watching her, just as surprised, Tulen genuinely wide-eyed as she takes it in.  I start to ask what the hell’s going on, but then I realise that Lady Naru, or the fox, whatever, is already moving, scurrying with almost alarming fluid grace down the steps.  Not making a single sound as she moves, I realise.
“How … what the …”  I turn to Tulen again, proper pleading this time, and hiss:  “Seriously, what did she just do?”
“I … I’m sorry, I have no idea.  I’ve never seen a spell like that.  That … that wasn’t transmutation.”
Yeah, I don’t know how to respond to that one, so I don’t even try.
The Naru fox is sniffing at the bottom of the door, quite furtively, actually, then she pulls back and settles on her haunches again, seeming to consider for a moment, and the way she cocks her head is at once exceedingly human but also very much not.  Then she turns, gives me a look, and ducks back to hunker down again, starting to sniff again.  No, wait … no, she’s not sniffing.  I shift forward now, pushing past Art so I can take a close look, and now I can see she’s actually trying to shove her nose under the door, as if she’s actually working on burrowing her way through.  And after a moment’s resistance, it actually starts to work.
She immediately starts squirming with more intensity, and somehow it seems to genuinely pay off as, quicker and quicker still, she just squeezes herself into the crack under the door.  When I look back at Tulen this time her eyes are the widest I ever seen ‘em, she’s proper dumbfounded, so this time I don’t even ask.  Whatever it is that Lady Naru, or whatever she is now, is doing, it ain’t no kinda magic known to the Silver Order.
I turn back just in time to see her tail’s all that’s left sticking out from under the door, and with one last twitch it just sucks right in after her, and that’s that.  I let out the breath I now realise I been holding since it started and step the rest o’ the way past Art, setting my hand carefully on the edge of the drop so I can swing myself over and drop into the recess at the bottom.  I barely make any sound landing, I’m good and careful doing it, and immediately tighten up once I land, not quite crouching but still ready in case anything were to happen.  After a thoughtful beat I reach up and over and unhook the other axe, bringing it down now to grip low and ready at my left just like I’m already doing with my right.
The anticipation’s building now.  I’m just focused on the door, my blood pumping as I start to imagine kicking it open, figuring that, unless they got some serious security behind this thing I could probably bust it open with no more’n two.  Maybe just the one if I took a run at it.  I’ll work it out when the time comes.  If it comes.
Instead I’m just left waiting, and I can’t hear anything beyond the door either, now I think about it.  This is … I dunno, I can’t work out if it’s a good sign or real bad.
When I finally hear something it’s approaching footsteps, and I tense up a bit more, drawing into myself now while I lower my head a little, until I can just peer out from under my brows.  I see Art shifting through the corner of my eye now, moving back a couple steps while he brings his hand across to grasp the hilt of his sword, the other flexing as he prepares to follow through drawing the knife on his other hip.  Shay takes a step away from him and vanishes from my sight, but I know she’s just moving behind me, and I catch the subtle scrape as she draws Ashsong’s sword.
The footsteps stop just inside the door, then I hear bolts starting to shoot and it’s enough to make me take a cautious step back, anticipating now.  Three bolts … no, four, bloody hell, they weren’t fuckin’ about after all.  Then I hear the loud, grinding ratchet of a heavy iron bar being slid out of the way as well, and I realise that this would’ve taken me more’n two kicks after all, even with a run-up first.  I might even have hurt myself trying to boot it open, sounds like.  When it opens it’s almost a relief I don’t have to after all.
Lady Naru peers through the gap as it swings inwards, in human form and fully dressed once more, and cocks a brow as she looks me over.  “Now I did say –”
“Yeah, yeah.”  I straighten up again, letting my muscles slowly slacken again as I just walk through.  “Just being prudent.  As you lot like to say.”
Stepping aside to let me through, Lady Naru smiles fondly as she opens the door the rest of the way.  “You needn’t have bothered.  It seems we’ve been anticipated.”
“What?”  That stops me short just before I’ve passed her, turning to regard her hotly now.  I’m barely conscious of Shay stopping just outside the door as she realises I’m halting too.  “You’re kidding me.”
Her smile fades quickly.  “I wish I was, but unfortunately that seems to be the case.  See for yourself.”
Frowning again, I step past her, finding myself in a kind of trench cut into the floor off to the side of a much larger room, with a ramp and stairs leading up onto it a dozen paces further down.  Even before I start climbing the ramp I can already clearly make out the rest o’ the place, because the whole room is pretty much entirely empty.  “Fuck.”
The open space stretches close to forty metres down the other end, before opening into another room further back through a rolling wooden door which currently stands half open.  The roof’s supported in well-spaced spots by thick cast iron pylons with surprisingly intricately detailed curving, artistic arched struts bolted into the ribbed ceiling.  Given the roof of the building’s peaked but the ceiling itself is flat, I suspect there’s a loft overhead, although there’s a good twenty feet o’ headroom above when I reach the somewhat dusty, gritty main floor at the top of the ramp.  This seems to be relatively smooth concrete rather than wood.
The whole place smells of dust and sweat and … something a good deal more acrid, I realise.  Something I long since come to recognise, familiar now after years on one makeshift battlefield after another.  Fear.  Oh yeah, this is definitely the place.  Or it was.
Shay steps past me now, surprisingly me somewhat since I didn’t actually hear her coming up behind me, and she’s already sheathing her sword again as she steps out into the wider space ahead of her.  Taking it all in.  “This is … are we sure this is right?  This place seems as abandoned as it –”
“No, look.”  I point with my right-hand axe, indicating a few spots around the floor now.  There are … well, essentially there’s shapes drawn in the dirt and caked dust on the floor along with multiple footprints of various sizes.  Great gridworks of squares and rectangles arranged in rough streets and avenues all along the length of the chamber, all the way from front to back, looks like.  “Something was in here pretty recently.  A whole lot o’ something.”
Frowning down at it all, Shay sighs in clear frustration.  “Yeah, all right.  But what?”
Gotta shrug at that.  “I got no clue.”
“I might be able to see, actually.”  Tulen’s joined us now, looking round as she steps out onto the floor too.  She already reaching into her components bag, seeming to be going purely by touch.  “Hold on.”
Cocking a brow, I look back down the way we’ve come, seeing Art starting to climb up after us now, sword and knife still comfortably tucked away, it seems.  Lady Naru’s already retrieved her staff, taking her time following him.  She’s already been round in here, I can tell as much from the inexplicable trail of pawprints in the filth from her brief sojourn sniffing the place out.
“All right, here we go.”  Tulen opens a small, stoppered phial and shakes a small handful of something out of it, then takes three large steps past me before throwing her hand out and opening her fingers at the end of it, speaking another incantation as she does it.  The fine red powder she releases into the air instantly seems to light up, and the moment after, as she blows hard through puffed lips, that flare brightens considerably.  A great cloud of warm golden energy spreads out around us, and quickly grows to expand throughout the majority of our immediate vicinity.
The effect, as it touches the spaces where the markings on the floor are, is impressive.  Suddenly they seem to somewhat solidify, as if glowing smoke could take on vaguely physical shapes, and structures begin to form around us.  And within the structures, less well seen and a good deal more amorphous, but still visible enough to recognise, are living forms.
People.  Dozens o’ people, maybe hundreds, given the size of the entire place.  Packed tight into boxy cages, walled with tight wire mesh.  And I even get the impression that there were, at one time at least, more’n a few guards patrolling the place as well, keeping an eye on ‘em all, and keeping ‘em in line.  Keeping ‘em quiet.
The image stays for a moment or so longer, enough for us to work out exactly what we’re looking at, then gravity seems to win out and the particles settle, the glowing ghost of the makeshift dungeon fading from sight again.  Finally I turn to regard Tulen, raising my brows in clear appreciation.  “Nice.”
“Jubivarro’s Revelation.  It’s quite rudimentary, really.  But most effective.”
“Right.”  I give Shay a look, and she just rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling a little as she starts to walk towards the back.  Moving with purpose now, and the way her smile don’t last long tells me she’s getting into the frame o’ mind to do some violence if she finds anything after all.
“Hold up!”  I call out after her, turning back to Lady Naru as she finally starts a leisurely climb up the ramp.  “You’re sure there’s nobody here?”
“I was quick, but thorough.  In truth there really wasn’t much ground left for me to cover.  Relatively speaking.”
It takes me a moment to get the particular gist of what she actually means by that, but finally I just shrug as I start moving after Shay after all.  “All right, well … just get the others in here.  But make sure you stress that we should be cautious anyway, just in case.  Yeah?”
“Of course.”  She’s already retrieving her length of sting, taking care as she unravels it again.
Breaking into a jog now, I take off after Shay, keeping my axes in hand since I’m still feeling paranoid after all that built-up anticipation.  Just cuz she thinks they’re all gone don’t mean they definitely ain’t.  There’s still something about this place, just … I dunno.  It gives me the creeps.
Shay finally starts to slow as she nears the rolling door, and as she approaches she starts to veer off to come up to it at a more oblique angle, where the door itself stands on its oversized rollers.  It’s a great hulking thing, almost tall as the ceiling itself, and I suspect it takes some serious effort to get it moving in the first place, built from particularly thick, solid oak planks banded with thick black bands of iron fastened in place with rivets big as an orc’s clenched fist.  There’s a five metre gap open, and through it I can make out some o’ the room beyond, my gaze immediately drawn to the relative gloom.  Well, mostly gloom …
Now I’m looking, there seems to be some subtle light inside, and I don’t reckon it’s coming from windows or just filtering through the open doorway from this larger chamber.  There’s a glow inside there, something cold blue that’s low enough it took me a moment to actually pick up on it.  But now I’m actually aware of it I reckon it might actually be growing brighter.  Which don’t exactly fill me with confidence.
“Shay, hold up.”
She don’t respond right away, instead moving in close beside the door and pausing for a moment to draw her sword before finally turning towards me.  She still doesn’t speak, she just gives me a somewhat closed, flinty look which nonetheless don’t feel like reproach.  Just expectation, but clearly guarded.
I just stop on the spot, giving her a look right back, then raise my right hand and, the best I can with the axe gripped in my hand, raise a finger to my lips to check her.  Then I wave towards her and do the best I can to indicate for her to stay put, ‘least until I’ve taken a look.  She’s a long time responding to that too, but finally nods, still stoic.
Pretty clear what that’s about.  She’s raring to get in there, given that so far this is proving to be a bust she wants to check out what’s left in the hope that there might be something left as a lead.  She’s desperate for a clue as I am, she wants to get Gael back so bad, they’ve really connected and she��s worried, but she’s fighting real hard to stay smart about it.  Keeping as tight a rein as she can on her emotions, and on her recklessness.  I know exactly how she’s feeling cuz I’m going through all that too.
Nodding back, I take a beat to suck in a steadying breath and adjust my grip on both my axes, keeping ‘em held low but still ready as I approach the gap in a stooped, cautious stalk.  Choosing my footing every step, taking my time as I concentrate on that open space between the door and the frame.  Watching out for the slightest hint there might be an actual threat on the other side.
Nothing jumps out at me though, and when I reach the edge of the door I take a deeper breath and hold it as I count down quick in my head, springing through on one and dropping into a tight defensive stance, ready in case I’m suddenly set upon.  Nothing happens to me, and I can’t perceive any threats, even when I quickly check the corner behind me, remembering the training da drummed into my head every time we worked on urban combat.  Even so, I’m slow relaxing enough the straighten up, and I’m similarly slow letting that breath out again.  Finally I step to the gap and wave through with my left-hand axe, beckoning Shay after me.
Then I toss the right-hand one down, letting it thunk good and hard into the floor so it sticks up ready as I slip the other one back into place over my shoulder and take a moment to cinch it in tight again.  By the time I’m repeating the process after yanking the other one free Shay’s already stepped through, sheathing her sword with a frustrated hiss once she’s taken in her surroundings.  After a beat I realise there’s someone stepping through after her, but don’t feel any alarm as I recognise Art.  He’s taking his hand off the hilt of his sword as he looks round, but in his case he looks more fretful than disappointed over what he's found.  Or rather what he ain’t.
There’s very little in here.  The floor in here’s wooden boards, but smoother and more sturdy than the decking of the docks outside, and nowhere near as dusty as the rest o’ this place.  There are a few scraps of furniture here and there, just an overturned table and two broken chairs scattered around the bottom of the far wall, and a vague, open ring of small, sagging half-rotted wooden crates.  These are arranged round the only real object of note in the whole room, a large circular seal drawn on the floor, which is glowing with a dull blue light I’m now convinced is getting brighter as I watch it.
I’m about to turn and remark on it to Shay when I hear a great rending crash outside.  I barely even stiffen, already knowing full well what that is even without hearing the heavy, leaden footfalls as Driver 8 now making his way into the building after tearing his way right through the front doors, and the others will be right behind him.  Well, I did tell him to come in strong, and in truth I really don’t care too much about any actual damage done to this place while we’re here.  So I just puff out my cheeks with a sharp exhale and carry on.
“What d’you reckon that’s about?”
Shay don’t answer right away, she simply steps towards it, hand coming to rest on her sword again as she frowns down at it.  “I’m not sure.  It looks like one of those teleportation circles, like Gael and the others in the Order uses, but …”  She shrugs.  “Honestly, I’m not the expert.  But I am pretty sure it shouldn’t be doing that.”
“All right, well don’t get too close, then.”  I step back towards the door now, looking out through the gap as I see the rest of our group starting to look round the interior.  I turn to Art.  “Can you get Tulen in here?”
“Her specific, or just –”
“Either of the mages’d be helpful, but I reckon she’s probably more clued up on whatever this is.  Make your own call.”
The look he gives me is very sharp, but I’ve already realised I answered a whole lot shorter than I intended too.  He starts to snap back too but stops himself, his frown darkening considerably instead, and I let out a heavy sigh filled with regret for having hit him with that right now.  But before I can apologise he’s already turning away and stalking back through the gap to reach the others, so I swear under my breath:  “Shit.”
“Yeah, I agree.”  Shay’s giving me a look which is one part critical but two parts worried, looks like.  “That was awfully sharp.”
“I’m scared for Gael too, it’s getting me all kinds o’ worked up, I can’t stop myself.  This is …”  I turn again, casting about as I sweep my arm across the strange glowing … whatever it is.  “I dunno.  I was really hoping that –”
“I know.  So was I.”  She steps up close to my side, then leans in to give me a very gentle nudge.  “Gael is … they’re tough, I’ve seen it, they are so strong, but I’m so scared for them with that … monster.  This isn’t any easier for me.”
Letting out an even deeper sigh, I lean into her side too, and after a moment I feel her snake her arm round my back so she can give me a good, tight, comforting squeeze.  It’s nice, it helps, so I don’t feel too self-conscious when I let my head settle on her shoulder.  Any other time this could almost make me feel … I dunno –
There’s a heavy crunch behind us and I jump, springing away from Shay as I turn, and she’s reacting too, I realise.  A moment later the door is slid hard to the side, with a particular roughness that makes it somewhat screech as it barely manages to stay on its rollers, and when it finally stops I suspect it’s good and wedged.  Big Man’s already ducking a little so he can peer through the doorway, and while his head don’t move I know he’s scanning the whole room now.  A beat after Tulen comes striding in, her eyes already widening a little as she looks past us, instantly focusing on the seal, and she moves right past us approaching it.
Turning to Shay again, I raise my brows.  “Well that says something, don’t it?”
“My sensors are still dead.”  Big Man’s eyes are blazing right now, telling me he’s staring intently at the seal himself.  “I cannot make out anything that is not within my visual or auditory range.  The entire building seems to be a hotspot for this effect.”
Shay’s own brows shoot up at that.  “You were saying?”
“Is it coming from that?”  I step towards Tulen now, as she drops into a crouch just a step short of it, leaning in close as she reaches out, but stops short of actually touching the glowing lines and sigils.
“I am afraid I cannot tell.  As I said, my sensory capabilities have been severely impacted.”
Nodding as much for his benefit as my peace of mind, I hunker down next to the wizard just as Lady Naru sweeps into the room herself, already making a beeline for the same spot, while Shay’s hanging back now.  Seems she’s more content to watch from a safe distance, and right now can’t say I blame her.
Now I’m close, I realise the glow ain’t actually getting brighter, it’s pulsing, throbbing with a subtle ebb and flow of bright and dim, but never so much that it becomes dark.  The blue’s mostly like Gael’s own, but now that I can really get up close I see there’s the subtlest tinge of green in it too, turning it a little turquoise maybe.
“Is it supposed to glow like that?”
“Not really, no.”  Tulen’s frowning at it, again reaching out but not quite making contact, instead just letting her fingers brush through the air an inch or so above the lines.  The glow seems to brighten ever so slightly where she seems to be making her near-contact, before returning to its current intensity … now that’s interesting.  “It’s like a teleportation circle, but … some of these glyphs don’t fit.  It doesn’t switch off acter it’s been used, it just stays open.”
“Wait …”  I turn to look her directly in the eye now, unable to contain myself.  That sounds so promising.  “Could we actually use this?”
“Use it?”  Shay must forget her discomfort now, instead stepping close.  “You’re sure about that?  If we tried going to … wherever this goes, I mean … wouldn’t we be jumping through completely blind?  We’d have no idea where we’re going, or what would actually be waiting for us.  I mean this whole place already feels like a trap …”
“No, I don’t think we could do that anyway.”  Tulen’s still gantly probing the circle, her frown increasing.  “Some of these glyphs are very strange indeed, I don’t recognise this one at all.”  She points out a particularly complicated squiggle drawn amongst those lining the outermost ring.  “Then there are others which, by rights, shouldn’t even be in the same circle together.  Not if they wanted anyone to survive the journey.  Honestly I really don’t understand it.”
Shay straightens up again, placing her hands on her hips as she shuffles her feet.  “Then what good is it?  What’s this Tavarrat playing at?”
“There could be ways to actually make this work.”  Lady Naru offers up, and when I look up she’s leaning into her staff again, soberly pondering the design.  “Tavarrat is, apparently, a former Order mage, and from what we’ve been told an especially accomplished one.  There is no reason for her to construct a magical device that would prove to be entirely non-functional.  Perhaps this requires some additional means to function as intended.  A key, or a specific tone or code phrase, which would unlock those glyphs which are unfamiliar to our most learned expert here.”
Tulen blinks up at her, seeming surprised by the casual ease of the compliment, as if it’s just matter-of-fact.  “Um … you think …”  She looks down now, frowning again, growing ponderous.  “Hmmm … actually, yes, that could … you might be onto something there.  The seal would be locked until triggered.  Until then, even though it’s clearly active, the magic would be restricted and lie dormant, and we wouldn’t be able to access it.”
“So this is pretty much useless to us then, cuz we ain’t got this key or whatever it is?”  I venture, catching a glimpse of Krakka starting to approach now through the corner of my eye.
“Not necessarily … I might be able to get a more passive reading from the seal since it’s still active.”  She settles back on her haunches, reaching across to open her components bag again and starting to fish through it.  “If I can, I might be able to tell where they went.”
Krakka steps in now, and when I hear the thump of Bloodmoon on the boards beside me I look up at him.  He’s breathing pretty heavy, clearly winded by the journey, and stays doubled over for several moments, sucking air in as he pants away.  “Oh … damn it … I really am getting too old for this.”
“What … did you run all the way?”  I cock a brow as I glance up at Lady Naru.  “Didn’t you say that it was safe in here?”
“No, that was just … me.”  Krakka uses Bloodmoon’s shaft to push himself a bit more upright and looks me over.  “I heard you said it was essentially a bust and I had to take a look for myself.  Big Man was already moving by then, so I …”  He shrugs.  “I was being foolish.”
“Lot o’ that going round, right now.”  I sigh  “Can’t blame you for it too.”
Catching sight o’ Tulen finally taking something out her satchel through the corner of my eye, I turn back as she un-stoppers a tiny metal flask before very gently shaking three drops out onto the tips of her fingers.  She’s very specific about the measurements, I notice.  Then, Instead of trying to juggle while she’s still holding her other hand up, she holds the flask out and, after a moment, Shay reaches out and takes it from her, frowning a little.  Then she spits into the palm of her other hand with a slightly sheepish look and presses the carefully oiled fingers into it, then starts rubbing the mixture between both palms.  Finally she starts speaking a low string of tonal words and starts weaving her hands back and forth around each other in a kind of circular dance, rather than drawing a sigil like I expected.
Just as I’m about to look up at Lady Naru with a questioning expression, Tulen finally spreads her hands out and pushes them forward, speaking a final incantation at the same moment, and the air above the circle seems to ripple, like a pond after you toss in a pebble.  At the same time I see the subtlest flaring in Tulen’s striking amber eyes, like she’s seeing something new.  She continues to frown as she looks down at the seal again, but this time with the intensity of deep, intrigued concentration.
As she does this, I push myself back up to standing, wanting to take some of the strain off my thighs and knees directly.  As I take a step back I stretch a little more than strictly necessary with each movement, working on limbering while I do it, and give my back a little stretch too as I turn to Shay.  She’s just watching Tulen with a particularly tense expression, arms tightly folded across her chest, more worked up than ever now.  Banking on this working even more’n I am.
Krakka’s leaning forward again, still using his hammer to prop himself up, but I can tell he’s simple giving this whole business the same close, critical regard as Shay.  Or … no, not the process itself.  The circle.  Like he’s suspicious of it.  That don’t surprise me too much.  He’s a cleric, he’s sensitive to fell magic and the like, so he’s trying to sniff out anything genuinely dangerous here.
I’m about to lean in and ask if he’s picking up any particularly bad vibes when I catch Tulen rocking back on her haunches again, frowning deeper than ever as she turns my way.  I wheel about to regard her, a little faster than strictly necessary, kinda desperate for some answers.  “What’s up?”
“I’m not … I can’t sense anything here.  There’s no homing address in here anymore, it’s almost like the whole thing’s been scrubbed clean.  The circle’s still active, but … it shouldn’t be.  Without a destination this whole thing should be inert.”
“Kesla …”  Krakka mutters now, but I only just register it, I’m still too focused on Tulen and this strange revelation.  Whatever the hell it actually means.
“Are you saying this thing is … I don’t get it.  If it should be a dud then why’s it working at all?”
“Do you think it might have something to do with these strange glyphs?”  Lady Naru suggests, leaning forward now to take a closer look.
“That would seem to track, but …”  Tulen reaches up, likely intending to brush her hair from her face, but stops herself short as she remembers she has something smeared on her hands.  “Oh, um … I’m not sure.  I mean, that alone shouldn’t be enough, I –”
“Kesla.”  Krakka prompts again, a god deal more insistent this time, and this time I wake up to it.
“What is it?”
He’s opened one of the crates, I realise, I must’ve been so caught up I didn’t even notice.  When I lean over I see it’s filled with … well, I don’t know what it is, really.  It just looks like junk.  Old nails and bolts and screws, washers and scraps of rusty, broken metal.  “Something’s very wrong here.”
“What … I don’t get it, what’s this even here for?”  My skin goes icy cold as I feel the goosebumps rising, setting it crawling now, and I feel the dull shiver riding up my spine as the weight of his words hit home.  Something about the boxes … I dunno, it’s suspicious, Krakka’s right, it’s got alarm bells ringing.
“The light … that pulsing …”  Shay grips my shoulder now, grabbing my attention.  “Is it just me, or is it getting faster?”
Turning back, I look at the circle again, and I don’t need more’n a glance to see what she’s getting at.  The glow of the lines ain’t flashing, ‘least not yet, but it’s sure on a slow approach to some kinda strobe effect now, I can pick that up clear as day.  I take a step back, I can’t help it, my body just reacting all on its own without needing any input from my brain.  “Oh … yeah.  Um … Tulen, what …”
Leaning closer still, she reaches out again, and this time was she passes her hand over it the air seems to … honestly, it’s a strange kind of distortion, almost a subtle tearing in fact.  Then there’s a low, fatty hissing sound and a brief flare and she pulls her hand back, toppling over onto her arse as she overbalances.  As she shakes her hand and starts blowing on it with a grimacing curse I can see the skin of her palm is smoking a little now.  “Ow, that …”
“Shit!”  Shay’s dropping to one knee at her side immediately, reaching for her hand in order to look it over for herself.
“What the fuck was that?”  I check myself before rushing forward, the implications behind what just happened already becoming clear.
“Minerva …”  Tulen hisses through gritted teeth while Shay starts blowing on her palm, looking genuinely shocked by what she sees.  She’s been proper burned, the somewhat leathery skin angrily blistered, and even as Shay works to cool it it’s still smoking.  “Oh, that smarts … I was … damn it, this is so wrong.  Krakka’s right, I think this is a trap.”  She blinks up at me now, her eyes suddenly very wide.  “We need to get out of here now.”
“I don’t understand, what are you –”
“The fucking thing’s going to blow up!”  Krakka drags his hammer up with one hand and grabs hold of my arm with the other, starting to tow me towards the door.  In this moment I’m really not with it so I find myself going without resistance.  Oh shit … now the crates make sense.  If every one of ‘em is just packed with rusty pieces of metal, then … gods, that’s just cruel.  If that thing blows up and shreds the boxes, their contents’ll fly out in all directions with deadly force.   They’re designed to tear apart any soft targets that are close enough to take a hit.  It’s monstrous.
“But what about –”
“There’s no time!”  Lady Naru’s already gotten hold of Shay, I see, but she’s resisting, working to shrug the sorcerer off.  The noblewoman’s showing surprising forcefulness in maintaining her hold.  “We can’t be anywhere near this when it goes off!”
I shrug Krakka’s grip off now and stalk back to Tulen, who’s still on her backside, looking down at the seal again.  Like she’s still trying to solve the puzzle.  She don’t resist me when I grab hold of her arm and drag her to her feet.  “Come on, time to go!”
“It doesn’t make any sense –”
“Tulen!”  I give her arm a good hard yank and start dragging her now.  “We gotta go!”
When I give her burned hand a squeeze for good measure she finally snaps out of it, letting out a somewhat winded scream and yanking her arm away from me at last, looking at me like I’m some kind of monster.  “Fuck!  You didn’t … oh …”
Behind her the seal’s already flashing with a particular urgency, and I suspect this means the time we got left could be counted in mere seconds now.  And suddenly I realise the main problem.  “Fuck … Tulen, just port as many out as you can!  Naru, you too!  Do it now!”
Lady Naru frowns at me for a beat, as if she doesn’t understand what I mean, then her eyes widen too and she grabs hold of Krakka’s arm.  Behind ‘em I can see Art’s already got hold of Darwyn and he’s bolting hard across the floor of the room outside, cradling her in his arms with Zuldrad hot on their heels.  I reckon the sorcerer’s made that same connection cuz when she speaks her incantation she’s already focused on both of ‘em, likely intending to jump right into their midst and port everybody out.
Krakka’s starting to protest as they vanish, and I know he’s thinking about Driver 8, but the golem ain’t moving, he’s still leaning in through the doorway watching us all.  I can’t read him any better now but it’s clear enough he’s genuinely worried for us.  I just take a step towards him and wave him off.  “Go, now!  Fast as you can, get outta here!”
“What are you –”  Shay’s towing Tulen towards the doorway now, even while she’s watching me her own wide eyes.
“He’s too heavy to port!”  I wave at him again, trying to shoo him like a cat, and even now it feels vaguely ridiculous.  “Just go!”
He still just stands there, tilting somewhat at the waist but still fully focused on me, I know.  “I will not leave you –”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake –”  I start to stomp towards him just as I feel Shay’s steely fingers fix a genuinely painful grip on my left arm, just below the pauldron, and in the same moment I feel more than hear when Tulen speaks the incantation.  It’s instantly followed by that strange, deeply unpleasant pulling, falling sensation, and my stomach seems to drop quicker than anything else cuz I don’t have time to hold my breath or close my eyes this time, knowing I’m gonna throw up the moment I land.
Except that at the exact same moment, very close by, there’s a great blast of heat and a deafening crack of booming thunder, and all the wind’s knocked right outta me as something hits me hard in the back, something hot and fast and very sharp which I feel even through the steel o’ my half-plate.  So when I’m suddenly yanked away by the spell it’s almost like I just go away entirely, everything goes blank and I switch off …
TO BE CONTINUED ...
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